Ice cream. Oh how she desired some ice cream. Butterscotch flavour, two scoops on one cone. That was paradise. If she died and went to heaven, it would only consist of butterscotch. Ginny stepped out of Fortescue's with the cone clutched in her hand, and ran her tongue around the edge of the bottom scoop. Oh yeah. That was going to settle a craving all right!
She went in for a second lick as she started to walk away, and something terrible happened. With a soft 'splat', the ice cream dived from her cone straight onto the cobbles below. She stopped and looked down at the butterscotch mess in front of her. "Well crap."