Koi to Senkyo to Chocolate – 01

A girl is hit by a car after witnessing and photographing political corruption; due to a scandal, a special student presidential election is imminent. One of the favorites to win threatens to abolish several clubs, including the Food Research Club, whose advisor is her older sister. Rather than vote for a candidate and hope their club survives, the members pick on of their own to run.

It’s true that hybrid cars are quieter at low speeds; electric cars are all but silent. But they still displace wind, and that wind makes noise. In short, we have no idea why the girl in the teaser got run over by a car when she had ample time to avoid it. As strange as this incident is, it at least had more potential than practically anything that followed the OP. Boring guy’s hot childhood friend breaks into his house, jumps him in bed, then slaps him when she sees he has a hard-on. Really? This is what you follow up a premeditated hit-and-run with?

Things get worse as wave after wave of characters load up the screen, in a potpurri of hair and eye colors. We would see up the cat girl’s skirt, but it’s whited out. Cute. They all call each other different names depending on their relationship to each other. We forget about trying to retain any of these names and focus on what they’re do — wait, why is there a beer tap in the clubroom, and why is the teacher drinking at school?

There’s a pint-sized inventor, of course. Distribution of a phallic confection leads to lame innuendo. A girl keeps repeating how another girl has big boobs. The boring guy is experiencing mild hallucinations. The leader of a club dedicated to pigging out on candy cannot eat chocolate. Why do these people need a club? Can’t they just eat candy together anywhere? No, don’t answer…we don’t really care.

Rating: 3 (Bad) (dropped)

Car Cameos: Multiple Toyota Prii, and copies of the  Honda CR-Z, plus a Prius with a CR-Z nose (Why God, why?). Other traffic includes Mazda 2, Mitsubishi Delica, Subaru Impreza, and the Suzuki Wagon R.

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