Teamworking Day: Double Red Lucky 🌭

Brockway: There was something magical about the back pages of old comic books, where you could buy several superpowers, a feral monkey, or WOW! A REAL WORKING SUBMARINE! Somehow we lost our way and started demanding accountability from our child grifters, and a little of the magical insanity that made life worth living just faded away. Double Red Lucky is still running those classic comic book scams, only now it’s for adults whose lives are a Denny’s dumpster. You send Double Red Lucky $20, and four to six weeks later, they’ll send you brine shrimp with a gambling addiction.

Today, we will be reviewing consumer spells for idiot grandmas.

Seanbaby: Oh, hell yeah. We’re doing bingo cologne? This is dumb as fuck. This is a kind of dumb that should have gone extinct before we had a name for hot circle in sky. If you showed me Don Dinero Mr. Money while I was burning a witch I’d say, “Ha ha are you trying to sell me lottery lotion? Here? In this age of science?”

Brockway: Mr. Money, like all the best colognes, is a bright green gel. Like all the best colognes, it has a first name, a last name, and a mustache. It has a girlfriend. This scent doesn’t make you more attractive to the opposite sex. It makes you more attractive to money. A 50 dollar bill takes one whiff of you, and Ulysses S. Grant slides his grainy green panties off and dances into your bedroom like an A-ha video.

But maybe a few dabs of industrial lyme dissolver on the pulse points isn’t enough magic for you…

Seanbaby: What the fuck.

Brockway: Pay Me Now Bath & Floor Wash, like all the best bodywashes, is also Lysol. I’m sure there’s some bullshit pH balancing or whatever that separates a good skin soap from a good floor bleach, but Lush doesn’t collect on your debts. Whether it’s magically breaking the knees of your debtors, or physically breaking the knees of anyone who walks on your slippery cursed floor, Pay Me Now Bath & Floor Wash only makes one promise, and it’s not mercy.

Seanbaby: A floor cleaner that is also a bath wash that is also a collections soap that also se habla Espaňol is something a Saturday Night Live writer would get fired for in 1975. Dan Aykroyd would look them right in the face and say, “Get the hell out of this studio before the UFOs find out we know about the bath wash.”

Brockway: Sean, this is where we’re starting. This is where we’re starting.

Brockway: If washing your floor with debt collecting soap doesn’t solve your money woes, you might have to, I don’t know, get a job. But good luck with the economy these days, have you heard of this? Have you guys heard about this economy thing? John Keynes took one look at this economy and said “I’ll take the Compact!” Jazz band, saxophones, tie adjustment.

Seanbaby: Maybe I’m drinking the wrong job shampoo, but I have no idea what’s going on.

Brockway: Sorry, I think my new Great Comedy Toothpaste & Car Wax is broken. Anyway, if finding a job seems impossible, try bathing in Job/Steady Work Bath & Floor Wash. Yes, simply “bathe daily before you go to work. This will allegedly bring positive energy to your life.” And you too could not be fired from your job. Wow! Employers hate this one simple trick.

Seanbaby: This is such sheepish magic. This could have been PROMOTION/GOOD PROMOTION floor cleaner & bath wash, but no, it’s merely DON’T LOSE JOB gel. It even uses the word “allegedly” in the copy. Yeah, we already knew it was “allegedly.” No one thought you got FDA approval for job sorcery bleach. Is it sarcasm? Because it’s exactly what I would type if it was my job to market KEEP JOB soap and you just fired me.

Brockway: So your boss didn’t love that you started bathing in Bolivian stain remover. Things are looking dire. You’re going to need a little help, and that means a loan. And that means, what? Getting your finances in order and working on your proposal? No. It means mystical powders, idiot. See, this kind of in-the-box thinking is why you’re not getting ahead. Steve didn’t get laid off, you got laid off. You know why? Powders.

Seanbaby: So would you call this bank anthrax or mortgage aspirin?

Brockway: Let’s split the difference. I don’t actually know any more about it, this is the entire product description. I didn’t cut it short. “Use the powder to get a loan.” How? Do you sprinkle it in your underwear like talc? Do you snort it? Do you force the banker to snort it?

