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The 7 Most Terrifying Corporate Mascots of All
If this commercial was a horror movie, it would surely feature a friendly, 70 year old farmer who, on seeing this terror descending upon his farm, would let out a blood curdling scream and and take cover behind a bale of hay. But after noticing the Giant's calm, smiling face and gentle demeanor he would foolishly step from behind his makeshift shelter and attempt to make nice with a few stammering "H h hey buddy's" and an ice breaking "Are ya lost?"
All fears would be put to rest when Big Green magically produced a can of Niblets and bent down as if to make a peace offering to the gentle farmer. It's at that point our beloved farmer would be bludgeoned to death with the can of corn and promptly devoured.
We shudder to think where these neighborhood skip fests eventually ended. After earning the trust of neighborhood kids and parents through a series of fun filled group activities, the Candies Man would inevitably start popping up at "other" times.
Like when that one kid with the absentee father and the alcoholic mother happened to be walking home from school alone. Out of the blue, there stands the M Candies Man, smiling with that come hither grin with a half guzzled bottle of scotch in one hand, a bag of M in the other and a cigarette dangling from his lips.
Have we ever seen a more stark portrayal of the family devastated by drug addiction? While Victor Vicious and his tiny Cloverfield like offspring are busy wreaking havoc on defenseless grandma, Sugar Bear is nonchalantly sitting under a tree satiating his demons with a bowl of Crisp, terrifying in his apathy toward the situation, all like "evvvvvvvs maaaannnnn, I'll get to that bitch when I get to her. Quit harshing my mellow."
By the time he gets off his junkie ass and comes to grandma's rescue, the "vitamin stealer" has made a Hurricane Katrina like skeleton of her once proud abode.
Probably settling a drug debt of some sort. But honestly, this is the direction things were headed anyway. It's clear from this commercial that Sugar Bear was spiraling out of control. It wouldn't have been long before he was stealing grandma's shit, including the siding off her house, to support his habit. Once that well ran dry, it's just a matter of time before he's blowing some grizzly bear in the back of a van for an eighth of Crisp and half a grapefruit as part of his less than wholesome breakfast. As troubling as Bobby and his goth eye shadow is .he has nothing on Snap, Crackle Pop.
Notice how they just snapped and made that mushy cereal disappear? That's not a power that's generally limited to cereal. They could've done the same small van cleef necklace imitation to those three equally frightening mushy cereal henchmen. But they didn't. Because they wanted to fuck some shit up.
How do three mini guys who work in the breakfast cereal industry even develop such a propensity for random violence? There's really only one van cleef and arpels white gold alhambra necklace fake explanation. The whole cereal thing is just magic alhambra necklace copy a front; Snap, Crackle Pop are hired killers.
We're not sure why Bobby wanted those mushy dudes killed, but he knew where they would be and he knew who to call to get the job done.
Imagine if you will, that you're a kid who has just recently seen this commercial and you're young enough to actually believe it. You walk in the house one hot summer afternoon and request a snack. Next thing you know, without warning your dad says "Sure, champ!" The he tosses you an orange from across the kitchen. Suddenly, the seconds become hours as that little orange sphere of potential death comes hurling in your direction. Visions of your entire childhood flash before your eyes as you ponder why dear old dad would place you in such a precarious situation, your entire life depending on your ability to catch an orange.
Just as the orange reaches your trembling little hands, it caroms off your left middle finger and falls helplessly to the floor, at which point you turn and run screaming from the kitchen and out into the cold, cruel gaze of the other neighborhood kids who notice that you've just pissed your pants. Those kids then mock you relentlessly about the incident well into your high school years. Good luck coming out of that ordeal without a crippling drinking problem. While not altogether unpleasant tasting, they look like and (presumably) have the consistency of a heaping pile of bird shit wrapped in a corrugated cardboard sleeve. To help improve upon this unsavory image, the marketing forces at Fig Newtons came up with this:
We're not sure if that's what a fig looks like or if the damn things have garlic in them. Anyway, hate it all you want, but this just offers further evidence that the music industry is justified in valuing looks over talent. Sure, this guy may have nailed the oh so difficult choreography and hit every note with pinpoint accuracy, but if the second best auditioner looked even kind of normal, they should have gotten the job.
In this dude's disgusting hands, this looks less like a campy dance designed to get kids fired up about figs and more like a field sobriety test that's gotten completely out of hand.
This early version of Ronald McDonald isn't the most terrifying corporate mascot we've ever seen. It's the most terrifying anything we've ever seen.
