Invariably, I choose the pick n' mix - less bits that can get stuck in my teeth and distract me during the film, see. And then I regret it, because I usually have eaten most of it before the film starts. I then spend the remainder of the running time a) Sweating profusely, and wishing I hadn't eaten all those sweets, and b) Suppressing a panic attack about the dirty public germs I just fisted down my throat, and worrying that I might get the runs.
Here's a brief guide to some of the selections you'll find in any pick n' mix display.
This is the baseline of the pick n' mix; a traditional, sensible, sweet, of the sort a grandfather might enjoy - first sucking off the sugar candy, before feasting on the laxative liquorice within.
Also, "comfit" sounds like it's short for "comfortable fit", which is somewhat appropriate, given their resemblance to suppositories, their bright hue suggesting Willy Wonka has moved into the anus medicine business.
"Grandfather, no! Those aren't your comfits!"
They don't taste much like cola, when you think about it, but if you need your thirst quenching, and you're in an environment where liquids could prove troublesome - such as outer space, or a roller coaster, or a bouncy castle full of troubled youngsters - then these could serve an important practical purpose, probably.
Also, have you never wondered why the cola bottles appear to be half empty? Or half full, depending whether you're one of those people who can somehow remain optimistic, when some dirty train station tramp has drunk half your Coke.
Kids, nevertheless, are the real target audience, making them a gateway drug for alcoholics: "Ooh, look at me. I'm drinking a beer. I'm a fabulous drunk, like father".
Also, look at the size of the head on those things. CAMRA wouldn't stand for that.
When you think about it, these are basically a working class version of wine gums. Its a miracle hipsters haven't yet brought out gummy craft beers, in miniature mason jars.
However, the most unfortunate contribution to history made by the jelly fried egg is that they appear to have pioneered mixing foam with gummy. This technique has been largely adopted by Haribo, for its so-called "Star Mix" - which have the taste and texture of pork pie aspic that has been left out in the sun.
Except! Get a load of this: there's an unsubstantiated urban myth that artificial banana flavour is actually based on the taste of a real type of banana called the Gros Michael - or Big Michael (ha ha) - that was all but wiped out in the 1950s, due to a fungal outbreak. True.
Please come back, Gros Michael.
What does it taste of? Blue. It just tastes of blue.
Fortunately, the confectioners of yore granted us that wish, with these cheap-tasting contrivances in the shape of hammers, saws, and paintbrushes.
Incidentally, is there a reason that pick n' mix chocolate tastes so bad? Does it contain some chemical, which prevents it from going off? Or an anti-bacterial agent to protect against the filthy claws of the countless children who don't have the common decency or upbringing to use a scoop, who mouth-breathe onto the sweets while delving their bum-stinking fingers into the edible treasures?
Oh, how sweet they look, how milky they must taste, coated as they are with a thin film of white powder which might be the result of some manner of yeast infection. Of course you'd make sweets from those.
"Grandfather, what do your gums taste of?"
"Strawberries, my child."
"<LICK LICK> Ugh! No they don't. They taste like ham!"