THE INVISIBLE MAN - You Are Seen

Even by the 1960s, the concept of "Universal Monsters" was already a niche of nostalgia for older folks, which meant that a whole new wave of pop culture properties would befall the youth of yesteryear: model kits, Halloween costumes, paperbacks & magazines, The Munsters, etc. You could say it even carried over into the 70s when Count Chocula and the gang appeared on the scene, but as the mood changed with the times (especially in Cinema), what was once spooky quickly became hokey. Clearly these cursed souls who haunted atmospheric woods and cobwebby castles held no weight when placed against a maniac with a chainsaw pirouetting across a Texas highway, or a prepubescent girl abusing herself with a crucifix. And then obviously by 1980s Horror standards, these black & white baddies became more like kitschy curiosities that were to be mocked by syndicated Horror Hosts.

As a kid, I dressed as Dracula for 2 nonconsecutive Halloweens. I knew Young Frankenstein by heart. An American Werewolf in London was a staple of my local commercial and independent TV stations. I had a brief but lusty affair with The Monster Squad. In the 80s, the Classic Monsters probably played a bigger part in my life than the popular Slashers of the moment, and I'm sure a lotta that actually had to do with the Halloween holiday itself; even today, nearly all of the season's candy and decor and general aesthetic is tied to these old-fashioned characters. And then, beginning in 1991, the Universal Monsters would embark on their biggest decade to date - and it began with junk food.

This was during a time when the General Mills Monster Cereals were in stores all year round, and when you combine that with trick-or-treating, it's safe to say several generations associated this gang of zombies and mutants with snacks. Then, during the Halloween season of '91, Pepsi and Doritos crossed the streams to bring us their "Monster Match" promotion: a game distributed through specially marked packages of their products that gave us a chance to win cash & prizes. I was 8 so I didn't care about the details, I was just excited to see these cool monsters all over my TV and grocery store. And cool they were: PepsiCo and Frito-Lay had the coveted Universal license to depict these creatures with their original likenesses of Bela, Boris, Elsa, and Lon, which I can attest played a huge part in the overall vibe. These food companies used the monsters as mascots for several years to come, but it was the following year, in 1992, when the biggest revival commenced. 

If you've been here before then you've probably read my ramblings about the obsession I had with Bram Stoker's Dracula - not as much as with the movie itself, but the ghoulishly slick ad campaign that seduced me into believing that nothing had ever been this cool or scary. More than anything, I think the revelation that something that had been kinda antiquated and campy could be reinvented into something modern and stylish; Dracula had always been cool to me, but now I was confronted with the concept that he could be legitimately frightening. I don't remember the commercials or the merchandise for Mary Shelley's Frankenstein or Wolf (both in 1994) going quite as hard, but by that point I was already reading all about them in Fangoria Magazines for several years in the early 90s. The Universal Monsters (which were now technically The Columbia/TriStar Monsters) became much more important to me than the juvenile fare that was Batman or the Ninja Turtles. But within the whirlwind of this Horror hoopla in which I became immersed, I was too bloodthirsty to notice that there had already been a fourth addition to this Mount Rushmore of revamped icons, and it was conveniently something I was already into.

John Carpenter's Memoirs of an Invisible Man came out in February of 1992 - nine months before the release of Coppola's Dracula movie. I didn't see it until it came out on video, but that still probably would've been before the Dracula promotions started filling my head. But that didn't matter because intellectually I wouldn't have made any connection between a Chevy Chase FX Comedy and Count Dracula; even if I'd had the wherewithal (I didn't) to categorize them both as Classic Monsters, I still only considered Chevy to be an invisible man, not The Invisible Man. And it definitely took some distance for these semantics to sorta die down and allow me to realize that, yeah, they really did reboot the Universal rogues' gallery for my generation; I'm also inclined to include 1989's Phantom of the Opera and Disney's Hunchback of Notre Dame in '96 to the list, just as much as I include Helena Bonham Carter's character arc in Frankenstein as an adequate revival of Bride of Frankenstein. I don't think this is me just making some casual Pop Culture observations with these loose ties - I can categorically say that these monsters were hot in the 90s. Vampires obviously reigned supreme, but all the other name brand baddies were constantly showing up in advertising and toys and fashion and Young Adult Fiction. All but one who, for the most part, typically went largely unseen.