Seanbaby: I think the Spanish part is the instructions. During your meeting with the loan officer, you fill the room with POLVO MISTICO, grab as much money as you can, and EXITO LOS fucking NEGOCIOS. But this one’s stupid. Any bank built after 1985 has ninja alarms and loan powder sniffing dogs. This only works if you get it inside the banker, and you know what that means. Break out the sex mission soap. Do they sell a sex mission soap (sopa de misión fuck)?

Seanbaby: Close enough.

Brockway: So you tackled the Loan Officer, held his mouth shut, and funneled what turned out to be mostly drywall into his sinuses. You’re looking at lengthy jail time. You know what you need? No, not a lawyer and a therapist who specializes in website mysticism. You just need to smell like innocence. Sorry, that’s usually the last thing you hear before an involuntary van ride.

Seanbaby: It’s nuts how criminals have a right to an attorney but not court case perfume. They should have to rub this on you as part of your Miranda rights.

Brockway: Sure, but then the cops just start washing the police station steps with Good Conviction/Plant Evidence Aftershave & Court Wash and now we’re in a judicial arms race.

So you’ve filled every orifice of your home and body with mystery chemicals from an internet sorcerer, but you’re still under arrest. You know what the problem is? Volume: You’re buying one spell at a time when you need to be shotgun blasting your life with gambling magic. Plus there haven’t been any reviews on the products so far, so maybe it’s just you. Let’s see how other customers feel:

Brockway: “I’ve tried it for two straight years and it hasn’t worked once, so it’s gonna be three stars from me. Nothing in my life has ever worked, so it’s actually average.”

Seanbaby: “Rough hands pulled me to a back room of the casino. I was thrown into a chair before a truck of a man named Dickbreaker Tony. ‘Pretty lucky out there tonight,’ he said. ‘A little too lucky. But I love a good luck story. Tell you what: I’m going to take a look in your bag. I don’t see any Gambler’s Soap, you’re free to go, lucky guy.’ He found my Gambler’s Soap and broke both my legs. Three stars.”

Brockway: Let’s try a different ensorcellment grab bag. This time, Extra Strength! It’s frankly stupid that there’s any strength but extra. As though there are customers looking at this and laughing “oh no, I don’t need TOO MUCH wealth. Just money back on gas station scratchers for me, thanks.”

Brockway: Poor Amelia Williams. Her life is going so poorly that she tried bulk industrial strength voodoo from a grifting distributor and it went so wrong she felt the need to publicly admit it with her first and last name attached. No joke, I’m sorry for bringing this up. It’s too sad to laugh at.

Seanbaby: I wonder how many times Amelia lubed up her hands and lost at bingo before she realized she was sold a bag of fake magic rocks. Does she think she’s helping us with this? This is like fucking five chickens and writing a book called A Girlboss Guide to Dating: How to Know When Your Man is Actually Four Birds and a Space Bird.

Brockway: Ha ha, Space Bird’s such a cad. I can’t believe he’s still telling women he’s from space.

Double Red Lucky also sells region specific luck spells for bespoke dopes. This one’s a digit card, where they sell the concept of 179 to you. Don’t use that unless you paid for it, it’s proprietary.

Brockway: Irma P. Royall knows better than to give internet warlocks the number of a real credit card, but not her and her husband’s full name and a short list of their most exploitable fears. “My name is Irma P. Royall and I have put this charge on my Target Circle card in honor of my dog, whose name is Pay Me Now Dog & Floor Wash. I worry about the increasing obsolescence of age. Five stars.”

Seanbaby: “I decree by the Sovereign Nation of Mrs. Kenneth R. Royall and the lucky number 4338 that no swindling or chicanery may be done to my credit card, I hereby click to checkout, Amen.” Robert, I know it took us four years to find it, but this is absolutely the maximum amount of crazy there will ever be. A five star review for a list of North Carolina’s best numbers by a woman who left her payment information in the comments? That’s it. Mark today on your magic lottery number calendar– we have reached the summit of idiot madness, I stake my life on it.

Brockway: I’ll take that bet.