If this commercial was a horror movie, it would surely feature a friendly, 70 year old farmer who, on seeing this terror descending upon his farm, would let out a blood curdling scream and and take cover behind a bale of hay. But after noticing the Giant's calm, smiling face and gentle demeanor he would foolishly step from behind his makeshift shelter and attempt to make nice with a few stammering "H h hey buddy's" and an ice breaking "Are ya lost?"
All fears would be put to rest when Big Green magically produced a can of Niblets and bent down as if to make a peace offering to the gentle farmer. It's at that point our beloved farmer would be bludgeoned to death with the can of corn and promptly devoured.
We shudder to think where these neighborhood skip fests eventually ended. After earning the trust of neighborhood kids and parents through a series of fun filled group activities, the Candies Man would inevitably start popping up at "other" times.
Like when that one kid with the absentee father and the alcoholic mother happened to be walking home from school alone. Out of the blue, there stands the M Candies Man, smiling with that come hither grin with a half guzzled bottle of scotch in one hand, a bag of M in the other and a cigarette dangling from his lips.
Have we ever seen a more stark portrayal of the family devastated by drug addiction? While Victor Vicious and his tiny Cloverfield like offspring are busy wreaking havoc on defenseless grandma, Sugar Bear is nonchalantly sitting under a tree satiating his demons with a bowl of Crisp, terrifying in his apathy toward the situation, all like "evvvvvvvs maaaannnnn, I'll get to that bitch when I get to her. Quit harshing my mellow."
By the time he gets off his junkie ass and comes to grandma's rescue, the "vitamin stealer" has made a Hurricane Katrina like skeleton of her once proud abode.
Probably settling a drug debt of some sort. But honestly, this is the direction things were headed anyway. It's clear from this commercial that Sugar Bear was spiraling out of control. It wouldn't have been long before he was stealing grandma's shit, including the siding off her house, to support his habit. Once that well ran dry, it's just a matter of time before he's blowing some grizzly bear in the back of a van for an eighth of Crisp and half a grapefruit as part of his less than wholesome breakfast. As troubling as Bobby and his goth eye shadow is .he has nothing on Snap, Crackle Pop.
Notice how they just snapped and made that mushy cereal disappear? That's not a power that's generally limited to cereal. They could've done the same small van cleef necklace imitation to those three equally frightening mushy cereal henchmen. But they didn't. Because they wanted to fuck some shit up.
How do three mini guys who work in the breakfast cereal industry even develop such a propensity for random violence? There's really only one van cleef and arpels white gold alhambra necklace fake explanation. The whole cereal thing is just magic alhambra necklace copy a front; Snap, Crackle Pop are hired killers.
We're not sure why Bobby wanted those mushy dudes killed, but he knew where they would be and he knew who to call to get the job done.
Imagine if you will, that you're a kid who has just recently seen this commercial and you're young enough to actually believe it. You walk in the house one hot summer afternoon and request a snack. Next thing you know, without warning your dad says "Sure, champ!" The he tosses you an orange from across the kitchen. Suddenly, the seconds become hours as that little orange sphere of potential death comes hurling in your direction. Visions of your entire childhood flash before your eyes as you ponder why dear old dad would place you in such a precarious situation, your entire life depending on your ability to catch an orange.
Just as the orange reaches your trembling little hands, it caroms off your left middle finger and falls helplessly to the floor, at which point you turn and run screaming from the kitchen and out into the cold, cruel gaze of the other neighborhood kids who notice that you've just pissed your pants. Those kids then mock you relentlessly about the incident well into your high school years. Good luck coming out of that ordeal without a crippling drinking problem. While not altogether unpleasant tasting, they look like and (presumably) have the consistency of a heaping pile of bird shit wrapped in a corrugated cardboard sleeve. To help improve upon this unsavory image, the marketing forces at Fig Newtons came up with this:
We're not sure if that's what a fig looks like or if the damn things have garlic in them. Anyway, hate it all you want, but this just offers further evidence that the music industry is justified in valuing looks over talent. Sure, this guy may have nailed the oh so difficult choreography and hit every note with pinpoint accuracy, but if the second best auditioner looked even kind of normal, they should have gotten the job.
In this dude's disgusting hands, this looks less like a campy dance designed to get kids fired up about figs and more like a field sobriety test that's gotten completely out of hand.
This early version of Ronald McDonald isn't the most terrifying corporate mascot we've ever seen. It's the most terrifying anything we've ever seen.
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