Mary Beth West
Mondelez International / Triscuits
Dear Ms. West:
Recently I was enjoying your scrumptious Triscuits (Original formula, ‘natch), when I took a moment to read the “Triscuit Story” on the left side of the box (photograph included). I was very excited to read an exciting narrative about the crackers, but instead, was left rather underwhelmed. In case you aren’t familiar with the story, it reads:
The Triscuit Story:
Triscuit crackers are a snack that is deliciously wholesome.
We start with just three quality ingredients – 100% whole grain wheat, oil and salt – baked into a delicious woven cracker.
That’s it! It’s not a story really, it’s more a list of ingredients, which, I may add, you already provide in much greater detail on the other side of the box. I think you need to bring in a new writer and/or historian, and write at least one new Triscuit Story. Maybe you could have a series of stories, or better yet, an ongoing serial that people follow by reading the side of the box every month?
If you don’t mind, I’d like to take a crack at the first, new Triscuit Story. I hereby waive all rights to this story, on the condition that I am simply credited as the author of it.
It was a dark and stormy night. Commander Chester “Wheatgun” Triscuit was as much holding himself upright with the ship’s wheel as he was barely keeping the warship SS Nabisco from splintering on the rocks seemingly all around the vessel. Bolts of lightning threatened to turn all of the Triscuits to toast, but without the blinding electrical flashes as their only source of light, they would be sailing blind.
The cheddar cheese on Commander Wheatgun’s chest was still fresh as his second in command, Ensign Albert “Cado” McGrail fell into the bridge. Cado rolled on his back so that he didn’t smear his avocado and cilantro topping onto the helm’s floor.
“Commander!” the cracker barked as he climbed to his feet. “Our lookouts report the way ahead is even worse. We need to turn back, sir!”
Failure was not a word in Commander Wheatgun’s vocabulary.
“We will make that party, ensign,” the crispy, cheesy leader stated with authority. “No amount of rain or weather will stop Triscuits from showing up to a party!”
The fearless leader cackled with insane glee, and turned the SS Nabisco directly into the angry heart of the storm…
I don’t want to ruin the rest of the story, but I imagine the Commander and his crackers eventually make the party, and are eaten by the humans there. We could stretch the story out a bit, though – really treat it like a modern Odyssey. You know, travels to distant lands, evil sirens, you name it, but I think it’s important that the crackers still make it to the party on time, as it’s better for the brand.
I look forward to hearing back from you.
Quincy, MA 02171