Whoever invented Haribo candy made some mistakes. The first is the dual icons they chose—a pale little boy with a mop of black hair on his head and an effeminate bear that, although deformed, brings back painful childhood memories of singing Care Bears. Combine that with the slogan, “Kids and grown-ups love it so—the happy world of Haribo,” and you have the foundation for disaster.

But Haribo’s biggest mistake isn’t found in the packaging. It’s in the candy itself—an assortment of gummy creations including everything from Sour S’ghetti to Pontefract Cakes. What follows is a taste of one of their signature concoctions. Warning: This is not for the weak of stomach, at least from now until you get to the website portion of this review.

Happy-Cola
Candy and cola were never meant to be combined. For one thing, one is for hunger; the other for thirst. One is solid and chewy; the other liquid and carbonated.

Nowhere is this rule more apparent than in Haribo Happy-Cola. There are about 40 of these bottle-shaped gummy candies in every bag. Seeing one is enough to ruin your appetite: Something about poop-colored gummy pellets just isn’t right. If you can get past the sight and actually put one in your mouth, you’re braver than most. When you do, you may wonder if it’s actually made of glass. No matter how hard you bite down, you won’t make a dent.

But that’s the least of your concerns. Wait until it hits your taste buds. You may recognize it as something you’ve tasted before—if you’ve ever gone a few days without brushing your teeth. That's right: Eating Happy-Cola is like eating bad breath.

It’s funny. The bag claims that Haribo is “fresh’n chewy.” Happy-cola has the chewiness down; they’re so chewy your jaw aches after just one. But if there’s one thing Happy-Cola is not, it’s fresh. And that’s not even to mention the hours of halitosis belches that are sure to follow.

Planet Haribo
Haribo redeems itself slightly with its website. If you’re looking for a good way to waste an entire afternoon, go to Haribo.com: a world of “games, fun, and terrific prizes to be won.”  You’ll be greeted by the pee-yellow bear and his pale sidekick flying their space machine to Planet Haribo, which looks remarkably like Pluto after a Care Bear vomited on it—presumably after eating some Happy-Cola and making up a stupid rhyme about it.

If there’s anything about Planet Haribo that both kids and grown-ups can enjoy, it’s the game rooms. Without a doubt, the “Wild Wild West” is the best one of the bunch. At the kid-friendly saloon, you can learn how to play blackjack and test your luck on the slots. And if that’s not enough, visit the Wild West Shooting Gallery. You get to practice your shot on bottles of Happy-Cola, which is especially satisfying if you ever tasted it. Even though your teeth couldn’t do it, bottles of Happy-Cola are no match to a loaded pistol.

If you have more time to waste—and don’t feel like you’ve killed enough brain cells in the game rooms—you can make some e-cards for your friends. Or if you’re wanting to learn something from your visit to Haribo, check out the details about the candy. You can find a list of all the Haribo products, along with production and nutrition info.  Even if you don’t like what you’re eating, at least you can find out what it is and how it’s made—though you may regret that decision, too.

Not everything about Haribo is a mistake—only the candy that is the very reason for the company’s existence. At least it boasts a reasonably fun website. The next time you don’t have anything to do (and, seriously, only if you have literally nothing to do), take a trip to Planet Haribo. But do yourself a favor and don’t bring any Happy-Cola along for the ride.