What would Tony the Tiger say about the new Frosted Flakes with Energy Clusters from Kellogg’s? And I mean the real, Thurl Ravenscroft-voiced Tony the Tiger, not the meme-spouting CGI self-parody he has become. My guess is something along the lines of:

“They’re GRRRRanulated indictments of the 21st century zeitgeist’s perplexing infatuation with ‘health-ifying’ every facet of their day, despite the tendency of producers to use puffery and buzzwords to beguile and mislead!”

Or maybe he’d just say they’re great. Tomato, to-mah-toe, right?

Either way, Frosted Flakes with Energy Clusters subscribes to the same formula as General Mills’ recent Chex Clusters and so many others:

1. Take cereal people like already.

2. Add oat clusters.

3. ???

4. PROFIT

But will these Flakes stand apart from the cluster of cluster cereals? Or will they fail triumphantly enough to inspire “Cluster’s Last Stand” parodies?

Like a high school jock to a nerd, the bold colors of the box seem to aggressively scream at me: “Hey bro! You need this energy in your life. Eat it! Now! And give me your lunch money!” And it screams at me in Spanish, too (fun fact: Spanish Frosted Flakes are called Zucaritas, which is probably in my top 10 favorite words to say. Zucaritas. Zu-cuh-RI-tas! Try it, it’s fun!).

Opening the bag and taking a whiff, I’m struck with a sickly sweet blast that smells like the Pillsbury Doughboy burped in my face; apparently “energy” is just a euphemism for “sugar rush.”

The flakes themselves are just like normal Frosted Flakes: tiny, corn-colored shavings with a powdery white coating that are as fragile as an A Christmas Story leg lamp balanced on a glass Jenga tower.

The addition here is the titular “Energy Clusters,” and they’re so small that I could count the number of oats in them on both hands. In fact, a Frosted Flakes cluster is small enough that it could probably orbit a comparatively mammoth cluster of Raisin Bran Crunch. Like the flakes, the Energy Clusters appear with a thick, snowy glaze.

And the taste? Almost imperceptibly different from normal Frosted Flakes. Like the scent, the most prominent and overbearing flavor is pure, unadulterated sugar. It’s a generic and simple flavor that doesn’t challenge the tastebuds, instead blasting them into saccharine submission. If you try hard enough, you can sense light, pleasant notes of corn and vanilla, but it’s like tasting a needle in a sugary haystack.

The teeny tiny clusters don’t add to this flavor (the characteristic earthy flavor of the oats is hidden by sugar), but they do add an extra crunch to the typically airy and crispy flakes, making the whole experience a bit more hunger-satiating. The gritty sugar feeling left in the back of your mouth, however, does require a thorough gargle of milk.

Frosted Flakes with Energy Clusters are indeed enjoyable. They would make a perfect Saturday morning companion alongside an old VHS tape of Mighty Morphin Power Rangers episodes.

But ultimately, I have to dock the cereal a few points for lying to me. The only “energy” I felt was during a brief 20 minute sugar rush (in which I sang along to the Power Rangers theme song, of course) that was immediately followed by an impressive nap worthy of the Laziness Olympics (the 100 Meter Sugar Crash, perhaps?).

It’s like the ol’ switcheroo when your mom said you were going out for ice cream, but then ended up driving you to the dentist. Except, well, this is kind of the exact opposite.

So I’m not mad at you, Frosted Flakes. I’m just…disappointed.

(I’ll forgive you if you buy me ice cream).

The Bowl: Frosted Flakes with Energy Clusters

The Breakdown: The mindless joy of a hyper sugar rush, plus an added crunch. Just don’t expect to win a home run derby (or a Kentucky Derby) afterwards.

The Bottom Line: 6 Doughboy belches out of 10