I know what you’re thinking: “I love being magically exploited, but I’m black and all these spells are for latinos and honkeys. Our money fibers are different, and I need wizardry specifically targeted for my body. Where is the gambling grimoire for me?”

Seanbaby: Oh no. In my hubris I forgot about racism.

Brockway: Bonus! Egyptian Addition! Add like the Pharaohs of old, notorious for their numbers racket. Why do you think we call it a pyramid scheme?

Seanbaby: If I was picking the clipart for a book of “African American” parlor games, I wouldn’t have gone with landlord_convicted_of_illegal_housing_discrimination.png.

Brockway: Black people love Billy Bing! As much as they admire and envy Ancient Egyptian mathematicians.

Let’s check the closeout section for some bargain basement spells.

Brockway: Let’s stop checking the closeout section for bargain basement spells.

Seanbaby: “Posted by Jeff Toilet on 17th March 2012:

won the lottery but product wasn’t what i expected. Two stars.”

Brockway: Double Red Lucky also sells a variety of enchanted waters, whose ingredients include “water” and “end of list.” I guess that’s for the discerning consumer who doesn’t want to bathe in chemicals, but does have a variant form of Williams Syndrome for online gaming shamans. I don’t know, maybe these work better by virtue of being less. Let’s check the reviews:

Brockway: Oh, Amelia. Oh no.

Seanbaby: “I do it all it say do,” she claims. The fuck you did, Amelia. You can’t mix MONEY DRAWING SPIRITUAL WATER with Extra Strong Power Mojo Bag. That’s like pouring fortune cookies into a diesel engine. It’s like using a North Carolina lottery foot powder in a South Carolina slot machine. Amelia, this is how you spawn a 73 cent piece begging for someone to kill it.

Brockway: We have to get away from the desperate exploitation of lottery rubes. It’s getting too real. What products are there for us, the savvy customer who hates money but loves warfare?

Brockway: WAR WATER sounds like some kind of canned water marketed to exploit masculine insecurity. That’s ridiculous, I’m sorry for making that up. It could never exist.

Seanbaby: “Posted by Navajny Vasilyev on 10th Aug 2017

is polonium and nerve agent, make sure wear gloves and alibi. Three stars.”

Brockway: This is so pathetic. Picture it: My worst enemy opens her door one night to find me out there, secretly sprinkling black liquid on her Bless This Mess doormat. She sees the label, the crudely drawn soldier, the tagline “CONQUER with POWER!” She instantly knows she has defeated me, now and forever. I would have no choice but to submit and start paying my HOA fees.

Seanbaby: Yeah, this sucks. I’m supposed to use an entire turn to give a slight debuff to an enemy? I already know I’ll never use this. I have beaten eighteen Final Fantasy games with 99 of this exact product left in my inventory.

Brockway: Wait! It might be too late to defeat the final form of HOA Board Treasurer Doris Woolworthy, but we can still win her respect, and what’s the best way to do that? No, not baking. No, it’s not taking down the life-size Shaq cutout on the front lawn. No, it’s not even joining her in badmouthing the immigrant family across the street. I’m talking about pepper. Authority pepper!

Brockway: What a fucking beast of a product description. That’s all of it. No instructions for use, no ingredient list, not even a measurement of volume. You could be getting a single grain of this, or 600 pounds of it. If not knowing any of those answers bothers you, maybe you’re not emotionally ready to command your neighbors like Chief Pepper. No, look closely: there’s really a Chief Pepper.

Seanbaby: WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU READING? A REAL PEPPER WIZARD WOULDN’T HAVE ANY QUESTIONS.

Brockway: Double Red Lucky also sells jewelry! That’s almost a relief. You’ll certainly get a metal rash from it, but I think that’s the most minor poisoning available at the consumer level. I wonder if the magic is as strong, though. True voodoo demands sacrifice, some of the enchantment might come from the poisoning itself. Let’s check the reviews:

Seanbaby: ha ha ha holy shit. Amazing. Amazing.

Brockway: Rule of threes. Even naked despair comes back to funny again.

