Prelutsky's latest forays into freakdom are in the nonsense rather than the nightmare vein, but Prelutsky's nonsense is not the usual innocuous word play. His cast includes Adelaide, who's ""quite dismayed; the more she ate, the less she weighed""--and who finally disappears after swallowing her last crumb; Herbert Glerbett, rather round, who ""swallowed sherbet by the pound"" and then dissolves into a strange gooey puddle; witchy Gretchen concocting a repulsive stew (""two candied eyeballs, sweet and round""); and Uncle Bungle who eats a baker's yeast cake and shoe-polish pie and ends up rising and shining in the sky. Others collect pancakes, talk backwards, grow pumpkins from their nostrils, or devour auto parts--just the sort of overindulgence small children delight in. And merely to imagine Prelutsky and Chess together is to wonder who it hadn't happened sooner; to witness the ghoulish result is sheer glee.