Brutally Honest Review Of Thanksgiving-Flavored Candy Corn Goes Viral

If you haven't had your day ruined yet, allow me the honor.

Brach's, the infamous purveyor of candy corn in all its iconic forms, decided to release a truly cursed new flavor of candy corn: Thanksgiving.

Yes. Thanksgiving. It's Thanksgiving candy. As in "flavored as if it's a savory meal" kinda candy. One brave person took one for the team and tried it, and her review was nothing short of hysterical.

Let's get a look at these cursed things.

Thanks, I hate it.

Brach's says that their new candy corn is flavored like green beans, roast turkey, cranberry sauce, stuffing, apple pie, and coffee.

What in the "Bertie Botts' Every Flavor Beans" is this nonsense?

One Facebook user decided to try them.

Heather Martin, aka @momofnorank, bought a bag of the accursed candy and... well, I'll let her tell the story:

"When you open the bag, you’ll smell only the coffee ones. This is a transparent and deliberate attempt to lull you into a false sense of security. Don’t be a sucker. "

"[...] there is a special place in hell for whoever decided to make 3 of the flavors so similar in color."

I am already stressed out by this.

"Top left is turkey and gravy. It is disturbingly, hauntingly like candied turkey. Wrong on every level.

Top middle is stuffing. This one is an unrepentant violation of the Geneva Convention. Tastes like hate and sage. So much sage. It’s ironic, because you’ll need to burn sage to erase it from your psyche."

The caramel apple one was pretty standard fare, but the cranberry was just weird.

Unsplash | Yulia Khlebnikova

"Bottom left is allegedly cranberry sauce. What should have been a softball in the flavor development game instead offers nary a hint of cranberry, and not even a smidge of tartness. There is, however, the vaguest intimation of alkaloid bitterness. Cotton candy cough drop? That’s my best guess."

The green bean is basically plant candy.

Unsplash | Bob Bowie

"Bottom middle is green beans. Friends, it is unforgivable. If you left a cup of green tea on the porch in bad weather for a week, during which time it attained sentience and promptly began plotting your demise, and you hate green tea, that’s what this tastes like.

There’s definitely some dirt in it, and…Is that a hint of dead leaf, or decomposing June beetle? You’ll have the stabbing pains of deep regret for company as you work that one out."

She was not done roasting the green bean flavor.

"However, I think my personal pick for most offensive to the celebration of Thanksgiving food is the green bean. It’s not green bean casserole, by the way, oh no. No umami here.

Raw, unholy green in flavor as well as color, with a single, one-note foghorn taste, like mowing the lawn with your mouth open."

Seriously, the green bean was the WORST.

"It’s what you might get if you described green beans to an alien who had been tasked with reproducing the flavor using only very inexpensive petroleum-based esters.

And you had never actually had green beans.

And also the alien hated its job."

The coffee was fine, but the worst one was stuffing.

Unsplash | Jakub Dziubak

"The stuffing one is by far the worst flavor. It is appalling. Pepperidge Farms has apparently taken up training assassins. I’ve met voodoo dolls with less evil intent. The developer of this flavor deserves your disdain, and for that, I salute them."

In one word: Ew!

So, does she recommend the Thanksgiving candy corns?

"Five stars.


Everyone should get a bag. Set them out in a nice, inviting bowl, and don’t say a word."

I think she might be the funniest, most evil person in the world. I love her.