Hello, my name is Rutherford Q. Starbucks and I am the founder of Starbucks.
When an employee first came to me with the Unicorn Frappuccino idea I told him no. I gave you all the benefit of the doubt. I told him, we here at Starbucks, we respect our customers and they respect us. Our mission is to provide our customers a delicious, caffeinated beverage to complement their day.
I explained to him that our mission is not to fill a cup of rainbow colored, unnecessarily sugary bullshit and sell it to our customers for five dollars. I told him our customers are smarter than that. They won’t buy it. I believed in you. But he insisted.
So, we tested it out at one location, against my better judgment.
And you know what? It sold like fucking crazy. We sold so much of this unicorn drink that I had no choice but to make it a country-wide menu option.
What in God’s name is wrong with you people? Holy Mary, mother of God, what is wrong with you?
What in God’s name is wrong with you people?
I started Starbucks with a simple mission: to sell normal coffee at an alarmingly more expensive price than at other coffee shops. I succeeded. But now? I don’t even know who I am. I have grown cynical with the success of the horrid unicorn drink. Is there even caffeine in this thing? I don’t know. I don’t care. And neither do you. You will buy it and you will drink it. And you will love it. Why? Because we said you would.
Do you know how much it costs us to make a Unicorn Frappunccino? Nothing. It costs us zero dollars. It is Splenda and ice and dye. I know I can’t believe it either.
Our baristas are begging you not to buy this monstrosity. It has made their lives hell. “It takes 45 minutes to make,” they say. “It doesn’t even taste good,” they say. Do you listen? No.
You hogs. You wild, wild hogs.
I wake up every morning on a bed made out of money. I mean that literally. Instead of feathers or cotton, it’s cushioned with stacks of 100 dollar bills. It is NOT comfortable and I do NOT sleep well, but I do it because I can. Because capitalism is thriving.
You are all ants and I am a boy with a magnifying glass, gone mad with power.
You make me sick. And so does the unicorn water that I sell for $5 an ounce.
Every Unicorn Frappuccino you buy funds another (solid gold) hot tub in my (huge) backyard. Do I need it? No. Will I ever use it? Of course not.
This weekend I am buying an island. I have no intention of ever stepping foot on it. But I have the means to do it and I will.
I hope you all enjoy the Unicorn Frappuccino that causes nothing but pain for every single person who touches it. It has broken me, as a businessman and as a lover of coffee.
Please buy our new Vomit Latte. It tastes like real vomit and it’s $17.