"Aww shit," Much said, grinning sympathetically. "Smoosh your tongue up against the roof of your mouth," he suggested. "That works, unless it's really intense." Like the time a few years back when Will had bet Much couldn't eat an entire bucket of snow. He'd been right, too, but Much had given it a damn good go before the brain freeze had overpowered him. There was no way smooshing his tongue against the roof of his mouth would have helped, that day.