I'd Sell Your Child's Soul for a Chipwich

"Hello ma'am. Yes it is a lovely day. Is this your little 'bundle of joy'? Wow, so precious and so innocent. I bet you're the proudest parent on the beach. But you know, I'm so craving a Chipwich right now that'd I'd offer up your child's soul just for one, creamy, tasty bite of vanilla ice cream hugged in that delectable cookie sandwich."

"Why are you upset? How exactly is your kid better than a Chipwich? No. I won't take 'are you serious?!' for an answer. You're just yelling and calling out for the cops because you don't have any proof that your child can measure up to that classic ice cream treat. I, on the other hand, can offer myriad reasons. First, a Chipwich can be had for a couple of bucks while your little brat will cost you hundreds of thousands of dollars in doctors' bills, tuition costs, clothes shopping, diapers, and so on. Second, the nasty stench of digested strained-peas and breast milk coming for your child offends the nose in a way a Chipwich would never dare to do. And finally, unless I'm mistaken, your child has absolutely no chocolate chips, something a Chipwich has in spades."

"Lady, calling me 'psychotic' isn't going to change the fact that the little piss-shooter in that wicker basket with wheels you call a stroller wouldn't last a minute in the frozen food section of the local Wawa. You're not going to win me over with any of your 'joy of parenting' crap. Even if that kid grows up to be President Superman and moonlights as 'Jesus', he still will never be as awesome as a Chipwich on a hot summer day."

"Please excuse me, I'm going to go find an ice cream man who takes children's souls as payment. Great talking to you. Enjoy the rest of your day."