Come on, who doesn’t like pizza? I love it. Deep dish, tavern, New York, Detroit, Hawaiian, Hut, or Tombstone, it doesn’t matter the style. Pizza is delicious, exhausts the food guide pyramid, and can be eaten without utensils. Pizza brings people together. It heals wounds. It sparks romance. So why include it here? Quite simply, if I want a meal, I’ll go to a restaurant. I don’t want to feel logy at the movies. I paid to see Chris Hemsworth’s pecs on the big screen. I want to be awake for them.

Similar to pizza, I like Starburst. The flavor variety is great, it’s chewy without being exhausting, and hits the sweet spot just right. However, when I’m at the movies, I don’t want to have to open a wrapper just to open another wrapper. I want to watch the movie, not look at the thing I’m trying to eat. And God help me if I accidentally eat a piece of wax paper I failed to completely remove. Now some might point to the newer unwrapped mini Starburst as an alternative. I don’t trust them. Science doesn’t move that quickly. I need to see peer-reviewed macro data proving their worthiness as a movie theater candy.

Nachos are delicious. I don’t need to prove this to anyone. Give me unnaturally yellow tortilla chips along with golden cheese-flavored sauce all day long. The crunch, the goo, you can’t beat it – anywhere other than a movie theater. While eating Starburst prevents you from seeing Chris Hemsworth’s pecs. nachos prevent you from hearing his pecs pop. One or more Melissa’s have accused me of being a loud chip eater. Or they may have accused me, as there’s a chance I simply didn’t hear over my chip eating. Furthermore, I don’t mind wearing a little butter-flavored topping after eating movie theater popcorn. I do mind wearing gobs of cheese-flavored sauce or leaving a trail behind me when leaving the theater.

Let the controversy begin! I get weirded out by cola. What is it? Most soft drinks advertise their flavor. Sprite is lemon-lime. Fanta is orange. Root beer is root. Welch’s Grape is purple. You don’t get that with cola. What’s it hiding? According to Luke Field’s piece at sporked.com, cola’s main flavor ingredients are, “vanilla and cinnamon, followed by some kind of citrus oil like orange, lime, or lemon.” Cola starts as a different soda, then doused with other ingredients to give it a caramel appearance until you’re basically drinking carbonated brown. If I want to consume heaping amounts of brown, I’ll wait until Thanksgiving.

Like most of the aforementioned, I enjoy a big chewy pretzel in most settings. Baseball game? Big chewy pretzel. Circus? Big chewy pretzel. Touring a pretzel factory? Big chewy pretzel. The one place I don’t want a big chewy pretzel is the movies. Similar to pizza, it’s just too much to consume while remaining attentive to a motion picture. While not a full meal like pizza, big chewy pretzels pack at least four figures worth of calories in each bite. Pair that with cushiony recliners in a dark room and you’ll be asleep within ten minutes. Although I can dream of Chris Hemsworth’s abs, I’d like to see them too.

While some claim their palettes detect a difference between Twizzlers and Red Vines, common sense says they both just taste like red. Again, red licorice isn’t bad. It’s just dull. It’s candied sameness. If I want to stare into the abyss with Judge Judy on as background noise, give me a bag of Twizzlers. If I’m watching Daniel Day Lewis beat Paul Dano with a bowling pin, I need something with a little more spice.

Let me be clear. As stated in my best movie theater snacks list, raisins as stand-alone snacks are turds defecated by Satan himself. However, when covered in milk chocolate, they magically transmute into a superior movie theater snack. Dark chocolate Raisinets, on the other hand, not only retain their turd qualities, but have been left in the sun to rot. Eating a dark chocolate Rainsinet is akin to the time I watched a silverback gorilla eliminate its bowels into its own hand just to eat it. It’s a perpetual motion machine.

Dots are just plain weird. Not quite gummies and not quite gum drops, Dots exist somewhere beyond the Periodic Table of Elements. Their makeup gives quantum physicists fits. Created by Tootsie in the Fermilab particle accelerator, no one knows how or why Dots. Carl Sagan’s Cosmos was originally titled Dots.

Typically associated with carnivals, cotton candy has recently worked its way into movie theaters. I say thee NAY! Whether in a sealed bag or a plastic bucket, cotton candy is as much cotton as string cheese is string. A more appropriate name would be wadded sugar. Additionally, it’s unwieldy to eat and gets everywhere. If I wanted to be sticky in a movie theater, I’d move to 1970’s Times Square.

ABOMINATION! Disavowed by the Vatican, the original script for 1973’s The Exorcist had Regan projectile vomiting Good & Plenty instead of split pea soup. Unsafe for human consumption unless blessed with holy water and dipped in pure silver, Good & Plenty was first referenced in Dante’s Inferno. Furthermore, Good & Plenty looks like they were crafted by Walter White in a middle school science lab. Black licorice has no place in polite company, let alone a movie theater, making Good & Plenty the worst movie theater snack.