Charles Barkley, Taco Bell
Let me start by saying I like you, Charles Barkley. Growing up, I watched you go to work in the paint nightly as a fierce rebounding force for the Philadelphia 76ers and the Phoenix Suns. You're one of those players I wished could have won an NBA championship. Now you're one of the most engaging basketball analysts on TV. And you appear to be genuine off the court — one of the good guys. But, Charles, don't ever do anything like this again.
From the very beginning of the Five Buck Box Taco Bell commercial, you don't look comfortable. You walk from some dimly lit boudoir to a gym locker that transforms into a phone booth that leads onto a fake urban street. During this long, tortuous journey, Taco Bell thought it would be a great idea to let you rap. (And let's be honest: you're not known for your enunciating skills.) TB also decided to create a run-up commercial showing you "writing the lyrics" to what became the Five Buck Box rap. "What rhymes with lots?/ Socks? Tiny jocks? Goldilocks?" you ask. The answer is not one of those words. You even lament in another excruciating ad in the Five Buck Box series that the meal deal was a "turrible idea" until they "let you" endorse it. You should have gone with your gut, Chuck, because TB let you hawk the cheesy gordita anyway. "That is lots and lots in just one box/ And it's only five bucks/ And that's why it rocks." Absolutely none of that rocks.