Earlier today, a man took to social media to promise that if he could get 1,995 retweets, he would open a can of Spider-Man pasta, released by Chef Boyardee in 1995, to see what evils lurked inside of the dinged and corroded can. It wasn't long before Matt, who runs the Twitter handle and website Dinosaur Dracula (described as "a site about 1980s toys, 1990s candy, holidays, horror movies and weird recipes"), would announce to Twitter that they had successfully passed the limit, and that he would open the cans, acknowledging that there "may be regrets."
Tonight, he shared a brief thread with his followers, documenting the opening of the can and an examination of its contents which, as you might imagine, were not only not edible but also essentially all one big piece of rusty...something...that vaguely hinted it might have been food matter at one point. But! -- and this is key for Spider-Man pasta, as we understand it -- Matt did manage to locate a Spider-Man noodle. Ish.
You can check out the thread below.
Opening a wildly corroded can of Spider-Man Pasta from 1995: a thread. (1/5) pic.twitter.com/DW7w7ALMO4— Dinosaur Dracula (@DinosaurDracula) April 16, 2020
I put the can opener to work, unsettled by the rust, but emboldened by the lack of noxious fumes. I turn the knob and wince, unable to rule out the possibility that the contents have mutated into something alive & malevolent. (2/5) pic.twitter.com/IBmJXBWZI2— Dinosaur Dracula (@DinosaurDracula) April 16, 2020
They say tragedy plus time equals comedy, but there's nothing funny about 15 ounces of Spider-Man Pasta reduced to a rotted 3-ounce chunk. Recalling the fate of Jordy Verrill in Creepshow, I'm thankful for my rubber gloves. (3/5) pic.twitter.com/W5WqQ7wEHs— Dinosaur Dracula (@DinosaurDracula) April 16, 2020
I carefully remove the mass, which looks like a cross between Big Thunder Mountain and one of those Geonosian hives from Attack of the Clones. (4/5) pic.twitter.com/PIchW9mdMy— Dinosaur Dracula (@DinosaurDracula) April 16, 2020
I think I notice something, but consult the label on the can to be sure. Indeed, there's poor Spider-Man, trapped in this godforsaken toxic monstrosity. I'm sorry, Peter. With old pasta comes great instability.
Thank you all for taking this journey with me. (5/5) pic.twitter.com/6UcfRcN9tz— Dinosaur Dracula (@DinosaurDracula) April 16, 2020
...Of course, if you're anything like us, at least some of your attention is drawn away from the "toxic monstrosity and toward the '90s-era Spider-Man and Marvel Comics logos. And that might seem like missing the forest for the trees, except that:
1) Dinosaur Dracula specifically appeals to people nostalgic for that era, and
2) Who wants to look at what was in that can?
You can follow Dinosaur Dracula above,and read p on more nostalgic stuff in his feed and website. Meanwhile, keep an eye on the comments. Some of them are pretty funny, and one user has already located a can of New England clam chowder that expired back in 2005, and has promised to open it in ten years in honor of the Spider-Man experiment.
You can also see a 1996 ad for the pasta above which, now somewhat prophetically, called it "so hot it's almost radioactive."
Disclosure: ComicBook is owned by CBS Interactive, a division of ViacomCBS.