Someone is not telling us the truth. Something is being hidden from us, the civilians, the people...the consumers.

Long long ago on one of the warmer evenings of January 2015 I set out on a two-man journey for suitable beverage satisfaction. Meeting one of the keepers of building dedicated to the trade of currency for goods (but not service) I noticed a peculiar selection of drinks I hadn't witnessed prior to this evening.

Upon one of these shelves lay a singular can of Dr. Pepper totally lit by the blue-tinted fluorescent lamp of its refrigerative origin.

With a swift movement between shelf, to cashier, and out the door, I had purchased one can of "Dr. Pepper", and with no regards for whether Pepper was a real doctor or if any doctor would recommend Dr. Pepper I put the cold can to my lips and felt liquid bouncing off the aluminium surface of the can and down into my throat.

And it was not good.
And it was not bad.
It was worse than the simple overused words of the english vernacular could encompass.

I'm not one to waste things. I definitely have a cemented and passionate care for the earth. I absolutely do and I will absolutely mention it where relevant as a reason why you can't discredit me as an asshole. I truly do have a believe in the environment and I really care about it. I 100% true to anyone reading care about the earth and will make any effort to preserve its future even if I have to cause more harm than good to my cause. But Dr. Pepper's "taste" struck me with an animalistic and clearly caveman-era response where I immediately and firmly grasped the can's neck before choking it and draining it down on the pavement nearby. It was disgusting; but changing. It was the first drink I had ever consciously thrown away. I hadn't even considered giving it to someone else, I didn't want them to know the pain, and carry the burden I had to carry.

I wanted to make a complaint. I wanted to scream. I wanted to shout. I wanted to call of the poison helpline and request they add a help guide on the ingestion of pure fucking shit because I had just sipped on the teet of the pepper's doctor.

But this was long ago. I was a child. I was naive. I was pure, and I was malleable. The years passing 2015 were some of the toughest I've had to endure and I wish I could tell that imbecilic baby of my own self only two years prior that what he was facing then and there is nothing compared to the now. Maybe my taste has matured to the taste of a can of Dr. Pepper, or maybe my tongue has grown even more replused by the flavour.

Obviously I reflect on how much I may have grown only days after making a statement on well-respect opinion platform Twitter that [sic] "dr pepper is digusting"(Source: https://twitter.com/oranebeast/status/924811275636318209 )

This statement. My story. My growth. My personal development and journey as a person of carbonate liquid-- was met with hate. And disgust. People complained to me. People tweeted about me without mentioning my name, as if I was a curse to them and their followers. I was even told to die.

Among the rioting crowds of the outraged, the more civilized of the bunch opened a dialog. Rumour had it, my country of New Zealand, was selling perhaps bootleg, counterfeit, or even fraudulent Dr. Pepper.

My patriotic self was appalled. I was crying. I shed real tears with a proportion of sodium in the liquid lesser than that of Dr Pepper because I hadn't even touched the stuff since 2015 which you should know if you've been reading.

Did I need to call the government?


Did I need to scold the establishment?


Was my entire political outlook twisted and broken due to a can of "pop" so far and so extremely that I must take all truths as lies and all lies as truths?


I had to come to terms that one reality is different to another and I must find out the truth. The real, true, truth.


Today, tired, upset, and stressed, over the realities in which our universe house, I set out to do just that...


I. Must. Find. The. Truth.

With this fundraiser I set out to do the elementary task of reviewing publicly on YouTube with my own eyes and tongue two cans of Dr. Pepper, One of the American localization, and one of the presumed inferior New Zealand altercation.

$6 will be going to the true, blue, white, and red can of Dr. Pepper shipped straight from the U of god-damn SA, whilst $2 will also head to the shitty version of Dr. Pepper that no one cares about or should even house or acknowledge from my own country.

Any further money acquired from the woke and aware audience of my fundraiser will go towards the essentials of the review process-- A suit, Better camera gear, Payment for my team of hard-working peptruthers behind the scenes.

If a substantial amount is raised, I may outsource to alternate countries, attempting to discover if they too, have Dr. Pepper variants differing from the vanilla-except-it-does-not-taste-like-vanilla Dr. Pepper

All reward levels encompass those of the rewards below them

The word review has one key word in it, View. I am making this for the viewers. Those who can. Those who cannot. Those who simply want to bear witness to a discovery of 355ml proportions. You.

I am so very grateful for you taking the time to make this journey down the 1s and 0s that have transformed into a story, which has transformed into pure emotions, and any money you can send my way is enough to satisfy my hope in humanity.

If we break big figures, I must attempt to reach out to only the most credible of individuals to cameo in this edutaining media piece; whom will remain secret until review's release. Unite with me, Peptruther.