Butterfinger Buzz product review.

For me, the Butterfinger Buzz was a hilarious surprise. This website shows that I'm either completely out of the loop or that the Butterfinger Buzz marketing crew is paid to manufacture synthetic hype. Regardless of whether or not Americans were reaching upward in teary-eyed enthusiasm for 'The CAFFEINE KICK of an ENERGY DRINK with the SWEET TASTE of BUTTERFINGER', one thing is for sure - I needed to know what was under that BMX-tire-to-the-face of a candy bar wrapper.

Although the bar is packaged in a standard wrapper, it should be noted that the candy comes in two pieces - one for consumption before kickflipping off the steps of the local senior center and one for the subsequent celebratory tickle fight. This two-bar design leaves the package with a nunchuck like quality that ought to appeal to the Mountain Dew & Karate Kid crowd that Butterfinger has worked so hard to attract since the 90s. And, as can be seen in the promotional videos in the link provided above, Butterfinger Buzz's target audience is exactly that - emotionally stunted late-twenty-something Xgames fans who need energy to bro around but simply can't be bothered with the tired breakfast-AND-coffee routine. For these people, Butterfinger Buzz offers a dual package. First, it combines food and liquid energy into one easy-to-consume time saving product. Secondly, it allows consumers to boldly relive the days of Butterfinger-and-Jolt Cola lunches and pizza bagel dinners, laughing fatly in the faces of all the 'organic' and 'healthy' diet trend followers of now.

After I made my Buzz purchase at the local Walgreens, I slipped the candy bar shyly into my backpack. Many have probably surrendered to the ridiculous aesthetic of X-treme marketing; however, I find it strangely embarrassing and prefer to distance myself from it by all reasonable means. Once I arrived home, I let my stomach settle from a night of over-indulgence before I cracked open my 'treat'.

The inside looked innocently similar to that of a regular butterfinger but with a slightly redder hue. Texturally, it was chewier than the original and it stuck a bit more to the teeth. One friend insisted on the existence of an unpleasant aftertaste but I was unable to detect any such thing.
Then again, eating a Butterfinger, for me, has always tasted like being stabbed in the cheek by a stale chunk of toffee so I'm not really a great authority on 'unpleasant aftertastes' here.

After picking amber glue out of my molars for a while I felt the caffeine kick in. Keep in mind, you're getting the sudden adrenal rush of an energy drink working in tandem with the slow nausea of Butterfinger consumption - neither of which are intrinsically pleasant. I basically felt like Jorge Garcia after a half-mile sprint through a brick of Miracle Whip. My blood was rushing uncomfortably through my sick veins while an indigestible candy-muck was creeping through my gastrointestinal tract. The combination of anxiety and stomach-punishment made me want to pass out.

The Buzz is a strange product. While the aesthetic and overall flavor probably appeal best to children and retarded adults, the shot-of-whiskey-chased-with-two-lines-of-blow after effect are (hopefully) not intended to entice any children. At least not the Christian kids from the suburbs. So, next time you find yourself sweating through your No Fear t-shirt (and long sleeve white undershirt) and need a little pick me up - the Butterfinger Buzz might just be the thing for you.

I give the Butterfinger Buzz a 3/10 for being absolutely brilliant ridiculous.