Cadbury Creme Eggs ‘go gooless’ to offer consumers cash prizes
Source: Cadbury Creme EggsCadbury’s Creme Egg is set to unveil eggs without the goo for the first time, as 90 eggs will be made without the fondant filling as part of a three-month nationwide promotion under the banner: Unwrap the Gooless Cadbury Creme Egg.
The eggs will feature a ‘you’re a winner’ ticket inside instead of goo, but will be indistinguishable from the usual Creme Eggs in terms of looks and weight.
Those who receive a winner egg will be able to claim a cash prize between £100 to £1000, as part of the campaign developed in-house by the Cadbury brand customer marketing team.
Laurie Billson, customer marketing manager at Mondelez International , said: “We brought in PromoVeritas to guarantee impartiality and fairness and to make sure all winning Gooless Cadbury Creme Eggs are distributed at random and in accordance with the CAP Code.
“We put a heavy emphasis on ensuring that all Cadbury brand promotions are fair, compliant and offer an equal opportunity for consumers to win and share in the excitement of the promotion.
“As a company, we have worked with PromoVeritas on a number of promotions, most significantly the Cadbury Unwrap Gold promotion which offered tickets to London 2012 via hundreds of Golden Ticket bars. Their expertise fills a vital gap that is often overlooked by many promoters.”
PromoVeritas will be responsible for validating all winning claims.
I like these:
mostly because they're fun to set on fire.
"Right is right, even if no one is doing it; wrong is wrong, even if everyone is doing it." - St. Augustine
"Right is right, even if no one is doing it; wrong is wrong, even if everyone is doing it." - St. Augustine
When you eat these, do they retain their color...you know...I mean, can the human body break down those colors or do they reappear...in a different form?
My Primal Journal: http://www.marksdailyapple.com/forum/thread53052.html
“"Freedom from fear" could be said to sum up the whole philosophy of human rights. - Dag Hammarskjold
My girls always toast their Peeps before eating at Easter. I have not had one, but they say they are FABULOUS! Especially sandwiched with chocolate Easter bunny.
First, happy almost spring! Also, I hope daylight saving time dies in a fire.
Cue public service announcement!
Read any good books lately? Say books by one Macaulay C. Hunter? If so, I'll bet your fingers are just itching to put up a review . . . 'Cause 'Caulay's books need some love. Plus, reviews really help to get them noticed as well as to keep a certain Pandapants in the writing business!
This has been a public service announcement by your friendly neighborhood Lady Friend.
That is all.
PART ONE: I suffer* for my art.
But before I go any further, thank you for writing in your camping (or lack thereof) comments. I have returned from the wilderness, in which a short hike was enough to convince me to go back to the Magical Bamboo Forest and get indoors. I love the indoors. I control the temperature. There is never an ominous buzzing near my ear, nor are my hallways made of sharp, upward slopes to the bedrooms and bathroom. This would certainly make my house a lot more interesting, being on an angle. But while I would truly love to live in Lothlorien as Panda Ruler of the Elves, I confess that my first royal decree would be for my minions to install a Panada-sized bucket and a long length of their unbreakable rope. Then they just could just pull me to the higher levels, and I could bypass the stairs.
Lady Friend is a bizarre person who loves the outdoors, so she was very excited to accompany me on this hike. You see, Lady Friend has the crazy hair that one associates with a mad scientist, although in her case, she is a mad botanist. Rather than look in furiously bubbling beakers of green goo and cackling wildly, she is the sort to nearly drive off the freeway because she has spotted some patch of green growing off the shoulder that is not exactly like all of the other patches of green, and to her this is exciting. It must be identified. Is that patch of green the non-native lawrkghowighnoieghvowi or is it the native w3o4igh2oihgnoirgh89? Hmm. Are the leaves flat or round? Is the bark reddish or brownish-red? Are the- At this point, whoever is trapped in the car with her usually screams, “YOU ARE DRIVING OFF THE ROAD!!!” and she jerks back into the lane, the plant taunting her with its mystery for the rest of the trip.
There are many things I do not understand about Lady Friend, like her bad habit of roadside botanizing and how she eats the purple potatoes in the Whole Foods Mini Potato Tri-Color Fun Bag. But then again, there are many things she does not understand about me. A patch of green looks like every other patch of green in the eyes of Panda, and currently on the second shelf of the pantry are two bags of potatoes that have been drained by two-thirds of their contents. I ate the red ones. I ate the yellow ones. I put the purple ones in the pantry and hope they will take the hint and go away on their own. I don’t like purple potatoes, but Whole Foods denies me bags of only yellow and red potatoes. Purple potatoes taste purple. And I don’t like the taste of purple.
