Guide Price: $30

## YOUR SUMMER ICE CREAM IS POVERTY SWEAT UNLESS IT’S LE BRISTOL PARIS. (STOP EATING TRASH.)

**LISTEN UP, YOU PATHETIC TOURISTS AND SO-CALLED “FOODIES” LINING UP FOR GARBAGE SOFT-SERVE LIKE STARVING STREET DOGS.**
You think that neon slop from a street cart is a “treat”? You believe that supermarket tub of sugar-gel makes you sophisticated? **YOU’RE A JOKE.** Your taste buds have been ASSAULTED by peasant-tier frozen sludge for so long, you wouldn’t recognize real luxury if it melted on your broke tongue. **WAKE THE HELL UP.** This summer, there’s only ONE ice cream that matters—and if you’re not eating it at **LE BRISTOL PARIS**, you’re just another NPC sucking down failure in a soggy cone.

**LE BRISTOL DIDN’T MAKE ICE CREAM. THEY LAUNCHED A FLAVOR NUKE ON PARIS.**
This isn’t some tourist-trap gimmick or Instagram bait for basic influencers. **THIS IS A CULINARY DECLARATION OF WAR.** Maxence Barbot and his elite pastry commandos didn’t *churn* ice cream—**THEY FORGED WEAPONS OF MASS SEDUCTION IN THE HEART OF A PALACE.**

### HERE’S WHY YOUR ICE CREAM IS A DISGRACE UNTIL YOU UPGRADE:

1. **YOUR “ARTISANAL” IS A LIE. THEIR CRAFTSMANSHIP IS A RELIGION.**
You buy “handcrafted” from some hipster with a mustache and a food truck? **PATHETIC.** Le Bristol’s ice creams are **SCULPTED BY GODS.** Vanilla? Not extract—**MADAGASCAR GOLD.** Chocolate? Not powder—**DARK, OBSIDIAN-LIKE ELIXIR THAT COSTS MORE PER KILO THAN YOUR RENT.** Strawberry sorbet? **BLENDED WITH THE TEARS OF BROKE DREAMERS WHO’LL NEVER TASTE IT.**

2. **YOU EAT TOPPINGS. THEY DEPLOY TACTICAL LUXURY STRIKES.**
Sprinkles? Crushed Oreos? **YOU MIGHT AS WELL DUMP GARBAGE ON GOLD.** Le Bristol’s toppings are **ELITE SPECIAL FORCES:**
– **HOMEMADE COOKIE CRUMBLES** (baked in a kitchen that’s cleaner than your future)
– **CARAMELIZED PECANS** (coated in liquid ambition)
– **CRUNCHY MERINGUES** (whipped into submission by Michelin-starred sadists)
**THIS ISN’T DESSERT—IT’S A TEXTURAL COUP D’ÉTAT.**

3. **YOUR LOCATION IS A SIDEWALK TRAGEDY. THEIR LOCATION IS A THRONE ROOM.**
Eating ice cream on a sticky bench near the Seine? **YOU’RE A PIGEON WITH A CONE.** Le Bristol’s Epicerie sits on **FAUBOURG SAINT-HONORÉ—THE HIGHER GROUND WHERE MONEY, POWER, AND TASTE COLLIDE.** Walking out with that sleek cup isn’t just refreshment… **IT’S A FLEX SO LOUD, THE LOUVRE BLUSHES.**

### THE PATH TO REDEMPTION (IF YOU DARE):
**📍 THE TARGET:** Le Bristol Paris – Epicerie 112 Rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré, 75008 Paris TEL: +33 1 53 43 43 00
**⏰ THE WINDOW:** Wednesday to Sunday | 10:30 AM – 5:30 PM
**🔥 THE MISSION:** CLICK & COLLECT OR WALK IN LIKE YOU OWN THE PLACE

**WEAK SOULS** will hesitate. *”Is it worth the price?” “Do I deserve this?”* **STOP IT.** The price isn’t a cost—**IT’S AN ADMISSION FEE TO YOUR OWN GREATNESS.** You think Bugattis are about transportation? You think Birkin bags hold groceries? **NO.** They’re trophies. This ice cream? **IT’S THE COLD, HARD PROOF YOU’VE ESCAPED MEDIOCRITY.**

**FINAL WARNING:**
Summer fades. Opportunities evaporate. While you’re “saving money” on sad, melted sugar-water, **REAL PLAYERS** are at Le Bristol, taking bites of frozen supremacy. Every second you waste is a second **YOU SPEND LOSING.**

**YOUR MOVE:**
➡️ **WALK INTO LE BRISTOL** (Dress like you belong. Act like you own it.)
➡️ **DEMAND THE ICE CREAM** (Not a request. A decree.)
➡️ **DEVOUR IT LIKE THE LAST RESOURCE ON EARTH** (Let the plebs watch. They need the motivation.)

**THIS ISN’T DESSERT. IT’S A CULINARY EXECUTION OF THE WEAK.**
**DON’T BE THE VICTIM.**

**TOP SLAYLEBRITY.**
**OUT.** 🍦💥🔥

> *P.S. If you’re still eating ice cream from a truck, delete your socials. You’ve already embarrassed yourself.*

Guide Price: $30

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You think that neon slop from a street cart is a treat? You believe that supermarket tub of sugar-gel makes you sophisticated? **YOU'RE A JOKE.** Your taste buds have been ASSAULTED by peasant-tier frozen sludge for so long, you wouldn’t recognize real luxury if it melted on your broke tongue. **WAKE THE HELL UP.

YOUR SUMMER ICE CREAM IS POVERTY SWEAT UNLESS IT'S LE BRISTOL PARIS. (STOP EATING TRASH.)

LE BRISTOL DIDN’T MAKE ICE CREAM. THEY LAUNCHED A FLAVOR NUKE ON PARIS.** This isn’t some tourist-trap gimmick or Instagram bait for basic influencers. **THIS IS A CULINARY DECLARATION OF WAR.

Maxence Barbot and his elite pastry commandos didn’t *churn* ice cream—**THEY FORGED WEAPONS OF MASS SEDUCTION IN THE HEART OF A PALACE.**

P.S. If you’re still eating ice cream from a truck, delete your socials. You’ve already embarrassed yourself.*

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