Once upon a time, in a far-off land, there was an ice cream truck driver named Bob.

Once upon a time, in a far-off land, there was an ice cream truck driver named Bob. Everyone in the neighborhood knew when Bob's truck was driving by because of the giant inflatable clown head that he'd strapped to the roof. The clown head had speakers in it, and as Bob drove by he would talk into a little microphone, saying things like, Hey, kids, buy ice cream! And lo and behold, it sounded just like the giant inflatable clown head itself was talking. Bob liked his job because he got to make kids happy and eat a lot of ice cream himself. And so it went, for many years. Until one day, the government of the far-off land decided to outlaw ice cream. Yes, all of a sudden, the treats that Bob once sold had become controlled substances. Bob, fearing for his job, quickly converted his ice cream truck into a tuna-fish truck, but he kept the clown head and the speakers for old times' sake. But instead of turning in his stocks of ice cream to the government, he kept them in the basement of his house, and every day he would take out a popsicle or a sundae cone and eat it in the privacy of his home. It got so Bob would eat more and more ice cream every day, which made him a bit of a jumpier person than he had been before, but nobody seemed to mind. And so it happened that one day, Bob was rather erratically driving his tuna-fish truck around the neighborhood, having just eaten two pudding pops and an orange creamsicle. He picked up his microphone, as he had done so many times before, but when he switched the microphone on, the sugar buzz kicked in, and all he could say was: T'nnufidgeiss ver'gyood! Buy'tnaow! And that's when Bob realized that he had a problem. A problem...with truck head diction.