The Invisible Man was only ever peripherally part of the Pepsi party in the 90s, but they did logically elect him as the mascot for Crystal Pepsi during the '92 Halloween season (and rightly goddamn so!). But apart from being transparent, there's probably a greater analogy between The Invisible Man and Crystal Pepsi - both a fleeting novelty that rarely gets included at the popular kids' table. The character's borderline rejection didn't bother me much when I was getting way into these creatures - clearly the popular ones were way cooler anyway, with more color and personality and backstory. And scarier - what's The Invisible Man gonna do, drop your drawers for everyone to see? Of course I'm speaking objectively - while I didn't actively protest his general absence from the culture, I always did take notice whenever he did pop up in the conversation, and most of that had to do with his look. 

No, he didn't look like the other monsters. Technically he didn't look like anything, which I'm sure is a big reason why he's often left out of the group; his greatest and most recognizable attribute is one that's can't really be depicted tangibly - it's like portraying a vampire without its fangs, or a werewolf when he's just a regular guy. But it's The Invisible Man's disguise, often portrayed as a bandage around the head and a pair of sunglasses, that's not only a noticeable trademark, but also a way cooler fit that his competition. What's he up against: a pompous cape, and ill-fitting blazer, some torn jeans, and a nightgown. The Mummy don't wear shades and The Phantom of the Opera can't even commit to a whole mask. So if we're just talking fashion, Invisible Man prevails. And why not -- when he's fully rocking the entire ensemble, it's the aesthetic midpoint between Mac Tonight and The Blank from Dick Tracy, the two biggest fashion icons of my youth. (And probably adulthood I guess.)

Same as how all of my knowledge of Jesus came from Last Temptation of Christ, for the longest time the only Invisible Man I knew was Chevy Chase as Nick Halloway. And honestly, that was enough for me to elevate the character to the rank of almost favorite; even though there's nothing "monstrous" about him and the premise is miles away from the H. G. Wells story, Memoirs of an Invisible Man was one of those PG-13 movies that was always on HBO all the time, which meant I watched it all the time, and only ever with pure joy. It wasn't until I was much older that I learned that most people don't really care for the film, which really accentuates a benefit of youth (and of not really having friends): I never knew what was "lame" or what was I supposed to dislike - I only ever fell completely for the stuff that made me happy without much outside influence. I think I've maintained that integrity to this day, and I point that out to illustrate that I was never trying to be different or impress anyone when I finally made the conscious decision that The Invisible Man is my favorite of the Universal Monsters.

It's difficult and kinda tedious to "make a case" for increased recognition of a fictitious character - especially one whose identity and origins seem to constantly change. But that malleability is one of the reasons I love the character; hero, villain, or just normal person, that obnoxious anchor of "mythology" hasn't weighed it down over the decades. I didn't see the original 1933 Invisible Man with Claude Rains until that "Universal Classic Monsters" collection was released on DVD back in 2014, but that movie (along with all the sequels and spinoffs that were included) is certainly what solidified the persona in my top spot. The blissful unevenness in this "franchise" is one of its most captivating features -- it didn't take long for Frankenstein to run outta things to do, but the otherwise transferable superpower of invisibility is able to drive any story of any character: you could be a sassy department store model like Virginia Bruce in The Invisible Woman, or you could be a dickhead scientist like Kevin Bacon in Hollow Man. Kinda like vampirism or lycanthropy, we don't always need a defined "Headliner" in the role. 

Having said all that, the popular Claude Rains depiction that typically appears next to Drac and the rest is the version I champion when I'm defining my favorite of the lineup. Some might argue that he was never really a "monster" or that the material is more Science Fiction than Horror, and this is one of the rare situations where I can't be bothered to form a well crafted argument against these linguistics. Besides, you could argue that none of these characters are "monsters" and that they're all misunderstood products of their environment etc. etc. Which does bring up a good point of defense: Invisible Man is the only one of these fiends that I'd like to be - if only by process of elimination: I don't wanna drink blood, I don't wanna be a reanimated corpse, I don't ever wanna go through a werewolf transformation, and I don't wanna live in a swamp. I'm more inclined to chill in the study with Gloria Stuart and some brown liquor so I can yap about my enemies. Oh, and wear a smoking jacket, because in the end, it really is all about the fashion.

- Paul

BENNETT MEDIA SNACK BAR

There are a lot of things that are upsetting and terrifying in Twilight Zone: The Movie, but one of them has always been equally intriguing. In Joe Dante's segment, "It's a Good Life" we are confronted with quite a disturbed child. He is equal parts lonely and mystical mixed together, creating a concoction so insane that only wackiness can ensue. He forces his guest to stay for dinner in his house of hilarious horrors, and of course his ideal feast is fitting for his madness. Most of of the meal is comprised of childhood snack staples, such as potato chips, a strawberry Hoodsie cup, and a nutty caramel apple. But the pièce de résistance is a plain hamburger topped with peanut butter. 

