Banana Runts: These are the captain of the team. Their odd shape and cloying artificial banana flavor render them the odd man (or fruit) out in an otherwise delectable lineup of tart candies. Try putting a dish of them out sometime in a crowd -- the bowl will be reduced to nothing but these yellow monsters in a matter of minutes. A handful of people will steadfastly insist that the bananas are "their favorite". These people are not to be trusted.
Black Licorice Jelly Beans: Whether you're dealing with standard generic jelly beans or some fancy-pants Jelly Belly action, the black licorice remains at the bottom of the barrel (yes, even below buttered popcorn). If I ever have kids, and those kids misbehave around Easter time, guess who is getting a basket full of these little beauties? My kids are going to hate me.
Chex Mix Pretzels: Sometimes it's not that there's anything inherently wrong with the Rejectable, so much as the company it keeps. Take the pretzel, a perfectly solid if unspectacular snack taken on its own. But mix it up with delightfully airy, crunchy Chex and savory rye chips (or whatever the hell is in yours; they sell, like, 8000 kinds now), and they're just getting in the way. Never even bother with a bag that's 3/4 eaten, because that is all pretzel, friend. Note: For some reason, if it's the homemade stuff and they used sticks instead of twists, they're much more tolerable. But still the weak link.
Corn Flakes in the Kellogg's Variety Pack: This could potentially go to Raisin Bran as well, but Corn Flakes have the roughest go because the Frosted Flakes are RIGHT FREAKING THERE. Not to mention the Froot Loops and Apple Jacks. Why bother, Kellogg's?
Boston Lager in the Samuel Adams Variety Pack: This is another one that's more a case of logic. If you're the kind of person picking up one of their variety packs, odds are you've had the BL once, twice, or 1000 times. It's perfectly fine, but they insist on including it every time up against more special releases that might even only be available in said variety pack! It's taking up valuable room!
Raisins in Trail Mix: Oh, how the tides can turn, raisins. Pour a bowl of Raisin Bran and you're the star of the show, but pit you up against salty nuts and chocolate candies that may or may not be M&Ms and suddenly the competition gets a bit more heated. It's hard to avoid them outright... but once things get to the end, you'll notice the mix is decidedly raisin-heavy.
Strawberry Neapolitan Ice Cream: Or, as I like to call it, "soon to be a 2/3-eaten carton of strawberry ice cream".
Apple Jolly Ranchers: Watermelon took a run at this crown as well, but nothing can quite match the "is this candy or some kind of congealed household cleaning product" chemicality (should be a word) of these green monstrosities.
Cantaloupe: I have no objection to cantaloupe per se, except for the fact that many a fruit salad will be 85% composed of the stuff (along with its partner in melon-crime, honeydew), crowding out tastier choices like pineapple and strawberries. Don't think I don't know what the least expensive bulk fruit salad option is, restaurant charging $5.99 for a side of fruit. This is my rationale for seldom getting a side of fruit.
This Crap: It has assorted names in various parts of the country ("Peanut Taffy" is a common one), but really it's best simply identified as "The Worst Halloween Candy Ever". Seriously -- do a Google image search for that exact phrase. See what comes up. I realize this is bending the rules a little since it isn't SOLD with all those other superior candy treats, but it still ends up among them, never to be eaten.