Gone is the medicinal grip famous for the company; traded for a rough stitching of pineapple, orange and mango. Its haste cobbling is fortunately mostly guised by an upfront tartness, a puckering and pleasant acidity that breathes much of the only veracity into the ternion of exotic fruit forgery. The produce themselves are fogged together, acting more as an overview of three flavors, rather than allowing each savor's nuance to parade across the palate. Papaya and passion fruit almost make a welcome appearance, but the soupcon is choked off of the tongue by the leadened effervescence; carbonation not bubbly enough for the "tropical" plastered across the can. At least the thirty nine grams of sugar sweetens with respected restraint; an almost granular saccharinity that avoids any syrupiness. In the end, this is not the hit Red Bull may have needed, but at least they are trying.
Each can contains: B vitamins, taurine, and 114 milligrams of caffeine. The kick is unimpressive, lasting an hour and a half. Overall, Red Bull the Yellow Edition is a little experience: a little small, a little expensive, little taste and a little weak.