Bennett Media decided we had to recreate this special dish to watch alongside this most fantastic feature; diets and food sensitivities be damned. Most of the ingredients were easy to obtain, although we couldn't find the strawberry Hoodsie cup, and had to substitute with a vanilla one with strawberry topping. For the burger, we settled on a McDonald's plain patty smothered with creamy goodness.

While I won't add this meal to our menu rotation any time soon, I have to admit that the burger was interesting. It had a perfectly paired sweet and salty mix. It's good that way! We were, however, very bummed to notice while watching the movie that we missed one important component to our dinner: on their plates are also a few Keebler Fudge Stripe Cookies.

The next day we bought a spooky box of them and honored our meal, in the hopes that we didn't offend Anthony. 

- Babes

Damn of the Damned

I SAW IT ON TAPE - Nosferatu

The VHS era was wonderful for a lotta reasons. For one, it did its best to make the entirety of Cinema that much more readily available to the public. It was also an artistic medium unto itself, creating an entire market of content made specifically for (and sometimes on) videotape. But in terms of "Film Preservation", at least from a consumer's point of view, it was pretty fleeting; regardless of how old or new these films were, once they were on VHS, that would likely be the worst they were ever gonna look and sound. And since Laserdisc didn't seem to be really taking off, this kinda felt like theses movies' final destination.

That's not to say that every title from history was endlessly available at our fingertips; it was common for an entire wall of your video store to become dedicated to 40 copies of Sister Act if that was the big deal that week. But it's probably no shock to you that I had some amount of difficulty tracking down a silent film from 1922 on VHS (no matter how "revered"). But in late 1992 it was absolutely imperative that I track it down. This was during my own private Bram Stoker's Dracula mania, when I was saturating myself not just in stuff from that movie but also any and all vampiric pop culture (which seemed to be booming at the time). Most of that saturation was books and magazines, and no chapter or article would talk about vampires (or at least vampires on film) without talking about F. W. Murnau's Nosferatu. 

I'd always known about it and was certainly familiar with much of its copyright-free imagery (a lot of it was used in the Queen/David Bowie "Under Pressure" music video), but now it was at the point where I needed to actually see it, and like Abraham Van Helsing I was gonna have to hunt. And again, this was late '92/early '93, which historically meant I had at least a half dozen video stores to visit just in my home town alone. Though honestly I don't remember much from that experience, but I do remember the relief of finally finding it - in a place where I'd never thought to look for movies: The Public Library. Never mind renting a rare, ancient Monster Movie, but borrowing it for free (and for a much longer period of time before I had to return it) was the real novelty. And it came in this clinical cover labeled "Film Classics" which gave off a kinda underground/bootleg vibe before I even knew such a vibe existed. To top it off, when I watched it, the picture quality was (predictably) not great -- everything considered, it's possible this tape had been around since 1922. But like always I braved the tracking fuzz, and gleefully absorbed what was probably my first Silent Film, almost certainly my first German Expressionist Film, and definitely my first video rented from the library.

- Paul

TRADING CARDS :: Creature Feature

Us 80s kids often site Topps' Fright Flicks as a major gateway to Horror Pop Culture (as I publicly have). Their whole gimmick of printing ghastly movie stills and pairing them with punny captions became a recognizable trademark, but they certainly didn't own the copyright on that formula. Topps utilized the exact same setup for a much earlier set of cards called Creature Feature. 

First introduced in 1973, they were exactly what you're thinking (if I'm explaining it well enough): publicity shots from old black & white Monster Movies accompanied by dumb jokes (the alternate title for these card was literally You'll Die Laughing). Somehow this equation seemed to work in the eyes of the Topps marketing team, because they revived and upgraded the series in 1980 - which is the set we'll be exploring today. 

The '73 cards were printed entirely in black & white which certainly worked to maintain that sense of vintage nostalgia. But in 1980, the time of Prom Night and "Funkytown", Topps injected some accents of color into the moldy old monster pics, thus crafting one of my favorite Pop Art aesthetics. Drawing exclusively from the Universal Pictures film library, this set offered 88 cards and 22 stickers, showcasing all the marquee monsters (largely without Dracula due to licensing issues with the Bela Lugosi estate), as well as some not-so-famous creatures to beef up the bash - and it's from those lesser-known ghouls that I pulled 5 to focus on in this article, because frankly the leaders of this pack get all the attention (and sequels) and these are some characters that needed a lot more character development (and love).

