Dear Lynx

I’m quite a laid back person and not usually the sort to complain but I do have a slight grievance which I feel I must share. I’m writing this from inside my prison cell after a rather interesting week. One day I’m sure that I’ll look back at this period in my life and will mutter to myself “Those were the days” whilst stifling a knowing smirk. Until that day I will have to make do with writing this feedback, in the hope that others will read this and avoid my current predicament. Let me give you some background first.

During my teenage years Lynx was my preferred method of covering up the smell of stale sweat, both on myself and in my bedroom. I still shed the occasional tear for those that have been taken from us by your ruthless marketing department. The days of Voodoo, Touch, Phoenix & Pulse are long gone and my life has never been the same since. I vividly remember the day I went into Superdrug with exactly £7.96 in my pocket, just enough to purchase 4 cans of Lynx at a very reasonable £1.99rrp.

I cheerfully greeted Simon, the sales assistant, with a spring in my step and noticed that he was giving me a particularly wide berth. I put this down to the fact that I bought 4 cans of deodorant on such a regular basis and concluded that I would probably also avoid a smelly teenager until he had applied the aforementioned reasonably priced bodyspray.

I approached the Lynx display and reached out towards the black tins of salvation as I had done thousands of times before. I was trying to select a track on my minidisk at the time (a sign of my age here) so was relying on my well trained muscle memory to do the work for me. I grabbed air. Concerned, I looked up towards the display.

Before my gaze reached the sacred shelf I saw Simon diving for cover behind the cashdesk.

“Curious” I thought.

I now understand his actions. As I turned back towards the display, ignoring Simon reinforcing his position with sandbags improvised from packs of nappies, I noticed that all my favourites had gone. All they had was Lynx Africa.


Simon let out a blood-curdling scream; he knew what was coming next.

“I HATE LYNX AFRICA” I bellowed towards the now petrified Saturday boy. “WHY MUST THEY INSIST ON PUSHING THIS RUBBISH ON US? LITERALLY NOBODY LIKES IT” I shouted as I started smashing up the shop, blinded by rage.

Simon poked his head up from behind his rudimentary fort

“The sales rep came in yesterday. He said they are rebranding Lynx and that the scents you have grown to love are being discontinued and replaced. I meant to tell you as you walked in but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. I remembered what happened last year when our delivery was late. Edith still hasn’t been able to leave her house”.

“BASTARDS” I screamed at the top of my voice and ran out the shop, salty tears flooding my eyes as the anger subsided and was replaced by sadness. From that day on I vowed to never use Lynx again. I have been brand-hopping in search of a new favourite ever since.

Right Guard was too 80’s, Sure too sporty and Nivea too girly. I thought I was destined to a life of misery. This brings me to my complaint. About a year ago I went into Superdrug and greeted Simon, now the Assistant Manager, before he reminded me that due to his unexplained PTSD and nervous disposition that I’m not allowed to speak to him anymore. He then walked towards the back of the store, his trembling hands grasping a cocktail of prescription medications.

Then I saw it. A shiny display unit emblazoned with the words ‘New Lynx Attract. For Him and Her’. I picked up the tester and cautiously sprayed a tiny amount into the air, expecting it to be rubbish.

I thought I was in heaven. I grabbed as many cans as I could carry and ran straight to the till, adrenalin flowing through my veins and filling me with glee. I thought I heard Simon crying, as he so often does these days, but then realised that it was me who was crying. Tears of joy danced down my cheeks as I barged through the queue of pensioners before me. The first ambulance had arrived just as I had found a way to carry 9 carrier bags at once.

Lynx Final Edition

I ran home and dusted off the battered suitcase under my bed that I used exclusively for keeping Lynx in. I had intended to throw it away that fateful day but could never bring myself to it. I thanked God that I hadn’t. The aroma of those we have lost, mainly Phoenix, filled the air. I briefly allowed myself to reminisce before snapping myself out of it and filling the suitcase to the brim with Attract for him.

I couldn’t wait to try it so I hastily called my friends and arranged to go out that evening. Just before I left my house I took a whole can of Attract and emptied it over myself in one. I was too happy (and possibly slightly high on solvents) to stop. The effect was almost instantaneous.

As I was walking down the road I noticed I was getting much more female attention than usual. A glance here, a cheeky wink there and even a peck on the cheek from a lady I walked past. As I walked towards the pub a mass of women ran straight over a busy dual carriageway to get to me. They were screaming like they had been possessed by Lucifer and it seemed that they would stop at nothing.

A bus braked and turned sharply to avoid the incoming masses, falling off a bridge and landing on a newly opened orphanage in the process. This didn’t seem to deter them one bit. I won’t go into detail but lets just say that I didn’t make it to the pub that evening.

The next 10-11 months flew by in a blur of Lynx induced euphoria. Then I started receiving letters from the Child Support Agency. Just a couple to start with, then a few more arrived the following week. Then one day Pat and Jess opened the back door of their van and emptied the entire contents onto my driveway.

It seems I may have inadvertently fathered several hundred children thanks to your product. Durex is also going to receive a strongly worded letter but I thought I would start with the root of the problem first.

I earn an average wage and yet somehow I have amassed a £28,500 weekly bill in child maintenance. I am unable to afford such an amount and offered to pay £20 a week for the 27,787 years it would take to pay off the £26,676,000 debt.  The unreasonable people at the CSA rejected this and I am now serving 18 years in prison.

My friends have sent me a gift to pass the time in prison. Unfortunately it is a can of Lynx Attract for Her. After what has happened previously I have decided not to use it as Tiny, my ironically named cellmate, may get the wrong idea.

I’m not after any financial compensation from yourselves, just a clearer warning on your packaging in future.


Mr Disgruntled


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