That's the last time I let you order an extra hot caramel latte monstrosity. Now you can't feel your tongue, and the whole car smells like a unicorn farted out dulce de leche fumes. This is almost as bad as the time you got a caramel stuffed churro at the county fair and wound up with half of the gooey mess on the front of your shirt. No, you're sticking with tea next time, kiddo. Iced.
Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to order another mochachino explosion with extra whipped cream.
This week's prompt was provided by Jocelyn Roddie.