Jolly+Jooty

** Ipswich, Suffolk, UK

jkkkj **

media type="custom" key="3467658" ** i   ** Greetings! We're an independent candy company with our roots in Ipswich, England. Our story has to do with a geographically-impaired farm owner, some angry, bayonet-sporting Quebecois, and a friendly crew of sea-sailin' pirates with a lot of grog and even more faith in the Flying Spaghetti Monster. Come along for the ride, and perhaps purchase some candy along the way.... media type="googlemap" key="http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&source=s_q&hl=en&geocode=&q=Ipswich,+England&sll=52.051171,1.154165&sspn=0.022485,0.054932&ie=UTF8&ll=52.084992,1.172447&spn=0.089899,0.219727&t=h&z=12&iwloc=addr&output=embed&s=AARTsJrSVzs62C0wjOpYZo7aK5ixc7CR4g" width="425" height="350"    Before we get to anything sweet, we advise you to pay a visit to the past, a place that was not always so sweet for our founder, Henry Bachmann. You can do this by reading one of two versions of our history...

...the Abridged Version

Once upon a time, Henry Bachmann started a candy company. It sold, and still sells, lots of candy. The End.

...Or the Unabridged Version In 1924, Henry Bachmann was a very wealthy man. He lived in Valentine, Nebraska, with his five children and wife, Ellie. People from miles around knew his name; he owned working farms all over Nebraska and South Dakota. Even his workers revered him, for he gave good wages and was always quick to lend a hand where one was needed.

Although he liked the life he was living, Bachmann feared he was not getting all he wanted out of it. His true passion was not in maintaining his farms but rather in something he’d experimented with as a boy: candy-making.

When he was nine, a friend had told him tales of a far-off land called the Chic-Choc Mountains. The simple name had filled him with wonder. He had known from that day on that this mysterious, storybook mountain range would be home to his dreamed-of candy company.

Ignoring the protests of his family, in December 1924, Bachmann grabbed half of his life’s fortune, said goodbye to farming, and hopped on a train east. He was on his way to the Chic-Choc Mountains of Quebec.

Unfortunately, for all the man knew about farming and candy-making, he knew just as little about geography. Arriving in January of 1926, he settled in Gaspe, Quebec, to the east of Chic-Choc Mountains, on Canada’s east coast, and started Chic-Choc Candies. He didn’t know that the Quebecois were openly hostile to Americans. This naïveté led to the demise of his first candy company, and the almost-demise of him.

A short month after Bachmann opened his candy company, he was closing up shop after yet another day of no business when a group of French-Canadian hit men invaded his store and knocked him out cold with bayonets. They threw him in a sailboat with no food or water and set him sail in the Gulf of St. Lawrence.

When Bachmann awoke, he knew not where he was. He had a throbbing headache and could barely stand with vertigo. His stomach was queasy, even though he hadn’t eaten or drunk anything since the previous day. He was delirious and lost, drifting aimlessly in the Atlantic.

Bachmann stayed this way for nearly three days. The sun baked him without mercy as he lay on the floor of his feeble boat. Sunsets and sunrises did nothing to restore his mangled sense of time. He only had the strength to throw a sweaty arm over his eyes to shield them. His body began to shrivel as he deteriorated.

At the end of the third day, ominous clouds moved in from the west and swathed the sky in their grey mist. The waves grew black, servants to the atmosphere’s wishes, and tossed Bachmann’s tiny plank boat about them. Disoriented, Bachmann stood up and stripped off his dirtied clothes. He held his hands to the heavens and let the rain wash over his face and body as lightning struck all around him and thunder rolled threateningly in the distance. He drank and drank. Finally he fell back and lay still once again as waves tumbled his boat amongst the somersaulting waves.

