Category: Spooky

It’s again the time of year when the snow has vanished, and it’s time for the revival of outside-type activities. Well, for normal people anyhow. Me, I still just sit inside and play video games or type up crap like this. But in the spring and summertime, I often get the chance to sit inside and play video games out at the cottage. And if there’s anything better about going to the cottage than getting to play with the air rifle, it’s getting to browse the dollar stores in the local town. Oh yeah, it’s time for round two.

This year, I knew what I was doing. It wasn’t just a “find anything at all that stands out” affair like it’s been in years past. I knew that the “surprise bag” articles were among some of the top ranked that I’ve written, so I had a mission: find me as many of the damn things as I could. Sadly, as I said in last year’s Dick Turtle review, the places don’t restock stuff like this. The most likely cause is that these things went out of production seven hunred years ago. So unfortunately, I was only able to grab two of the Dick Turtle bags. There were no others, and I decided to leave one behind to see if anyone else ever bought these things. I guess I’ll find out next time I go.

On the pro side, if I were able to buy these things en masse, they’re only fifty cents a bag, so it’s not like it’s a big drain on my funds. Those name brand bags (which are crap as far as surprises go) can go for anywhere up to two bucks, so a cheap reject from the stupid age is like a blessing filled with several little curses (should you try to consume the contents).

Ah, the memories come flooding back. In case you missed the first one (which I’d like to doubt) here’s a link to that one. If you don’t want to read through it, or just want a little refresher, basically, this “Dick Turtle Surprise Bag” is a very old-looking plastic bag containing several assorted things. These can range from candy to toys to fake jewlery to mini-ninjas. God knows when these things were actually made, but the bags themselves look to be about five thousand years older than most of their contents. But age is of no consequence. It’s time to move on.

Ripping open the first bag, I found that it contained a much wider variety of crap than last year’s bag did. No, wait. It’s just a bunch of useless junk and bad candy again. Nevermind what I said. It contained essentially the same spread of stuff as my last DT bag did. Let’s take a closer look, shall we?

Starting off on the same foot as last time, we see that ol’ Dick is as inconsistent as ever. But at least he’s consistently inconsistent. I think. Anyhow, I’ll point out for nostaligia’s sake that the Dick Turtle on the card shown above is clearly not the same Dick Turtle that graces the front of the surprise bag. How the producers of this product managed to think that they’d get away with this travesty is beyond me, but they managed to pull it off. I guess. … OK, onto the next paragraph.

This time around, Dick tells us to avoid skating on frozen lakes or ponds. I can tell you from experience that whilst ponds and lakes may be dangerous, it is perfectly okay to skate on a frozen river. Just don’t walk around on it. That’s when you fall through and end up a Ryansicle. Unless you’re just heading out to the ice fishing hut. Then you’ll be a-okay. The moral of this story: there was no story.

You know, after going over this puzzle less than once, I realized that clue #4 has absolutely no bearing on the result. Assuming that you’re crossing off pirates once they’re ruled out, and following the clues in order, you’ve already found the culprit by clue #3. I really wanted to make a joke about how one of these guys looks like some sort of pop culture icon, but none of them bear any resemblance to anything. It was pirate E. And he sucks, because he failed to steal the treasure.

How accurate. Kinda makes you wonder how widely these were distributed. Or maybe they were just thrown together by one of the locals in an attempt to make a quick buck (or $1.50, considering I’m probably the only one ever to buy these things). I mean, they have no sort of… Wait a tick! Upon closer inspection, they were produced by… a bunch of Newfies. Apparently they go by the name “The Surprise Bag Company”. After a little research, I discovered absouluely nothing other than this. Hover over the clown picture for a little briefing on the SBC, and click on him to be taken to a webpage that isn’t there. Other than that, there isn’t a lot that Google can tell me about them. I guess it’s a good thing I never noticed the mailing address on the back of the bag last time, or else I’d be out a paragraph of material here.

Woah. Stop the presses. Forget what I said about accurate. The Jets never won the Stanley Cup. As far as I know, they never even came close. Yes, the Winnipeg Victorias took it waaaaay back in 1896, and then again in 1901 and 02, but I hardly think anyone would fashion a toy ring for events so ancient and obscure.

Next up…. A fake tooth. Yow. That one was in deep. Either way, it’s neither interesting to look at, read about, or even write about, so how about I tell you about my day about? No? Fine. Aboot.

Ooh! Candy for all you technologically inclined types out there. They even spelled it ‘bytes’. I guess that about sums it up. Aside from the redundancy of putting both ‘mini’ and ‘micro’ in the name, the package hasn’t got anything to offer, aside from it’s sweet, sweet (here’s hoping) contents. Oh yeah, and remember that raindrop-headed guy. You’ll be seeing more of him before the day is done.

The candies certainly do look appealing. They’re all colourful and tiny. Mini they are. And micro as well. So I threw ’em back, and it turns out they’re pretty good. You know Sweet Tarts? Kinda like those, but not as chewy. Or at least not as chewy as Chewy Sweet Tarts. And just now I looked at the back of the bag, and the thing is dated 1998. Candy doesn’t really go bad, right? I survived the last bag of stuff, after all. But I can’t recall actually eating any of it. If I turn up dead in the next little while, I blame Newfoundland.

This one’s a bit of a toss-up. I really should have just put the two pics side-by-side, but screw that. I’m getting my extra paragraph. By the by, I pretty much destroyed that capsule trying to get it open. I’m not good with vending machine capsules. Never have been, never will be.

