Bests & Worsts Reviews from Amazon

I'm like a lot of other people. I've read the reviews for the Haribo Sugar Free gummy bears and laughed my hiney off. For me, though, that wasn't enough. I wanted to willingly subject myself to the hell bears of lore. The unfortunate catch is that the five-pound bag of actual Haribo candies is $136. I'm in college. Ain't nobody got money for that. So, with Google as my trust companion, I went digging to see exactly what in the sugar-free bears caused people such volatile, poo-related escapades. I quickly found the the culprit to be a chemical compound known as lycasin. Now lycasin has a fun little ingredient in it called maltitol. This, ladies and gentleman, is your diarrhea-inducing little devil of a sugar substitute. So I thought to myself, "Why not search Amazon for for lycasin?" Lo and behold, after a quick search, this very product popped up. Reading through a few of the other reviews assured me that this was what I was looking for, and for quite a paltry sum at that. So, armed with my free trial of Amazon Prime, I placed my order. Fast forward two days later (yesterday). True to their word, my gummy tummy moshers arrived. Upon opening the packaging, I happened to glance over the ingredient list on the front of the product. The first one listed? Maltitol. That's a bingo. I would have launched my fearless march into the realm of explosive bowel movements right then, had I not already made plans to meet a friend for drinks that night. Two beers, one shot of whiskey, and several hours later, I'm back home with my sweet gummy atrocities, watching 30 Rock with my roommates. In one sitting, I took out half of the one-pound bag. Is that an irresponsible, stupid decision? You bet your bottom dollar it is. Do I really give two shakes? No, sir/ma'am. Being an American, college-age male, it is my inalienable right to lurch from one poor decision to the next until I'm finally forced to start my life. However, that is somewhat beside the point. After ingesting a half-pound of the delicious-tasting gummies, I passed out on the couch at a little past midnight. Now fast forward again to four hours later. I'm awakened by mild bloating and moderate abdominal pain. Knowing what awaits, I shuffle to the upstairs bathroom and sit myself down upon the throne. What happened next can only be accurately described by the words "butt vomit". A predominantly liquid composition, lightly flecked with with solid matter, shot from my bum-hole with all the force of a thousand suns. This continued for a half-hour as my body continued to forcibly banish all non-essential liquids to the porcelain bowl. Finally, I felt confident enough to clean myself up and go back to sleep. Again at seven, the same gut-pain and rumblies in my tummy urged me to seek refuge atop my porcelain tower. In much the same fashion, watery waste material was banished from my colon in a flourish of squelching flatulence and churning of bowels. And again in a half hour, my second tour of duty (or rather "doody") was at an end. However, in comparison to many of the other reviews posted about these types of candies, I can honestly say that it was not white-hot magma shooting out of my poop cannon, nor was it accompanied by the vile smells of high-decibel farts. Farts? Yes. Copious butt-vomit? You bet. Torturous experience? Not on any level. It is now eight and a half hours after eating the stanky bears that I'm composing this review. Have the effects entirely subsided? Not at all. I expect my stomach to hate me for at least a few more hours before normalcy returns to my bowels. It did give me a very ample excuse for not attending class this morning though. As for the product itself, it absolutely delivered in every way I expected it to. The bears themselves are delightfully tasty, which only seems to be a guise for their malicious intent of liquefying the contents of your stomach and forcing them through your sphincter faster than a stampeding herd of cattle. For any intrepid travel wishing to embark on a delectable, yet liquid-poo-inducing voyage, these bears are the way to do it on a budget. If you do decide to take that fateful leap, may you remember the words of David Bowie: "Check ignition, and may God's love be with you."