Flashlight in face: “It happened on that fateful night. The sky stretched out, starry, on a new moon. A ghostly glow lay over the firmament. It mirrored the heavens on earth. Darkness and will-o’-the-wisps. The emptiness of the universe. Silence. Grave-like stillness. It was disturbed by the booming bass. Lonely and abandoned in the middle of an industrial zone, it announced itself: A sign of life; a monotonous rhythm — echoing like a heartbeat over the cemetery. Life was being celebrated in the only building for miles around. A mysterious club where Sparklys’ Halloween party was taking place. It was packed to the rafters. The crowd was tearing it up on the dance floor while the DJ heated things up with electro beats. At the bar, the line practically stretched to the dance floor. The boundary between them vanished into the limbo of their blasphemous rites. The evening knew only one drink — Hard Seltzer. The entire occasion was dedicated to Sparklys. Banners were waved; people demonstrated shotguns and similarly infamous techniques, which were publicly reviled, and there was Sparperol — Aperol Spritz with Sparklys — an unholy concoction.
In this forbidden liaison of freak show and catwalk, hellspawn flirted with angels; figures from counter- and pop culture were present: There were witches and wizards. Frankensteins. Mummies. A werewolf or gorilla, or gorilla-wolf-thing from the film Attack the Block — it was hard to tell in the dark. There were ghouls and ghosts; monsters and aliens; ninjas and Ninja Turtles. Two dozen Rhaenyra Targaryens as well as a Hulk, She-Hulk, and They-Hulk; characters from Marvel comics, The Simpsons, Star Wars, and other Disney licenses. The most uncanny part was their lack of originality. Someone brought a Replika as a date and came dressed as a TikToker (pure horror). One showed up as Kung-Fu Winnie the Pooh and an entire group as the incestuous Addams Family. Or was something going on between Fester and Wednesday in the remake? With goblets full of Hard Seltzer, they all toasted All Hallows’ Eve.
Past midnight, Sparklys Elderflower and Passion Fruit foamed in abundance. Greedy hands held money over the bar, or their grabbers took the cans on the conveyor belt of chaos. To the people behind the bar, it looked like a monstrosity from Lovecraft’s stories; or a damn twisted Hindu deity — hundreds of arms writhing above the wood. It groaned under the weight of their bodies. They feared behind the bar that the beast would break through any second. They dismissed this fear as unjustified, which became their undoing. They remained oblivious, blind to the danger, not seeing how quickly the storage rooms were emptying. Not the other stuff that was less popular — beer, wine, and spirits — plenty of that remained — but they were running out of seltzer. The Sparklys, because it was the only Hard Seltzer worth considering.
Too late, they realized they were running out of the juice and the pack was descending into madness. The organizers knew what it meant. Their helicopter was just lifting off, and they looked down at the destruction. As the guests began to tear each other apart. Were they vampires? Zombies? It was becoming increasingly difficult to tell with all the crossovers on Netflix, Prime, and co. None of the fugitives wasted time on theories about what was going for their throats. These creatures were swift; it was reminiscent of a rage virus. They thirsted for the blood and brains of those in whose bloodstream Sparklys still circulated; it tasted good to them — tasted like blood, but subtly alcoholic and at the same time low-calorie and low-sugar; like passion fruit and elderflower; not a trace of vegan. Let the carnage be a lesson to all those who offer Sparklys Hard Seltzer at Halloween parties. Make sure you stock enough of it to carry you through this darkest of all nights.” Cue — wicked laughter: “Muahahaha!”
“Are you brave enough? Are you ready for the unspeakable horror of Sparklys Hard Seltzer? Then dare to place an order in our shop or with our retailers.”
