Joe won't share his beach ball"" and ""Joe won't let me use his rat robots"" are just two of the complaints that Slither has for his mother. Slither can't ignore his sibling's possessiveness, and has fun either squeezing, wrecking, or swallowing the objects of his desires. But his glee is short-lived; remorsefully, he replaces Joe's things, opening the door for brotherly tolerance. The cast is a slippery bunch--bug-eyed snakes in the anthropomorphic mold, with a TV set and front porch. Chess's delight in her subject winds through every ingenuous page, rendering the familiar domestic story droll. Like the brothers, readers will have a ""hissy fit--of giggles.