The next day, Bachmann awoke to the sound of someone yelling, "Ahoy!" He opened his eyes cautiously and started. Staring down at him from a huge ship at his port side was a gnarly man with an eye patch and peg leg. The image danced before his eyes, and for his first moments of true lucidity since being knocked out, he thought he was hallucinating. His boat was filled with water that tilted the bow dangerously downward, and he wasn’t wearing a thing. His clothes had long since washed overboard in the storm. The pirate hopped lightly onto Bachmann’s meagre boat and extended his hook to help Bachmann up. He introduced himself as Johnny Blackjack and gave Bachmann a lift up onto the deck of the pirate ship. Then the pirate jumped back onto the ship, kicking away Bachmann’s boat. It was, and always had been, driftwood on the open sea.  Johnny Blackjack introduced Bachmann to the crew: Blowtorch Joe, Crackerjack Craig, Roarin’ Red, Scurvy Sam, and so on. They took Bachmann below deck, where they all consumed frothing mugs of grog. Once everyone had had a second glass, Johnny Blackjack began his story. He explained how he and his crew were the Chosen Ones of the Flying Spaghetti Monster, or FSM. The Spagedeity had made His wishes clear: He told the pirates how to reach Bachmann so they could help him. Johnny Blackjack explained, with a tear in his eye, that it was as though the FSM’s Noodly Appendages had steered the ship towards Bachmann.

Bachmann was amazed at his luck, not to mention the all-knowing power and generosity of the Spaghedeity. He stayed with the pirates for a full month, consuming many frothing pints of grog and worshipping His Noodliness.

In March of 1926, Bachmann set out on his own again. He had food, drink, and his own mini pirate ship. He also had learned to collect rainwater and fish. Using these supplies and skills, and the knowledge the FSM and His Noodly Appendages would guide his boat as he travelled, Bachmann allowed his craft to drift. He hit land, finally, in June of 1927. Somehow, and for a reason no one shall ever know, the Spaghedeity had landed him on the coast near Ipswich, England.

Immediately after stumbling upon Ipswich, Bachmann started up his candy business once again. Undeterred in his cause, he cautiously befriended the Brits and studied their strange customs intently. He had never before seen or heard such a thing as the British culture. One time, upon telling his neighbor and good friend, Melvin Gale, that he felt it was his duty to make his company succeed, the man responded, "And a jolly duty it is, I do hope!" However, the phrase "jolly duty" sounded more like "jolly jooty". Bachmann said this to himself, inside his head, for days on end. He knew the name of his company, as well as the name of what would become his flagship candy.

Bachmann dwelled on English culture to form his legacy; he named products after greetings, city names, mannerisms, and speaking patterns. But there was one candy that was not named for any of these things. Bachmann had promised Johnny Blackjack that he would make a candy especially for him. He produced what Johnny and his crew had dreamed up: a chocolate truffle with a layer of peanut butter, all enrobed in chocolate, which he called Pirate's Pleasure.

Just as Bachmann began to think he could hold his ground in the candy business, the Great Depression began. As the 1920's turned to the 1930's, Bachmann became uncertain, and his once-strong finances began to falter. Worse yet, back in Nebraska, his farms were struggling as well. Caught in their troubles, he and his wife began to lose contact, and he no longer could keep track of what was happening on the other side of the Atlantic.

Meanwhile, in 1933, Hitler came to power in Germany. Since Ipswich was ideally situated to trade with Germany, Bachmann had been producing candies that were exported there for quite a while. Even so, it came as a surprise when Hitler himself requested special shippings of Jolly Jooty Candy to him in Germany.

As his finances shrank, Bachmann's hatred for Hitler grew. He knew he wanted to take action, but did not know how in a time when money from these special shipments was sacred sustenance. Finally in September 1940, when Bachmann thought there was a chance for the economy's and his business's recovery, he pursued an idea. He sent Hitler a personal letter proclaiming that he had just invented a new candy and wanted Hitler to be the first to try it. It was a confection he called Pip-Pip Poppers - a slab of chocolate with tiny crackling balls throughout. These balls were much like modern-day Pop Rocks. But there was a catch - these Pop Rocks were explosive. Bachmann didn't inform Hitler of this minor detail, of course.

Hitler responded with much enthusiasm. He was honored to be the first to try the newest invention of Bachmann's, whom he considered to be a close personal friend. Little did he know that this "close personal friend" of his was plotting against him.

When the candy arrived in Germany, Hitler's lady friend, Eva Braun, took the candy into the living room, where together they took their first bites. The candies were delicious! Fortunately for Hitler, but not so much for Jews, Poles, etc., the candy had lost its explosive power from such a long journey. Unbeknownst to Bachmann, the explosive power of the special tiny crackling balls had left completely within a month!

In March 1946, after several failed attempts to contact his family in Nebraska, Bachmann caught word of some bad news. His farm had gone completely bankrupt during the Depression, and his wife had perished of influenza during the 1945-46 winter. His children had fled the farm, and their locations were unknown.

