97% of the world is hopelessly addicted to Candy Crush, and yet nobody wants to eat its candies. Of all the sugary treats, the makers of Candy Crush seem to have purposely picked the worst examples. Maybe that's because they knew that if their game consisted of a board full of Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, nobody would dare crush them. Which means no one would spend money on extra lives or boosters to crush them more effectively. And then the stock market would crash. Advanced macroeconomics aside, there's still the question: if you could open up your iPad and dump them out, what exactly would these candies taste like? Here's my breakdown:
What would the Candy Crush candies actually TASTE like?
Green Squares: These look like the things that've sat in a bowl in every grandmother’s house since the time they became a grandmother, and were issued them by some Grandmother Candy Service. They’re essentially there just to scare you into thinking grandmothers only have crappy candy, so you don't go snooping around for their good stuff.
Theoretical Deliciousness Rating: 1
Red Curvy Things: These are one of the few truly recognizable candies in the whole game. They’re Hot Tamales! Except... wait, they’re not, because Hot Tamales are straight, and these have that little curve to them. So basically, they’re banana Runts cross-bred with Hot Tamales. How is this even possible?! It’s hard enough to convince real-life candies to have sex and then have candy children, let alone iPhone candies. And yet here they are.
Theoretical Deliciousness Rating: 3, mainly due to the banana Runt-ness.
Yellow Egg Things: Are these maybe some sort of cool, seasonal, yellow version of Cadbury Creme Eggs that come out around whatever holiday is represented by yellow? What holiday is that? Turns out no holiday, as when you Google “yellow holiday”, the Holiday, FL Yellow Pages are basically all the results.
Theoretical Deliciousness Rating: Anywhere from 2 (if hard) to 7.5 (if Cadbury-ish).
Blue Circle with Ring Things: These are kinda cool because, when the game recommends you line them up and they pulsate, that little ring makes them look like Neptune on some NOVA animation from the '80s. In other news, no matter how tempting it is, don't you dare line them up. Literally every other move is a better move and the game is trying to trick you into giving it all your heirloom 99-cent pieces for more lives.
Theoretical Deliciousness Rating: 6.5, mainly because eating planets is dope and makes you feel powerful.
Purple Multi Circle Things: These win points for being the one base Candy Crush candy that’s definitely a chewy candy, maybe. Get ready for more candy banging: if Jujubes combined with an alien life form and had children, those children would hatch from these. So you’d better eat them before they make a crappy prequel out of it starring Stringer Bell and an admittedly very good Michael Fassbender.
Theoretical Deliciousness Rating: 6.5. So pretty tasty, although if the alien thing is true, they likely feel the same way about you.
Orange Werther’s Original Things: The dimensions aren't quite right, so maybe they’re knockoff Werther’s from Walmart, which Walmart sells at a much, much lower price due to economies of scale, and the fact that they don’t have to pay royalties for sappy songs in commercials portraying grandfathers who only know how to win their grandchildren's love by giving them candy.
Theoretical Deliciousness Rating: 8.5, as, for some reason, I really love Werther’s Originals.
The Circular Candy That Seems to Have All the Other Candies Pressed into Its Sides Even Though There Are No White Candies, and It Has Those Too: This looks like someone chewed up a huge wad of black gum, which is pretty gross on its own, and rolled it around on the ground until it attracted enough candies to be considered “covered”, which is grosser.
Theoretical Deliciousness Rating: 3, only because 1) it is capable of deleting other candies that are no good in one fell zap, and 2) my GF calls it a “donut”, and if that’s true, I want one despite all the above stuff.
All Bagged Candy: You really shouldn’t have to work this hard to get candy that’s factory-wrapped and sanitary.
Theoretical Deliciousness Rating: Obviously, this depends on the candy, but add one point for the assurance that nobody licked your candy, then placed it back into the infrastructure of an app-based game.
Chocolate: So, call me barmy (that’s a very loose synonym for “crazy” I just looked up and will probably start using when I talk to chimney sweeps), but this looks like pretty good chocolate! Plus, it does that thing where it just keeps growing, which, while not great from an "I wish I could pass level 65 in less than a three-month period" standpoint, is good from a "there's now a lot more digital chocolate to eat" standpoint.
Theoretical Deliciousness Rating: 8.5
Coiled Licorice: It’s not even red. Just... sick.
Theoretical Deliciousness Rating: No.
Sugar Crush Swedish Fish Things: My entire life, I’ve wished that when I did something well, a whole bunch of Swedish Fish would appear in the air so I could grab them and eat them. That dream has never come true, and I’ve had to settle for taking jobs as a camp counselor so I could con my kids into buying Swedish Fish from the vending machine right before swim class, then steal them from their bags while they were in the pool. Now I can finally quit that job.
Theoretical Deliciousness Rating: 10
Frosting: Considering that it shatters into a billion pieces and then vaporizes every time anything falls on it, it stands to reason that this is not very good frosting at all.
Theoretical Deliciousness Rating: Negative 4, but still better than most novelty cakes sold in grocery stores.