Monster Lab Candy

It’s time for me to get back in the saddle, and start reviewing candy again. Here is a giant syringe filled with edible goo and a beaker filled with edible goo. These are great because not only do they make realistic props for a lab room in a haunted house, but they’re doing double-work as candy. I purchased them for about two bucks each at one of the local pharmacy stores. As I was paying for them, the clerk examined the syringe for a few moments, and then asked, “have you ever tried one of these before?”

“No, sir, I have not tried a giant syringe of edible goo before.”

Actually, I awkwardly muttered no while fishing for my credit card in my wallet, since I’m not nearly as clever in real life. I can barely figure out that swipe card thingy. Every machine has different rules. Sometimes green means accept, sometimes it’s the red button. Sometimes the pen the works, and sometimes I have to jab at the screen with my finger. I’m usually too busy staring slack jawed at the thing to make conversation.

Maybe I’m just not cut out for clever banter with sales clerks. That’s better left to the jolly bastard in front of me, taking forever to tell a story to the cashier tapping her fingernails on the touchscreen. Oh, come on. Come on. COME ON BUDDY LET’S GO.

I love the packaging, from that mad scientist on the front to the nutritional label on the back. You got to love the serving size, “one syringe.” I also like how this is a “monster vaccine,” although it’s unclear whether this is a vaccine to prevent diseases in actual monsters or whether it’s a vaccine to prevent humans from becoming monsters. But right there, I’ve already overthought it.

It’s a giant syringe filled with goo. There’s little more than needs to be said.

It only comes filled up to the 40ml mark with the goo, which is pure sugar in a form about as close as you’re going to get to mainlining it directly into your veins. The other cool thing here is once you inject the sugar down your throat, what you have left is great prop for a costume or playing doctor with the dog.

It’s fun to eat too, by pressing down the syringe. The goo is not terribly thick, and it’s almost like a honey consistency. There were several colors/flavors in the store, and I chose the yellow because I thought it looked the most medicinal. This particular flavor is lemon, and I was surprised that it was pleasant tasting.

Overall, I have to give this one an A+. It’s candy. It’s a toy. It’s a way to pretend you’re taking drugs. And you can’t get much more kid-centered than that.

Next is the Monster Specimen, which is a beaker filled with preserving fluids and chunks of a monster. It looks like an eyeball and a finger. Over the years, I’ve seen prop beakers filled with wax and rubber eyeballs, but here’s one that you also eat. Fantastic!

This one also came in a variety of flavors, but I chose the green because it seemed the spookiest. The other reason I bought this is because the label was spooky too:

Apparently, this beaker contains FIVE servings, and each serving is one hundred calories. Five hundred calories! The spooky part is that constitutes an entire meal. I like how it specifies 1/5 Piece as a serving size. I’d like to see how you measure that liquid into pieces.

I had to think about the best way to sample this stuff. Should I just slug it from the beaker? I decided to be classy and get a glass.

As you can see, this stuff is thick. I thought it might be like a wobbly gelatin. I took a sip and almost gagged. It was syrup. That’s why it has the calories, because it’s made with green Mrs. Butterworths or something.

Talk about pretending to do drugs. We used to smoke candy cigarettes and chocolate cigars and pretend the Smarties were magic pills. Blame Disney cartoons. But this stuff is like actual drugs. Seriously. If I drank this whole cup of green syrup, I guarantee you I’d be hallucinating about waltzing bears and candy trains.

The last thing there was to do was to try the actual specimen. Except I couldn’t get it out. The gummies inside were larger than the opening of the beaker, creating a dilemma. But no problem, right? I could probably find something in the kitchen to stab it out.

I started with the obvious.

I figured there was no need to try and get cute about it. Let me just try to stab at it with the scissors. But no dice. So when scissors don’t work, it’s time to call in reinforcements.

And I needed something thinner and more delicate.

I tried a wine bottle opener. I lowered the screw part into the beaker and jabbed around. The screw part wasn’t quite long enough.

Oh well. Wine bottle openers are fun. They look like people.

Next I tried the big knife. It’s big. It carves. It stabs. It KILLLLLLLLLS. I stabbed around pathetically, desperately at the eyeball gummy. The eyeball was just too gooey. Nothing stuck in it.

Well then if it was going to be like that, I was just going to have to outsmart it.

It was time for the big guns. THE BIGGEST KNIFE IN THE HOUSE. YEAH. YEAH. YEAH. And I was finished with the poking and stabbing. Oh, I was going to SAW into the beaker. MWAHA HA HA AHAAHAHFGmbvfgiahkarth035235.

The girlfriend always says I don’t know how to use knives. Like I’m always using the wrong one. Apparently, there’s certain knives for slicing bread, certain knives to cut pears, to chop onions. Whatever. I just want to cut stuff. I really don’t have time to learn the intricacies of knives.

So maybe I was using the wrong knife or something, I don’t know. But I couldn’t cut into the plastic. I tried sawing. I tried a kamikaze karate chop. I foresaw myself slicing into my finger. So I gave up. I didn’t get in.

Overall, I’m giving the beaker a D. Makes a good prop, and possibly a good cough syrup, but even I wouldn’t give this to a kid. They’d guzzle it, without listening to the warning about loading up on syrup before dinner. It’s dangerous. And gross. And hey, I’m a little bitter about not getting the gummy finger inside.

5 thoughts on “Monster Lab Candy

  1. Awkward purchasing conversations are unfortunately the reviewer’s cross to bear. Your story reminded me of when I purchased my first Double Down and overenthusiastically asked the guy ahead of me who was buying one if he’d been waiting with baited breath for it to come out like I had. His dull-eyed expression and monotone “no” response reminded me why I don’t talk to strangers.

    I also made the walk of shame up to the register at Walgreen’s with only a novelty Halloween candy in hand. I thought about buying suppositories or a can of nuts to sort of “soften the purchase”, but decided to man up and call a spade a spade. Thankfully the teenager who rang up my $1.99 purchase was too bored to death to care.

    These are my stories. *chonk chonk*

  2. Why is it that the syringe looks like it’s orange in every picture except for the last one, where you introduce the beaker? I thought it was orange flavor, until you said it was lemon. Is it the lighting, the packaging or the wood it’s displayed on? It’s still a win in my book.

    And KFC double downs are the shit!!

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