How far would you go to get your hands on a Kinder Bueno Ice-Cream?
“Well,” you might begin, “I’ve always considered myself a relatively upstanding citizen, ya know? Not necessarily a do-gooder, but at the least someone who takes a degree of pride in being a reliable member of society. I try not to litter, for example and I volunteer at a local soup kitchen – I’m not saying that, in the grand scheme of things, this makes me a hero or anything, I know that, but I know that it at least helps on some small level. However, the one thing I love more than anything else in this world – and I’m including my pets, wife and three of my four children in that bracket – is nut-infused ice-cream targeted specifically at children. The stuff’s like cat-nip to me. So, much as it pains me to say it, I’d go to pretty much any lengths to get my hands on a Kinder Bueno Ice-Cream. Any lengths. I’m talking up to and including murder here – though you can imagine that I’m far from proud to admit it.
Right, I more so meant ‘how far would you go’ in a geographical sense. As in, would you go to Cabra for one?
“Oh right… Yeah sure… Is that an option?”
Yes. There’s a shop in Cabra selling them.
“Great… Say, you wouldn’t by any chance be able to not publish all that stuff I just said about my wife and kids, would you?”
And the bit about considering murdering someone for an ice-cream?
“Yeah, that too actually.”
I’ll do my best.
All of that is perhaps the only truly fitting way to begin an article seeking to emphasis just how crazy, or ‘loco’, people go for all things Kinder Bueno-related. As such, it comes as no surprise that news of a Spar in Cabra having recently filled a chest-freezer to the gills with a frigid new stock-take of Kinder Bueno ice-cream has been met with such universal adulation.
Kinder have long since had a toe dipped into the world of ice-cream- confectionary-fusion, but have largely immune to the demands of their staunchest adherents all clamouring for the Kinder Bueno to be rendered as ice-cream. Now, after years of fannying about, they have – seemingly sensing that some kind of climate-change induced mass-extinction event is on the horizon – decided to throw us an olive-branch and have decided to allow us to live out our last few years on this rapidly overheating planet, in the soothing embrace of some hazelnut-infused ice-cream.
They appear to only have limited stocks, but given the seeming popularity it is surely only a matter of time before these are lining the depths of chest-freezers up and down the isle.
Lovely stuff.