Bachmann was devastated. Like the the passengers when the iceberg sliced the Titanic, he felt as though all his dreams, his ambitions, had left him, and soon he would surely sink. With his wife dead and his children nowhere to be found, Bachmann resolved to end his life. In preparation, he began to board up his shop.

Melvin Gale, if you recall, was well-acquainted with Bachmann. He witnessed Bachmann's despair at the news of Bachmann's lost wife and pulled back the curtain from his home next door to watch Bachmann board up his shop. Gale knew something bad was going to happen, but he did not know what. He went to his dolphin sanctuary, where he stroked the heads of his three show dolphins, Dil, Dash, and Dott. They were known all over the UK as the only show dolphins in Europe.

Gale sat in his sanctuary, petting his dolphins, and staring out at Bachmann as he boarded up his shop. Gale continued his vigil even after the sunset's vibrant colors had swirled and faded into the horizon. He waited, watching the candle in Bachmann's house illuminate Bachmann's shadowy figure as Bachmann paced. But around midnight, Gale fell asleep.

When Gale woke up, it was still night, but a candle no longer burned in Bachmann's window. He thought this was surely a very, very bad sign. He ran to Bachmann's house, where he pounded frantically on the door, to no answer. He tried busting down the door, but it was strong and well-built, and even splintering it was impossible. Defeated and miserable, he ran to his dolphins. He hugged their slippery hides and cried.

The dolphins refused to comfort him. They were restless, nudging him sharply and tugging at his clothing. When he stood up once again, they began a spirited frolic in their pool. Dil shimmied on top of a play raft, while Dott tipped the raft. Dil plunged into the dark water. In a swirl of flashing moonlit silver bodies, the dolphins danced beneath the surface. When they reappeared, they were all floating with their bellies up - were they playing dead?

Without hesitation, Gale knew exactly what to do. He gathered three afghans and drenched them with water from the sanctuary. Then he dropped them and ran.

Gale raced to the house of a man called Charlie Stewart on the River Orwell, barely south of Ipswich. The rain had begun, a steady drumming beat that matched the rhythm of his heart. At the house, Gale beat on Stewart's door. After a dozen knocks, Stewart appeared in his nightclothes. Gale told him to grab his coat and come along. Together they woke Stewart's neighbor, Rodney Sheldon, and the three sped back to Gale's sanctuary.

In a matter of minutes, Gale, Stewart, and Sheldon were back in Gale's sanctuary. They each took a soaked afghan and loaded it with a slippery dolphin. In a three-man burst of adrenaline, they each hauled a porpoise back to the river. At the banks, they lifted the dolphin-filled afghans into the wet, and the dolphins pushed off and swam away. Now the men had to wait, anxiously, for something to happen.

As the men were rushing to find him, Bachmann was preparing his death. He did not know how to swim. He fought the rain that blurred in the sky with his small boat. He was riding between the black water and the gray, empty air, riding on the brink of his demise. He could not feel the rain or cold as it penetrated him. He could not feel the dark and the fear. He could not feel the greiving that had driven him into this boat in the dead of night. He could feel...nothing.

On March 14, 1946, Bachmann died from purposely overturning his boat into the deep, rushing river.

Almost.

But in an instant, as Bachmann gasped what appeared would be his last ragged, drowning breath, three sleek, silver bodies encircled him. The full, bright moon accentuated their luminescent glow. One glided beneath the floundering man, and with a bold flash of hot-white silver, resurfaced again with Bachmann straddling his back and clutching his dorsal fin. The other two dolphins, graceful and elegant beneath a velvet blanket of stars and stream, each sidled up to Bachmann so that one was on either side. Water licking at their glowing hides and tossing lightly all around them, Bachmann and the three dolphins quietly moved back to the waiting three men a half-kilometer upshore. The rain had slowed, a hopeful omen hiding in folds of despair.

The men noticed the glistening beads of water holding the moon's glow on the porpoises' hides first. They rejoiced and helped Bachmann from Dil's back. But as they turned around, they discerned another silouhette approaching from the west. A rowboat was working towards them. From it, they heard a distant, "Ahoy!"

Gale, Stewart, and Sheldon stared in bewilderment. Who was this? Should they be frightened? But Bachmann rose to his feet and lumbered to the shore. He calmly embraced the pirates as they docked their sailboat.

