He grinned. “Worth it.”
It wasn’t named after its creator, old Mrs. Badcock, as most assumed. The name came from what it did to you. One lick, and you’d feel a little bad . Not evil — just mischievous. A sudden urge to hide your neighbor’s garden gnome. To swap the salt and sugar. To answer a serious question with a pun. badcock lolly
The lolly itself was a strange, clouded amber color, swirled with faint red veins, like a fossilized sunset. It tasted of burnt caramel, sea salt, and something unnamed — rosemary, perhaps, or distant thunder. He grinned