Those Auntie Anne's essential oils were an April Fools joke, but they should be real

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WHAT KIND OF MONSTER Twitter: @AuntieAnnes

I want to be very clear about one thing up front: I’m not foolin’ about this.

Every year, the brands are Back At It Again on April Fools Day, tweeting a bunch of groan-inducing… jokes, technically? that are designed to make us laugh, I guess, but that seem more like a requisite chore for any corporation that’s online in 2018. Food and beverage brands are among the worst offenders: This year alone, Burger King introduced a Chocolate Whopper (“coming soon -- maybe”), Hidden Valley Ranch “spiced things up” with a zesty line of eyeshadows and lipsticks, and White Castle packed “27 sliders and a touch of onions” into its new protein powder.

Why am I telling you? You’re on the World Wide Web, and it’s April 3 -- you get it. You’ve seen all the requisite Buzzfeed roundups by now. You've moved on.

I haven't.

Because on March 30, Auntie Anne's -- they of the buttery, greasy, perfect mall pretzels I scarfed down on countless Hot Topic trips in my youth -- perpetuated a cruel, cruel prank. Crueler, even, than the mayo-filled doughnut. They announced, via press release and tweet, that they were launching a line of essential oils.

Now, two things. First of all, I'm calling bullshit on the brands that start their April Fooling on March 31 -- let alone March 30. That's not an April Fools joke. That's a lie. 

Second: These oils should exist.

They should!

When you're walking through the Mall of America, what smells as good as Auntie Anne's? Nothing! That's what! (Not even Cinnabon! I'll say it!) 

Auntie Anne's smells like bargains and back-to-school shopping and the unfettered, blissful freedom of those first few times Mom let you roam the mall sans supervision, snacking your way through Hollister and buying unflattering tank tops. It smells the same whether you're in middle-of-nowhere Pennsylvania or middle-of-nowhere Middle America. It smells as familiar as your comfiest sweater.

It smells like home. Delicious, finger-lickin', tee shirt-staining home.

This prank has me saltier than an actual Auntie Anne's pretzel. If these existed, I'd ditch the Argan Oil and start smoothing them into my hair. I'd use them to fill cashed Glade Plugin cartridges that once held inferior, meaningless, nonsense fragrances like "Cashmere Woods" and "Blue Odyssey." I'd roll "Freshly Baked" onto my wrists and dab "Cinnamon Twist" behind my ears.

Men! Women! Dogs! No one would be able to resist me if I smelled like those sweet, buttery twists of dough.

And so, this is what I've been reduced to. Begging on the internet. What do you want from me, fickle pretzel gods? I'll prostrate myself before that foul temptress Auntie Anne herself! Just... please. Tell me what I have to do.

I never knew I needed this so badly, and since you suggested it was possible, I haven't been able to think of anything else. 

You've ruined my April Fools Day and my life.


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