They’re Labeling Your Candy ‘PUMPKIN’ But It’s Not Pumpkin Flavored. CONSPIRACY!
I was at Duane Reade last week and as I was purchasing some almonds at the checkout I noticed something deliciously, autumnal: a slew of my favorite candy bars in PUMPKIN FLAVOR. I ran back to the CC office and told Alex that we must do a taste test of our favorite pumpkin flavored candies and write reviews for you guys. Secretly I just wanted free pumpkin candy. Alex agreed that I was a brilliant genius and should be paid $1,000,000 a year for the incredible ideas I come up with while shopping at popular pharmacies. I agreed with her but out of modesty and selflessness I declined the promotion and decided to continue to live below the poverty line because I am noble and being noble means you are poor or something poetic like that. ~PO3TRY~
I had a MASSIVE budget of $10 so I was not going to be frugal. I purchased every single Russell Stovers Pumpkin Candy. These came in assorted flavors like Red Velvet and Dark Chocolate Orange. “Those sound disgusting when mixed with Pumpkin. Delicious! I can’t wait!” I declared with glee as I hoarded chocolates in my armpits because I was too practical and intelligent for a shopping basket.
I snatched a couple of Reese’s Peanut Butter: PUMPKIN. The giant letters PUMPKIN swirled in the scope of my third eye. The phrase, “PUMPKIN,” echoed in my brain. “Was I the new Queen Bee?” Lindsay Lohan’s voice from Mean Girls reverbed against the drums of my ears. Yes, YES I WAS THE NEW QUEEN BEE!
I gathered Snickers: PUMPKIN. What hubristic mortal would try to improve upon such chocolatey perfection? OZYMANDIAS, FOR CERTAIN. Needless to say I was becoming skeptical of my three-way pumpkin flavored rendezvous with milk chocolate, sweet, sweet artificial flavors and high fructose corn syrup.
Then—ALAS—HARK—I KNOW WHY THE CAGE BIRD SINGS—I saw Pumpkin Spiced Candy Corn then pondered if I should have accepted that $1,000,000 raise. I brought the candies to Alex she said, “These are not pumpkin flavored. They’re shaped like pumpkins.”
I LAUGHED IN HER STUPID FACE. “HAHA!” I YELLED. “WHY WOULD THEY WRITE PUMPKIN IN GIGANTIC LETTERS ON THE PACKAGING UNLESS THEY TASTED LIKE THE NECTAR OF THE GODS, LIKE THE FRUIT OF CHOICE IN THE GARDEN OF EDEN, LIKE THE SWEAT OF BRITNEY SPEARS? WHY WOULD THEY LIE?”
Alex said, “No. It’s pumpkin shaped.” We opened each candy to find amorphous blobs that slightly resembled a pumpkin shape. My hopes were still up. We created a charcuterie of drug store candy. We tasted each. My mind exploded with a rush of sugar. I didn’t taste pumpkin in the Reese’s but maybe it was psychosomatic, maybe there was pumpkin flavor but since I was just told there wasn’t I couldn’t taste it. Alex said, “See, it doesn’t taste like pumpkin.” MY JUDGEMENT WAS CLOUDED.
I tried the Snickers. No Pumpkin. The Russell Stovers. No Pumpkin. I crawled under my desk in the fetal position. Alex said, “See. It’s just pumpkin shaped.” Her words bounced off my synapses hitting brain receptors and releasing the rage hormone IDGAF-Q20 into my cerebral cortex. Combined with a sugar high I smashed my head into my computer keyboard. “AARGH PUMPKIN!!!!” I belched.
“I told you it doesn’t taste like Pumpkin,” Alex said. “AAAAAAAAAAAARGH,” I bellowed. Instead of ripping Alex’s head off and replacing it with a pumpkin like I should have, I instead took that $1,000,000 raise. I am now living in Ibiza and am happily married to Kanye West. We have two dogs, two boyfriends and two ranch style homes.
The moral of the story is: DO NOT BELIEVE IN FALSE PROPHETS