So we drove to this Nature Paradise or Nature Torture depending on whose opinion one solicited, and Lady Friend managed not to kill us with her botanizing on the way. Since I am writing this, and Lady Friend is off at work blissfully unaware** that I am talking about her crazy hair and weird hobbies and bizarre taste in potatoes, we will call it Nature Torture Park. Nature Torture Park is a lovely place to see on a painting while safely ensconced in a temperature-controlled museum. But I had to see it in the raw, in order to use it for a book later. Opening my car door, I announced nobly that I suffer for my art while a joyful Lady Friend leaped to the trunk for her fanny pack. It was filled with things like water and trail mix, but no bear spray. To me, this is just asking for a bear attack to happen. And then there would be cameras and reporters and a covered stretcher coming down the hill, with some person sniveling off-screen, “Why, oh why didn’t that poor soul take bear spray? It’s spring. The bears are waking up from hibernation and they’re hungry. City folk.”
PART TWO: The one good thing is that it would not be Gay Panda on the stretcher. I run faster than Lady Friend. That is why you should always hike with someone who goes more slowly than you do.
Since Lady Friend lives a life without fear, she soldiered forward to this wild kingdom without bear spray. We should all be so brave, or perhaps the word I am seeking is reckless. Nature Torture Park has a variety of hiking trails, and we selected Ominous Buzz Path. There was also a Climb To The Sun Path and an Invisible Path, but the sun is very far away and the invisible path could not be found. This left us with Ominous Buzz. It was quite eroded and speckled with heaps of horse poo. Lady Friend introduced me to Our Friend Poison Oak, which grew in proliferation all along the sides of the path. Then she started botanizing in a frenzy, while I trudged up the ninety-degree incline and thought about my lovely flat house. People lugged themselves up it with fighting staffs or walking sticks, depending on your state of fanciful.**** Horses charged up the path as traffic droned far away on the road below. Lady Friend quizzed me on the plants, which is as fruitless an exercise as expecting me to like the taste of purple. Then she spotted a mysterious red patch that required her attention, and staggered along with her cell phone on a botany site in her hand.
We walked through sunny places and shady places, going ever up and up, and in time my quads were screaming in dismay at this abuse. Lady Friend snapped pictures so that I can look at them from the comfort of my sofa when it comes time for me to write certain scenes, and remember what it was like to be there in panda. Ominous buzzing spurred me on when I felt like I could go no further. Up and up and up, and finally we reached a split of path and a lovely sign that read CIVILIZATION BACK THIS WAY ONE MILE***** or at least that was the emotion behind it. My quads were tweaking with every step by this point, so I declared research concluded.
Crying out in wonder, Lady Friend put her face right up next to a redwood smothered in Infinite Ants. I squawked and backed away hastily while Lady Friend noted that Infinite Ants had gray thoraxes and red something-or-others, and which of her mad botanist friends she could consult for the type. I was not about to get close enough to debate the colors. Sticking your face into a swarm seems like a very bad idea, just like in a horror movie when a Pretty Young Thing hears a scream in the dark woods and decides the best course of action is to investigate it alone.
Then Lady Friend discovered yet another path of interesting foliage, and was soon far behind while I let gravity pull me down the slope. CIVILIZATION. The word was my siren song. It was probably not smart to be separated in case of a bear attack, but gravity exerted a greater power upon my person than imaginary fears. The ominous buzzing continued.
PART THREE: I have never been so happy to see a parking lot in my life. Choosing not to think about the two other hikes I will have to take for this book, I sank into the car and thought about spending the rest of the day on the sofa. Lady Friend bubbled about plants while she drove us away from Nature Torture Park. We weaved through the city and merged onto the freeway, where all of Lady Friend’s bravery disintegrated into a scream of terror.
There was a spider in the car.
She yanked off the freeway to the shoulder while it crawled around. Once stopped with emergency lights flashing, Lady Friend let herself out and ran around to hide behind the car while I searched for wherever the spider had gone so I could squash it. But it had crawled under the dashboard and was out of reach.
Lady Friend will stick her face into a swarm of Infinite Ants and climb about the wilderness without bear spray, but she has a serious spider phobia. Since the spider could not be found, it appeared the best course of action was to name the spider and make it sound friendly rather than terrifying. She made me watch for Moses the rest of the very long drive, in between glaring at me for naming it at all.
And so Gay Panda went on a hike and survived, and there you have it.
Last edited by Gay Panda; 03-11-2013 at 09:15 AM.
UPDATE: (in explanation of *, **, ***, **** and *****)
* No, I don’t. I just love the melodrama of that statement.
** Unaware until the next time she clicks on FABULOUS. Hi, Lady Friend! Would you like two bags of purple potatoes?***
*** Hmm. It’s actually three bags now. Purple Potato Party!
**** Fighting staffs!!!
***** It was 1.1 miles, to be exact.