Two-inch pirates sally forth to the rescue when their cat is kidnapped by malign mice.
When Pepper Jack and his knavish crew of wall-dwelling rodents spirit off furry Jones, they leave an eloquent if nonverbal ransom note consisting of pictures of a cat and a wedge of cheese. Instantly, intrepid ship’s boy Button, matey Lily, Capt. Crabsticks, and seasoned salt Old Uncle Noggin set out from their junk-store ship in a bottle to raid the chilly realm of Fridge in the owner’s back apartment for the redolent ransom (and to restock their own larder). Neither attacks from voracious woodlice and a gigantic slobbery dog nor the slimy necessity of hiding out in a tub of margarine and a half-used can of dog food sway the expedition from its mission(s). A cutaway view of the shop at the end with labels aplenty allows readers to retrace the outing’s winding course. Festooning his simply told yarn with drawings of diminutive buccaneers (all white) in exaggeratedly swashbuckling costume amid the clutter and outsized provender of a human-sized world, Mould brings his Pocket Pirates series to this side of the briny deep in fine adventuresome style.
As Button puts it: “We may be tiny, but we’re still fearsome.” Aye to that. (Fantasy. 8-10)