There are many things wrong with this picture, all of which have to do with the existence of the product strategically blocking my wide-eyed face.
I brought these back for my friend Andrew as a gag gift when I was in Cape Cod earlier this month because, come on, they’re bacon gumballs.
I also had the (mis)fortune of being present when he unwrapped the plastic, at which point the repugnant odor of factory-manufactured fake bacon launched an unforgiving assault on my olfactory sense.
Daring to hold the tin this close to my nose was nothing compared to what happened when Andrew flipped up the lid to reveal a group of not-so-innocent little red gumballs.
Eau de bacon was increasing in offensiveness — even for a pair of carnivores like us. Then came the first bite, unleashing the full flow of foul flavour on my remaining taste buds, each chew more onerous than the next, driving every last drop of industralized bacon juice deeper, enhancing the bad bacon bang.
Andrew then shut the tin, slipped it into his bag and spoke of ways to foist them on unsuspecting friends and “friends.”
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
But you already knew that.