INSIDE THE SLIDY DINER

In as fine a game of Grossout as ever was, a child squires an anxious-looking friend around a diner in which, she claims, the cuisine runs to Pumpkin Asparagus Pie and Greasily Niblets, the floor is so slick that booths sometimes slide out into the street and the proprietor is decidedly witchy: “Sometimes Ethelmae grins at you, and you can see her tooth.” Zollars’s canted, full-bleed café scenes follow suit, with views of diners chowing down on a pig’s head, a trophy-sized cockroach fixed to a platter above the counter and basement restrooms surrounded by a flood crawling with “nefarious wigglepedes.” Still, unlike Merrilee Kutner’s Zombie Nite Café (2007), as depicted by Ethan Long, or Jane Breskin Zalben’s Saturday Night at the Beastro (2004), it’s not all bad, for “Inside the Slidy Diner, there are dark, blue secrets. / And silver whispers. / Inside the Slidy Diner there are magic trapdoors. / To birthdays and Saturdays.” Best yet, all “goodbyes have been banned!” Here’s a diner well worth repeated visits—but steer clear of the “chocolate” milk. (Picture book. 6-9)