That night, over mugs of coffee at Stewart's home, it was decided that Bachmann would travel with the pirates back to America, where he would find his children. They left in the wee hours of that morning, rowing in their little craft to the sea, where the pirate ship was tethered expectantly.

After a long, grog- and worship-filled trip back to America, Bachmann and the pirates arrived at the harbor. The sun was already setting for the day, and its final hurried strokes of colour were shouting goodbye on the horizon. Silhouetted by the sun, six lean figures approached the ship. With the sun's final encore still twinkling in his eyes, Bachmann almost didn't notice that these were his own children. After a tearful reunion and the pirates' promise to return to take them back to England soon, Bachmann and his kids agreed to stay a Johnny Blackjack's friend's house for the time being.

In September of 1947, the pirates came back and took the family over the seas again, where Bachmann's chilren assisted him in the candy business. They quickly made friends with the neighbors, who were ecstatic to see Bachmann back and well again. Today, one of Henry Bachmann's grandsons, Oliver, runs the business, after Bachmann's death at age eighty-three in February of 1974. All of Bachmann's children and grandchildren live in England, where they help as needed to ensure that you get the best candy products available on the market, even after all these years.



Now, on to the Candy...

|| Peanuts and peanut butter, coated in a thin layer of caramel and then white chocolate || || Peanut butter cup, except with a layer of toffee in the bottom || || Swirled white and milk chocolate with crackle cereal embedded throughout || || Caramel covered with white cream filling and then with coconut, on a stick
 * The Jooty
 * Cheerio
 * The Bridgefordshire
 * The Glottal Stop

|| || Dark chocolate, mint-filled bar with crackle cereal in the chocolate || || Bar split into three easy-to-break-off sections of white cream filling ||
 * <span style="color: #cf2af8; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Ello Bar
 * <span style="color: #cf2af8; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Bonnie Bar
 * <span style="color: #832af8; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"> Pirate's Pleasure

|| <span style="color: #cf2af8; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="color: #cf2af8; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">  Chocolate truffle sporting a thin layer of peanut butter and then enrobed in milk chocolate ||
 * <span style="color: #cf2af8; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="color: #cf2af8; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Pip-Pip Poppers

|| <span style="color: #cf2af8; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Tiny crackling (non-explosive!) balls embedded in milk chocolate ||

<span style="display: block; font-size: 200%; color: #ff00ff; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; text-align: center;">Q&A <span style="color: #ff00ff; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">**Why did you pick those ingredients for Pirate's Pleasure?**

As you know, Pirate's Pleasure was created especially for Johnny Backjack and his squash-bucklin' crew. But why, you ask, is it made with chocolate truffle, peanut butter, and milk chocolate? Well, Johnny Blackjack's favorite type of candy was composed of chocolate truffle. He tasted it only once when he was a young hoodlum of ten, when his great aunt made it in celebration of Talk-Like-A-Pirate Day. In fact, this was the only candy Johnny Blackjack ever tasted in his life, since pirates usually don't receive such delicacies, especially once they join a crew and begin to traverse the seas. The rest of Blackjack's crew, in order to add their own input to the creation of Bachmann's special, just-for-them candy, voted (by raising their grog mugs) on something else to add. Peanut butter won out, and so Pirate's Pleasure was born.


 * I understand what's in the candy...but what the heck's a glottal stop, outside of your company?**

You've asked quite a simple question, really. A glottal stop, outside of the candy world, is when someone, often a Brit, omits the T's in the middle of the word when pronouncing it. For example, if I were to say "glottal" like "gla-ul" instead, I would be cleanly avoiding the T's, thus using this neat trick. Depending on where you live, you may use or hear this, but you just didn't know what it was called. Shame on you.


 * Um...we Americans think of Cheerios as breakfast cereal.**

First of all, that's not a question. And second of all, who cares? Our Cheerio is way better! It's a creamy peanut butter cup, except with a layer of dark, rich toffee in the bottom. I'll bet you don't have those in America, do you? That's why you should order some of our candy right now!


 * Did you name the Judy after your founder's wife or something?**

There are a few things we know about he who askes this question. First, you read the abridged version of the history, if you read any history at all. Also, you completely missed the spelling of our flagship candy and company. Third, if you're actually wondering this, you should be asking if our company, not the candy, was named after a Judy. And last, you are from America, since we in the UK pronounce our T's in a crisp fashion. If you really want to know what the Jooty was named for, I'm going to tell you where you can find out. Go. Right now. Scroll your screen up to the unabridged history. That's right. I mean it. NOW.


