A television ad for a new summer-oriented Wendy's product shows a cubicle-bound digital clock striking 3:00 in a cubicle-dense workplace.

A television ad for a new summer-oriented Wendy's product shows a cubicle-bound digital clock striking 3:00 in a cubicle-dense workplace.

"Yo, it's time for a coffee break!" excitedly emotes one of the buttoned-down worker drones. "Not quite!" pops up another.

Guy No. 2 then ducks down only to quickly pop back up now dressed in an all-white Miami Vice-like outfit. Then No. 2 smilingly says, "Let's do this, homies!"

What follows is a sort of music video in which the ethnically mixed office dweebs are suddenly transformed into a cool, white-clad boy band singing and dancing about the Wendy's treat that's got them all hopped up.

The commercial is actually pretty funny, as it sends up everything to do with boy bands.

Yet in a case of having its Frosty and eating it too, Wendy's is trying to stir up interest in its new product with this parodic self-named "posse" (on Wendy's website you can even read comically written backgrounds on the guys).

What I tried: Coffee Toffee Twisted Frosty ($2.49)

Give me a break: Obviously this Frosty Posse is encouraging midday coffee breakers to replace their afternoon joe with the allegedly semi-frozen treat that's got the gang bogusly breakdancing to the beat of their own tongue-in-cheek theme song.

Nip it in the bud: I love coffee and I love toffee, so this concoction shoulda been a natural. Too bad it tastes wholly artificial.

Instead of any actual coffee flavor, this Frosty tastes like those Nips-brand hard candies I remember sucking on as a kid. And (paraphrasing a Wendy's tagline) it's waaaaaay sweeter than fast food should ever be.

Plus my pale tan drink-ssert, which had crunched up bits of toffee candy dispersed throughout it (by far the best part), wasn't frozen at all, and nearly completely liquefied within five minutes of being served to me, even though it came with a spoon instead of a straw.

Would I eat it again?: Maybe the reason the gang is so energetically hopping and pop-song-singing is because of the 64 grams of sugar and over 500 calories in this monster. Add that to the fact that its flavors are as fake as the posse, and the answer is a resounding no.

Spot a new menu item you'd like Taste Test to try? E-mail gbenton@columbusalive.com