The mice at Rumperton Farm, tired of being chased away from the pantry by the domineering lady of the house, mold a creature out of garbage, with housefly eyes, to destroy the threat. But their newly created hero, Billy Houseflies, gets ripped up by a cat and collapses in the barn, only to be discovered by Becky, the lady's daughter. She heals Billy's gashes and fixes him up with hazelnut eyes (changing his surname), invoking the jealousy of Eugene, Becky's scorned suitor, who assumes that Billy has muscled in on his territory.

This is only the beginning of the action in Tony Millionaire's new comic book Billy Hazelnuts, which also involves eye plucking, size modification, an epic sea battle, and a skeleton made out of a meat grinder. Then Billy turns on Becky, as man-created (and mouse-created) monsters often do.

The weirdness of the book hits you at first glance. Becky and Eugene are children, but dress like adults; Billy looks doughy and deranged. And Millionaire really wants you to pay attention to their scary, scary eyes. Only Billy's move, and then only when they are live houseflies. Becky's white circular pupils are drawn high in her round, completely black eyeballs. Eugene's eyes are simple blank ovals.

This is not laziness on Millionaire's part; besides the inexpressive, empty eyes, his frames are packed, sometimes distressingly so, with details and shading. But just as the action threatens to become overwhelming, it quietly implodes—the last 10 pages are subdued. The frame that stays with me shows Billy submerged to his nose, black, empty eye sockets filling the panel. His silent helplessness and obvious remorse are a haunting end to the earlier chaos.