- Paul

(#3) The Creature Walks Among Us

Okay, so technically the Gill Man is a Universal headliner, but certainly not this obscure iteration. This is from the third and final Creature From the Black Lagoon film (which is often noted as the final entry in the original Universal Monsters era) but he's otherwise tough to recognize here because we so rarely see him in raggedy hospital scrubs. One of the plot points of this movie is that the Creature starts to become more humanlike, and obviously a big part of humanity is covering up your naughty bits. So, we're left with this lumbering Frankenstein Fish hybrid that maybe could've become so much more had the series not ended here.

(#21) Monster on the Campus

Speaking of confusing transformations -- a scientist cuts his hand on a fossilized fish carcass and it causes him to turn into a prehistoric ape man on a nightly schedule. Weirdest part in that it clears up every morning - I figured something like that would just be a permanent deal. The titular "Monster" isn't very remarkable in looks or motivations, but the erratic performance (which consists of lotsa loud yelling) definitely makes him stand out from his otherwise sophisticated brethren. 

(#24) Tarantula

Most of the giant creatures never had enough personality to catch on as recurring characters (personally I don't know how King Kong or Godzilla slipped past this), but I'd certainly pay to see the giant Tarantula do battle against the giant ants of Them!. But really I should use this space to call attention to director Jack Arnold - in addition to this and Monster on the Campus, he also helmed It Came From Outer Space, the first two Creature From the Black Lagoon movies, and most of the bigger effects stuff in This Island Earth. You could say he had a small part in the overall tone of 1950s SciFi. 

(#26) The Mole People

Living beneath the earth (in a mountain, so maybe above the earth?) is a community of albinos who have enslaved the Mole People to harvest mushrooms. The visual depictions of all this stuff is just as bonkers as it sounds, but the story around it and the characters and dialogue within it are too dull to support the weight of its madness. Sadly I think we've also passed the age where a remake might turn out okay. Frankly a better sorta version of this would be The Time Machine from 1960 - I'll take Morlocks over Mole People any day.

(#40) The Projected Man

These cards are kinda doing a disservice to this movie - it's one of the few films that they pull from that was shot and released in color. And in my own opinion, the vivid, almost psychedelic color scheme of this swinging sixties British production is the most exciting thing about this otherwise dry exercise that details yet another pear-shaped science project that produces yet another stiff grumbly monster. Oh, bloody hell.

STATIC SHOTS

Details from LIFE Magazine - October 31, 1960

Nowadays you can still spot a LIFE Magazine in a supermarket or pharmacy, only ever as some "commemorative issue" dedicated to some very specific historical or pop culture crevice. But between 1936 and 1972 it was a weekly publication that seemed to become a staple of... life. It was the hip, new alternative to the newspaper, tackling important stories (there were a few during those decades) as much through the use of pictures as words, thus giving more credibility to the art of Photojournalism.

This issue is dated October 31, 1960 - Halloween. Because of that, the cover story is dedicated to Trick-or-Treating which, in practice, had only been really popular for about ten years at that point, so it was definitely newsworthy. But surrounding that whimsy are lots of doors and windows and clues throughout the issue that give us a solid sense of the world during that week. Wedged in between all the booze and cigarette and butter advertisements, there were multiple promos for Butterfield 8 with Liz Taylor, and also troubling news as the threat of Communism heats up as Cuba starts to become something to worry about. And that indirectly relates to the real atmosphere that hangs heavy in these pages: the U.S. Presidential election was a week away, when John Kennedy would narrowly win against Richard Nixon. The 1960s were officially about to begin. 

 

In the meantime, while some innocence and idealism still existed, photographer George Silke took pictures of his kids and their friends "masquerading", using a camera specifically designed for the "photo finish" on racetracks. Everything considered, the results are haunting and layered. (It's probably my own morbid fascination that makes me wonder if any of these kids ended up in Vietnam.) LIFE Magazines were roughly the size of a medium pizza box, so I've included the best and most pertinent parts of that article that my technology would allow. As noted in the issue's intro, "It's funny and it won't scare the kids."

- Paul

Bile Poridge

My being is locked up inside the squelchy muck that has dripped down within me.

Starting as a simple stain has veined out and collected low and deep, trapping all goodness to be with held from the light.

My eyes are gone and yet remain, no longer windows to my soul, but mirrors of what once was.

