This week's drink was made possible in part by a firey hot mass of helium locked in a hellstorm of fusion reactions for billions of years, fueling the complex interactions of organic carbon molecules on the surface of a tiny spheroid of iron and silicon as they drift in an endless dance through the nether reaches of a wayward brilliant galactic sea. Also in part by a trained rescue cow named Gertie. But back to the sun. We don't know how hot it is where you live right now, but where we live, our whole stock of weekly adventures is in danger of evaporating. We saw a bird fly into the direct sunlight and burst into flames. Everything in the editor's office just spontaneously combusted about a half-hour ago. It probably helped that it was all soaked in creosote overnight, and one of the temps kind of accidentally shot a flaming arrow through his window from a hilltop near the building, but if you see the fire inspectors, it was spontaneous. Thankfully though, we now get the rest of the day off, so we figured we'd go play some beach volleyball, maybe hang out with some supermodels, you know, the usual. We've got our sunscreen with SPF Hot Firey Death on, so we'll be ok for about 20 minutes. Maybe by then it will have cooled off a bit. If not, it'll be a good thing we've got Gertie.

P.S. This drink requires both ice and ice cream. Obviously, it will need to be cool enough where you live in order for such things to still exist in solid form. Since we don't live in the vacuum of space, we found this difficult.