Most celebrity commercial cameos are pretty bare bones: a famous person shows up, talks about how awesome a product is, and leaves. They look cool, the product looks cool, and everybody's bank account looks especially cool.
Then there are these ads, the ones where cool didn't even go to die, because cool wasn't allowed within 500 feet of the studio. Products and celebrities alike looked like goddamn fools, and if the directors have ever worked again outside of backup night clerk at the local 7-Eleven, then the system has officially failed and the Illuminati should just obliterate us all and start again. Hopefully Society Part Deux will feature fewer terrible ideas like ...
5Sprite: Pro Wrestler Sting Beats a Little Boy Half to Death
Via WCW, Inc.
From the world's #1 absolutely-nothing-else-is-available settlement soft drink comes one of the most extreme '90s things in extreme '90s history.
Little Timmy answers his door to find Sting, pro wrestling legend and The Crow cosplayer extraordinaire. Sting's part of the Dream Come True Fantasy Foundation, aka Make-a-Wish for spoiled brats who don't let minor details like not being sick get in the way of getting their way. Timmy wants to wrestle a pro and, since the Rock was too busy Hollywood A-listing, he gets Sting.
Turns out he also got a pure sadist. Timmy takes a quick swig of Sprite, and Sting reacts by sucker-punching the poor child. He then proceeds to beat the ever-loving shit out of him. He throws him into glass doors ...
"It's OK, we have property insurance."
... violently slams his head into a nearby bannister, easily concussing the wee tyke in the process ...
And he worked hard for that D average. Thanks a bunch, Stinger.
... and slides him across the fireplace mantel like a desperado in an old-timey saloon, breaking plates all over Timmy's busted little body and covering his face with enough splinters to guarantee a lucrative future as Li'l Pinhead.
Timmy refused to pick up his toys the easy way.
No headlocks or armbars need apply -- this is 100 percent assault, not that anybody notices. The whole time, Timmy's parents just stand there like imbeciles, thoroughly enjoying the show (with Mom even whispering to Dad, "It looks so real"). They're about to drown under a continent-size batch of medical bills at best, bury their own child at worst, and it's too bad Sprite never filmed a sequel where the parents finally figure this shit out.
All of this has fucking squat to do with Sprite. Timmy's initial theory that "flavorless goop = Popeye-esque power source" proved futile because -- narrator's words -- Sprite can't "do anything but help quench your thirst." I hope Timmy kept that in mind during his horrible ordeal: "My lungs are seeping out my penis and my brain's bleeding out my nose, but at least my throat is decidedly unparched."
4T-Mobile Czech: Chuck Norris Faints
Jeff Golden/Getty Images Entertainment/Getty Images
Fuck the Meme That Wouldn't Die -- Chuck Norris is a real-life, non-superpowered badass ... which makes the ad he did for the Czech Republic branch of T-Mobile all the more puzzling.
There's no setup -- just Chuck Norris in a house with a very pleasant-looking Czech woman about to cook dinner. Either Chuck is an incredibly old exchange student helping his host mom out in the kitchen, or he's simply studying up for some shitball tax write-off that'll help him pay the mortgage without dipping into his 75th Solid Gold Cadillac Fund.
Whichever it is, he's about to learn how to cook a fish old country-style. Step 1: Instead of waiting for Big Mouth Billy to gasp his final gasp, or simply beheading, scaling, and gutting the slimy little guy until chewable, this gal chooses to bonk it over the head with a giant mallet.
"Would you like to do the honors, or are you an incredible pussy?"
Surprisingly, Ultimate Alpha Male Norris objects to bashing the poor fishie's barely existent brains in, and yet his cruel mother/co-star/captor insists on carrying out the bludgeoning. So Chuck does what comes naturally: He faints. No joke here -- his eyes roll to the back of his head like he's a sarcastic teenager and he collapses in a heap, no more an ass-kicker than a swooning fairy tale princess encountering a giant fire-breathing serpent.
If she had done it with a spin kick, he probably would've been cool with it.
When he finally wakes up, he finds Mrs. Roly-Poly Squish Head and her husband/co-captor lording over him. Mr. RPSH jokes, via the power of YouTube Captioning, that nobody on TV's really badass, because it isn't like Chuck Norris is a legitimate 10th-degree black belt or anything.
The narrator then mentions T-Mobile's "badass" new satellite TV service, the first and only time we're afforded any clue as to what this commercial is about. It could have been an ad for Jaroslav's Oversized Cartoon Mallets, for all we knew. And "Chuck Norris isn't badass, unlike our satellite service" is such a forced stretch of premise, even the most dedicated false flag conspiracy nut would laugh it off and tell the writer to go outside for once.
"Look who's finally awake! Do you need your Pull-Ups changed, big guy?"