Carrot Cake M&Ms

Good morning class, today I would like to discuss the most disgusting candy to grace the aisle in a long while. I speak of the carrot cake M&M.

You may have not seen it on your stores. Like most things evil it has an exclusive deal with WalMart to try and contain the demon, but once evil is formed in the world it always finds a way to escape.

M&M has gone a wee bit over the deep end lately, copying hershey's kisses in the early naughts. (Are we still calling 2000's the naughts or did the cool kids come up with something less 20's speakeasyish. That's jake!) There are raspberry M&Ms, birthday cake M&Ms, the soul of angel's M&Ms. Apparently, their R&D guys barricaded themselves inside the lab and refuse to come out until they've released at least three abominable flavors a year the marketing department have to convince the rest of us to eat.

Why do I hate the carrot cake M&M? Well, let's start here:

White chocolate is not chocolate, it is satan's cum rolled in the butt crack of the sugar miser. To call it chocolate is to invite constant and deserved hatred from true chocolate lovers, or humans with taste buds. Anyone who defends white chocolate is clearly an ancient horror here to recruit people into their cult of worshiping lucifer and eating not-chocolate. Monsters.

But, I can move past my deep mistrust of white chocolate to give a more accurate reflection of the taste profile. I hate you white chocolate, Hitler ate white chocolate, melt in the cleansing holy fire white chocolate. See, totally impartial.

Before we can begin you need to get three of the carrot cake M&Ms. You'll see why.

Carrot Cake M&M 1: A bit of the classic carrot cake spice burst across the tongue but is quickly overtaken by the white chocolate. There are hints of what they plastered across the bag but it is lost in the cloying arms of the chocolate.

Carrot Cake M&M 2: The carrot cake spice is long gone now, all that remains is the evil white chocolate and a single crumb of cinnamon screaming for help before it too drowns in the sweet embrace. Things are getting bad now. The sugar coats the tongue like a too tight sweater, refusing to give up its grasp on the tastebuds.

Carrot Cake M&M 3: Oh god, the things I do for you people. Okay, okay, here we go. Like being waterboarded by pure glucose, the white chocolate has extended off the tongue, down the throat, across the cheeks, and probably into the brain. I cannot taste anything but the white chocolate, the miniscule carrot cake long ago destroyed by the menacing fist of the white chocolate. But the worst part is, the white chocolate does not wash away. It will squat on your tongue like a fat toad beneath a tree root for minutes up to an hour. Every swallow tastes of white chocolate, every breath reminds you of the wrongs you have committed; carrot cake M&Ms are a penance for the life you've lived. Look upon the cartoon bunny and weep!

If you love carrot cake and can stand white chocolate then you might enjoy these M&Ms, but you can only eat them one at a time, taking breaks every hour to let the aftertaste subside lest your tongue is overloaded with sweet and cannot find the spice at all.

If you mostly eat carrot cake for the cream cheese frosting and, like a proper person, despise white chocolate, get a tub of cream cheese and eat that. It'll be a log reduction less sweet than these M&Ms.

And that is the terror of the carrot cake M&M.

Class dismissed for spring break.