The Big Red Pump

I slammed both blue hands down on the heavy chrome plunger of the giant red ketchup dispenser! Squirt-thwack! A thick, glossy ribbon of bright red sauce splattered straight across a golden french fry sitting in my paper boat. Back at the North Pole, bright red only marks blizzard danger zones, but here it smells like tangy, sweet sunshine. I snatched up the smothered fry with both paws and shoved it straight into my mouth. Warm, salty crunch with a zesty blast of pure vacation sauce! My pink plush starfish tucked in my shirt pocket watched every bite as I polished off the basket like a true resort champion.