I hear my voice, and while my messages are clear, the tone is guttural and piercing to the ears.

You can feel me near you, the way you might the prick of a thorn amongst the brambles; my touch peeling away the flesh from bone so exquisitely.

My breath rots, feeding gooseflesh and misery to even the most forgiving.

I am not done and I never will be

       lost and pained by the mucus and ugliness that has percolated from me to you, intertwining us in hopelessness for all eternity, destined to repeat itself forever.

 

- J

ROGER CORMAN and CHEESE part XXI: "The Terror" and Di Fara Pepperoni Pizza

Roger holds an astounding number of film credits - mostly in the Producing role. At the beginning of his career, he was perhaps the most prolific Director of all time, shooting over two dozen movies between 1955 and 1960; Little Shop of Horrors holds the record for the shortest shooting schedule on a feature film, totaling two days and one night. His drive and resourcefulness and frugality only ever yielded mediocre but profitable results. Eventually this haunted house of cards would collapse.

Immediately after the fast-paced production of The Raven, Corman decided to squeeze one more gothic tale out of the lavish sets that had been built. And so, instead of adapting yet another Poe tale, he had the idea to mimic the author's style with an original story called The Terror (1963). What followed was what he called "the longest production of my career," taking nine months to complete and directing duties being passed from Corman to a literal crowd of otherwise amateur filmmakers: Francis Ford Coppola, Monte Hellman, Dennis Jakob, Jack Hale, Jack Hill, and the film's star, Jack Nicholson. The chaotic rhythm and convoluted storyline of the finished movie kinda reflects the troubled production, but overall it's a pretty steady, drab Castle Drama with adequate atmosphere and really big rugs. Boris Karloff shot for two days on this and he's peppered throughout the film enough to make you feel like he's actually part of this. Dick Miller is his butler with a Bronx accent, and Sandra Knight is the ghost of his dead wife. Or is she? Who the hell knows, the script/story changes are really too maddening to follow; the movie's easiest parts to understand are when people are just strolling silently through the giant hallways. (Jack Nicholson constantly being thwarted by crafty spirits in a giant empty building conjured up plenty of Shining jokes.) Really the most notable thing is Jack; he may've honed his craft over the decades to come, but really, the charisma has always been right there, front & center. Not that he's entirely convincing as an officer in the French military, but he's totally believable as Jack.

A rating of 9.4 "as reviewed by Dave Portnoy" is advertised on the box. That's the second time this guy's name has come up in our frozen pizza ventures and we still kinda don't know or care who he is -- besides, who needs this stooge when you've got Bennett Media taste testing for you already? And we're here to tell you that Di Fara Pepperoni Pizza isn't quite a 9.4, but it doesn't have some big strengths. Firstly, you can tell by the box that they're trying to appear lighter, fancier, all natural, free of dyes and poisons and all the other popular promises, and on that front they succeeded; there is a noticeable freshness in its crispy crust that isn't always present in the world of ice cube dough. Really the only failure in their faux fanciness is the addition of big basil leaves - two to be exact, so if you're a fan of mouthfuls of leafy garnish, you'd better hope you get one of the designated "basil slices". The one element that definitely veers away from the health food vibe and more into cheap disgusting party food is the pepperoni - as in, the pepperoni cups. That's when the pepperoni slices create little durable concave containers of grease, which is a phenomenon that doesn't occur in every brand of frozen pizza. But when it does, it's pure magic.

The Movie: C-

The Pizza: B

HALLOWEEN SNACKS!

Scurry home, children, it's time to feed.

As the parent of a very picky eater, I can look forward to a bounty of free trick-or-treat leftovers at the end of October (except for the Tootise Roll Midgees - no one wants that shit). Also as a grownup, I can just go out and buy candy at any point during any time of the year - but it's only during this time that one can find some of this weirder stuff that celebrates evil and rotting and death. Join me as I get fatter and happier. 

- Paul

Oreo Ghosts

I start with these because I was most excited for them. First of all, the name is pleasantly simple and lyrically stimulating: Oreo Ghosts. Secondly, I love Oreos, but I love ghosts even more; in the catalog of "Halloween things" that would include stuff like cats and pumpkins and spiders and witches, ghosts are my #1. These two enterprises together are a can't-miss -- and yet, they still didn't hit the spot. The description reads, "Dark Chocolaty Shell Filled With Oreo Cookie Pieces and Crème Flavored Filling" (the accent mark is stupid fancy), and so I was looking forward to a bit of crunch or crisp or some kind of textural resistance when I bit down, but these little guys are all cream (or crème) and no cookie. And they are little - if not for the hassle of being individually wrapped I'd suggest throwing a handful into some ice cream, or using them for some kinda baking venture.

