Gentle Reader, in an attempt at making marginally better dietary choices**, I’ve been snacking my merry way through the various flavors of Pepperidge Farm Goldfish crackers. I began, as one does, with the classic Cheddar bag and moved on to the Parmesan. There’s also a line of “Flavor Blasted” options, with intense names like “Slammin’ Sour Cream N’ Onion” and “XPlosive Pizza.”
**My extremely scientific research on this essentially came down to “These are crackers and they’re baked, so they HAVE to be a healthier choice than Doritos, right?” In a rare breach of protocol, I did not actually compared the labels until approximately 10 minutes ago. This is a story about how you should always compare the labels.
Yesterday, I selected my newest experiment: Cinnamon Grahams, baked with whole grain. I am a strong cinnamon advocate--at least in most cases–and it’s often my go-to spice when I’m trying something new or am curious about reinventing something familiar.
The crackers themselves were quite good–like more subtle Teddy Grahams. But the magic, Reader, sprung upon me when I rotated the bag and my eyes rested upon THIS:
Take a moment to appreciate the majesty. We have been given a two-part pun that doesn’t really make much sense when you’re overly pedantic about it, wrapped in a Dad Joke shell. It’s genius. It’s terrible. That fish is only wearing sunglasses so it can look smug when you’re reading its comedic contribution to the world.
Were I not already committed to the Pepperidge Farm Project, as it’s officially called***, I would purchase a bag based solely on its puntasticness.
***Well…it is now, anyway.
It’s what C.J. Cregg would do.