Energy Drinks: A Vicarious Exploration of Suffering

A comprehensive review of popular energy drinks and their effects

—By Freya Mitchell, Benjamin Seymour, and Imani Ahmad

There is a void in our focus, in our wakefulness, in our lives. Schoolwork mounts, paradoxically deepening the void. We students seek to fill this void with distractions, losing ourselves in our work, and with the incandescent glow of the energy drink aisle. Join us, dear reader, and discover that there is no salvation here. Follow us down to the deepest depths of perdition as we peruse a rogue’s gallery of some of the foulest beverages known to man.

Ghost, Electric Limeade – (Caffeine: 200mg)

The second one opens the can, they find themselves overwhelmed by the distinct aroma of limeade. The drink also tastes strikingly of slightly over-sugared limeade. While the slight aftertaste of sucralose remains after each sip, it does not linger long and strikes a balance between tart, citrus, and sweet—a remarkable feat for a sugar-free drink. U-M student Hanaan Haque notes, “It feels like I’m drinking liquid candy, but I’m not mad at it.” The texture is also unique, with a slight fizziness that evaporates into foam. It leaves the mouth feeling fuzzy and does not encourage another sip. While the flavor is at odds with the riotous color scheme of the can, it still manages to hold its own. It is a perfectly adequate beverage, dearest reader. Perfectly adequate were it not for the fact that the nootropics it boasts of are wildly unregulated and potentially dangerous.

C4, Ruthless Raspberry – (Caffeine: 300mg)

As with wrestling—the sport that sponsors it—the drink boasts an ostensibly robust, complex flavor. Upon closer inspection, however, one breaks through the treacherous facade to reveal the disappointing truth: this drink is nothing more than an ostentatious charlatan. The flavor is sickly sweet, heavily diluted, with the faintest tang of blue raspberry. A fizzy texture masks the dilution and the aspartame, bringing a hint of sourness to the forefront. If one were to gulp the drink, the tower of lies comes crumbling down with the telltale sucralose aftertaste, the lonely whistleblower whispering to turn away before it is too late. This drink cannot fill the void, dear reader.

Rockstar, Fruit Punch – (Caffeine: 300mg)

The can boasts a vibrant color palette that entices unsuspecting passersby to crack one open. The taste itself is quite generic, but not too unappealing considering its poisonous nature. It has a smooth texture with a balanced finish. With its whopping 62 grams of sugar, it can be compared to an infinitely sweeter, hyper-caffeinated Hawaiian Punch. Surely if the flavor is up to snuff, then perhaps we can be done. We have downed three of these scientific abominations, surely we needn’t cause ourselves further suffering? The caffeine effect is far weaker than advertised. A disappointment, but perhaps after this we can lay these weary bones to rest. Soon, yes, soon.

NOS, GT Grape – (Caffeine: 300mg)

The bitterness at the initial sip would cause a wave of revulsion, provided the victim is not already dead inside. The grape flavoring has the sickness-unto-death taste of cough syrup, swallowing the victim as they struggle to swallow the drink. The saccharine candy flavor after the initial foulness seeks to atone for the suffering caused. There is no joy in this drink, no joy in its flavor, no joy in this world. The caffeine rouses the victim, only to drop them further into still blacker despair. Reddit user metalkrakengaming professes, “I hate to be that guy, but all NOS products have a hint of cat piss smell and taste to me.” Perhaps this is what we deserve. But not you, dear reader.

Reign, Sour Gummy Worm – (Caffeine: 300mg)

On the back of the can, countless nutritional and energetic benefits are paraded, painting a picture of energy drink idyll, but we know by now that’s not true. The first sip brings a sharp, tart tang, but levels out into a sweet finish, like a candy gummy bear dissolved and diluted into inevitable impotence. Refreshing, but only just, a tease, a mockery of what a drink should be. Recent college graduate Amina Hafeez professes, “I’m not really a fan of the flavor. Nothing is bad, but there’s just always a better option.” Indeed, the candy color scheme and 300mg caffeine promise neither deliver nor fuel, and the consumer is once again left without a jolt to get them going. You deserve better than this.

Five Hour Energy, Blue Raspberry – (Caffeine: 240mg)

The stomach churns at first sip; the body trembles in disgust. A foul, chemical flavor assaults the tongue, which cowers in the back of the mouth as if trying to flee. The beverage holds hints of plastic with subtle undertones of burning hair. It tastes vaguely of a multivitamin, grainy and crushed up so the taste is spread about. When one gags down their sip, the sickly sweetness of sucralose floods the mouth as if to compensate for the atrocity that had just taken place there. Another gulp and the stomach clenches violently, seeking to exorcize the demon invading the digestive tract. Even well after consumption, mild nausea remains, a consequence of eating the inedible. Avoid at all costs.

Six drinks. Six foul brews to try to fill the void. Some were vomit-inducing, some were virtually tolerable; not one filled its intended purpose. As you leave us, remember, the FDA states that a healthy adult should consume no more than 400 milligrams of caffeine and that energy drinks are largely unregulated. Though the vibrant colors and designs seek to lure one in, remember that such colors in nature often connote toxicity and danger. There is no salvation to be found here, dear reader. Leave the fluorescent lights behind, and leave the cans lined up in their orderly little rows. There is nothing but pain and ennui.

Feature photo: Monster punch can, by Jorge Franganillo on Unsplash