The Brunch ice cream is an April Fool’s Day prank gone horribly awry.
It’s the only logical explanation.
We see it all the time these days. Brands come up with a ludicrous concept that sits just on the right side of reality, then feed it out to the masses as a genuine idea… Google using pigeons to power their search engine, Domino’s delivering pizzas via driverless motorcyles, or Four Star doing it using horses. The tiresome list goes on.
Some people bite, some people don’t, and ultimately we all move forward with our lives.
Let’s take a step back for a moment, and describe what we’re talking about.
After all, some readers may still labour blissfully under the impression that ‘Brunch’ has always been a word for a fashionable and decadent meal served during weekends.
But no. The Brunch that we refer to here is, on paper at least, an ice pop.
Its inner core is composed of raspberry or strawberry ice cream – extensive scientific research, conducted under controlled conditions have not concluded anything beyond the fact that it is pink – while its outer core is nice, safe vanilla.
So far, so inoffensive, right?
However, like the stars of scripted reality shows, it’s what’s on the outside that counts. And what’s on the outside is… well, it’s what happens when creative minds are left uncontrolled, and use their ability to conceive far-fetched notions for evil rather than good.
The outside is a collection of garishly coloured sprinkles, pasted into the ice cream’s outer core (presumably using super-glue, for clearly these people will stop at nothing). And while, at first glance, it may appear that these are merely hundreds-and-thousands – the multicoloured sprinkles that have adorned many a 99 – they are not.
In actual fact, they’re… dyed biscuit crumbs.
Dyed. Biscuit. Crumbs.
This takes us back to the idea of all this having begun as some form of April Fool’s joke.
Like I said above, some of these try-hard corporate japes get taken seriously, some get instantly dismissed, but all eventually fade away to nothing; at best, they'll see out their days as staples of ‘Best Ever April Fools Gags’ listicles for a few years into the future.
But at some point in the 1990s or the 1980s, or whenever these vile creations came to market, the joke seems to have stuck – the public, presumably wowed by the array of bright colours in an era where the Catholic Church still imposed black-and-white upon the nation, lapped up the concept.
The fat cats at the helm of Big Ice Cream heard the desperate cries of the proletariat – having already named the joke product after a meal they were confident the average Irish person would not have heard of – and almost immediately, the Brunch became a regular in every freezer across the land.
It’s the only logical explanation I can think of, it’s the only logical reason I can accept. And Lord knows I’ve given it enough thought.
That's because the alternative is all the more terrifying
The alternative means that someone entered a meeting room, suggested the idea of vividly dyed breadcrumbs pasted to a slab of ice cream on a stick... and was not fired on the spot.
Do you want to live in a country where such an injustice could take place? Do you want to accept a reality where such sick and depraved thoughts are not punished, but encouraged, in corporate Ireland?
I know I don’t.
This joke at the expense of the Irish people has gone on for too long; it's time we stood up and finally fought to be taken seriously. Our future, and the future of our children, depends squarely upon it.
Editor's note: Two Brunch ice creams were purchased at a cost of €2.78 for the purposes of research towards this article. Both have since been destroyed under supervision, and all photos were taken with the aid of qualified scientists and safety experts.