 * How did Bachmann make the crackling balls in Pip-Pip Poppers explosive in order to send them to Hitler?**

To this day, no one knows quite how Bachmann made the crackling balls explosive. Was it the air pressure in Ipswich, or the sugar Bachmann had? Since we aren't scientists here at Jolly Jooty, we really have no idea. However, we are offering a cash prize to anyone who can figure out an explanation that sounds somewhat logical. If you would like to give your input, please leave a comment.


 * Why do pirates have such odd names?**

We at Jolly Jooty object to the nature of this question. Pirates are very important to us and our history. What's your name? Craig Smith? Dorothy Williams? HAHAHAHA! Wouldn't you prefer a cool pirate name? Plus, Pastafarians (people who worship the FSM) would argue that we descended from pirates! Have you ever thought it strange that we share only ninety-six per cent of our DNA with apes, but a whopping ninety-nine-point-nine is shared with pirates? Well, have you?


 * What's this picture of spaghetti with eyeballs all about?**

[Sigh.] Don't worry about it. Just buy some candy.


 * <span style="font-size: 200%; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">A Business Letter(!) **

<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">267 Bobbits Lane Ipswich, Suffolk, UK 29768

November 17, 1971

VeeVee Vender Chief Vending Machine Consultant Victory Vending Machines Non Sequitur Avenue Blimey, Australia 59783

Dear Ms. Vender:

All too often when I seek out a vending machine, I am sorely disappointed by the selection it has to offer. When I am in the mood for some cheese Doritos, they are obsolete. When my craving is in the protein area, the last package of peanuts is stuck in the shoot. But most importantly, when I want some candy, I never get what I want. Now I know you, Ms. Vender, are a very busy woman, but I also know you aim to please. I can fix your problem. Should you add Jolly Jooty's products to your inventory of delectable, vendable treats, not only shall the customer be satisfied, but so shall you. Our candies provide a built-in system to deter vending machine robbers, they have all the fat and sugars required of vending machine products, and they are, like all well-selling vending machine foods, in no way worth the high price a vending machine requests.

As I said, an unbeatable benefit of our products is their ability to magically stop robbers from getting to a vending machine's money storage. Once a criminal breaks the glass, he or she will notice the eye-catching wrapper design of our products, upon which the person will feel an inexplicable urge to unwrap our products and eat them. The Jooty, for example, has a wrapper which sports distorted bold lettering and a mouth-watering image of what is inside it. After the robber rips open the package, he will take a bite and be transfixed by the candy's flavour and texture. Pip-Pip Poppers fascinate everyone with their tickling sensation created as the tiny crackling balls dissolve. The Glottal Stop often locks consumers' jaws together temporarily, instilling worry on the part of the robber as to his dental health. By this time, the robber will most likely forget why he was there in the first place and leave.

Next, our products have all the fat and sugar of the best vendable foods. Our Pirate's Pleasure, for example, with its decadent chocolate truffle and peanut butter centre, possesses five grams of fat and thirty-six grams of sugar. The Cheerio's toffee and peanut butter content give it a whopping eight grams of fat and thirty-two grams of sugar. The Bridgefordshire packs all the unhealth of both white and milk chocolate, leaving no room for nutrition in its four grams of fat and twenty-six grams of sugar. With the fat and sugar contents of our foods, Jolly Jooty's line of products makes consumers hefty and hyper with the best of them.

Finally, our products aren't worth their vending price, since only the least popular vending machine products are. The Ello Bar, with its thick mint filling and crackle cereal in the rich chocolate coating, could sell for as much as one-point-two-five pounds each, while they may only be worth one pound at the market. The same goes for the Bonnie Bar, which is split conveniently into three sections for travelling consumers' ease. The Jooty, too, is so unique and luxurious, with its novel blend of peanuts, peanut butter, caramel, and chocolate, that consumers won't mind a little splurge in order to indulge.

So, vending machines make a good business. So does our extensive line of candies. Combined together, our wares make a pair that can't be beat. And that is why you should include our candies in your vending machines. Not only can our products distract robbers from their machine-robbing, but they can also compete with the best brands for fat and sugar content, and they aren't worth their high vending price. Give my request a try and soon you may see the difference in your loyal, hungry customers' desires to buy.

<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Sincerely, Oliver Bachmann, Owner of Jolly Jooty Candy Company