This isn’t a new idea. Grandmothers have been prescribing flat Coke for generations, right next to “rub some dirt on it.” I once saw a man at a carnival cure his funnel-cake regret with a warm can of the stuff. He looked me dead in the eye and said, “It’s science.”
Let’s be honest: it’s barely science. The real appeal is that a cold, sugary, bubbly drink feels like a tiny, treasonous vacation from suffering. But is it a cure or just a very delicious distraction?
