Review: Pop-Tarts Collab With Liquid Death Thankfully Tastes Better Than It Sounds

Drinking water is hella cool again, guys. That's thanks to Liquid Death, the sparkling water brand created by former punk musician and observant concertgoer Mike Cessario. Cessario found out the energy drinks musicians were downing on stage were actually just H2O –- which apparently wasn't punk enough to admit. Although now a proper billion-dollar enterprise, its collaborator in this venture, Pop-Tarts, needs no introduction. Now with more flavors to rank than ever, Pop-Tarts has managed to remain both relevant and in-demand, despite being around for more than 60 years and spawning many challengers, copycats, and bootlegs along the way.

This duet is a sequel to the collab between the bubbly bev and the toaster treat, which saw Pop-Tarts Frosted Strawberry change states of matter and become Liquid Death Pop-Tarts Carnage. Now we're getting a scratch-each-other's-back inverse, for Liquid Death is now enflavoring the Pop-Tart with its very own Squeezed to Death Orange.

Another collectible co-launch between the labels is also on its way. Called the Bad Morning Alarm Clock, it's an actual alarm clock, except it greets sunrise with screams, chains, and what they're calling morning "badffirmations." Available only from October 28 to October 30, those intrigued can enter by tagging a friend in the Pop-Tarts Instagram post using #PopTartsBadMorningGiveaway. Yep, the bromance between the brands seems to be in full bloom. However, let's see if the bloom is bearing worthy fruit in this instance.

At my door, I received a mysterious black box adorned with a cracked skull. My first instinct was to check if it was ticking, or if there was a lit coil hanging out of the back, "Looney Tunes"-style. There wasn't, and it was simply the special packaging for the Liquid Death-Pop-Tarts collab in question. For this, I was thankful. Upon opening, I was greeted with a man screaming. Or, rather, a tiny voice module in a box broadcasting a man's scream. Okay. We're off.

Although I was tempted to wash down the Pop-Tart with the accompanying Liquid Death, I figured I should instead keep the palate clean of Squeezed to Death Orange while trying Squeezed to Death Orange. 

I analyzed the taste, texture, and component balance –- first untoasted, then toasted. The package also suggests freezing it, which I didn't do and which, as any Nobel Prize-winning chemist could tell you, takes longer than eating it immediately. I've got places to go, man. (And one of those places might even be Dollar Tree, which apparently has a pretty solid Pop-Tart dupe called Toast'ems.)

Perhaps reading the room and realizing that the Pop-Tarts Super Stuffed offerings were a bit of overkill, these pastries are sans filling. You're getting a simple flat crust topped with a layer of frosting and speckled with tiny orange crumbles. Your brain almost signals pumpkin to you upon first sight, and may even trick your taste buds if you're not careful. As soon as you take that initial chomp, however, you'll probably have little doubt what the flavor is.

You can divide all of our species into two categories: those who prefer their Pop-Tarts toasted and those who do not. And no, I don't want to hear about any other possible human classifications; those are the only ones. Where do I fall in this toaster-based taxonomy? Firmly in the former. It's toasted, for me. I'm not even against a little burnt.

Regardless, I opened with an untoasted pastry. The aforementioned lack of filling did catch me off-guard (it was a reckless assumption on my part in the first place), but I felt it was all for the better. It's not dry, and it allows the orange flavor to really zing — almost overwhelmingly so. The thin layer of frosting is calibrated well, and never makes it feel too sugary. When toasted, the orange flavor actually becomes welcomingly muted, and the heat allows the frosting to meld into the crust ever so slightly, or at least it feels that way.

I'll admit, I'm really not a fan of Squeezed to Death as a beverage. I find the orange flavoring kind of aspartame-y, with an almost medicinal quality akin to a Pedialyte popsicle. Either be a Fanta or a Spindrift, Liquid Death. The in-between is not working for this.

With that said, those flavor notes work much better in the Pop-Tart. It's almost like the Pop-Tart spun off into the Liquid Death, not the other way around –- as with the more commendable Liquid Death Pop-Tarts Carnage. The robust oranginess just feels more at home with the pastry.

I'd say, if you're a Pop-Tart person –- especially the classic, simplified Pop-Tarts –- and you like orange-flavored things (which is not always the same as liking oranges), then give this a go. It's flavorful without going overboard, especially when toasted, and the quasi-savory-ness of the crust strikes a nice, non-treacly balance with the frosting. All in all, a solid snack, and you could do much worse for a speedy breakfast.

As the shiny gold band around the box implies, this will be available for only a limited time at participating retailers. Starting in November 2026, you can nab either the 12-count box for $4.69 retail or the 16-count variety for $4.97. (Only $0.28 for four more Pop-Tarts? Why not?). No telling where it'll live once the availability window closes. If you miss it and still want it, you might have to make do with pouring the Liquid Death onto a Pop-Tart and eating that?

As for nutrition stats, you're getting hit with 380 calories per serving (which is the standard two-pastry package). Unsurprisingly, it contains a fair amount of sugar — 26 grams, to be exact. You're also taking in a quarter of the day's carbs by the same measure, while yielding a paltry, un-Paleo-friendly 4 grams of protein. This you can remedy by putting a burger patty between two of them. If you really want to. In terms of allergies, it does contain wheat and soy.