AMHERST, Mass. — A new study conducted by the University Of Massachusetts found that roughly 9,000 bottles of perfectly good wine are wasted on rug commercials annually, sparking heated discussions amongst Zinfindal enthusiasts nationwide.
“When I first came up with the figure I was stumped,” said Dr. Andy O’Riley, who uncovered the finding after watching countless hours of rug cleaner infomercials while on the job. “Thousands of bottles are dumped by actors in these commercials including Merlots, Cabernets, Sherries, the list really goes on. Typically, the actor walks into a room with a firm grasp on a glass of red wine only to have it fly out of their hand and land on a white carpet, where the stain then begins to set into the fibers, until the actor pulls out a bottle of rug cleaner from thin air, and magically lifts the red wine stain from the carpet.”
Lead study consultant Doug Elliott was less than amused with the findings.
“What’s wrong with these people? 9,000 bottles! What are you kidding me? We could be drinking that down at Pete’s Tavern!” said Elliott as he began to mash his own grapes in case the global supply of red wine ran out. “Not once did I see a cheap box of wine like Franzia being used. I vow never to use a product from the rug cleaner industry. I mean for fucksakes, they might as well have been using liquid gold. It’s always the good stuff. They don’t even attempt to breathe in the aromas before dumping the stuff!”
Expert rug commercial wine spiller Sheila Jenkins weighed in on the shocking study findings.
“I’ve been professionally dumping wine onto carpets for decades. Anything other than a red just doesn’t sell the rug cleaner. When people see the spill in action, they can’t help themselves. It triggers some type of primal desire to remove the stain out of the carpet,” said Jenkins as she uncorked a bottle of French Merlot to pour onto a white shag rug. “I consider myself an artist of this craft and I only use the best products available to me, I refuse to use anything less than $29.99 a bottle.”
At press time, Elliott was seen driving a forklift to “save” the supply of red wine bottles from a rug commercial’s shooting set.
He’s a foreigner, so he’s disqualified. If he could run he would crush it, but he can’t.
The Swedish Chef is not an immigrant, he’s just incoherently drunk all the time. He’s no more intelligible than Biden but at least when he spews gibberish he does it with the sense of confidence and professionalism his years of functional alcohol abuse afford him.
Almost a lateral move, the dude is old. He still has command of his faculties and he isn’t a Nazi, which makes him a better fit than both men currently competing for the job, but only by a little. In a year or two he’ll start sundowning like the rest of them.
Or like, any chicken really. People really hate Biden and Trump, honestly, we like her odds.
Floyd zones out as much as Biden but at least when he comes to you get cool drug stories and not the same 4 talking points regurgitated from the napkin he’s been staring at all day.
He’s amicable, high-energy, and racially ambiguous. Trump’s going to hit him hard on the “failure” of “Muppets Tonight” but with a respectable 7.7 on IMDB, he should be able to work through it.
We all know Sam the Eagle is a rank-and-file conservative. You could argue that makes him the candidate most likely to win as he would draw both Democrats and Republicans on the fence about Trump, but at what cost? It would sort of be like voting for Vader over Palpatine.
Sure, he’s a child, but he’s been a child since the ’70s so legally we’re pretty sure he can run. Conservatives like to say they do what they do to protect the children of this country, let’s see them put their money where their mouth is and cross party lines to vote for this adorable frog kid.
Gonzo is a complicated guy for sure, and if elected his term will likely be cut short by scandal. You can’t keep skeletons like his in the closet forever, this guy’s done things that make the Stormy Daniel’s hush money cover-up look like taking a dollar out of Grandma’s purse. Still, if we can keep the lid on his deeply disturbing personal life for a few short months we’re in the clear.
Sure they’ve got the age problem, but these guys are still sharp. Trump relies heavily on insulting his opponents, let’s see him try to pull that shit with the pros.
Okay, so he’s a confirmed cannibal, but he’s upfront about it and has never eaten a baby, which, according to our Uncle Mark (who hasn’t quite been the same since his car accident), makes Gene a more viable candidate than Joe Biden or Hilary Clinton combined.
As a lifestyle influencer, Bobo already has a rabid, internet-literate fanbase ready to make “Bobo 2024” happen. As a bear, he projects some much-needed strength on the world stage.
The sax thing worked for Clinton in ’92 and it can work for Zoot in 2024. We just need Arsenio Hall to have a talk show again and a good fixer to cover up his predatory sex life. Move over Kid Rock, there’s a new bucket hat-wearing musician riddled with STDs here to shake up Washington!
Yes, it’s a sad state of affairs, but we are at the point in this country where many Americans are saying “Let’s just put the guy named Crazy with all the dynamite in the White House and just see what happens.”
It’s just a house. Unless the market in question is some neighborhood-wide estate sale where your former AP English teacher just so happens to sell her garden squash as well, catching a glimpse of the eponymous residence from “Welcome to Dead House” is very unlikely. Next.
“Deep Trouble” is just about the only place you’d have to be in to see a hammerhead shark at an outdoor grocery store. There is an argument to be made for seaside markets and local fisheries that sharks might regularly visit, but seeing as how this is number 14, this argument is faulty. The term “monster” is also a pretty loose description for a totally average shark, so this one is at a 10-15% likelihood, max.
