Such is a fearful premise! I, Garimto, fear the germ, always poised to strike. For that which is a lick, true lick, the popsicle shall always reign tall. Lick of color and flash, with infinite potential for flavor, further unlocking the delicate mysteries within.
Such is a core? Enigmatic taste of wood? Cream? With the feat of popsicle, parameters are unknown.