As we're killing time before the show, wandering around the massive COEX mall, Shane pops out of his pocket one of the best gifts I have ever received. My first, and very own Engrish artifact (not counting the "Crunky" chocolate bar wrapper). Often times Korean salespeople like to give an additional product to good customers who buy lots— like the cuttlefish bread I got from the bakery. They call it a "service." Today I got some redundant instant coffee tubes, gratis, when I bought a coffee press and real Columbian grinds at the Hyundai Department Store. Nice gesture, but sort of like a cavity check after a kiss. Anyway, weeks ago after making a few purchases for Halloween at a novelty shop, the storekeeper rewarded Shane with the service of all services. Two of them in fact. He gave one to me. I hope no one slipped on the puddle of tears of laughter I must have left on the COEX floor:
So in and of itself, the wording is hilarious, but it leaves you to wonder. Where, and dear God why, do "cock" and "fright" feature in this equation? And where lies the game of this fake chewing gum pack?
The answer is most sadistic. Such that the makers felt it necessary to include a special moral warning on the inside. I'll share that in a moment. First, the game.
You offer a dimwitted friend a stick of gum. They think it's generous, and not suspicious that you offer them the last and only stick in the pack. Paying no heed to the ominous claims on the wrapper they reach for the minty goodness...
"Ohhhhh! 'Cock' as in roach! And 'fright' because instead of enjoying delicious gum I was instead attacked by a stinky and malformed rubber insect. And game because... remind me again how this is a game, asshole."
It's your standard joke store fare, along with itching powder and a coffee mug that looks like a boob or something. But the cock mint frosting on this particular, and now unsettlingly erotic, cake is the warning on the inside:
Just in case the Chinese manufactures found themselves at the epicenter of a heart-attack and pant-soiling epidemic by the weak and fearful, they made sure their hands were clean. I'm afraid the same probably can't be said for the cowards who can't handle a little honest "cock fright." Society is better off without them anyway.
"Warning! Don't joke to sick man or cowardiness."
I can only hope Wrigley's is blissfully unaware of this ticking time bomb of spring-coiled terror.
Indeed, the cock ticks on...