Judging by the radical, hot pink lair that the titular Masked Mutant jumps out from in “Attack of the Mutant,” it’s safe to assume he doesn’t get out that often. Granted, when he’s not plotting some dastardly scheme in that villainous castle he’s probably present at every comic con and Smash Bros. tournament in the nearby area. As a result of this, the chances of catching him browsing the heirloom tomatoes at the nearby organic table are slim to none.
Okay, it is pretty farfetched to expect to see regular-teenager-turned-bee Gary Lutz buzzing around the honey table at city produce sales. But it’s not impossible, right? There are always a few stray insects flying around the fruits, and those beekeepers love to brag about their “totally eco-friendly beehomes” and “organic honeycomb.” Who’s to say one of those pesky bugs isn’t a clean-cut tween whose body swap wish went horribly wrong? The jury’s still out on this one.
This one is contingent on whether or not pets are allowed at your local farmstand. When they are, you’re typically bombarded by some vicious German Shepherd owned by a dawdling middle-aged couple rather than some yapping pooch like “The Barking Ghost.” Either way you are usually at the receiving end of a string of woofs and snarls as you try to politely scooch out of the way towards the cartons of strawberries.
With such an esteemed title, the cover creature of “A Night at Terror Tower” doesn’t frequent farmers markets all that often. Busy sharpening his gnarly ax and scaring the local youth with his horrendous posture, there is no way this guy carves a lot of time out for buying local. In spite of this, you might spot him under that tent with all the bearded dudes who try to pawn off their homemade leather goods and jerky. This hooded beefcake would for sure add some dried teriyaki venison to his pre-workout meal routine.
This one has a couple of demerits right off the bat. On top of being regionally locked to the Los Angeles area (and technically Alaska if you’re a nerd and read the book), this odious yeti might not even fit underneath the awnings of the produce stand. Besides all of that, this guy is a bimonthly regular at farmers markets for sure. Any local fruit this big lug picks out is going straight to his ice cavern for smoothie prep.
There’s roughly a 50/50 chance “The Haunted Mask” makes an appearance while you browse the local grocery. Admittedly, it is rare to see one of these outside of Halloween, and worn by someone other than a snotty elementary schooler for that matter. Then again, even monstrous, living faces need their fruits and veggies to stay healthy and stave off further decay. Don’t pry the wearers of the haunted masks too much though. Some shoppers just straight up look like that.
This might be a bit of a cheat, but you can spot Stine’s classic “Monster Blood” at any farmers market if you look hard enough. That natural herbal jam that costs $23? Monster blood. The bulk laundry detergent sold by that elderly lady who smells faintly of mothballs? Also monster blood. If you frequent a really hip produce shop with kombucha vendors, you can take a wild guess as to what those bacteria are really swimming around in.
On the occasion that produce vendors peddle their dusty antiques as well, “The Cuckoo Clock of Doom” can be pretty easy to point out. Unfortunately, its awesome powers of time reversal are most definitely broken if it’s being half heartedly sold amidst old wooden crates and collector’s plates. If you’re looking to be jumpscared by a wooden bird and spill asparagus everywhere while making a fool of yourself, be sure to catch it at the top of the hour.
The face of the Goosebumps series himself has seen his fair share of supporting local greengrocery. Slappy’s the kind of consumer to hop on the market craze for a while, posting his favorite local veggies and maple syrups on his socials. Maybe he checks into the farmstand every once and a while, but not since he’s hit the major leagues. Nowadays, he buys his groceries via delivery apps since he’s “too busy drafting his new memoir.” Sure thing buddy.
The only real “Curse of Camp Cold Lake” is the inundation of guys with this haircut who flood the local farmstand. They might not always be shopping around at the market, but everyone knows at least one Camp Cold Lake Ghost. They’re the ones whose contribution to the office holiday gift exchange is goat milk soap that you will never use because you can’t resist the temptations of Bath & Body Works’ semi-annual sale. 60-70% chance of running into one of these middle-parted fiends.
Coincidentally enough, “Calling All Creeps!” doubles as an excellent way to grab the attention of a majority of people who shop at produce markets. Of course these tools are still using a damn telephone booth like it’s 1996. If you take this out of the equation and instead swap their antiquated communication methods for various facial piercings, tattoos, and a tote bag with a succulent on it, then you’ve got roughly two-thirds of the farmers market clientele.
When writing “The Scarecrow Walks at Midnight,” Mr. Stine clearly didn’t take into consideration what most scarecrows get up to around 10 a.m. on a Saturday. With those scrappy, disheveled clothes and gardener’s hats, these otherwise inanimate strawmen fit right in with the market scene, and can be the most tolerable people to deal with. That much time in the field has to mean this guy is pretty knowledgeable, he’s surrounded by corn for cryin’ out loud!
There is at least one Counselor Buddy at every farmers market. This is an indisputable fact. Even more horrifying, it is guaranteed that the Buddy present during your visit will make some dull vegetable pun or comment about your groceries. Everything from the baseball cap, tucked in t-shirt, and those deprived, manic eyes just scream “agriculturist”. No longer just “The Horror At Camp Jellyjam”, this asshole hawks his pickled vegetables with that same nightmarish grin everywhere.