If Flamin’ Hot Mountain Dew is the future then leave me here

Flamin’ Hot Mountain Dew has all the allure of a quick dip in a lava pool – and the integrity of a desperate Wall Street broker. Yet here we are in 2021, watching as apocalypse rides in on a sickeningly artificial, red-hot dust storm of Cheetos essence.

If it’s a race to the bottom then let it be known: Flamin’ Hot Mountain Dew, and all those who share responsibility for its conception, are in pole position. It’s the latest example of ‘no one asked for this’, yet the saddest thing is that it’s probably bound to succeed.

Reportedly, and rather unsurprisingly it must be said, Flamin’ Hot Mountain Dew is the unholy union of sweet citrus tang and spicy heat. Or as one marketing guru puts it, “This is one of our most provocative beverages yet, and we’re excited for DEW Nation to taste the unique blend of spicy and classic sweet citrus flavor of MTN DEW.”

flamin' hot mountain dew
Image: Flamin’ Hot Mountain Dew / Pepsico

Provocative is one way to describe what’s going on, but I’m not convinced a soda beverage needs to be such a thing. This isn’t fine art or the latest Lars Von Trier film. Although Andy Warhol might well have had some choice words regarding the outrageously flamboyant can. Shit makes Monster cans look positively subtle.

Speaking of which, there are also plans to release a Flamin’ Hot Mountain Dew tracksuit; because apparently members of the mystical ‘DEW Nation’ need to be able to identify each other from kilometers away.


View this post on Instagram


A post shared by Broken Promises Co. (@brokenpromisesco)

Now before the ‘DEW Nation’ comes at me I should probably confess that I haven’t actually tried this morbid concoction. It isn’t available until the end of August, when it will launch exclusively on the DEW Store. Currently, it looks like it might take some time for Flamin’ Hot Mountain Dew to find its way to Australian shores, which I guess is a small reprieve.

However, where there is a will there is a way and I know it’s only a matter of time until I must contend with the inevitable. I just ask that the tracksuits remain where they belong: the hellish sauna of someone’s ‘gaming den’ in the Missouri.