Anyone got an ice cream van?

curse word I wish I still had the bay... That would have been perfect... Just put a plastic icecream on top and the lil tune thing....

Was a big white factory hightop , Lowered on carlton GSI wheels.... would have loved to have seen that on film haha...

Like this....



If thats your cuppa tea you might wanna ask on vzi... Theres a few about still... Bit few and far between as people don't seem to like them

I want an ice cream van, so i can paint it black with skulls and stuff on it, a scary clown face on the roof, play Toccata in fuge over the tannoy and drive it past schools at lunctime giving kids nightmares.

Is there not someone on here (in Blackpool?) who has a Hustler icecream van like this?:

I have two icies on the books, but the Mk1 transit is in Sunderland and the other Mk2 transit (West London) works for a living, and is probably tucked up on a SORN by now. That's the problem you are going to come up against, working vans are often taken off the road in winter, so it would take some money to get them back out again. If you wait till the summer you are looking at a good few hundred a day as that's what they make when the sun shines. Also, it could be a bit hit and miss if the owner of a working van likes your project. Good luck anyway, and have a look at www.a2ecommercials.webs.com for more info.......

Here is the script i was wrong bout the cannibalism that's a different film he's working on. This is one he's doin with his mate who also wrote the script called Jimmy Johnson.

"The Ice-Cream Men.

A dark street in Liverpool. An ice-cream van, alone, drives down the street. Its bell and song are off. It is driven by a middle-aged man in a white jacket and hat, and next to him is Johnny, dressed casually. Johnny looks uncomfortable. “Moribund the Burgermeister” by Peter Gabriel plays, and is then heard on the radio, at the sinister “I will find out” part, as we join them in the cab.

J: I don’t want to do it, dad. I’m not ready.

D: Rubbish, son. You’ll be fine. I did it much younger than you, and look at me now. Van and shop supply franchise of me own, and Graves ice-cream tubs in every cash and carry dessert section this side of the Tyne.

J: But dad-

D: I’ll hear no more about it son, we’re here. You’ll make us proud. I know it.

Johnny unconvinced. Crapping himself. The van approaches a large steel gate. Sam turns on the chimes. The first half of the first phrase of “If You Go Down In The Woods Today” sounds. The second phrase, after a few seconds, plays back from within the compound. The gates open, and the van is driven in.

We see a large room in an ice-cream factory. Rows of white-clad men are lined up to make an aisle. At their head is a large throne with two 99s as rear legs. Johnny and Sam walk to the near end of the row and stand facing each other.

Ice-Cream Brother 1: Silence! For the gaffer!

All the men stiffen and look to the door. “Greensleeves” chimes from a PA system. An elderly man enters to it. He wears white, with “99” flakes around his neck, and a golden ice-cream cone (actual size) as a hat. He walks solemnly, his red cape held off the ground by two other men in white, with smaller red capes. His cape has a mystical symbol of two crossed 99s drawn in hundreds-and-thousands. He sits on the throne. His acolytes stand either side.

Gaffer: Good evening, brothers.

(Murmur of response)

Tonight, we see before us a young hopeful, eager to enter our organisation. He will be tested to our own exacting standards. He will, as have we all, attempt to create our secret ice-cream. Should he succeed, he will join our ranks, and receive the support of the loyal brotherhood in his quest to bring fresh, soft, refreshing ice-cream to the people of this land. Should he fail, he will pay...the ultimate price.

(General murmur of anticipation and apprehension)
Johnny looks at Sam in terror, who merely nods, eyes widened, calmly.

J: What the hell is the ultimate price?

Gaffer: Jonathan Graves! Are you prepared for the ultimate test of your whippy dispensing abilities?

J: I-

Sam: Just do it how I told you Johnny, just do it right. Make us proud son.

G: Are you prepared, Jonathan?

J: I...(looks at Sam again, he nods again)...I am prepared to create the closest guarded and most terrible secret of the dairy snack world. To face the challenge presented me by my milk-and-flake brethren.

G: Then approach you...the tank.

The brethren part to allow Johnny to approach an ice-cream van tank, with dispensing handle and cone stack. With “If you go down to the woods today” playing slowly, in horror-film kiddies’ nursery style, in the background, he walks slowly to it, aware of the gaze, rapt, of the many white coated men upon him. He grips the handle, and takes a single cone. A small child enters and stands before him, wearing a scarlet mask, covered in blood red hundreds-and-thousands, which covers his face entirely. Johnny gulps, Sam begins to sweat.

J: Alright, young man. What can I get you?

A sigh of relief from the ice-cream vendors.

Child: (Solemnly) A 99 please, mister.

Johnny closes his eyes, and opens them again. He begins to curl the ice-cream into the cone. All eyes are upon him. It is going well. He relaxes, just a little. He pours sauce on the ice-cream, and sprinkles hundreds-and-thousands on top. He takes the boy’s pound coin. He hands the cone to the boy.

The boy takes the cone, and looks at it. There is a terrible pause, and Johnny sweats profusely, as does Sam. He looks up again.

Child: Where’s my flake?

A low murmur from the assembled crowd.

C: (Turning to the crowd, raising the cone) Where’s my FLAKE?

The crowd begin to shout in a low fashion, in despair and agony. Johnny is panicking, turning his head to and fro, he calls to Sam, who looks imploringly at the Gaffer.

G: SILENCE! Jonathan Graves. You have failed to successfully complete the dispensing of the secret snack. You can never join the ranks of our softly-whipped brotherhood. However, you now know too much of our organisation to be allowed to go free, to live as you have done before. You must suffer the ultimate punishment for your failure. You will be taken from here, to a place of cream storage, and you will become one with that cream, until you are a man no more... (almost a whisper) Take him away.

The assembled crowd roar and shout, while acolytes 1 and 2 take Johnny by the arms and drag him up some steps to a large vat of ice-cream, vanilla flavoured.

J: No! No, you can’t do this! It’s wrong! No! Help me! For the love of God help me! Wait, dad! Dad! You can’t let them do this!

Crowd is silent.

S: I’m sorry, Johnny boy. You knew the risks.

J: But dad...but I’m your son. For God’s sake I’m your son!

Short pause.

Sam looks at the Gaffer, who raises his head, maintaining eye contact.

Pause.

S: I have no son.

Sam turns and walks away, a tear in his eye. Behind him we see Johnny having been mobbed and bound by the mob, shouting and wailing, being lowered into the vat by the acolytes, the mob roaring and squirting him with sauces. A flake is ceremoniously put between his teeth like a gag before he is lowered. The Gaffer looks on solemnly, while the chimes on the PA play ”Whistle While You Work” at half speed. We see Sam exit the room and shut the door. As he does so, the chimes cease and the scene cuts with the sound of the door clanging shut.




Yo, this is the script. We will probably need the ice cream van in about a month the actor will have to drive it throuh liverpool so will need insurance. Anything else you need to know gimme a shout"

Cheers ears I'll tell my bro useful info there!!