A young housewife is cooking in her kitchen when she suddenly realizes that she's surrounded by a huge, seemingly impenetrable mess of her own making. The counter is soiled and sticky. The pots and pans on the encrusted stove are bubbling malignantly, some boiling over. It is clear that the woman is more than a little out of her league.

"This mess," she pronounces with a furrowed brow and a slight nod, "calls for Brawny." She locks the door and closes the window shutters, securing them with a wooden spoon.

"Okay, Brawny. Do your thing," she says, reaching for her trusty paper towels. Before she even touches the still-wrapped roll, a bolt of magical electricity shoots from it, zapping her outstretched arm into a giant, muscular man-limb — a remarkably veiny man-arm that looks as if its rightful owner might be The Rock.

Immediately, this new and brawnier appendage begins, paper towel in hand, to vigorously clean the kitchen top-to-bottom, seemingly of its own volition. "Whoa!" the woman screams, flying through the air, the mutant arm propelling her around the kitchen as it cleans.

Suddenly, inexplicably, there are 10 or 15 of this woman stationed throughout the room, each with man-arm, scrubbing and scouring at warp speed. They disappear as fast as they come, while an announcer rants about "scrubbing circles" and "tighter weave."

When the kitchen is spotless, the woman collapses into a chair, visibly exhausted. "I don't think I'll ever get used to this!" she says, sounding weary, but pleased. As the commercial ends and the announcer wraps things up, the man-arm (perhaps sensing previously overlooked dirt?) yanks the woman out of her chair to scrub some more.

A brightly colored banner stretches across the top of the screen in certain places on the Brawny website, exclaiming awkwardly, "Brawny, It Might Be Too Strong!"

The same can be said of this off-putting new commercial. Woman with man-arm is certainly not a pleasant sight to behold. However, the true creepiness of this ad cannot be fully appreciated until the fifth or sixth viewing, when you begin to notice the look on her face during the actual morphing process. For a split second, something akin to excited anticipation flashes across her face. You realize that she's done this before. She likes it. Add that to the fact that she closes the doors and shutters beforehand, and you can't help but wonder if she'll be taking advantage of that man-arm in a more gratifying way after the dishes have been cleared away.

Brawny, you should have stuck with the lumberjack.

— Alissa Rowinsky Wright (alissa@flakmag.com)