Montblack writes:

In the late 60's we'd bike over to the local DQ and order ourselves up a
Mister Misty "Bomb" ...which was a bunch of colors mixed together. Oh, to be
nine years old again, with a quarter burning a hole in your pocket. g

Today, if you asked for a "bomb" in a restaurant, you'd be surrounded
by a SWAT team in a few minutes, the neighborhood would be evacuated,
and you'd be held incognito for three years in a jail without being
charged.

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