Who could have guessed that the ultimate act of revenge would come in the form of peanut butter pretzels? If there was ever proof that a streaming giant has had enough of its golden goose, it’s this jaw-dropping scene from Meghan Markle’s latest Netflix series. A scene so absurd, so utterly meaningless, that it might just be a carefully crafted piece of sabotage.
In episode one, Meghan is seen preparing a guest cottage for her dear friend and makeup artist, Daniel Martin. And how does she elevate this space? Not with heartfelt conversation, not with compelling insights into her rich and full life, but by transferring peanut butter pretzels from one plastic bag into another. Genius. Utter genius. Netflix, I see what you did there. You had one job: fulfill the remaining contractual obligations. And oh, did you fulfill them—with style. You greenlit this knowing full well that audiences would watch, not because they admire Meghan’s hospitality tips, but because they can’t look away from the slow-motion trainwreck. Hate-watching is still watching, after all, and in the grand scheme of things, perhaps even more profitable.
But let’s get back to the crime scene—um, sorry, I mean the kitchen. Picture this: Meghan Markle, once a senior royal, once standing on the Buckingham Palace balcony with the Queen, now performing a high-stakes mission of snack decanting. A scene that could have been lifted straight from a satire skit—except it’s real. Netflix, in its apparent glee, decided that if Meghan wanted her own show, she would get exactly what she asked for: a bland, cringe-worthy spectacle that proves once and for all that, without a carefully curated PR strategy, she has very little to say.
She decants pretzels. She eats out of the bag before gifting them to her friend—because sharing is caring. She moves plastic into more plastic in a show that probably cost millions to produce, and we’re supposed to be inspired. The true hilarity lies in the details. That pantry? Not hers. Those snacks? Clearly staged. The entire setup is as authentic as an influencer’s hashtag morning routine. Nothing screams “down-to-earth” like a rental home stocked with camera-friendly snacks, hand-placed for maximum relatability.
One has to wonder: Did Netflix know exactly what they were doing by airing this tragicomic display? They’ve effectively ensured that Meghan will never land another serious deal again. Who in Hollywood wants to work with someone whose crowning moment in television is rearranging store-bought snacks? It’s almost poetic. The same woman who sought royal fame to launch a media empire is now the star of an unintentional comedy about pantry organization.
And the best part? Even her most loyal fans apparently hated it. Reports suggest that even handpicked supporters found the screenings unbearable. Imagine curating an audience of your biggest devotees, only to have them leave the theater in secondhand embarrassment. Oh, Meghan. From duchess to court jester, from royal engagements to snack arrangements, Netflix didn’t just throw you under the bus—they gave you a first-class ticket, front-row seating, and complimentary pretzels for the ride.
