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Dora wiped sweat from her brow, the midday sun blazing overhead as she positioned her pastel-painted ice cream cart at the bustling boardwalk’s prime corner. Her mission: unload every last scoop before the beach crowd vanished at sunset. She adjusted the hand-drawn “Tropical Twist Special!” sign, its glitter glue shimmering to catch eyes, then rehearsed her pitch—friendly but firm. Regulars craved her mango-chili pops, but tourists needed convincing. A group of kids sprinted past, sand flying, and she seized the moment. “Who’s ready for a *free* sprinkle upgrade?” she called, grinning as they skidded to a halt. The cart’s bell jingled nonstop as she swapped jokes for coins, mentally tracking inventory: six vanilla cones left, three matcha swirls, and the experimental lychee-mint nobody’d touched. By 4 p.m., her apron pockets bulged with cash, but rival vendor Marco’s discount喇叭 ads threatened her momentum. Time for phase two. She flicked on the battery-powered twinkle lights, transforming the cart into a neon beacon, and unleashed her secret weapon—a sample tray of lychee-mint drizzled with chili honey. Curiosity beat skepticism. By dusk, only the freezer’s hum remained, echoing her exhausted smirk. Tomorrow, she’d triple the lychee batch.
