Shark Drank

As ABC Studios films its 16th season of Shark Tank, a reality show glorifying the parasitic relationship between venture capitalists and aspiring entrepreneurs, producers are promising a season full of unexpected pitches and jaw-dropping surprises. One contestant, however, already has the investment community talking, long before his episode is scheduled to air.

From gasoline-powered autonomous vacuum cleaners to theme parks where inebriated guests pay to wrestle alligators, you’d think The Sharks have seen it all. But former pharmaceutical scientist turned soft drink company founder Dave Kneller has shown them something truly unique.

Kneller appeared before The Sharks in their television studio made up to look like a lavish office that’s often hosted the phrase “You don’t have to like it, just know it's good for your career” to pitch his new soft drink in the hopes that one Shark would invest in exchange for a portion of his burgeoning company’s equity. At least that’s how this usually works….

“Hello, Sharks!” said Kneller at the filming. “My name is Dave Kneller, and I’m here to tell you about FizzyBee Elixirs; a honey-based, carbonated beverage I’ve developed to be sustainably and ethically sourced from renewable materials, cruelty-free, and not to mention deliciously refreshing!”

In attendance were the usual Sharks: Mark Cuban, Barbara Cochran, Daymond John, Kevin “Mr. Wonderful” O’Leary, Lori Greiner, and Robert Herjavec.

“But you don’t want to sit there and listen to me drone on about it,” continued Kneller to a couple of chuckles from The Sharks. “I think these samples will create all the buzz I’ll need!”

“Okay,” said Kevin O’Leary, “that’s enough with the bee puns.”

“Oh beehive yourself,” retorted Herjavec.

“Well let’s see,” said O’Leary, “if you really do catch more Sharks with honey…”

The clever wordplay that captivates Shark Tank audiences week after week was interrupted when stagehands delivered each Shark a tray holding a twenty ounce bottle of Kneller’s amber-colored concoction and a glass of ice.

“Well, I’ll try it,” said Barbara Cochran, “but I don’t think I can invest in this type of business right now. I made a big stink about some things and from what you're saying about sustainable this and cruelty-free that…. I’m sorry, it just seems a bit too liberal for me, you understand.”

“Don't worry, Barbara,” said Mark Cuban. “Those are just buzz words.”

“I think I might pass on this too,” said Lori Greiner. “Carbonated beverages seem like a man’s product, so I wouldn’t know anything about them. Besides, I don’t think it’ll sell on QVC. But thank you for the samples!”

Each Shark poured themself a glass of FizzyBee and took a drink.

“Oh my god,” said Cuban as his entire face seemed to pucker. “I’m sorry, but that’s not very good at all.”

“No,” agreed Robert Herjavec. “I’m sorry, I just can’t see myself investing in this.”

“Oh, you’re not investing in the drink,” corrected Kneller. “You’re investing in the antidote.”

“See the problem is it’s too sweet,” said Daymond John. “It’s straight-up cloying. You want a drink to be a little sweet, but this is just too overpoweringly sweet.”

“Well, yes,” admitted Kneller. “I had to make it excessively sweet to hide the taste of the toxin I laced it with.”

“Well there's your problem,” said John.

“Wait, hang on a second,” interjected Herjavec. “Can we circle back to the antidote thing? Antidote to what?”

“Listen, I’ll level with you guys,” said Kneller. “I’m not here to sell honey-flavored beverages. All I really developed was a toxin that will kill you slowly and painfully unless you receive the antidote, which is quite well-hidden.”

“So is this an old family recipe?” asks Cochran, “or did you come up with the formula for this on your own?”

“There's no recipe or formula,” says Kneller. “I just mixed a bunch of honey into apple juice, added the toxin, and ran it through my SodaStream.”

“Well what’s proprietary about this toxin anyway?” asked Cuban, leaning back in his chair. “What’s to stop me from, say, hiring a bunch of chemists to figure out the antidote without you?”

“You can do that,” said Kneller, “and they’d probably succeed. But not until long after you’ve succumbed to it.”

“Let’s talk brass tacks,” said O’Leary. “What kind of valuation are you seeking today?”

“I don’t know,” said Kneller. “I just figured I’d give the antidote to whoever gives me the best offer. It’s slow acting, so you can take your time. I look forward to hearing from you.”

With that, Kneller turned and walked out of the studio.

“Wow,” said Cuban, “total power move. Horrible beverage though.”

“I actually think it's pretty good,” said Greiner, taking another sip.

That was all a week ago and since then Dave Kneller has been asked to return to the Shark Tank studio for a follow-up.

“And not a moment too soon,” says Kneller. “By now they should be at the stage when their finger and toe nails start falling off. Some may have even progressed to losing bladder and bowel control.”

We asked if Kneller felt any remorse in poisoning several beloved television personalities.

“Oh, of course not,” says Kneller. “I mean, some of them seem like nice people who genuinely came up from nothing, but no, in reality they're all just rich one-percenters perpetuating the lords-and-peasants system and I don't feel bad about gambling with their lives to make a point.”