Nerds Candy Corn

From a distance it's tough to determine if this was a holiday candy, but apart from the obvious Candy Corn connection, the little illustrated Nerds on the package are dressed as witches and vampires and bats. Adorable! But what really makes this a spooky snack is how strange it is. They 100% have the consistency of regular candy corn, but they're blessed with unmistakable Nerd flavors - and there are many here. Like, literally too many to list; there are six different colored pieces, and each color is a cross pollination of anywhere between 2 and 5 fruits (with the actual "Fruit Punch" flavor carrying and indeterminate numeral). If you truly wish to defy God, eat 2 or 3 different ones at once for a entirely unnatural mosaic of tastes. Wonka may not own Nerds anymore, but this madness feels like his doing.

KitKat Breaking Bones

Immediately after ghosts, skeletons are my second favorite, so I'm easily lured into traps such as these. Apparently (actually, quite evidently, as it shows right on the bag) there's nothing especially skeletal or bone-like about these KitKats. They're white, specifically because they're coated in "Vanilla Flavored Creme" (no accent) but they're still just rectangular cookie wafers. I'm assuming the "Breaking Bones" gimmick applies because you can break them apart... My brother in Christ, that's just a KitKat; there's no real novelty here. I do love the little wrappers they come in (because top hats actually make skeletons better) but I wish the candies themselves had little bone illustrations carved into the coating. I don't think that's a big ask.

Fanta Ghost Face Punch

Did I ever tell you I was "Ghostface" for Halloween at least a year before Scream came out? It was just a cool mask that I'd seen in stores and thought it would look good with a black cloak and hood. I mention this to point out that the image is, for lack of a better word, "generic" - which is the current theme of the usually-licensed Fanta Halloween drinks. This year they've employed a vampire, a werewolf, a scarecrow, and "Ghost Face" (because when it's two words, it's technically not the Scream villain), who's the star of its own new flavor, Ghost Face Punch. It's credited as a "Berry Punch" which is only ever code for "artificial fruit flavor". Frankly I'd been avoiding it all season because everything about it said "Grape" to me, but it really is just a carbonated fruit punch, and it's extremely pleasant. 

Haribo Crazy Skeletons

Bro. Gummy skeletons? It's probably not a new concept but it's new to me. I love that the Haribo bear (formally named Goldbear) is partying with a skeleton who's wearing less than he is. And I love the aesthetic marriage of "Crazy" in rainbow colors and "Skeletons" made of stark, rigid bones. But sadly, I am no fan of sour candy; these are billed as "1 side sweet, 1 side sour" so I thought the blow would be a bit softer, but I think they just went harder to compensate for the compromise. Also, the thing about Haribo: they're damn hard to chew, and gnawing on a full length sour skeleton from head to toe can get pretty arduous. But as the townsfolk say, "This is Halloween."

Witch's Brew White Hot Chocolate

I'm sure I've abridged whatever the real title of this sorcery is, but it's better just to explain: inside the box there's an otherwise hollow ball of white chocolate, and inside the ball is green-colored hot chocolate powder with mini orange and black M&Ms mixed in. Put the ball in a mug, heat up some milk, pour the hot milk into the mug, the ball and its contents melt into a fusion of frothy green goodness. White Hot Chocolate as a subgenre has always been a favorite of mine, though like with all Hot Chocolate stuff I usually associate it with Christmastime. This version's just weird enough that it didn't seem to put me in a Santa state of mind. 

Cheetos The Flavor of Fear

Mmmm, Blumhouse **drools** Tastes like M3GAN...? I don't know know how exactly these tie into Blumhouse Studios or if they're specifically affiliated with one of their productions - that would've taken me a few minutes of research and I really don't have the time. I also didn't do any digging in regards to what other people think these taste like, but I can attest that they do have a very familiar flavor; they're sweet, but not like barbecue sauce sweet, more like sugary sweet. I thought maybe Cinnamon Toast Crunch but it might be even more on-the-nose than that. Frankly it's a distracting endeavor, because they're also hot! I like big heat and I have a good tolerance for it, and I can say these deliver the fire - enough to lose focus on what I'm trying to compare them to. In summary, it's a fun experience (unlike most Insidious sequels). Come do think of it, these probably do taste like M3GAN.