Have you ever wanted to taste Godzilla’s spines as they light up with energy, flash, and burn against the smoldering ruins of Tokyo? Have you ever thought that Godzilla’s light-up backplates were kinda-sorta like the dinner bell or the “open for business” sign at a restaurant—and you just wanted to get a taste of the flashing sign as well? I can’t speak for authenticity, folks, but your prayers (and your unorthodox stomach) have been answered with the release of the Chocolate Mini Godzilla (チョコレート ミニゴジラ) three and nine packs from Hunter Confectionary Company. (maybe… Space Hunter?)

The three pack will run you ¥600 yen and is the second-cheapest Godzilla-themed Valentine’s Day chocolate I bought at the store. The nine pack is, comparatively speaking, a steal at ¥1400 yen.

The three-pack, for the cheapskate Godzilla lover—or maybe the one on a diet.

First, let’s discuss the fancy-pants packaging—which, let’s face it, is probably the reason for most of the cost here given how little chocolate you are actually getting. Each box, both the three-pack and the nine-pack, are a shiny silver color with a military-pattern background and four-toed Godzilla footprints stomping all over them, plus “Godzilla” written in the classic cracked-rock raised font. (The silver I am assuming in this case probably indicates “money” more than anything.) The boxes are also wrapped in choco-brown ribbons with Heisei Godzillas and “Godzilla Chocolate” written in gold repeatedly, reminding you again and again that your loved one shelled out lots of extra cash to feed your nerdy appetite much more than your physical one.

The nine-pack, perhaps specifically designed for Godzilla fans who also love baseball—one for each team member.

Because, gee whiz, my G-fan friends, these choco-chomps are itty bitty! One six hundred yen box of three mini Godzillas offers you, the consumer, very little to consume. Still, they are called “mini” for a reason (and not because they look like Minilla—cuz they don’t, pardner). Let’s take a gander.

This little ‘zilla cried wee, wee, wee, wee all the way down your gullet.

The size of the choco-chomps is actually quite nice and fits the term “bite-size” so long as your muzzle ain’t as huge-mungous as Godzilla’s. And the sculpt is surprisingly detailed for being so small. Unlike the larger choco Godzilla in the Godzilla Milk Chocolate bar, this one has a more suit-accurate neck length, actual fingers, and even two feet, even while maintaining a sort of “super-deformed” aesthetic! Sure, the Godzilla Milk Chocolate bar Godzilla may be bigger, but in some ways this one is just more impressive in execution because even at this size you can see some skin texturing and a Goji-head that effectively mimics the familiar lumpy facial features of some of the Showa Goji schnozzes. Also in a novel twist, the backplates are colored with three varieties—yellow, blue, and pink. While perhaps blue is the most movie-accurate, I like to imagine that the different colors indicate the flashing of the plates right before Godzilla spits nuclear death on his unsuspecting prey. (So far none of the Godzilla chocolate figures feature actual atomic rays bursting from their toothy maws—probably because the chocolate would melt.)

Don’t worry, even with the three-pack you get all three color varieties…

A further touch of fun: the interior of the boxes showcase the monster minis with color-coded skylines—blue, yellow, and pink—as if the sky itself were flashing with the color of the monsters’ backplates. (Though unfortunately the actual Mini Godzillas are not organized in the boxes by backplate color.)

…But you only get all three skylines if you buy the nine-pack, you cheapskate!

When I saw the triple colors, I assumed that each color would have a different flavor as well—and that is where the flavor of flashing backplates finally comes to play. I figured that the blue one might be something like blueberry or maybe soda flavor, the yellow might be lemon or banana, and the pink might be peach or human flesh. However, with the first Godzilla I grabbed (I think it was the pink one), I unthinkingly popped the whole monster in my mouth and munched away—and frankly didn’t notice any particular fruity or fleshy flavor. Just mildly sweet milk chocolate goodness. I adopted a new strategy for the blue backplates, nibbling delicately with my overgrown incisors… and was rewarded with the blossoming flavor of—well, chocolate, I guess. I quick glance at the ingredients on the back lists nothing about fruity flavoring, neither natural flavors, nor unnatural flavors, nor genetically engineered flavors to combine with deceased loved ones. They all three tasted the same, no matter how fastidiously I tried to nibble.

Still, with the three different colors, I wondered if it might be possible to do a kind of stop-motion animation so that it looks like Godzilla is revving up his nuclear breath. How do you think that might look?

I guess nobody buys Godzilla chocolate for the innovative taste experience so much as the presentation, and the presentation with the Mini Godzilla Chocolates is impressive, colorful, creative, and executed well. Just bear in mind that you are mostly paying for that presentation and not the volume of the actual chocolate and you should be fine!