And what point exactly is that?

“I just want to make them admit that being alive is more important than their wealth,” says Kneller, “and for the world to see them say it. Then maybe the other oligarchs will learn to value our lives with the same gusto, see that all life is worth more than profits.”

But does Kneller really intend to watch The Sharks die a painful death on national television?

“I mean, we'll see,” says Kneller. “Once they've learned their lesson I might just give them the antidote, I don't know though. Could go either way if I'm being totally honest….”

Kneller enters the studio and finds himself once again before the panel of Shark Tank’s judges.

“What, no puns today?” asks Kevin O’Leary right off the bat. “No ‘nice to bee back’ or ‘hi honey, I'm home’?”

“No,” replies Kneller, “I'm only here to field offers today.”

“Well, I have to say,” says Lori Greiner, “that we've had some interesting pitches on this show before, but yours might be the most interesting pitch we've ever had!”

“I’d say I aspired to ‘interesting’,” says Kneller, “at the very least.”

“So I'm going to kick things off,” says Mark Cuban. “You're not going to be able to do this without a Shark who knows how to scale, distribute, and, most importantly, get stores to give you the shelf space you need. And I could give you all that. I'm willing to offer you thirty thousand dollars for ten percent of your equity.”

“Wait, I–”

“I think I could do a little better,” says Daymond John. “How does fifty thousand for thirty percent work for you? And for that extra equity you'll get a shark who knows the retail industry and how to take FizzyBee to the next level.”

“I'm sorry, I don't–”

“I’m going to make things a bit easier,” interrupts O’Leary.

“Yes,” says an exasperated Kneller, “please do.”

“I'm willing to give you a hundred thousand,” says O’Leary, “but as a loan with thirteen percent interest and no equity. Once the loan is paid off, you will have the option to either give me a ten percent share in the company or a payout equal to twenty percent of what the company is worth at that time.”

“Okay,” says Kneller, scratching his head, “so first of all I don't see how that makes anything easier. Secondly, you want to buy the fake soft drink company? You realize I just made that up right? Also didn't you all hate it!?”

“I actually didn't mind the taste,” says Greiner. “I drank like three more bottles after we cut.”

“Okay,” says Kneller, “so you of all people should be making me a rather sizable offer like seven minutes ago.”

“I was actually going to ask Daymond if he'd like to go in with me,” says Greiner. “What do you say Daymond? Thirty thousand each and we split forty percent?”

But before John could answer, Kneller interrupted.

“Are none of you seriously going to make an offer to buy the antidote? You do realize you're all going to die very soon without it?”

“Yeah yeah yeah,” said John, waving a hand with only two fingernails, “we'll worry about that later. What really won us over was your unorthodox pitching style.”

“It took a lot of moxie to poison us like you did,” says Barbara Cochran, who, in addition to also missing several fingernails, also seems to be wearing a diaper.

“Definitely a bold move,” says Cuban, “and an excellent marketing strategy. We can sell the FizzyBee beverage at a fairly low cost, maybe tweak the recipe a bit, and then sell the antidote for a sizable profit.”

“You’ve all seemed to learn the wrong lesson here,” says Kneller. “I don't want to poison the general public only to sell them an antidote at an exorbitant markup! I wanted you to learn that money isn't more important than human life!”

“Well that's a pretty poor business decision,” says Greiner, brushing some hair out of her face only for it to fall off in a clump, “and I don't know if I want to be in business with someone who makes such shortsighted decisions.”

“Yeah, I don't see how you'd come to that conclusion at all” says Herjavec just before coughing blood into a tissue.

“Wait, I think I see the problem here,” says O’Leary. “David, do you even want to be an entrepreneur? Because I think, like the rest of your generation, you just don't want to work anymore. But we're going to meet you halfway. I think the best thing for us to do is buy your company outright. The brand, the formula, the antiwhatever, all of it.”

“I'm game,” adds Cuban. “I propose we each chip in one-point-five million and buy FizzyBee outright.”

“I can do that,” says John.

“I'm in too,” says Herjavec.

All the Sharks nod and agree to the offer.

“Well okay then,” says Cuban, “if you accept, that's nine million dollars and we gain full ownership of FizzyBee.”

“No, none of you are getting the point,” says Kneller, “it's not about the comp– okay, wait, how much?”

In the end, Kneller took the deal that will enable The Sharks to manufacture, distribute, and profit from a cloyingly sweet, toxic beverage and its overpriced antidote. Rumor has it the drink will soon be available in all Panera Bread locations (with a warning label of course).

“Yeah, I feel pretty bad about taking the deal,” laments Kneller, “but I couldn't say ‘no’ to all that money. I really wish my attempt to ransom their own lives back to them had worked out, but this is alright. I can do some good things with that seven-point-five million.”

$7.5 million? What happened to $9 million?

“Oh, I cut ‘Mr. Wonderful’ out of the deal. And by ‘cut him out’ I mean I just didn't give him the antidote,” says Kneller. “I mean, I had to do something to ease my conscience, you know?”

Okay, well fair enough.