Imagine asking someone for a little help with something, and they kindly agree to help you out. But rather than helping you, they just destroy all of your hopes and dreams instead. That's exactly what Mr. Owl does in the Tootsie Roll Pop commercial from my childhood. The kid goes out, seeking wisdom from his elders. Mr. Turtle is no help because he's 1,000 years old. I get it. I don't blame him at all. He's like, "I would help you, but I have no teeth and Matlock is on in 20 minutes. Why don't you go ask Mr. Owl instead? He's always claiming he's so smart. He wears that graduation cap all over the place like he's some kind of genius. I'm sure he can help you."
The poor kid is down on his luck to begin with. He has no body. He's all head and ass. No wonder he's looking for a little help.
The kid has a weird haircut and a set of balls growing out of the back of his neck, but he's still out there, just trying to figure out one of the world's greatest mysteries. And what does Mr. Owl do?? He rips the lollipop out of the kids hands without even asking for it, licks it three times, and then shoves the rest of it in his stupid little beak. And he throws the wrapper on the ground because he doesn't care about the world or pollution or basic common courtesy. He doesn't even answer the question at all. Then he hands the lollipop stick back to the kid.
The kid does his best to not ball his eyes out even though some know-it-all bully just stole his candy:
Look at him. Heartbroken. He just looks at what used to be his delicious Tootsie Roll Pop and tries his best to hold back the tears. All while Mr. Owl sits up on his perch like he just did the kid some big favor.
One of these days, that kid is gonna grow up to have a torso and maybe even get surgery to have the testicles on the back of his neck removed. And he's gonna go up to Mr. Owl, knock that hat off his head, and take that stick and shove it right where the sun don't shine. And when he does it, he's gonna hold it up there and count to three. "One. Two-oo. Three." Then he'll pull it out and ask Mr. Owl if he wants a lick. Something tells me he won't be so eager to go chomping on it anymore. Punk.
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