The 8 Most Baffling Food Mascots of All-Time
If you're ever diagnosed with crippling insanity, you can always get a job designing corporate mascots. For instance: Orville Redenbacher used a reanimated corpse as their spokesperson. Yummy Mummy has one too, and both of them are perfect examples of what happens after you die when you're killed by Snuggle Bear. My point is, most mascots are crazy, and here are the food industry's eight craziest.
Please note that I did not include the Grape Nuts character Volto From Mars on this list because this is a "craziest" list, not a "best" list.
Kool-Aid Man -- Kool-Aid
Wilford Brimley -- Quaker Oats
Wilford Brimley was way too tough for breakfast commercials. He looks like someone taught a pile of walrus leather how to fight. He talks like your ears just came out of the closet and he's disappointed in them. This was the guy who killed all the dogs with a fire ax in John Carpenter's The Thing. He exploded a team of human hunters from horseback in Hard Target. He will punch your heart out for having Type-2 adult-onset diabetes. Shit, Wilford Brimley was even kind of tough in Ewoks: Battle for Endor, and that's the official movie of corrective hermaphrodite surgery. Why was this man selling strawberries & cream instant oatmeal? Was Bolo Yeung busy or something?
Bigg Mixx -- Kellogg's Bigg Mixx
Peter Wheat -- Peter Wheat Bread
The weird thing about Peter Wheat is that he was awesome. He was a toddler the size of a pubic louse, and most of his world was made out of cupcake, but his adventures were sword-clashing killing sprees. He wasn't prancing through meadows and singing about the pep you get from enriched wheat flour. He was punching birds in the face and driving axes into hamsters. And there was no whimsy in his fighting style -- he was all business. Peter lived his life by a single code: Shut up and fight. The second any woodland fuck looked at him wrong, he drove the nearest object into its brain, never saying a word. Peter let the screams of his enemies do the talking.
No one really knows what happened to Peter Wheat, but he was the most powerful 2-inch creature on the planet before Kim Jong-il promoted his penis to Colonel. Please enjoy more fine examples of this brave bread hero's silent ass-kickings:
Krinkles the Clown -- Post's Sugar Rice Krinkles
Krinkles the Clown.
Snap!, Crackle! and Pop! -- Kellogg's Rice Krispies
The three younger elves were like a manifestation of all the nation's fears at the time. They teamed up to finish their sentences like they either shared some kind of communist hivemind or were involved in a long term same-sex marriage.
The King -- Burger King
Burger King Kingdoms started disappearing as the '80s arrived and the restaurant went back to making joyless hamburgers using the selling point of: "We heat food with real fire!" This went on for 20 years until The King came back. Now he's 7-feet-tall and wearing a ceaselessly staring plastic face. His costume is how a serial killer would transport a gagged prostitute on the subway. In all seriousness, the mask had to be painstakingly soundproofed so the other actors in the commercials couldn't hear the maggots squirming inside it. The King is what Satan's girlfriend dresses as to spice up their love life.
Popsicle Pete -- Popsicles
Let's go back to the beginning.
In 1939, a 13-year-old named Carl McCready was a finalist in a nation-wide "Typical American Boy" contest. This was unexpected, since he has no memory of entering. He immediately left alone for New York because what's the worst that could happen?
Carl won! He was just that typical. They spelled his name wrong when they announced it, but that didn't matter since now that Carl was the "Typical American Boy," he was given a new name: "Popsicle Pete." Little Carl thought, That's weird, but still -- hooray! Little Carl thought, I'm going to be a star! Oh, Carl. The darkness never laughs, but if it did, this would be the time for it.
These horrible adventures went on for years and when "Popsicle Pete" vanished, no one noticed, including Carl. A few months later, he reappeared in half-page advertisements that were almost criminally boring. It's like all his early adventures were just a testing ground for some advanced new type of pointlessness. Poor typical Carl McCready was having the happiness slowly squeezed out of him. Decomposing fruit leads a more interesting life than "Popsicle Pete." Take a look at this bullshit:
Imagine if it was your job to teach people lessons like "teachers are actual humans!" How long would it take until you went mad? A year? Six months? For little Carl McCready the answer is far less. These new "Popsicle Pete" ads vanished almost immediately. Carl didn't appear in comic books for a year. To the rest of the world, his suffering seemed to finally be over. The rest of the world was mistaken, and it was going to pay.
A year after his disappearance, the night's cervix opened and gave him back to us. But he wasn't the same. The old "Popsicle Pete" was gone. His name was no longer something he won in a contest. It was him. Popsicle Pete was among us.
His adventures became dark orgies of madness. Behold his deeds.
There is no escape, no place to hide.
None of you are safe.
