Brand Strategy for Cadbury Eggs

In 2004, the percentage of people who in some way limit their diet for health reasons is substantial; many are vegetarians or vegans and refuse to eat eggs. Obviously these people don’t make an exception for any particular *brand* of egg, but, if you think about it, there’s one brand that really should be exempted from herbivorous prohibition: Cadbury.

See for yourself. Check the ingredient list for a Cadbury egg and you’ll find, as I did, that these are not actually ‘eggs’ in the strictest sense of the word. They are, basically — and no disrespect toward Cadbury or their products or the nutritional value of their breakfast products is intended — just candy. Syrup, chocolate, goo, etc. And yet this is neither widely known nor actively advertised. As far as John B. Consumer is concerned, Cadbury Eggs are just one among many entries in the chicken egg category. What happens if we change that?
I say let’s find out. I’m guessing the effect will be major. Make the large vegetarian/vegan subculture aware that there’s an egg on the market that they can actually eat, and you’re bound to see a huge surge in sales. Veggies *want* to eat eggs! They just can’t because it grosses them out to know that they’re slurping down little undead baby chickens. Offer them a meat-free egg, though, and they’ll go nuts — completely, totally fucking nuts.
I’m envisioning a TV spot with two friends at a diner. One of them says to the waitress, “Gimme two eggs scrambled — Cadbury — with hashbrowns and wheat toast. And coffee.” The waitress leaves, and Friend B says derisively, “Hey, I thought you were all Veggie-Man these days,” throwing scare quotes around ‘Veggie-Man’. Friend A, generously but with a touch of condescension: “Bro, it’s *Cadbury*.” Cut to the waitress setting the plates down on the table. Friend B’s eggs are standard yellow gross-outs; he takes a bite and kind of gags and chokes down the scrambled undead baby chickens. Friend A scoops up a big forkfull of steaming, chocolatie-brown Cadbury scramblers, smiles, and consumes them with a look of total ecstasy (eyes rolled up in his head, big grin on his face, fingers clawing the vinyl bench). Super runs over a shot of Friend B looking with revulsion down at his plate, his lips twisted tightly into a moribund sneer, his eyes welling with tears: “Cadbury Eggs: No chicken, just chocolate. Ain’t no lie.”