Welcome to Snackland—a chaotic world where food is alive, ridiculous battles rage, and portion control is the enemy. At the heart of this madness is Obesseus, a slam-powered, snack-fueled hero who doesn’t know the meaning of moderation.
Born from buffet glory and raised on cheesy fries, Obesseus is loud, over-the-top, and completely unbothered by consequences. But when Monica Mango and her shady health faction begin plotting to take over Snackland, fun is under attack—and Obesseus isn’t having it. From explosive jellybean traps to mind-bending math puzzles set by Professor Math, Obesseus must fight through food-themed chaos to defend what matters most: flavor, freedom, and seconds.
Joined by allies like Conflicted Tomato and the always-late Grant the Grapefruit, Obesseus unleashes the ultimate food fight in this outrageous origin story. Whether he’s battling a broccoli uprising or belly-slamming through bureaucracy, Obesseus proves that being “too much” is sometimes just enough.
Packed with humor, heartburn, and wild adventure, The Mighty Muncher kicks off the Slam-Fu Series in absurd, unforgettable style.
Welcome to Snackland—a chaotic world where food is alive, ridiculous battles rage, and portion control is the enemy. At the heart of this madness is Obesseus, a slam-powered, snack-fueled hero who doesn’t know the meaning of moderation.
Born from buffet glory and raised on cheesy fries, Obesseus is loud, over-the-top, and completely unbothered by consequences. But when Monica Mango and her shady health faction begin plotting to take over Snackland, fun is under attack—and Obesseus isn’t having it. From explosive jellybean traps to mind-bending math puzzles set by Professor Math, Obesseus must fight through food-themed chaos to defend what matters most: flavor, freedom, and seconds.
Joined by allies like Conflicted Tomato and the always-late Grant the Grapefruit, Obesseus unleashes the ultimate food fight in this outrageous origin story. Whether he’s battling a broccoli uprising or belly-slamming through bureaucracy, Obesseus proves that being “too much” is sometimes just enough.
Packed with humor, heartburn, and wild adventure, The Mighty Muncher kicks off the Slam-Fu Series in absurd, unforgettable style.
Obesseus waddled toward the buffet line with the confidence of a champion and the grace of a pancake.
His belly bounced with each step. It made a soft squish-plop-squish sound that echoed through the festival grounds like a living drumline. He wasn’t just hungry—he was happily, hopelessly, hungrily hyped.
“Three dumplings… no, seven! Wait, twelve! Yes. Twelve sounds snacky,” Obesseus whispered to himself, licking his lips so hard he spun in a circle.
This was the greatest day of the year in Buffetland: The Great Dumpling Festival.
Steam rose from bamboo baskets. Sauces shimmered in tiny golden cups. Rice danced in the wind like confetti. It was a day for celebrating snacks, embracing sauce, and forgetting portion sizes altogether.
And Obesseus?
He had arrived at sunrise.
And eaten breakfast dumplings.
Then pre-brunch dumplings.
Then, mid-morning dumpling snacks with a side of biscuit butter are just for science.
His plate was so full it tilted sideways like a tiny seesaw of glory.
“Back for thirds already?” called Dumpling Dave, the cheerful vendor with soy sauce-stained sleeves and a deep-fried mustache.
Obesseus waved proudly, bits of rice clinging to his fingers like loyal fans.
“I’m only on third-and-a-half!” he declared. “Not even close to full!”
Suddenly, the sky changed.
A strange, sticky-sweet mango-colored mist rolled over the food stands.
The dumpling steam twisted. The sauce cups trembled. Somewhere, a cabbage fainted.
The air grew thick with citrus and… something cold.
Something juiced.
Obesseus paused mid-bite. He looked up, a dumpling halfway into his mouth.
Then—
A voice rang out like a thunderclap wrapped in smoothie foam.
“BUFFETLAND… YOU HAVE BEEN LIVING A LIE.”
From behind the dumpling tents, a massive floating platform emerged—carved from frozen banana peels and powered by spinning mango slices that glowed neon orange.
Atop it stood a figure—tall, poised, and pulpy.
Her suit sparkled like a peeled citrus rind.
Her boots were made of blended kiwi leather.
