We review the entire country and culture of New Zealand, one thing at a time. Today, Alex Casey cracks open a can of horror in Fanta’s new Jelly Fizz drink.
It’s time to admit that Big Fanta has gone too far. I entertained their past endeavours into grape and lime with a wry smile. I laughed aloud, heartily, when they released a chocolate orange spider flavour that was far too murky to not have at least three ghosts in each bottle. But now, with the release of Fanta Jelly Fizz, a line has been crossed and trust has been broken. Forever.
“Give her a shake 10 times to free the jelly” advises a beaming Viarni from The Bachelor NZ in a sponsored Instagram post, one that inspired what would become a gelatinous, horrible chapter in my life. Why is the gendered jelly trapped, Viarni? What did she do? Why am I the chosen one to emancipate her from her watery prison? Am I going to be further implicated in her slime crimes?
I’m not ready to go back to the slammer, not for a novelty drink and not even for you.
Viarni continues, “then crack open for a party in your mouth.” Earlier this morning, live on The Real Pod, we decided to follow her instructions and do just that, beginning with the crucial 10 x shake. I will say this straight off the bat: it is a bit of a rush to be able to vigorously shake a can of fizzy drink and confidently crank it open in front of stunned friends. If you want to look cool at a party, it could be a good conversation starter without risking an Extras fizzy water situation.
But that’s where anything good ends.
Once you’ve done your cool* party trick you must exit the premises swiftly, because your peers will immediately call the police, a priest and a Justice of the Peace once you start pouring this viscous nightmare goo. It’s NSFW, it’s not safe for parties, it’s not safe for anywhere, really. As the delicate blobs of jelly plopped happily into the cup, it’s abundantly clear that Fanta Jelly Fizz looks and sounds like something that should be only happening in a deeply private space.
It’s like when Austin Powers loses his mojo, but then he finds it again and it’s kind of a gluggy glowing red jelly in a syringe. It’s like the embryotic jelly that encases Neo in The Matrix. It’s not the sort of relaxed bevvy you want to youthfully chug from a can when hanging out with friends, hitting the beach, skateboarding, and other activities that Fanta drinkers definitely do. It’s important to note in her ‘gram that Viarni is alone, in a room of one’s own queasy Fanta drink.
This is certainly the least glamorous Fanta option you could turn to in a time of need. Even at two cans for $4 at the Mobil, you have to consider the true cost. Both the orange and raspberry flavour taste fine, but the texture is honestly haunting. Nary a liquid nor a jelly, it’s caught somewhere in the gunky upside down and it simply doesn’t belong in this dimension. If only we could advance Fanta technology to making something a little more solid, something juicy and fruit flavoured but fresh, maybe with an interesting skin on it and some textured flesh inside?
I, for one, will be waiting.
Verdict: I drank a glass of both, but that doesn’t make it okay.
Good or Bad: Call Spike Milligan, because this is some… bad jelly.
*cool is a state of mind
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