The facts
In July 2025 Jason McGowan, Crumbl’s CEO, addressed franchisees at a Provo, Utah convention center behind a retro‑futuristic logo, unveiling a “dirty soda” line tested in Canada that he claimed would lift unit volumes to $2 million, up from $1.1 million. August traffic fell 32 % year‑over‑year at the chain’s 1,000 + locations, and internal documents showed sales 70 % lower than two years earlier. At least 57 stores have closed this year and 55 franchises are listed for sale. Crumbl ended last year with just over $6 million in cash, laid off almost all HQ staff, and generated $33.9 million in net income while paying $41.6 million to owners. The company’s “Brand Excellence Team” sent non‑compliance letters to operators who refused to install $30‑$50 k soda equipment or sign a Coca‑Cola contract, threatening franchise termination. The flagship “Crazy Cousins” 32‑ounce drink contains 186 g of sugar and 840 calories; influencer Itay Shechter called it “liquid garbage,” and Dr. Mark Hyman called it a “metabolic disaster.”
Our take
Jason McGowan strutted under fucking space‑shuttle balloons and told franchisees the future was a dirty soda. The future is now, you greedy prick, and it’s a 32‑ounce cup of “liquid garbage” with 186 grams of sugar named after your own stupid fucking nickname. You didn’t just launch a metabolic disaster, you autographed the cunting thing. The buck stops with you? The buck stopped at your $50 million Provo palace with a Hobbit‑themed tree‑house, you absolute fucking clown. Meanwhile, the chain siphons a $60.3 million “management fee” to Crumbl Enterprises – the parent you also own – a robbery dressed as a corporate charge. Since 2023 you’ve funneled over $115 million in those fees while distributing $235 million to owners. You made $33.9 million in net income and handed out $41.6 million, yet cash flow collapsed to $6.4 million and you laid off almost everyone at HQ. Your response? Threaten franchisees with termination if they don’t spend $30‑$50 k on soda equipment for a product you then barely marketed – less than 5 % of your social posts featured it. “Soda Week” was the worst week in company history, and you brag about it like a trophy. The escape hatch you built is a $10 000 “de‑identification fee” plus $500 a day for trying to close a store, with liquidated‑damage threats of three years of royalties. You’ve got franchisees by the balls in a vice you forged, squeezing $500 a day from their accounts while you live in a 27,000‑square‑foot estate with an indoor sports court, outdoor amphitheater, soccer field, and a Hobbit‑themed tree‑trunk playhouse. You announced you’ll step down once replacements are found, but the insolvency crisis is already here: 57 stores dead, 55 for sale, and a sugar‑laden drink a doctor says should be illegal. You turned a cookie empire into a liquidation machine, and the only thing you managed excellently was shoveling every last dollar into your own fucking Hobbit house. The future is now, Jason – a $10 000 bill and a “Crazy Cousins” drink that tastes like bankruptcy and your spectacular fucking failure.
