Every great, world changing endeavor has hit a snag or two. Pythagoras got as far as a2 + b2 before drawing a blank. Genghis Khan’s conquest of Eurasia was delayed by several months while he reviewed resumes of Mongols. Michelangelo quit work on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, until his buddy Doug talked him into painting Adam with his wang hanging out.
Something similar happened with Vending Spree. Welllllllllll, not really. Honestly I just kinda got tired of writing about chips. But I am back now and galvanized–GALVANIZED, I TELLS YA–after discovering this in the machine the other day:
The Swedish Fish themselves are nothing new–they have long occupied position 158. But prior to this week, they have always appeared in a bag, like so:
Now, with no increase in price, the Nordic’s most renowned ichthysnack was available in a seemingly larger package. Well, actually the box and the bag were roughly the same size:
But the box has something the bag lacks: breadth. So surely it holds more, right?
Alas, that is exactly what those crafty Swedes want you to think. But after you pony up your $1.75 and open your acquisition:
The box, it turns out, is just there to disguise the fact that you are getting a smaller bag (one that holds 3.5 oz., as opposed to the original’s 5 oz.). And to serve as a portable billboard.
Outrageous! Exposing this scam ought to be the plot of the fourth novel in the Millennium Trilogy, as Mikael Blomkvist and his Swedish Fish consuming sidekick track down the culprits responsible for this swindle. Think, The Girl With Type 2 Diabetes.
Rating: Swedish Fish have a flavor I like to call “Strawberry-well-hmm-actually-not-quite-strawberry”, which falls smack dab in the middle between delicious and cryptic. I’m not a huge fan of the whole “gummy” genre but my six-year-old son is, and anything that can be used to bribe him into putting on his pants in the morning is okay by me. 70¢/$1.