Pilsbury Monster Cookies

They're rancid.

If you're a halloween enthusiast you've probably heard of or tried Count Chocula cereal - if you haven't, it's basically a spooky version of Lucky Charms. And if you're a halloween enthusiast who lives in Canada, you were probably as devastated as I was to find that a couple of years ago the previously hard-to-find seasonal cereal had become impossible to find north of the border. Did covid kill Count Chocula? I have no idea, but it might be a fun rumour to start.

Regardless of the reason, getting my annual fix of soggy bat-shaped wheat bits now requires a trip across the national border, which was fine when I was perched above New England, but is much less likely now that I'm atop North Dakota (no offense). So my wife and I were beyond stoked when we found these Count Chocula (tm) cookies in the grocery aisle with our other favourite heavily processed seasonal treat, the pilsbury halloween cookies.

Eagle-eyed readers may have noticed that the package in the photo promises Frankenberry "berry" flavoured cookies as well as the chocolate ones. I haven't mentioned Frankenberry cereal yet for the simple reason that it's absolutely disgusting. I don't know quite how to describe the flavour for those who haven't tried it - it's a bit like that "blue raspberry" flavour that slurpees and candies come in, but on a cereal. Mary Shelley doesn't deserve this. Tragically, the inclusion of this inferior halloween-themed-cereal-based biscuit in the same package wrought the ruin of all.

The first thing one notices upon opening the plastic wrapper is a nauseating aroma of sort-of-chocolate and fake fruit. It's truly powerful. The uncooked cookies share the same paper tray, separated by only a few centimeters - and as anyone who's seen Van Helsing (2004) knows, you should never let a Dracula anywhere near a Frankenstein. If you hold onto any hope that the flavour might be better than the smell, you will be sorely disappointed; the cookies all taste the same, which is to say like they were made of pulverised flintstones vitamins and chocolate-flavoured Ensure. It's like a sad mockery of my favourite Halloween treats - salt in the wound, really. The package still sits in our freezer, half-full, forsaken. Much like Dracula and Frankenstein's monster, the cookies are trapped in a sort of limbo; between the human and inhuman; the edible and the compost.

If anyone in Canada spots the real Count Chocula up here, please leave a comment below. Please. Until I see it again, I'll be trying any brand collab and knockoff I come across and reporting on it right here - your number one source for disgusting halloween-themed cereal news.