Juhlahtoh
Legacy Name: Juhlahtoh

Gelato is the reason for my existence...

and I don't just mean I could eat my weight in the creamy, luscious treat. My parents fell in love over a bowl of Monkey Business. He loved the rich hints of hazelnut and she went bananas over anything banana. They settled in a lesser known district of Centropolis, opening a little corner shop to offer Subeta the first taste of genuine gelato. Their six simple flavors would grow into nearly a hundred and thirty offerings, with the most popular few featured in Libertine Lounge. Is there any Subetan alive who hasn't sampled a bowl of Strawberry Gelato while strolling the ballroom floor?

The shop is in my care now and if it were up to me, I'd put a bowl of gelato into the hands of every Subetan. Unfortunately, my parents weren't the only ones who thought to open a novelty store on Shinwa Avenue. I've got Pretty Priggle Pastries to the left and Sweet Bea Honey Pies just around the corner. While gelato is clearly a superior dessert, not every Subetan is aware of this fact.

I envy every passerby. As much as I love this shop, I would give anything to explore the forests of Veta, the land from which my family uprooted. Every time I get a customer with the customary lumber jacket and work boots of a Vetan logger, I hover near their table and try to work my way into the conversation. I've read Safety for Campers so many times the edges are all dog-eared and I've eaten every available flavor of freeze-dried ice cream though it will never have the appeal of gelato. Someday I will camp beneath the trees where the first antlephores sharpened their horns.

"Snap out of it, Juhl. You look like an antlephore in headlights again."

Win has a habit of annoying people no matter how many times they've saved him from being eaten. My minon's real name is Wild N' Reckless, a name he's earned many times over, but he insists on being called Win. He's got a mischievous streak to rival the streaks of strawberry syrup on his head.

"Come on, taffy brain. Can't you see there are customers arriving?"

I know the lain with the pink bonnet and today she's brought a friend. They each order a double-scoop pumpkin spice to go, the ruffie throwing on chocolate chips, gummy chais, and a cherry on top. I love ruffies almost as much as I love holidays. They always order extra toppings in the most interesting combinations.

"So how was your trip to Darkside, dear?"

I pause at the next table over, taking longer than necessary to polish the surface. I can never get enough travel stories, no matter the source. Mr. Mound of Toppings snorts and rolls his eyes.

"Terrible. I tell you, Opal. Delphi Beach is the place to go for a real vacation. Don't let the travel agents sell you on this notion that the red haze over the factories is romantic. They're all secretly paid by Maleria, I swear. My wife was actually growling at me on the way home and the kids kept whining because we wouldn't let them try the zapper. Not that it stopped them from sneaking over to Ian's lab to try and combine their minions into some mutated creature. Thank goodness the combinations weren't valid."

I sure am glad most of my customers come here to escape their children. Noisy, messy little brats always smear their fingerprints over the surface of the display case and make a mess of the tables.

The Darkside is yet another land I'll likely never see outside of pictures in a book. I check all the napkin holders, full well knowing they're down by no more than three papers but desperate not to lose one word of the ruffie's account.

I can hear Win squelching on the distant counter, his signal that he needs me for something. Or that he just wants to force me to pay attention to him. Minions can be so hard to read.

"They've paid their tab, gummy guts. If you can keep your head out of the clouds for five seconds, there's a real opportunity walking through your front door."

Milkshake raises a hand to wave as he goes to his usual table. What my best friend lacks in beauty he makes up for in culinary brilliance. Not even Pete can rival my friend's love of food.

"Come on, Juhl. Let's have some fun with him."

Win never gets tired of pulling pranks. I toss a piece of gum into my mouth, blowing a good-sized bubble and popping it with a snap as I think it over. I can't let Win know how hilarious I think his jokes are or he'll scare away all my customers.

"All right, but nothing that breaks the health code. I don't need a bunch of demis in white going through our freezers again.

Win rolls his eyes, dislodging a trickle of caramel sauce that he catches in his mouth. "You are Mister Fun Kill. Fine, we'll keep it simple. Let's change the vanilla base to peppermint and sprinkle a few of those hot chili flakes in place of the dried strawberries he usually gets."

The look on Milk's face is priceless. I have his real order ready to go and hand it over with a roar of laughter as his face puckers as if he's just licked a lemon rind. You've just got to love Milk. He finishes his favorite and goes back to the gag dish, determined to never give up on a food item no matter how gross it is.

"You're one to laugh over a morsel, Juhl. Seriously, do you even eat? Just look at those little chow mein noodle legs of yours. It's a wonder they don't break like pretzel rods. Don't even get me started on the way you smell. Some hungry archan's going to mistake you for dessert one of these days. It should be illegal to smell like ice cream."

"It's gelato, dolt. You ought to know the difference with how many bowls of each you've gone through."

"Mister Fancy Flavoring." He gives me a good-natured shove that nearly sends me to the floor. Milk really has no idea of his own strength. "So tell me, did you ever get around to unloading the new shipment."

"Unpacked and safely put away where you can't sample them. I did save you this jar of chocolate sprinkles."

He downs the whole thing in the time it takes me to dig out a king-size sprinkle. They're the best toothpick you can hope for when your diet is one hundred percent sugar. It's a good thing my teeth are impervious to the usual effects though the dentists of Subeta hate me.

Milk starts rambling about what treats he hopes Melody will introduce this year but my attention is caught by a chelon who has clearly just come from the Sacred Lands. He walks past my shop wearing customary desert garments and sipping a smoothie that is totally native to Centropolis.

"Just close up shop and take your world cruise, Juhl. You'll never be happy until you do."

Milk has said it a thousand times and my reply is always the same. "I can't abandon the shop, Milk. Maybe in the winter when business is down."

Win bounces up and down, making little gooshing noises. "The big guy's right, Juhl. It isn't like wild hikeis are going to stampeded through here just because you're not behind the counter. I'm bored of looking at the same chipped tables and ugly booths. I want to get out and see Subeta as much as you do, though if you try to take me anywhere tropical I'll melt over the contents of your suitcase. Fair is fair."

Milk lays a brochure on the table, one that's full of colorful pictures and flashy descriptions of the fun activities offered by the Councilor's Cruise. The ticket he lays on top shines by the light of the globe overhead.

"You owe me a year of free gelato for this."

I hold out a pretzel-thin arm to shake on it.

Story by Pureflower

Credits: Profile by: Ringo | Shop and ice cream graphics designed by Freepik.com