The Catch:

Well, for starters, the architect admitted that the house, situated in Henderson, Nevada, was only "90 percent normal," with concrete and plywood floors.

So, yeah, they accidentally reenacted this episode.

Also, although the interior of the house had been decked out in a loving re-creation of the titular family's home -- including the iconic couch, a fridge stuffed with Duff beer, the eerie feeling that you're being watched by millions of unseen people, etc. -- all of that attention to detail had to go, because "furnishings do not convey." After all, what Simpsons fan would want to keep Simpsons stuff in their Simpsons house?

via cubebreaker.com

Not only would the distinctive interior be stripped barren, but winners were "contractually required to paint over the cartoon-like colors on the exterior of the house" to appease the local homeowners' association. It's a little like winning the Batcave and then finding out it's in the process of being turned into a Starbucks.

Scott Jones/Wiki Commons

Not surprisingly, the winner decided to take the $75,000 alternate prize rather than uproot her life and move to Nevada to occupy a beige shell of a real house.

According to the winner, the brakes and steering wheel worked, but everything that would actually make the car run had been gutted. Hoping to put the prop to some use, the winner intended to display the car at some local festivals, but was forced to sign a contract stating he wouldn't exhibit the car for money. At one point he lent it to a museum, where someone who may or may not have been working for the Penguin stole the shift lever.

It turns out that the Batmobile was basically like some kind of cursed monkey's paw that turned everything it touched to shit. Since the Batmobile was basically a stylishly designed, oversized paperweight, the contest winner used the prize money to purchase a motorcycle -- which he wrecked within a few years. Also, the car was taxable, which led to an audit from the IRS, the League of Assassins of government agencies.

Eventually, he had to sell the Batmobile for "not a lot of money" because he couldn't afford the $10,000 insurance premium. Yeah, there's a reason only a millionaire could be Batman.

Similarly, in the '90s, Nintendo Power magazine held a contest to appear in the next Jim Carrey masterpiece: The Mask 2. In hindsight, Nintendo Power may have jumped the Zapper Light Gun in offering a role for a movie that wasn't 100 percent locked down. While everyone waited to see if Carrey even wanted to put on all that fucking makeup again, the kid who won the contest was sent some video games and a crew jacket for The Mask 2 -- which at that moment was seemingly composed entirely of a title and some crew jackets.

Nintendo

Since the movie never happened (or, more accurately, slowly devolved into a Jamie Kennedy vehicle), the winner was eventually given 5 grand and a public apology in lieu of his prize, aka the same things that should be given to everyone who watched Son Of The Mask.

One movie that sure as hell happened: Masters Of The Universe, which successfully gave away a part to an 8-year-old boy.

MOTU Movie

But who did they cast this adorable bright-eyed young lad as? Fucking "Pigboy." Yeah, good luck bragging to your friends about how you're in the new He-Man movie (that looks nothing like a He-Man movie) when your big role is as Skeletor's pig-faced slave. His family seemed pretty proud, though.

MOTU Movie

Winning a pig-faced role also meant that the poor kid had to have extensive prosthetics applied. And since this movie was made by the cheap-asses at Cannon Films, who probably bought their face-glue out of the back of a tinted van, his skin felt like it was "on fire for days" afterward. His role was also cut down to the point that he missed his own cameo at the premiere party Mattel threw for him. We're sure the experience was still worth probably being called "Pigboy" all the way to college, though.

The house was painted pink to tie-in with Mellencamp's song "Pink Houses," and would be officially christened at a raging party in which Mellencamp himself would perform. Sleeves optional.

The Catch:

Well, for starters, the house was less of a house and more of a "shack," probably more ideal for penning an anti-government manifesto than staging a kick-ass party. Also, looking to spend as little as possible on this Party Shack, MTV bought the property for just 20 grand -- a good deal, except for the fact that it was next to one of the country's worst toxic waste dumps.

Lakeland Ledger

Mellencamp found out about MTV's cost-cutting and understandably lost his shit (probably because he didn't want to think that the pink houses of his song were steeped in toxic waste). He insisted MTV find another house to paint pink, hopefully one with no glaringly obvious environmental hazards. Even after all of that effort, the contest winner still decided to sell the house one day after the televised shindig, presumably disappointed that he didn't develop the mutant powers he'd been expecting.

The Catch:

Red Bull provided the hotel and flight, but they never specified which country each would be in. The two lucky "VIPs" were flown into Germany (which you might recognize as "not Belgium," despite Germany's best efforts), then had to make their own travel arrangements to the promised four-star hotel ... which was in the fucking Netherlands. Oh, and despite requesting twin beds, the contest winner was forced to share a bed with his brother -- forced incestuous bedding likely being what cost them that extra star.

Since, like Germany, the Netherlands is distinctly not in Belgium, the winner was once again forced to hastily make their own travel plans (presumably while also being annoyed by, but ultimately befriending, John Candy) to get to the damn Grand Prix.

Daily Mail

If all that wasn't enough of a shit sandwich of a vacation, the scheduling of the return flight meant that they had to drag their luggage to the event and leave before the race was over. The whole contest was such a clusterfuck, the winner filed a complaint with the U.K.'s Advertising Standards Authority -- who upheld most of the complaints, but stopped short of pointing out that the trip was about as fun as ingesting a Red Bull.