This is by far the easiest fucking dessert to make. When I didn't know how to cook...wait, let me rephrase that...when I was too lazy to learn to cook, I used THIS to fake it. Girls are good at faking things.
Shit you're gonna need:
Your favorite boxed brownie mix (Sure. Use the homemade one where you have to double boil the chocolate and sift the flour. Won't make you a better person. Just a stupid one for taking all the time to do that shit when Betty Crocker did it for you.)
1 big ass bar of Hershey's Symphony Chocolate (The picture below portrays the almond toffee version. I normally use the milk chocolate version. They didn't have my usual and this almond shit was on clearance for $1.5o. And this shit ain't cheap. I think it's normally about $2.99 each. But I assure you that it's worth every fucking penny you spend.)
The ingredients you need to make the brownie mix (oil, eggs, blah blah blah)
This chocolate is like angels landed on your tongue and poured this deliciousness down your throat. It's THAT heavenly. And yes, another symphony of angels plays while you're devouring it so maybe that's why the marketing department chose that name. But that's just a guess.
You'll also need a square pan to cook this in. This is an 8x8 or a 9x9. I have no idea. The mistake pampered chef made on their shit is that they don't put the fucking size on the bottom like Pyrex does. Damn them.
Shit you're gonna do:
Preheat your oven to 350. I'm assuming that's what it says on the box. Then stir your brownie mix ingredients together. The thing about brownie mix is that you don't need to stir the hell out of it. Just stir until your ingredients are combined. You get all american gladiator on this shit with stirring and your brownies are gonna come out all rubbery. (Learned that shit from Alton Brown. Holla!)
After your mix is...well, mixed. Put it in your pan that's been sprayed with Kitchen KY and then spread your brownie drama around.
Now, open up your chocolate bar. You'll see that it has 16 little pieces. Play your cards right and line that shit up like the picture below and you can celebrate with that last little piece. Because my little loves, you only need 15. Totally planned it that way. I always tell the hubs I don't have any leftover. That's not a lie. Because after I eat that last piece, there isn't any leftover.
Bake it for the appropriate time on the box and then my little peeps, stick your tongue way out and lick the top of that pan and tell everyone you did that so nobody else will touch this shit. Enjoy.