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Mrs. Fields Cookies chooses ejaculating robot as new logo

Desperate for customers in an increasingly anti-cookie world, Mrs. Agnes Butthole-Fields, the great granddaughter of company founder Mrs. Gertrude Butthole-Fields, has chosen to rebrand her iconic Mrs Fields cookie dynasty. Their innovative choice of new logos has some questioning whether catering to millennials is more important than community standards for decency.

Unleashing their new logo in front of a crowd of thousands, Mrs. Fields herself pulled back the tarp to reveal a 25-foot statue of a logo that could only be described as a robot aggressively ejaculating onto another robot’s face. Mrs. Fields’ new logo is not the least bit abstract nor open to interpretation. It very specifically shows the grisly moment in which a very exhausted and oily robot, having bested his rival, moves to humiliate him as a final mark of superiority that will be forever immortalized in artwork and songs throughout all future robot generations.

“Dogs often hump others as a show of dominance, but robots are generally not programmed that way outside of Thailand,” said Dr. Lacey Fahts, a world-renowned behavioral specialist. “The logo is scientifically and anatomically correct. The engineering behind the curvature of the robot penis and its payload trajectory are superb. It just seems unlikely that robots with virtually unlimited computing potential would choose such a curious way of determining rank.”

Company officials have yet to reveal what exactly the logo has in common with freshly baked cookies. Moistness? A gooey demeanor? Perhaps the robot’s slutty grimace is also the face one makes when enjoying a delicious cookie. Sources say executives were up all night attempting to invent a connection.

“I thought, my grandson is 14 and spends most of his day berating people on Reddit, what sort of corporate symbol would appeal to him? Hence, the bukkake robot logo was born,” said Carol Burgess, Chief Designer. “The penises are very now and the robots are very tomorrow. I would give it three and a half out of five stars on Yelp, which is a quite exceptional score in these modern times.

Mrs. Fields will even begin selling cookies in the shape of their ejaculating robot logo, in hopes that counterculture millennials might be more open to buying snacks that pack a little attitude.

“Mainstream brand cookies are for fucking donkeys,” said Samwise Jergensen, a millennial whose cruel parents named him after the whiniest Lord of the Rings character. “If cookies want me to eat them, they need to have an edge. Cookies need to be extreme to be seen with me and my cool friends! We don’t just let any brand into our youthful bosom. We like Mrs. Fields because she doesn’t give a shit! Her delicious robots have splooged all over society’s uptight morals. I heard she listens to The Misfits and drops acid while decorating the robot dicks on those cookies. That’s why no corporation can duplicate her recipe. They’re missing the main ingredient: Love.”

While the current Mrs. Fields, age 107, is not aware of any music made after 1947, she does drink up to a gallon of whiskey per day. She believes literally any type of alcohol will act as a natural antibiotic, fighting off decay in her aging body. It should also be noted that when Jergensen says “love”, he is referring to the extra care provided by a skilled cook with years of experience, not a physical substance.

Much like Starbucks’ slutty mermaid or Walmart’s trademark yellow butthole logo, the new logo for Mrs. Fields Cookies is seen by the company as daring but iconic. While not as progressive as Linux’s transgendered penguin logo, it’s still better than Pizza Hut’s “Hey look, it’s our name with a shitty porkpie hat on it” or Sprint’s original 1899 “werewolf with three scrotums devouring high-ranking Lutheran clergy” logo.

Mrs. Fields herself signed off on the new logo. Having survived both The Great Depression and The Great Recession, she understands what it takes to put a warm meal on the table and doesn’t mind getting a little cheeky to increase sales.

“Who gives a fat shit?” said Mrs. Fields, spitting chewing tobacco into her half-empty coffee cup. “Fuck our dignity, we’re broke as balls. If the shat upon youth of today want shiny robot dicks and Yogi Bear running a train on Disney princesses, then I’ll find a way to put it on a cookie. Ain’t no shame in earning enough money to eat. Want a lewd drawing of your history teacher on a cookie? Toss Old Mrs. Fields an extra twenty, sonny. Anything goes.”


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