Seanbaby: Amelia is the worst magician I’ve ever seen and I watched The Amazing Jeff Toilet grope my big brother at his 10th birthday party. Two stars.

Brockway: Life isn’t all about money. Sometimes it’s about fuckin’.

Seanbaby: I’m listening.

Brockway: Have I got just the disembodied genitals for you!

Brockway: Those are the complete instructions, but you need to trust me on this: The most important step, not listed here, is to hide the candle afterward. There is no sorcery on earth strong enough to keep a woman in your apartment if she walks in to find a burning red pussy effigy with her name on it.

Seanbaby: Um, thanks, but I think I can find my way around a plastic vagina without your help, Instructions.

Brockway: Our next product is a black penis candle. Guess what that’s for.

Seanbaby: Too late, I figured it out on my own and my holes have already won over $70,000 each.

Brockway: Why the fuck are you selling me Battle Water and Respect Pepper when I could be candle cursing my enemies with worm dick? I mean, I guess it wouldn’t work on Doris, but I guarantee you a few weeks without Stanley giving it to her on the regular and I’ll have to peel her off that Shaq cut-out.

Seanbaby: I have a few questions for the manufacturer. First; does it affect all boners in a radius, or is there a way to aim it? Two; can you get it wet? Or let me ask in a different way: I got my Black Penis very wet. I know this is good news for my enemy’s dick, but… how good? And finally, you know I’m putting this in the vagina candle, right? And finally two, this is more of a comment than a question, but I do it all it say do, five stars.

Brockway: This has all been amateur spellwork. Beginner kits for novices dipping their toes into victimhood. If you want to be a professional mark, I mean a real, true, seasoned rube – you need to buy your own ingredients and cast your own spells. For that, something needs to die.

Brockway: You know, the ol’ lucky alligator foot. Alligators, the rabbits of Florida. When Bill sees you hit big on the ponies and asks your secret, slip this desiccated reptile claw from its special oily bag and boom! You never have to talk to Bill again. Now: pre-withered!

Seanbaby: Bayou mathematicians have known about the probability reaping power of gator remains for centuries. It’s famously why you can only bring 3 ounces of alligator corpse or less to the dog track.

Brockway: Gator mummies are sexy. New. They’re for the kids. The Gator Generation, we call them. Us old timers know you can’t beat the classics, and that means one thing:

Seanbaby: I’m troubled that instead of “artificial,” it says “Not of Primate origin.” So it did come from something living, but nothing close to monkey. The instructions probably say, “Your Monkey* Paw might have fingerprint ink and an evidence tag on it, don’t worry about it. Keep your mouth shut; we just need you to hold onto Monkey* Paw until things cool down.”

Brockway: It is kind of bullshit that it’s not real monkey. I’m sure the vegan hex market has come a long way, but I’m not here for jackfruit monkey spells. Unless something very close to a tiny human is dismembered, I’m not risking it. The last time I tried to mystically rawdog Bingo Night, Doris called me a flimsy dauber and the laugh it got was devastating.

Seanbaby: You know, people complain about how search engines are getting worse, but when I asked Bing if Monkey Paw* was compatible with Vagina Gender Candle I got so many results.

Brockway: I know what you’re thinking: I love the idea of juicing a monkey for fun and profit, but isn’t there any way my house and skin can smell like it?

Brockway: Extra strong means twice the monkey! I’m no primatologist, but I do know that if you took a bath in this stuff and went to the zoo you’d either be welcomed as a conqueror or torn apart as the monkey devil.

Seanbaby: Do you know what this means!? I am finally going to get to fuck Jane Goodall. No. No, I’m forgetting the first rule of liquid monkey. If it sounds too good to be true, it is definitely rendered raccoon.

Brockway: You’re right, you’re right. There’s no way that’s real monkey. Look at the color. It’s lemur at best. If you want the real stuff, I’m talking hard monkey here – you gotta pay the premium.

Brockway: Only paw juice, guaranteed! Just look for Worried JoJo – he’s the Double Red Lucky Real Monkey Seal of Quality!

Seanbaby: hahaha this is the best article we’ve ever done.

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Thanks to Henry for the hot Hot Dog Tip!