Did you see that coming? I didn’t. Why would anyone want a tiny decorative plate featuring a sleeping star who’s mouth is zippered shut? Moreover, why would anyone want a tiny decorative plate? Perhaps to compliment their tiny sports team logo’d mugs? So they have something to display in their tiny china cabinet? To throw in the air and shoot with their tiny clay shooting rifle? Life is full of mysteries, and this is certainly one that will never be solved. I hate that star.

When the casket fell out of the bag as I was shaking it furiously, a wave of pure dread washed over me. Not only because I had to try to review something a second time and make it seem like new, but also because I feared that the skeletons from last year were out for revenge on me. But this one could hold something different, right? There was no guarantee that even though it looked the exact same and had the same “Mr. Bones” engraved on the top, it held the same stuff as the last coffin.

Hopes were crushed, curses were placed, and untruths were typed. There was no curse, nevermind several of them. My hopes that something different would be inside were indeed crushed, however. It’s the same bone candy that I discovered in the last article, and this batch is just as brittle and crappy as the last, making it impossible to actually hook the bones together. So I’m a little sad that there’s a repeat item, but at least this a repeat of a somewhat cool item. We’ll be suffering much greater disappointment a little later on.

And that does it for the first bag. I’d say the Winnipeg ring is the best thing in there, simply because of the coincidence of finding a toy ring that is emblazoned with the name of my city in a bag of completely random junk. The biggest let-down was the tooth. Sure, it had blood on it, but nobody, and not even nobody’s uncle Leopold would for even a second believe it to be a real tooth, so it’s got no prank value for something that should be rich in the stuff.

Now we’re gonna kick it up a notch and delve into the mysteries of the second Dick Turtle Surprise Bag. If it were possible for me to write more about this junk, you’d be clicking a link to go to a second page, but even I can’t reach for that much filler with this crap as source material, so you get off easy this time.

Dick’s advice is a little less stupid this time. I mean, not every kid is going to be presented with the option to skate on a frozen lake or pond, but almost every child will, at some point in their life, have to cross a road. But really, we all know that Dick goesn’t give a flying rat’s ass about children. He’s just trying to better his image to give himself more leverage with the voters. Bastard is all about politics.

Do you want to colour a giant space turtle humping a rocket? I don’t, but if you do, today’s your lucky day! Save the pic, blow it up a little in Photoshop or something, and colour it in! Send it to me afterward, and I’ll make a Dick Turtle gallery and put all of your pretty pictures in it. That’s a promise. If I get even one submission, the gallery will be there. Eventually. So do it!

But seriously, where do they get off calling this a puzzle?

Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged back in. At first glance, it’s just the Mini Micro Bytes again, but if you look real close, you’ll still think they’re the Mini Micro Bytes again. But these packages hold a terrifying secret! While the previous ones were more cylindrical in shape, these bytes are… circles! Okay. I’ll admit it. I’ve got nothing. But then again, do I ever really have something?

I don’t know what the hell this is. Some kind of cat toy of something. It’s just a smiley face in the middle of a plastic ball, with little balls boucing around inside. You can make it jingle a bit, but not much else. At least it should make good lighter fodder come stuff-burnin’ season. Which is now.

You can’t tell from the tiny pic, but that pink thing on the corner of the Mini Tarts packages is the same dude from the Mini Micro Bytes. Word on the street is that he calls himself the Goody Guy. Anyhow, further investigation reveals that not only are the Mini Tarts the exact same candy as their Mini Micro bretheren, but that they were produced a year earlier. I’m not sure what the deciding factor is, but these ones taste marginally worse than the others. Maybe the year made a difference after all? Or perhaps the Bytes were just an improvement on the Tart formula. We may never know. I hope you stay up all night pondering, cause I’ll feel bad if I’m the only one.

More bytes. Only this time they’ve got a block in a diaper representing them. Oh, and they’re made by an entirely different company. Hard as stone and more revolting than a bag of pig ears, these are certainly not good candy. Simply put: they’re shitty Chiclets. They won’t make you want to induce vomiting like those damned bones (a fact I may have omitted earlier), but they do border on nasty.

Two items left, and we’ve got another crappy ring. Only this one looks like a bad Dino wannabe. I’m not even sure if it’s supposed to be a dinosaur at all, nevermind a ripoff of an established character. It could very well be a very poorly drawn duck. I’ve seen worse.

And our final item of the day is this… notebook… thing. It’s tiny, and I doubt anyone without mad skillz similar to mine could have any change of writing legibly in it. Crap. I’m tired of writing about stuff. It’s time to wrap things up and hope I never find another Dick Turtle bag again.

I guess that maybe, maybe if the remaining Dick Turtle Surprise Bag is still sitting in that Bargain Shop next summer, I’ll pick it up and review it. I really don’t think so though, because it took two of them to fill an entire article, should you neglect that a lot of stuff that could have been said was written during the first DT bag review. And if there’s only one left, you’re probably only going to get a mini-review out of it at best, unless I just throw length to the wind and decide to do it just for the sake of getting to use the word ‘dick’ more.

So yes, that’s probably the last of Dick Turtle you’ll be seeing on this website. Unless of course, someone acutually takes up my offer of colouring the Dick Turtle picture. Of course, if you really need a Dick Turtle fix, you could drive out to Lac du Bonnet and search out that last bag for yourself… Me, I’m just gonna look up an antidote for all that candy that probably poisoned me.