Her eyes? Hidden behind oversized, heart-shaped pineapple sunglasses.
And her voice? Cold-pressed, no sugar added.
“Your stomachs have betrayed you. Your sauces have made you soft. Your minds… clouded by steam.”
The crowd froze. Dumplings dropped. A hush fell like powdered sugar.
Only Obesseus squinted up at her, tilting his head like a confused turnip.
“…M-Monica?”
She removed her sunglasses slowly. Her gaze locked onto him.
Monica Mango.
The former snack buddy.
The once-fun, fruit-loving festival-goer who used to share banana tempura and laugh at Obesseus’s burps.
Gone.
Replaced by… this.
“Hello, Obesseus,” she said. “Still dripping dumpling juice on everything you touch?”
Obesseus blinked. His lip quivered.
“You… used to like dumpling juice.”
Monica stepped forward, the platform hovering closer.
“I used to like a lot of things. But then I blended the truth.”
“Now I see it clearly: Buffetland is bloated. You are the problem. And it’s time to… detoxify.”
She raised her hand. A cult-like cheer erupted from behind the tents.
Dozens of figures marched out in lockstep—each wearing bright yellow uniforms stamped with a stylized juice box logo: The Juice Regime.
One soldier wheeled out a massive sign:
“NO SOLIDS ALLOWED.”
“JUICE OR JAIL.”
“DUMP DUMPLINGS, EMBRACE THE BLEND.”
Obesseus stared, jaw slowly lowering like a drawbridge of sadness.
“But… Monica. You said dumplings were the only food that ever understood you.”
Monica frowned. Her voice cracked—for a second.
Then she turned cold again.
“That was before I was reborn… into pulp.” She raised a mango-shaped scepter. The Juice Regime aimed smoothie cannons at the buffet tables.
“Dumpling Festival… is over.”
The smoothie cannons began to hum.
The Juice Regime aimed their blenders like bazookas. Bright orange lights pulsed from their fruit-packed nozzles. Somewhere, a pineapple was spinning.
“This is your final warning,” Monica Mango announced, standing tall on her mango-powered throne. “Surrender your solids. Or be juiced.”
Obesseus looked down at his dumpling. Then up at the crowd. Then back to Monica.
He blinked.
Then… he shoved the entire dumpling into his mouth.
CHOMP.
“MMmmmMMMMMMMmmmMMph—NO.”
Juice troops gasped.
Obesseus chewed dramatically, puffing his cheeks like a hungry chipmunk going through a breakup. Sauce dripped from his chin.
Then he wiped his mouth on his sleeve, raised a finger like a heroic jellybean, and shouted:
“NOBODY TAKES THE DUMP-DUMPS FROM ME!”
He charged.
Sort of.
More like wobbled with determination, arms flailing, his belly jiggling like a pudding with purpose.
“FOR SAUCE! FOR SOLIDS! FOR—OH NO—STICKY GRASS!”
His foot slipped on a rogue noodle. He tumbled forward, rolled three times, and accidentally knocked over three Juice Regime soldiers like bowling pins.
BONK. BONK. SPLAT.
“Oops! I meant to do that!”
A cheer rose from the buffet crowd.
Dumpling Dave ducked behind his booth, stuffing spare trays into a gravy cooler.
“Obesseus! You’re inspiring people! Also, take this!”
He tossed a giant ladle.
Obesseus caught it—barely—and began swinging it like a slow-motion nunchuck.
“LADLE STYLE: BELLY BOP MODE!”
SPLAT!
He launched a glob of sauce right into a smoothie cannon. It fizzled and popped.
“That’s right! You want flavor?! TAKE IT!”
Suddenly, the crowd surged with energy. Kids threw meatballs. Someone catapulted a baguette. Even Crusty the Breadstick yelled, “GET OFF MY LAWN, YOU FRUIT NERDS!”
But the celebration didn’t last.
Monica Mango scowled.
She raised her scepter.
“Enough playing with your food.”
Then she fired a mango shockwave that exploded the dumpling tables. Bamboo baskets flew everywhere, and sauce rained from the sky like a savory storm.
The crowd scattered. Obesseus was thrown backward—belly-first into a giant rice pot.
THUMP.
He sat up, dazed, with a grain of rice on his nose.
