The bright yellow bus, the gaggle of playful field-trippers, and even the dull gray boulders strewn over the equally dull gray lunar surface have a rounded solidity suggestive of Plasticine models in Hare’s wordless but cinematic scenes…as do the rubbery, one-eyed, dull gray creatures (think: those stress-busting dolls with ears that pop out when squeezed) that emerge from the regolith. While the rest of the space-suited class follows the teacher like ducklings, one laggard carrying crayons and a sketchbook sits down to draw our home planet floating overhead, falls asleep, and wakes to see the bus zooming off. Left behind when the space bus departs, a child discovers that the moon isn’t as lifeless as it looks. Nevertheless, the showers of crust and fruit filling look delectable, and the illustrator tucks in plenty of amusing side business and sight gags.Īn extra helping for those readers who haven’t had their fill of the general premise. The story goes on a little too long and ends in a muddle-the goo turns out to be ordinary Martian rain, but the pie Grandpa serves to his grandchildren in the final scene comes from an interplanetary shipping carton that is somehow translated into reality from his dream solution of exporting fallen pies to Earth. They’re all the fruit-filled sort in Monés’ illustrations, which are closely modeled on Ron Barrett’s work in the previous two Cloudy episodes and sandwich color views of Martian cities and citizens between earthly scenes in crosshatched black and white. Grandpa falls asleep in his chair following news reports of astronauts greeted by a shower of goo on the red planet and dreams of being there himself, helping the green-skinned residents cope with barrages of falling pies. More edible precipitation-falling not on the town of Chewandswallow this time, but Mars, and timed to whet appetites for the second iteration of the film version of the franchise.

It's raining meatballs book