THE GREAT POOP PANIC: When Franken Berry Became Public Enemy Number One Because Of Number Two #MindOfMarlar

In 1971, America lost its collective mind when kids started pooping pink — and the culprit was a strawberry-loving cartoon monster on a cereal box.

Today, I’d like to take you on a journey into the deepest, darkest parts of American history — specifically, your colon. That’s right. Buckle up for a tale so strange, so absurd, it could only come from the land of freedom, fast food, and fluorescent food dye. I give you: The Great Pink Poop Panic.

It was 1971. The New York Times was leaking the Pentagon Papers, Walt Disney World had just opened in Florida, and somewhere in the Soviet Union, cosmonauts were clinking vodka glasses in space. But back on Earth — specifically, in the U.S. — we were dealing with a much weirder kind of launch… the rocket-fuel propulsion that only happened in children’s cheek chuckies.

There were emergency rooms swarming with panicked parents clutching their perfectly healthy kids, all screaming the same urgent message: “DOCTOR, MY CHILD’S POOP IS PINK!”

Not brown, as it should be. Not red, that would indicate something far more horrific… but… pink? You mean, like a flamingo wearing a tutu, pink?

Yep. Now, doctors are generally unflappable. These are people who look death in the face before their first cup of coffee. But even they had to pause when confronted with technicolor turds. Was it a new type of internal bleeding? A rare disease? A gastrointestinal rebellion led by rogue intestines?

Nope. It was breakfast.

Enter the least intimidating villain in medical history: Franken Berry cereal — a lovable, spooky-themed, strawberry-flavored breakfast designed to charm children and horrify internal plumbing systems. General Mills had created a monster in more than one way… and it was passing through the digestive systems of America’s youth with flamboyant flair.

Medical experts, desperate to get to the bottom of this — pun absolutely intended — launched an urgent investigation. The result? A groundbreaking study in The Journal of Pediatrics with the thrilling title:

“Benign Red Pigmentation of Stool Resulting from Food Coloring in a New Breakfast Cereal.”

Seriously – the pediatric people need to hire some comedy writers. That headline is about as dry as a box of Franken Berry Cereal – not the cereal, just the box. Let’s rewrite that… how about, “How Franken Berry Gave My Kid Strawberry Soft Serve.” (See how much more fun that is?)

Leading this scientific charge was Dr. John V. Payne, who bravely fed four bowls of Franken Berry to a 12-year-old boy. His findings? “The stool resembled strawberry ice cream.” Which, if you’re like me, instantly ruined strawberry milkshakes forever.

And thus, the highly official diagnosis was born: Franken Berry Stool. That’s right — our tax dollars helped name a poop problem after a cartoon character on a cereal box. Thanks, science.

So what was the culprit turning America’s kids into Pepto-Bismol-producing machines? That would be Red Dye No. 2 — also known as amaranth, which sounds like either an ancient spell or a heavy metal band. Upon realizing their cereal was turning children into walking Crayola factories, General Mills wisely switched to Red Dye No. 40 — a color presumably less prone to causing chaos in the porcelain patootie plopper.

You’d think that would be the end of the problem and we could all go home and eat our Neapolitan ice cream while avoiding the strawberry section that has been eternally tarnished in our brains.

But no – because this is where the pink panic pivoted to paranoid. Mars — the company behind M&Ms — pulled all red candies from production for nearly a decade. But here’s the kicker – their red candies didn’t contain Red Dy No.2 That’s like banning grapes because Grape Crush gave someone the burps.

Meanwhile, across the globe, Russian scientists fed Red Dye No. 2 to rats and said, “Hey look, tumors!” America responded — in typical 1970s fashion — with a shrug and a cigarette. Eventually, though, the FDA did get around to banning the dye. It wasn’t quite Rocky IV, but let’s call it a Cold War win for the USSR.

This wasn’t even the first time food dye had betrayed us. Back in 1950 — on Halloween, no less — kids got sick from orange candy. I can only imagine the conversations:

“Trick or treat!”

“Nope. The government says orange is evil now. Here’s a handful of sadness and a tongue scraper.”

In response, the FDA created the Color Additive Amendments of 1960 — which only proves the FDA needs a comedy writer too. Let’s see… how about… the “No More Technicolor Turds Act?” Hmmm?

But wait — General Mills wasn’t done. Oh no. They doubled down with Boo Berry in 1972. This time? Blue Dye No. 1. The result? Green poop. Because apparently, in the world of digestive alchemy, blue plus yellow bile equals emerald evacuation.

Today, about 75% of dyes in cereals are “natural” — which sounds comforting until you realize the other 25% is still basically melted crayons. Canada and the UK still allow Red Dye No. 2 in their food. Either they’re waiting for their own pink poop crisis, or they’ve just accepted that bathroom time should be more whimsical, and feces should be more photogenic.

So the next time you pour yourself a bowl of brightly colored corn crunchies, or wheat wheels, or magic marshmallows… just remember: what goes in neon might come out neon-er.

Eat well, my friends — and may all your flushes be fascinating.

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