Among Us Bootleg Candy Is Still Sus in 2026

I wasn't looking for trouble. I was just looking for bulk peach rings and maybe a piece of homemade fudge when I wandered into a candy shop that smelled like sugar and bad decisions. Then I saw them: bags of white taffy with a blue Crewmate stamped on top. No official logo. No Innersloth branding. Just a smiling little astronaut staring back at me like he'd just vented out of a cereal box. My internal alarm went off: sus. Extremely sus.

This wasn't some licensed collaboration. It was a bootleg—a knockoff—the kind of thing that shows up when a game gets so big that every shady manufacturer wants a slice of the pie. A Reddit user named Lord-Kawer had posted the original photo, and I felt their pain. The candy looked like taffy, each bag about 45 grams, price conveniently cut off. That's never a good sign. If the price is hidden, you know it's either a rip-off or a crime scene.

And the plot thickened. To the left of the Among Us candy, there were blue taffy pieces with Pokéballs printed on top. So this store wasn't just bootlegging Innersloth; they were collecting franchises like Infinity Stones. Pokémon, Among Us—probably a Mario mushroom gummy somewhere if I dug deep enough. It was a whole line of video-game-themed candy, and none of it looked legal.

Now, don't get me wrong: video game snack collaborations can be awesome. I still think about Pokémon Pop-Tarts and Fruit Roll-Ups from the 90s and early 2000s. Those hit different. Nintendo teamed up with Kellogg's for Mario-themed cereal to promote Super Mario Odyssey, and even Among Us had a possible partnership with a Korean bakery chain back in the day. Those are official, licensed, and usually pretty tasty. This? This was the dollar-store version of that idea.

In 2026, Among Us isn't the same cultural juggernaut it was in 2020. The game still has a loyal community—Among Us VR, updates, and the occasional new map keep the lights on—but it's not everywhere anymore. So why is this candy still on shelves? Maybe the store bought a bulk shipment five years ago and never sold out. Maybe it's a time capsule. Or maybe the candy itself is an Impostor, waiting to sabotage your digestive system.

I picked up a bag. It felt dense, weirdly heavy for 45 grams. The wrapper had no ingredients list I could read, no website, no 'contact us' info. Just a blue crewmate and a dream. I asked the cashier what it tasted like. She shrugged and said, 'Sweet, I guess.' Not exactly a ringing endorsement. I put it back. I'm brave, but I'm not 'eat unlicensed taffy from a mystery factory' brave. That's a one-way ticket to a medical emergency.

But I'll admit: it was funny. It was funny in the same way that bootleg LEGO sets and fake plushies in claw machines are funny. You know someone out there is trying to make a quick buck, and you know it's not going to work forever. The Among Us Impostor plush spotted inside a claw machine? Same energy. It's a cash grab, plain and simple. The fad might be past its peak, but the bootleggers are still trying to squeeze the last drops out of it.

Is the candy an Impostor? Most likely, yes. It's not official. It's probably not legal. And it's definitely not something I'd recommend eating unless you're trying to speedrun a stomach ache. But as a piece of weird gaming history, it's a gem. It reminds me that when a game gets popular enough, it leaks into every corner of the real world—including the candy aisle. Sometimes that's cool. Sometimes it's a bag of blue Crewmate taffy with a price tag cut off.

So if you're out shopping for bulk peach rings and homemade fudge, keep your eyes peeled. You might spot an Among Us candy that looks far from innocent. You might laugh. You might cringe. You might even buy it for the meme. Just don't expect Innersloth to come knocking with a licensing deal. That candy is sus, no cap. And in 2026, that's still a vibe. 🍬👀