I thought I couldn’t sink lower than Skittles vodka slushies. But there I was, standing at the register in my regular liquor store, with a bottle of Stoli Whipped in my hand, simultaneously indignant (“This is for work; I don’t care what people think!) and ashamed. Eager to get home where this unholy experiment could unravel in the dark quiet of my kitchen. The plan: Make a Candy Corn Martini. It’s got the look, but that’s it, really.