The Candy That Hates You Back

Good news! You are only 24 hours (plus five business days for standard shipping) from eating this:


The Albert Belle Bar, a concoction of crisp rice covered in rich, milk chocolate, made rancid by eighteen years of oxidation and disappointment.

Note, of course, that you will have to outbid the rest of the world: its insatiable gourmands, seeking a new thrill after dabbling in coelacanth and human hamstring, the chemists seeking to disintegrate it and sprinkle its essence onto fugu and kale chips, and the secret militias who will stockpile them with the other chemical weapons underground in steel chambers, awaiting the coming anarchy.

But you will vanquish them all. You will unwrap that shiny wrapper, taking care not to tear Albert’s face, and take a bite of that forbidden treasure, whereupon it will assault your tastebuds like a poorly-placed cameraman. And you will know what living truly is.

It will not be enough, of course; existence never is. Soon you’ll find yourself staring at the monitor, eyes bloodshot, at two in the morning, refreshing eBay to find the Pronk Bar with a Buy It Now listing. But that’s tomorrow. For now, gather your rosebuds while ye may.

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Patrick Dubuque is a wastrel and a general layabout. Many of the sites he has written for are now dead. Follow him on Twitter @euqubud.

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What IS that shit on kale chips anyway? I just finished an entire bag from Trader Joe’s not having the slightest clue what I was even eating. Like mushrooms, bouillon, and old house smell ground into an orange dust.


Indeed. I have made some at home sprinkled with some salt and cumin and tossed in the oven that were ok. Store bought ones were awful.