It has come to my attention that, due to my cryogenic freezing on the other side of the planet, everything I’m now seeing on shelves at my local big-box stores is actually a rehashing of last year’s limited-edition goods. For starters, damn it, France. And also, damn it, companies, when did you just give the hell up? Great, I get to sip on last year’s butter rum seltzer. Maybe I’ll take out my Zune and play the Mariah Carey holiday album in my Snuggie and eat Air Crisps while we’re being retroactive, too. I shouldn’t have to spend my grant money on turkey-flavored ice cream. Where’s the turkey-flavored seltzer for the masses? Pumpkin pie? Christmas cookies? Latkes?I was pretty excited to try this until I found out that the internet had already come upon it, razed it of clever jokes and instagrammed photos and left it to die. But to my surprise, nobody had actually reviewed it. Yes, Polar made a flavor so terrifying that people were content to mock it from afar rather than putting it to their lips and taking a big swig of holiday reality. There are two important things you should know about butter rum seltzer: one, that it’s a ‘Limited Edition Winter New England,’ which means as much to me as a careful clump of SEO keywords does, and two, that it contains no alcohol. But it sure does taste like it does.The result is a carbonated cocktail of the scent of melted-down butterscotch candies (the type malingering in bowls at post offices worldwide), the vanilla-bubblegum notes of cream soda, and the wince of a boozian tang at the back of the throat. I’m not sure what that’s from, but this entire drink is a bit of a holiday mindfuck, from its stark, heartbreaking resemblance to a vodka tonic and its cloying, candy-like scents. Stick this under the tree instead of a requisite fruitcake or restraining order. At least this can be mixed with booze.