By Mark Onchiri

In a year when indie darlings like Blue Prince twisted minds with puzzle mansions, Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 painted turn-based perfection, and Split Fiction turned co-op into cinematic chaos, one game quietly rose from the literal bottom of the heap to steal hearts: Kingdoms of the Dump. Developed by two full-time janitors working nights and weekends, this SNES-era love letter transforms a world of garbage into a sprawling, hilarious, and surprisingly poignant RPG adventure. It’s proof that passion, persistence, and a Godot engine can outshine million-dollar budgets—and it’s easily one of 2025’s most endearing surprises.

The premise is pure genius in its absurdity: an entire fantasy kingdom constructed from humanity’s discarded junk. Soda-can knights clash with bottle-cap archers. Tire swings serve as gondolas over rivers of sludge. Burger wrappers become spell scrolls, and the final boss? A towering colossus made of compacted trash bags. You play as Earl, a humble raccoon-like scavenger (think EarthBound’s Ness meets a furry trash panda), who assembles a party of misfits to stop the tyrannical Dump Lord from burying the world under eternal landfill. Along the way, you recruit allies like Princess Soda Tab, the exiled heir to the Can Clan; Rusty the sentient shopping cart tank; and Glorb, a sentient blob of expired yogurt with healing powers and existential dread.

Combat is where Kingdoms of the Dump truly shines. It’s grid-based turn-based with a delicious twist: timed hits and blocks straight out of Super Mario RPG and Paper Mario. Nail a button press as your hammer connects and you’ll chain extra damage; perfectly dodge an incoming attack and you counter for free. Positioning matters—flank enemies for bonus crits, or cluster your party for AoE support spells. Each character has wildly distinct kits: Earl’s scavenging lets him “recycle” enemy drops mid-battle into buffs, Rusty charges like a bowling ball through lines, and Glorb’s probiotic spells debuff foes with status ailments like “Moldy” (slow) or “Sour” (defense down). The skill tree is deep but approachable, letting you spec into ridiculous builds—like turning Rusty into an unstoppable pinball of destruction.

Exploration feels alive and rewarding. The overworld uses faux Mode 7 scaling for that classic SNES whirl as you sail bottle-cap rafts across toxic lakes or ride shopping-cart trains through derelict malls. Towns are layered with secrets: talk to every NPC (dialogue is sharp, fourth-wall-breaking gold—“This quest is litter-ally epic!”), smash crates for hidden recyclables, or solve environmental puzzles like redirecting conveyor belts to access new areas. Side quests riff brilliantly on consumerism and waste: broker peace between warring factions of aluminum cans and plastic bottles, expose a corrupt recycling plant run by corporate goblins, or help a depressed landfill ghost find closure by reuniting him with his long-lost pizza box soulmate.

What elevates Kingdoms beyond mere nostalgia bait is its surprisingly sharp commentary. Beneath the puns and pixel art lies a gentle but pointed satire of throwaway culture. Quests force you to confront how endless consumption creates both beauty (the kingdoms themselves) and ruin (polluted zones where mutated enemies spawn). One late-game area—a pristine “Pre-Dump” forest slowly being buried under trash—hits hard, especially when NPCs reminisce about cleaner days. It never preaches; instead, it trusts players to connect the dots while laughing at a boss fight against a sentient mountain of fast-food wrappers.

The origin story only makes it more inspiring. Lead developer Adam Marshall spent days mopping floors and emptying bins at a Philadelphia public school, then came home to code for hours with his co-dev partner (credited pseudonymously as “Sloth” from Dream Sloth Games). They started the project in 2019 using the free, open-source Godot engine—no investors, no crunch, just sheer stubborn love for 16-bit classics. “We wanted to make the game we dreamed about as kids,” Marshall said in a post-launch interview. “Something weird, funny, and full of heart.” Launch hiccups—frame-rate dips in crowded areas, occasional soft locks—were patched within weeks thanks to an engaged community. Steam reviews sit at “Very Positive” (94% from thousands), with players praising its charm and calling it “the spiritual successor EarthBound fans have waited decades for.”

Technically, it punches way above its weight. The pixel art is gorgeous: vibrant sprites with expressive animations, parallax backgrounds that sell depth, and particle effects for spells that pop without overwhelming. The soundtrack—chiptune bliss with catchy battle themes and melancholy town melodies—loops perfectly for those 25-35 hour playthroughs (longer if you hunt every secret). New Game+ adds remixed enemy placements and a “Hardcore Recycle” mode that limits item use, giving replay value rare in the genre.
Nitpicks? The early grind can feel slow if you ignore timed-hit mastery, and a few puzzles rely on obscure environmental cues that might stump casual players. The humor occasionally veers into dad-joke territory (though that’s part of the charm). At $14.99, though, it’s an absolute steal—especially compared to AAA titles charging triple for half the personality.

In a year dominated by big-budget sequels and live-service grinds, Kingdoms of the Dump reminds us why we fell in love with gaming: creativity doesn’t need flash when it has soul. Two janitors, one free engine, and six years of nights turned trash into treasure. If you have even a passing fondness for retro RPGs, quirky humor, or stories of human perseverance—both in-game and behind the screen—this is essential. 9.2/10. Go dig through the dump. You won’t regret it.