Humor

How Are Lucky Charms So Magically Delicious?

But how are they REALLY so magically delicious?

Reading Time: 3 minutes

If you’ve ever breathed air, you’ll know that Lucky Charms are “magically delicious,” as per Lucky the Leprechaun’s wise words. But have you ever stopped to truly understand the methodology behind such deliciousness? I bet not. But that’s my job! I hope you’ll feel enlightened by the time you reach the last line.

As I’m sure you all know, the shapes of the marshmallows found in every Lucky Charms package are hearts, shooting stars, horseshoes, green clovers, blue moons, rainbows, red balloons, and hourglasses. Wikipedia will tell you these shapes have no significance other than merely being colorful, but DEBUNKING TIME! These shapes come from real objects that Lucky the Leprechaun transformed into marshmallows on his mother’s 66th birthday. All he wanted to do was make her proud, and since she notoriously enjoyed marshmallows, he saw it as the only logical thing to do. Lucky went to the large oak tree in his backyard and stole all of the sugar from Keebler elf’s home. The two have been backyard-mates since 1997, but that’s irrelevant. Well, the more you know?

Something you might not have picked up from the Keebler elf’s TV exposure is that his sugar is actually laced with tree sap. Thus, his sugar is unintentionally laced with squirrel fur and bird feathers. Lucky found this sugar incredibly potent and stirred it with all the real objects (the hearts, shooting stars, horseshoes, green clovers, blue moons, rainbows, red balloons, and hourglasses) in a big pot. As his wooden spoon swirled round and round, the mixtures turned incredibly gelatinous (probably because of the sketchy pigeon feathers) and were ready to be set into molds.

Lucky matched each goop with a pile of the objects they were made of and covered each remaining object he had with it. That’s right! If you look really closely at your Lucky Charms horseshoe-shaped marshmallows, you’ll find horseshoes. Legend has it that you can still hear the horses they came from.

After concocting his treats, Lucky raced to his mother, who had an allergic reaction to the clover-shaped marshmallows. Aside from the anaphylactic shock she went into, she actually liked the marshmallows, but they were missing something.

Lucky’s mother went to disturb the Keebler elf and stole his silly hat. He was hiding the secret ingredient for his cookies in that hat, which is why he now wears a hat similar to Papa Smurf’s as a replacement until his new hat arrives—in approximately 300 years. This secret ingredient is so secret that even Mr. Keebler doesn’t know what it is. The only thing Lucky’s mom knew, for that matter, was that this intriguing powder Mr. Keebler kept in his hat turned his cookies from drab to fab. She added the powder to the goop and they began to twinkle and turn neon colors.

Sure enough, the marshmallows became edible. Edible to the degree that they were beloved by toddlers and no one else.

Now that the pair had a very profitable product on their hands, the only thing left to do was to profit from it. They sold Mr. Keebler’s powder and sugar back to him for double the price just for giggles and went around the forest promising eternal youth and happiness to any woodland creature who would agree to buy at least a pound of the marshmallows. The original placebo effect, if you couldn’t tell.

The woodland creatures scurried along and played schoolyard games for the rest of eternity after ingesting the fateful shapes. Lucky then wore his special belt on a trip to the big city where he signed a contract with a fellow named General Mills, who was very respected in the military. Just like that, Lucky’s Charms was shortened to Lucky Charms, and he was now the face of his own product. Since he signed 51 percent of the company over to General Mills, he naturally couldn’t control anything except the shot of his face they would put on the packaging.

In conclusion, my friends, you’re eating balloon goop every time you chow down on the Charms of Sir Lucky. Relish the fruits of his labor, I guess.