Tottering on the plank, keeping an eye on the piranhas, milk in pocket, a rope ladder hit his shoulder. He refused the pirate queen’s offer of a steady job because he has to get home and give his children breakfast (being a good father, he never forgets that this is his real mission for one moment during his very peculiar adventures). He landed in a pirate ship (the craft and its crew reappear in Pirate Stew). (No pictures of them because they are too scary with all the protoplasm dripping off their arms and big soft flabby bodies.) When he refused, he ran for the exit, ignored the sign, opened the door and was sucked into the space continuum. Green globby people who have too many eyes and tentacles and not enough fingers and toes sucked him up into their spaceship and demanded he sign over the planet to them for remodeling. He eventually comes home with the milk, with a long explanation for his lateness, which he insists on telling his son and daughter. Dry would not be as bad as with orange juice, but it still unacceptable for breakfast. Toastios and orange juice would be weird. The “hero” is a dad (author Gaiman) who would rather hide behind his newspaper mornings until he’s had his tea than go out to get milk when there’s none left for the cereal. More dreary weather forecast for the Northeast this week… Time for a tale to lift the spirits that’s completely unbelievable with illustrations to match, a pretty rousing collaboration between Neil Gaiman and Chris Riddell.
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