Francis the Cool Ice Cube

“Wow, Francis! You’re so cool!”
“Well golly, Francis, you’re the coolest!”
“Boy oh boy, Francis, I wish I were as cool as you!”

These were among the most common phrases Francis the Cool Ice Cube was apt to hear wherever he walked around. Francis couldn’t help but be cool. He was so cool, he was ice cold.

Francis took a stroll to his mailbox. He leafed through many letters from fans, something he was accustomed to. But one letter stood out to Francis. It seemed weathered and beaten. On the front, it read in gruesome handwriting “I know what you have done.”

Francis was filled with a quick and rapid panic. Cautiously and waveringly, he broke the seal of the envelope and pulled out the letter, which was just as dilapidated. The letter was printed on paper a quarter the size of normal letter paper. And even more obliquely, it was blank.

Francis felt a bit of relief. ”Phew,” he thought. ”I’m still cool.” He tossed the letter behind him and began to stroll into town.

But the letter was carried by the wind and flipped midair in front of Francis’ face. Upon seeing the backside of the letter, a cold sweat returned to Francis. It was not the front of an unusual-sized letter Francis has been looking at. It was the back of a normal-sized photo. And on the front of that photo, to Francis’ horror, was an image of the baby Francis had brutally raped that autumn.

Suddenly, Francis could hear a raspy chuckling. He spun twisted and turned in a spasmodic trepidation, searching for the source of suck taunting sounds. His whirling eyes soon locked on the host of the chuckles, Yokin’ Jokin’ Joe. Yokin’ Jokin’ Joe sat on his porch, his gargantuan beer belly hanging out of his shirt.

“Yo, stop chucklin’, man!” Francis demanded in a broken voice. ”Stop your chucklin’!”
“You’re melting, Francis,” cooed Yokin’ Jokin’ Joe. ”You’re melting away.”

Francis’ eyes widened. He quickly inspected his body to see that Yokin’ Jokin’ Joe wasn’t lying. His cold sweat had transformed into a very warm sweat.

“I can fight this, man!” Francis assured himself in a voice devoid of hope. ”I just gotta think of how cool I am! Yeah, um…Wow, Francis, you’re so cool! Well golly, Francis, you’re just the coolest! Boy oh boy, Francis, I wish I were as cool as you!”

Francis kept repeating the phrases he so often heard while Yokin’ Jokin’ Joe kept on chuckling.

The photo became soaked in the lifeless puddle of Francis the Cool Ice Cube.