I’ll be honest, even though it’s been out for over a week, Toy Story 4 has not yet graced my ideas. It’s not (entirely) about it being an unnecessary sequel, and more about how I have to pee so often during movies that it leaves massive plot holes in my memory if the staff refuse to pause it for me.

And yes, I did once try to slip out to the restroom during The Last Jedi, accidentally opened the door to outside, and bathed the theater in an embarrassing flood of blinding hyperspace.

But here in the comfort of my own home, I can find cinematic relief through open relieving—all while eating cheap cereal instead of $11 kids’ snack boxes (the gummies are just so good!). So as I crack open a box of Toy Story 4 Carnival Berry Cereal, I’m forced to interpret the plot based entirely on this sensory breakfast experience.

So far all I’ve garnered is that during the film, the toys are blessed (or cursed?) with the ability to sprint across empty air—even in a five-alarm red void. Let’s hope the taste features more character development…

…and just like the third act of Toy Story 4, in which Woody reveals that Buzz was a malignant second personality all along, who would speak to him telephonically through a ringing snake in his boot, the plot twist in Toy Story 4 Cereal is that it never had any character to begin with.

While the words “Carnival Berry” may conjure up thoughts of…uh…I…can think of no real-life analogue for Carnival Berries, so it’s safe to assume Kellogg’s made the term up for this cereal—and very lazily at that. With no strand of carnie DNA in its quaintly confetti’d rings, Toy Story 4 Cereal just tastes like every other phoned-in fake berry cereal we’ve seen this past year.

The comparison with Caticorn Cereal is perhaps most apt, because it seems very likely Kellogg’s just recycled the same flavor profile in the same way that Pixar recycles mistreated-toy plotlines.

This means the cereal’s dominant flavor is “heaped sugar,” and its undertones echo a bowl of Trix that’s been left out to collect rainwater. So if no one else, I’m sure Toy Story 4 Cereal will appeal to the same kids and/or horses who eat sugar cubes as a treat—but want to mix it up with a twist of spectral citrus.

Now if you want to exorcise that splash of fruity spirit entirely, you can douse Toy Story 4 Carnival Berry in milk, which reduces the rings budget doughnut batter—creamy and sweet, but no more substantial than canned frosting plundered from a doomsday prepper’s bunker. At least Caticorn’s pieces were thicker, giving them better in-milk performance. These clownish confections just go full Pagliacci.

Outside of character-loyal kids, there’s no one I could really recommend Toy Story 4 Cereal to. It embodies all the worst stereotypes surrounding licensed cereals, from the uninspired taste and untruthful name to the bland box design and weak theming. If cereals were toys, this one wouldn’t be worth the cost of two AA batteries.

Is there such thing as a “Don’t Try Me!” button?

The Box: Toy Story 4 Carnival Berry Cereal

The Breakdown: Sugar and fake fruit are the only anti-morals to this Story. Sure, kids will scarf it down because it’s sweet, but they deserve so much better.

The Bottom Line: 2 seltzer tears out of 10