(Review Everything is a series where MyGen takes any object We can think of and review it. Food, objects, ideas, you name it, We’ll review it as long as you pronounced it correctly. Little attention is given to accuracy or legitimacy. This series was painstakingly created over a series of minutes by people who couldn’t care less what you think. Send suggestions to firstname.lastname@example.org)
Full disclosure: We were given this review build as a belated birthday present by people who thought it would be funny to do so.
Hot on the heels of the wildly successful Giant Gummy Bear, whoever thought it would fucking hilarious and ironic to release such a monstrosity bring us their new shit. It follows the same formula you’re now familiar with: take a stupid children’s snack and making it ridiculously large so that people think it’s a good idea to buy one because dude, they fucking love gummy worms can fulfill their nerd-hipster dreams.
But as a snack, this initial fantasia does not hold up. It’s the size of two-foot double-sided dildo with more traction and less potential for mistaking it for a melon-baller. Holding this stupid thing in your hand feels like it was ribbed for your pleasure, not hers. It slides awkwardly down the plastic bag it came it as though it wants to hit the floor as fast as possible so that neither the person involved in eating it or the worm itself has to participate anymore. The ribbing’s meant to slow down anyone who’d dare try to hide it like a prison shank. To give you time to think about it. And after a few test sessions of clandestinely clubbing various family and friends reveals ample reason to do so.
And should you decide to stick this physical adianoeta in your mouth, you’ll realize how stupid you are about two seconds after your teeth do. I don’t know if you’re aware of this, reader, but gummy is hard as diamond-tipped fuck. There’s good reason gummy food is usually so small. You tear into one of these things like you would a stake, except a steak doesn’t want you to end up dead. Not to mention the taste has absolutely no back-end. Which is ironic, given its potential uses.
Choke your kids with it, teach your relatives a lesson, show your mate a horrible what-if scenario should they decide not to listen to your other suggestions. Just don’t eat it.
Score: Battery/Swordfish (Confused about our review scale? Oh well, we tried.)