Reporting Live from the Blood-Slicked Carpet of a Pop-Up Gone Wrong
LOS ANGELES — I am currently crouched behind an overturned Tyson 2.0 branded rolling tray while a man in a mesh tank top screams into a half-eaten microphone. Moments ago, Mike Tyson himself allegedly bit off part of a customer's lip after the guy loudly declared the Tyson 2.0 “Mike Bites” edibles were “weak AF and tasted like La Croix made out of regret.”
Security has locked the doors. The DJ is still playing Eye of the Tiger. And I think I just saw Ric Flair crying near the merch table.
“He said the ears didn’t slap. Mike showed him what did.” — On-site witness
The event was billed as a “Taste the Power” promotional launch for the new Tyson 2.0 Cherry Punch Knockout Edition Mike Bites, a 10mg-per-piece, ear-shaped edible that supposedly delivers “iron will with a gummy chill.”
What it delivered, according to several visibly disappointed fans, was “mid-tier flavor, soft body high, and the creeping realization that you spent $35 on four rubbery ears with less THC than a gas station pre-roll.”
The Attack: Chronology of Chaos
At approximately 3:37 p.m., a customer — later identified as @WeedLordBenji on Instagram — took a sample bite, frowned, and declared to the crowd:
“This shit’s just fruit snacks for boomers. I ate four and still had anxiety.”
Tyson, who was standing six feet away taking photos with fans, reportedly turned slowly, walked over, and said, “What’d you say about my ears?” before lunging forward and removing a significant portion of Benji’s bottom lip with his mouth. No warning. No sound. Just a horrifying “schlurp-pop.”
I saw it happen. I dropped my vape pen and screamed. Someone vomited into a Death Row Cannabis gift bag.
Emergency Response and Corporate Spin
Tyson’s PR team immediately released a statement, handed out as printed cards by a trembling intern in a Cookies hoodie. It read:
“Mike deeply respects consumer feedback. Sometimes, feedback must be absorbed physically to be fully understood. Tyson 2.0 is about strength, legacy, and full-contact flavor.”
A follow-up email clarified the ears are “made for daily microdosers” and not intended for “clout-chasing Gen Z critics who can’t fight.”
Meanwhile, Benji was airlifted to Cedar-Sinai. His OnlyFans is now gaining subscribers by the minute. A GoFundMe titled “Lips for Benji” hit $12K in two hours.
The Vibes: Blood, Boof, and Brand Delusion
The rest of the event has not been canceled.
A woman with a Lil’ Baby x Tyson 2.0 collab hoodie just offered me a CBD churro while posing with a foam ear hat. The Tyson 2.0 booth is still selling merch, pre-rolls, and “bite me” bumper stickers next to a broken touchscreen kiosk playing a looped sizzle reel of Mike shadowboxing while chewing edibles like beef jerky.
“This is what cannabis needs,” said one event rep. “Intensity. Consequences. Combat gummies.” He then handed me a sample pack labeled “Ear Today, Gone Tomorrow.”
I don’t know if I’ve been drugged. I don’t know if this is marketing genius or psychosis. But I can still hear Benji screaming faintly from the back of the ambulance:
“They weren’t even Indica, bro…”
Final Puff
This isn’t product promotion. This is a cautionary tale wrapped in gelatin and marketed through trauma bonding. If Tyson 2.0 wanted attention, they fucking got it — via oral assault and an edible product that hits like expired Flintstones vitamins.
Somewhere, a regulator is having a stroke. Somewhere else, a brand manager is pitching “Knuckle Dusters” as the next SKU. And here, in this blood-splattered event tent behind an abandoned Westfield mall, the line for free samples has never been longer.
Boof du Jour will continue reporting from the frontlines of cannabis capitalism until the next edibles launch results in blunt force trauma. Stay sharp. Stay skeptical. Keep your goddamn lips to yourself.