Liquid Death is taking its patented outrageousness to new heights—literally—by launching a contest to give away a fighter jet nicknamed The Dehydrator worth about $400,000.
The sweeps, where consumers can enter as many as 400 times, is aimed at whipping up a frenzy that will drive retail sales during the key summer season for the brand’s line of still and sparkling waters and iced teas.
But another goal is to unsubtly throw shade at beverage behemoth PepsiCo, whose 1996 “Drink Pepsi, Get Stuff” campaign seemingly promised a $32 million jet as a prize but didn’t eventually deliver. (Lawsuits, countersuits and a Netflix docuseries called Pepsi, Where’s My Jet? followed.)
“We like to poke the bear,” Andy Pearson, Liquid Death’s vice president of creative, told ADWEEK. “And I’ve heard that others have had the idea to give away a jet, but no one’s ever pulled it off.”
The stunt will award an Aero L-39C Albatros, which was previously owned by the U.S. military and used for training (a vehicle with a little mileage on it was the better buy, per the brand, as new models can cost north of $15 million). The plane never had weapons capabilities, but it can top speeds of 470 miler per hour, hence its gross-out moniker.
“It can go so fast you’ll likely puke and pee yourself,” Pearson said.
A pilot isn’t included in the package, but among the loot is one year’s worth of Liquid Death, a six-month hangar rental, a branded helmet and cup holder. What the winner does with the Albatros is entirely optional, although the plane—emblazoned with the brand’s skull logo—may make some pre-giveaway appearances at air shows around the country, Pearson said.
The only requirement for entering is the purchase of a single Liquid Death product from a brick-and-mortar store, along with submitting a receipt to the company. (Example: a multipack equals multiple entries.).
Retailers will play a significant role in spreading the word about the promotion via in-store signage, and the brand will roll out more content, in addition to its debut video, over the coming weeks.
Raising the stakes
Putting together the project was “exceedingly difficult” because of the price tag and complex legalities, proving to be “a massive undertaking,” Pearson said. “It’s the biggest thing we’ve ever done.”
The program has been in the works for some time, although executives tabled the concept at one point because it felt “too daunting,” per Pearson. “But we came back to it and doubled down—we don’t like to take no for an answer.”
Liquid Death is not alone in upping the ante on sweepstakes. In its ambitious Super Bowl 2024 ad, DoorDash announced a contest that gave away an item from every ad that aired during the Big Game.
The eventual winner, a San Antonio, Texas, resident identified as Jonathan H., figured out the complicated promo code revealed in the spot from Wieden+Kennedy. He won a Booking.com vacation worth $20,000, a BMW electric vehicle, a $50,000 down payment on a house and a 30-pound bucket of mayonnaise, among other merchandise. The tally on the total package was about $500,000, per DoorDash.
Jabbing the competition
Marketing mavens like Deb Gabor see the Liquid Death program as “100% on-strategy, on-audience and on-brand” for a company that “consistently continues to titillate customers with exciting and provocative creative and messaging.”
The brash canned water startup with a billion-dollar valuation routinely jabs at other companies, from energy drinks and sugary sodas to water in single-use plastic containers, as it hypes itself as a healthy alternative and sustainable choice. It’s known for its over-the-top marketing and swag, which includes skateboards infused with Tony Hawk’s blood, a Travis Barker enema kit, a “Corpse Paint” collaboration with e.l.f. Cosmetics and an upcoming animated series based on its Murder Man mascot.
Gabor, founder and CEO of Sol Marketing, pointed to the brand recently closing a $67 million funding round targeted at expanding its distribution. Timing of the stunt is “likely designed to bring broader-based awareness and consideration of the brand, possibly with hope of expanding the footprint and paying off that $67 million investment.”
While the inspiration for the current giveaway happened in the 1990s, at the height of the so-called cola wars between Coca-Cola and Pepsi, the story continues to be fodder for business schools and media coverage.
The Pepsi Stuff loyalty promo was designed to give away T-shirts, hats, sunglasses, leather jackets and, as implied in a Super Bowl ad from BBDO, a Harrier jet. A community college student named John Leonard, citing a loophole, collaborated with investor Todd Hoffman and tried to buy the jet outright for about $700,000.
Pepsi rejected the check, with the fallout including double lawsuits and an admission from Pepsi that it never had a plane to award in the first place. Leonard and Hoffman ended up losing their court battle, with a judge ruling that “no objective person could reasonably have concluded that the commercial actually offered consumers a Harrier jet.”
The men retain the rights for the story, though, and are mulling their options in entertainment.