YOU’VE SEEN A MAN EAT TWO POP-TARTS AT ONCE. AND WHILE YOU THOUGHT IT COULD NOT BE DONE, NOW YOU CAN BEHOLD ONE HUMAN, MORTAL MAN TAKE ON THE CHALLENGE OF FOUR POP-TARTS! THIS IS… POP-TART QUEST!

Ohhhhh god. I’ve never eaten four Pop-Tarts at once before. This was a mistake. I regret this. For years, I have wondered, “How will I die? What will do me in? Heart disease? A gunman in a movie theater? Smashed between two SUVs while jaywalking? Eating four Pop-Tarts at once?”. That’s… I know… it’s that last one. That is how I perish. 

My nose is running; it is as though all of what is inside of me is being evacuated. Somewhere within me, there are four Pop-Tarts telling my organs and fluids, “You’ve had your day! But we live here now! This is the domain of Red Velvet and Cinnamon Roll now, you heathens! You have 5 minutes to get out or face the wrath of New Poptarpia!”, and then they set a flag down with a picture of a silhouetted body (like on those stomach acid commercials, you know) with a frowny face and inside, dancing, merry Pop-Tarts.  

Let my suffering, which I can already tell won’t pass for five moon cycles, serve as a lesson to you: don’t eat four Pop-Tarts at the same time. It’s a bad thing. Mortal stomachs weren’t meant to consume this much synthesized non-food at once.

I’m getting the Pop-Tart sweats! And my nose is still running! Gods, I am sorry for challenging you! My hubris is my undoing! Woe!

Taste: 

(Red Velvet: A; Cinnamon Roll: B-): Red velvet is, and I know this from when I ate the rest of the box two Pop-Tarts at a time like a NORMAL HUMAN BEING, fucking delicious. We’re not talking Chocolate Peanut Butter here–let’s not take the late Prince’s advice and go crazy–but at least comparable to Hot Fudge Sundae or Confetti Cupcake. Cinnamon Roll is basically a slightly superior version of the basic Brown Sugar Cinnamon flavor that is underwhelming to begin with. OoooOOOOoooo… it has shitty, hard icing on the pastry! Whoop-de-ya.

Texture: 

(Red Velvet: A; Cinnamon Roll: D): The frosting on the top of the Cinnamon Roll one–which seems to be a rip-off of the stuff they put on Toaster Strudels, the arch-nemesis of Pop-Tarts everywhere–is rock hard and awful. It breaks off in chunks and is just the pits. Red Velvet Pop-Tarts, however, are flaky and crumbly like real red velvet cake, which they may actually be kinda/sorta made of, and I respect the hell out of that, Kelloggs.

Ease of Typing: 

(Red Velvet: D+; Cinnamon Roll: A+): I can’t even accurately convey how may times I have accidentally typed “Red Valvet” or “Red Velevet” since I started this. It’s not THAT hard of a word (Velvet, Velvet, Velvet… come on, brain!), but my fingers just do NOT want to do it. Cinnamon is a fun word to type. Very rhythmic. Cinnamon. Cinnamon. Cinnamon. I could type that all day. Cinnamon!

Toasted-to-Untoasted ratio: 

Well, I ate the toasted ones first, and I felt fine. By the time I got halfway through the untoasted ones, I was already in the burning embrace of Dante’s 15th level of hell. So I’m a bit biased, but I’m going 100%’s all around.

Overall: 

It’s… it’s too soon to judge. Maybe when I’m done feeling like hell. Four Pop-Tarts. Jesus. What was I thinking?

WHY IS MY NOSE RUNNING? IT WAS NOT RUNNING WHEN I STARTED EATING THESE. What devilish symptom of Pop-Tart poisoning is this?