Strongbow‘s website is broken and I’m unable to email them, so instead, please read this aloud in your most quintessentially British voice.

Dear Letter Reading People at Strongbow,

I have at times enjoyed your rather witty television advertising for Strongbow Cider. By contrast, I find the advertising for your rival ‘Magners’ to be nausea inducing, tedious and cringe-worthy on a level only previously achieved by the early evening programming of ITV. That they can claim their drink is an ideal accompaniment to all seasons of year just by adding snow to a picturesque orchard scene is preposterous. Worse, since their product is so foul tasting as to require sub-zero coolant to be palatable, they are responsible for cider in bars all over the country, regardless of brand, now being served on ice as standard. Thus, they have inflicted a great deal of inconvenience on my — actually, rather rare— cider habit.

I would very much appreciate it if you could respond to this madness with an television spot of your own. Thirty seconds of intermission featuring Magner’s idiotic, perma-smiling 22–30 demographic simpletons enjoying their Generic Cider Product in an inexplicably popular middle-of-nowhere orchard establishment. Show their soft-focus, beaming yet soulless faces as you pan around the audaciously comfy bar and highlight the absence of any smelly bearded grandfather types. Once the scene is set, kindly have a mid-pour glass of ice-tarnished cider drink shattered into pieces by an incoming volley of your trademark Strongbow arrows. A witty, single line slogan of your choice should follow. Fade to black.

Further, it would be quite marvellous if you could produce a post-watershed alternative where the dressed-by-committee bonehead making the order were shot in addition to his drink.

With the correct execution and comic timing, I’m afraid you are unlikely to sell any additional cider as it’s the winter and cider is obviously a summer drink. But you will make my day, and hopefully put a stop to this Magners nonsense.

Yours,

Ben Ward