Time to go bonkers

I was recently offered a full 3 Musketeers candy bar. This produced a dilemma inside my head. Of all the candy bars in all of the world, the 3 Musketeers candy bar has to be one of the top five worst. Maybe top three. Come on. Halloween? Whenever you came across a bite-sized one, you always either offered it up to your brother or sister, or threw it away. Besides, what’s in those things, anyways? According to its Wikipedia profile, the bar is made of nougat and whipped chocolate. That sounds like a Russian hockey player and anything Chris Brown touches.

What did I do? Naturally, I took it. Why? I hadn’t had one in 500 years. To my surprise, I finished the whole thing (and quickly, even). It wasn’t as bad or disappointing as it used to be when I’d find one in my stocking around Christmas time, but it also promised me I wouldn’t need another one for at least 500 more years.

But candy. We all love candy, don’t we? You are a liar if you say you don’t enjoy snooping around a real honest-to-goodness candy shop. The smells, the objects shaped like animals that are supposed to taste like blueberries but are so hard, you chip three teeth trying to bite into them. How about the odd-shaped containers they use in these stores? How cute are they? A lava lamp filled with M&M’s or a computer printer that spits out Skittles. Candy shops are the best.

Well, almost the best. Why almost? That’s because there isn’t a single candy shop in the world who carries the best candy of all time, Bonkers. Remember them?



They were like starburst, but, oh a gazillion times better. They were so good, even, candyblog.net describes them as follows:

I tried several times to taste these (waiting a couple of weeks in between, thinking it was me). It’s not me. They’re bad. I’ve debated long and hard about what to give these. I sat there with the wads of half chewed Bonkers in their wrappers in front of me and a foul feeling in my stomach and it’s clear I’m gonna have to give these a bad rating. (Believe me, I never set out to buy candy that I’m going to hate.) But I wanted to give them one last opportunity, so I offered them to the neighbors (and Amy always seems game for the worst of the worst but Robin conveniently reminds me when I try to get her to try things like this that she only likes chocolate). Amy spat it out on the sidewalk and then kicked it into the street. She described it as at first tasting like the plastic shelf it must have been sitting on in the store and then most decidedly vomit.

OK, that didn’t help. Still, it is literally impossible to find Bonkers these days. Next to Mallo Cups, these are probably in the top five conversation when it comes to candy and me. The hook for both? Bonkers used to give away free WWF Wrestling cards with their candy. Mallo Cups? Well, let’s just say I’m only a mere 7,000 more points away from finally gaining enough to purchase that Mallo Cup watch I’ve coveted.

See the parallel? When candy items attach give-aways with their candies, it’s impossible to pass them up. For as bad as most think Bonkers are, I’d buy the market out if I could find them anywhere, to complete my card collection, if nothing else. Mallo Cups are so rare, whenever I’m anywhere that has them, I make sure to pick up a pack, even if I’m chocolate-ed out. Be honest: Extra prizes make candies taste extra good.

If only 3 Muskateers came with a free song from iTunes. Only then may I reconsider...