I've already told you about Kellogg's attempt to usurp the spooky breakfast market with the debut of the Haunted Manor Trio, an obvious attempt to steal Count Chocula's thunder. Well, the Count and friends have returned to uphold General Mills' good name, making the ongoing struggle an even three-on-three affair. But General Mills isn't run by idiots -- they've upped the ante with the addition of a surprising fourth member of their Halloween team; a familiar face who's tossed aside years of goodwill in favor of pure evil. E tu, Lucky the Leprechaun?
Yup, Lucky Charms. Who woulda thunk it? It's probably the most inspired of all of 2004's creepy cereals, with Halloween bursting out of everything from the box to the marshmallows to Lucky himself, now dressed as Bat-Chaun. The box art is nice and horrific; a dark purple forest littered with dead trees sets a perfectly frightening tone for an October breakfast. Lucky's huge trick-or-treat sack advertises the cereal's top feature: an assortment of Halloween-themed marshmallows that really, really push the boundaries of what's justifiably associated with Halloween. You'll see in a bit.
Strange to see Lucky -- Irish and thus insanely Catholic -- accept Lucifer's frigid embrace so gung-holingly. I bet General Mills offered him a yacht. A yacht with horns.
The cereal itself doesn't inspire fear in appearance, and we're so accustomed to the blinding colors of vaguely shaped marshmallows that it's hard to even notice how ghoulish they've become. They didn't reshape the actual oat bits, because clubs and spades are seasonless and suitable for any holiday. I know you can't tell much from the pile shown above, so click here for a closer inspection of Lucky's new "spooky marshmallows." Or skip that and read the next section which is entirely about them.
Five new marshmallows, five new reasons to shriek. They're indeed colorful, though nowhere near to the level shown on the box. Pale chunks of edible play chalk reside within, and for such an easily understood holiday as Halloween, General Mills sure made a few odd choices on the shapes...
Haunting Ghost: A sheeted blue ghost making a mad dash to the right, the Haunting Ghost works just fine. He's Halloween through and through and boo.
Swooping Bat: Again, no problems here. No Halloween cereal would be complete without marshmallow bats, and the fact that they're blood purple only makes their inclusion sweeter.
Magical Spell Book: Now this one's a bit odd, especially if you consider the lack of pumpkins. If I was compiling a list of potential marshmallow shapes for a Halloween cereal, magical spell books wouldn't appear until page 36 of the second legal pad.
Mystical Moon: Uh hm gah. I guess these are okay. If they were full moons, they could at least be credited with making animals go nuts and eat people, but they're not, so stop weighing that in their favor.
Bubbling Cauldron: was the name of my second grade jazz band. We could've went places.
Weird marshmallows, but weird works for Halloween. Tack on the costumed Lucky, the scene of death featured on the box, and the infamous incantation to bring alive the dead waterfowl of cities starting with the letter "W," and we've got all the makings of a breakfast cereal no self-respecting murderer could turn down. And there's more! The back of each box features not one not two but THREE cardboard cutout masks that'll make costume shopping for your little ones the cheapest, quickest endeavor in Halloween history. To illustrate their powers, I've enlisted the aid of my three elder brothers whom were recently transformed into rubber party decorations using one of the marshy spell books.
You get Frankenstein, the Wolfman and the Mummy all for one low price. And you'd give me the middle finger too if I made you be the Wolfman and let everyone else be Frankenstein and the Mummy.
Weird marshmallows, but weird works for Halloween. Tack on the costumed Lucky, the scene of death featured on the box, and the infamous incantation to bring alive the dead waterfowl of cities starting with the letter "W," and we've got all the makings of a breakfast cereal no self-respecting murderer could turn down. And there's more! The back of each box features not one not two but THREE cardboard cutout masks that'll make costume shopping for your little ones the cheapest, quickest endeavor in Halloween history. To illustrate their powers, I've enlisted the aid of my three elder brothers whom were recently transformed into rubber party decorations using one of the marshy spell books.
