Sometimes I wonder if I’m the only person who finds the cartoon characters designed to hawk medications repulsive and disturbing. What’s worse about these animated spokesmen is that they’re inflicted on us during the most inopportune time of the day – dinnertime. Let’s review:
Digger the Dermatophyte: I’ve often expressed my disgust with this offensive parasite who takes great pains to let us know that he can only be eliminated by months of prescription drug treatment. Especially gruesome is when he begins energetically digging down into the healthy pink tissue under his victim’s nailbed, immediately turning it a sickly yellow. Digger has really nasty, fleshy lips and Gollum-like fingers, making him the #1 most disgusting animated commercial character ever.
The Mucinex Mucous Blob: The only thing worse than Digger is this fat, odious green ball of snot and his Family of Phlegm. After infiltrating their unsuspecting victim, Mucous family moves in all their furniture (and a karoke machine) and prepares to raise a whole family on the previously healthy bronchi of the host human. Only Mucinex, Mr. Mucous’ nemesis can save the patient, and only by coughing up these distasteful balls of green slime, where they’ll probably immediately take up residence in the next available human. This commercial always comes on just when I’m about to start my dinner. Makes you want to hock a giant one.
The Nasonex Bee: This sad-eyed bumblebee with the badly affected Maurice Chevalier accent gives new meaning to the phrase “Annoying Seasonal Allergies.” But the thing that really creeps me out about the bee is the fact that he sounds freakishly like my ex-husband when he gives his spiel: “Hello my flower. Nasonex to the rescue!” Frankly, it took a lot of work to get my bastard ex-husband out of the house and I don’t like it when my peace is invaded by this bizarro version of him.
The Lunesta flying neon bug:
It’s a Luna moth.
Frankly, I don’t like the idea of some prehistoric looking moth flying around my bedroom while I’m sleeping; I’d be afraid of this thing landing on my face and sucking the breath right out of my body. My mother has a particular aversion to the Lunesta bug, frequently stating “I wouldn’t want a flying nightlight. That’s scary.”
I’ll be glad when this ghastly commercial trend has played out so I can once again look forward to eating my dinner in front of the TV and only be bombarded by erectile dysfunction and bladder control ads that promise its users they will most definitely experience diarrhea as one of their many side effects.