His smile had faded.
“Monica… why’d you go all sour?”
Smoke rose from the buffet booths—thick with ginger steam and mango mist.
Tables were overturned. Sauce dripped from the trees. Someone’s noodle cart was spinning in circles like a confused turtle.
Obesseus sat among the wreckage, blinking slowly.
He looked around. The dumplings… were gone. His plate… cracked. Even the soy sauce fountain had run dry.
“This… this is the worst festival ever,” he mumbled, hugging his ladle.
Then he heard it:
“LET ME GO! I’M A VENDOR, NOT A VILLAIN!”
Obesseus turned.
Dumpling Dave was dragged away by two Juice Regime goons wearing orange gloves and scowling hard down the food trail.
Dave kicked and squirmed, holding his bamboo steamer like a shield.
“These dumplings are innocent! I steamed them with love!”
Monica Mango hovered beside him, completely unfazed. She examined a dumpling with tweezers as if it were a toxic object.
“Fried. Filled with carbs. Dipped in unregulated sauce. Just as I thought.”
She tossed it over her shoulder. Obesseus caught it without thinking.
“HEY! That was a triple-mushroom one!”
Monica spun around. Her eyes narrowed.
“Obesseus… you continue to chew in defiance.”
He slowly stuffed the dumpling in his mouth while maintaining eye contact.
CHOMP.
“MMMmmm. Your dictatorship tastes jealous.”
Her smoothie cannon arm twitched.
“You had potential once. You could’ve joined me. Been… blended.”
Obesseus stood, sauce-smeared, ladle raised.
“I don’t wanna be blended! I like chewiness! I like slurpiness! I like snacks that hug my teeth!”
She sighed.
“Then chew on this.”
She motioned to her guards.
“Take him too.”
They lunged.
Obesseus swung his ladle wildly—bonked one in the shoulder, accidentally hit himself in the forehead, and somehow flopped right into a vat of leftover rice pudding.
SPLASH.
As the goons reached for him, Dave shouted:
“RUN, KID! FIND THE GRAVY GATES! TELL—AAAGH!”
BOOM.
A smoothie cannon fired. A net exploded over Dave. He was yanked into a mango-shaped prison pod, still clutching one lonely dumpling.
“Noooooo! DAVE!” Obesseus cried, pudding dripping from his ears.
Monica stared down at him from her hovering throne.
“You want your little buffet back? Then stop running. Surrender. Join the Juice.”
She vanished in a swirl of citrus mist, her army marching behind her.
And just like that… the dumpling festival was over.
Welcome to Snackland where the buffet is under threat. This place needs a hero and fast! Enter Obesseus, a burp-fuelled powerhouse of few words who may be limited in the thinking department but he has a whole lot of heart and courage (although there's an argument to say that this is mainly propelled by his love of dumplings rather than any altruistic mindset).
A book written with middle graders in mind, this is all a bit bonkers. Fruit and vegetables are enemies, all with witty, descriptive or alliterative titles. There is also a Professor Math who wants to divide any unity and split the inhabitants into rival factions (or fractions). All are keen to gain control of Snackland but all have underestimated the determination and ultimately, appetite of Obesseus!
This is action-packed. As Obesseus manages to munch his way to victory in one conflict so another one arises and the stakes get higher. Obesseus is an action hero, reacting to his circumstances in anger at possibly having his favourite foods taken away. He is impulsive but it seems to work, his gung ho attitude is just what Snackland needs in order to stem the aspirations of evil fruits and vegetables in their bid to control its inhabitants and what they eat.
Obesseus is at times more than just an heroic tool but rarely: his blunt caveman impulsiveness leads him to speak like an angry toddler especially when he is enraged and about to launch himself at an enemy. There are interactions with other characters when he is calmer which flesh him out a bit (pun unintended) but he feels more construct than character. That said, in a book of this type, that works.
I found Tucker's writing witty and engaging and full of puns and although there's not a lot of plot development - baddy comes along, Obesseus pushes back, allows new threat in, Obesseus combats them, etc - it's presented fluidly. There is a comic book feeling to it, similar to the books by Dav Pilkey, and this sort of narrative would lend itself well to a graphic form.
I liked it.