Marcel Strigberger |
Apparently, she purchased a US$4.49 package of the chocolate pumpkins on the basis of the picture that shows a pumpkin looking like a jack-o-lantern, with two eyes and a smile. When she opened the package she noticed, to her dismay, that the pumpkins had no eyes or mouth. They were faceless, their cranial features being all covered with chocolate.
Kelly was flabbergasted and she decided to bring this class action on behalf of herself and “all other similarly situated individuals.” She is suing in the District Court in Orlando. Nice of her to consider and pick up the cause for other victims.
I note the “complaint” requests a jury trial. I presume her lawyer is handling this action on a contingency basis. Will he spring for the cost of a jury selection expert? These individuals no doubt have a good sense of whom best to accept or reject for any given jury trial. I can readily see the expert whispering to the lawyer, “Let’s dump juror number 4; he’s got a grin like the Cheshire cat.”
The lawyer can of course ask the potential juror a few questions to test bias:
Lawyer: Madame, can you remain calm when you look at a peanut butter chocolate pumpkin which has no face?
And when I think of class actions my mind runs through the typical class action cases with causes of action such as faulty car brakes, dangerous medications or carcinogenic construction materials. What are the damages in this situation? I suppose the plaintiff’s lawyer has the expert for this issue as well. Counsel will likely engage some psychiatrist from Switzerland, a Dr. Von Himmel, who has dealt extensively with patients who have suffered this type of confectionary collapse.
The good doctor will no doubt have written and presented papers globally, with titles such as, “Pumpkin Psychosis,” “Cocoa loco” and “Getting lost in the Toblerone Triangle.” This gentleman would have the jury eating out of his hands. He might even feed them chocolate.
I wonder what will happen should the lady win her case and shake up Hershey for a few million. Who would be next? Nestle’s Turtles? I’m sure someone can make a case for deception here. I note a box of the Turtles has an expiry date of several months. We all know turtles have an average life span of about 50 years. If this product packaging is not fraught with deception, what is? I suggest Nestle call an emergency board meeting asap to discuss increasing the longevity of their Turtles. I urge them to move quickly, not like a turtle.
Meanwhile, I for one will be keeping an eye out for the outcome of the Hershey class action. I already see a potential class action against PepsiCo Inc., the maker of Quaker Oats. The packaging on a box of this product is clearly misleading and deceptive. When I open a box, I expect a gentleman with long white hair, wearing a black, wide-brimmed hat and a light-coloured scarf, to pop out, look at me and say, “I wish thee a good morning.”
What is the world coming to? Wars, climate change, faceless chocolate pumpkins. All too much.
Marcel Strigberger retired from his Greater Toronto Area litigation practice and continues the more serious business of humorous author and speaker. His book Boomers, Zoomers, and Other Oomers: A Boomer-biased Irreverent Perspective on Aging is available on Amazon, (e-book) and paper version. Visit www.marcelshumour.com. Follow him @MarcelsHumour.
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