If you loved how the pigs folded their page into a paper airplane, slipped out of their panels, and chatted in the white margins, you’ll be right at home in Chloe and the Lion. Here, the “author” and “illustrator” quarrel on the page, get fired, and even redraw the characters mid-story, while Chloe tries to get her tale back on track—just the kind of playful boundary-hopping you enjoyed when the pigs wandered between stories and styles.

When the pigs stepped outside their fairy tale and the art style shifted—panels collapsing, typography changing—you got to play detective. Black and White turns that feeling into the whole book: four seemingly separate stories run across the spreads, their layouts and art modes crisscrossing until you realize they’re secretly connected. It’s a hands-on, eyes-wide puzzle with the same page-bending thrill you liked in The Three Pigs.

If the moment the pigs escaped their tale to wander into other illustrated worlds made you gasp, Journey gives you that same breath of discovery. A girl draws a door with a red crayon and steps into sweeping, silent landscapes—canals, airships, and palaces—crafting bridges and balloons as she goes. Like the pigs’ page-to-page leaps, every turn opens a new realm that invites you to explore without a single word.

You enjoyed how the pigs poked fun at their own fairy tale—dodging the wolf, scrambling the story, and talking right to you. In The Stinky Cheese Man, Jack (your cheeky narrator) keeps interrupting, the Table of Contents misbehaves, and familiar stories get twisted inside out. It’s the same wink-at-the-reader mischief that made The Three Pigs so funny and surprising.

If the pigs floating on a paper airplane through blank space and bumping into a dragon delighted you, Tuesday will too. On an ordinary Tuesday night, frogs rise into the sky on lily pads and drift over town—through windows, laundry lines, and moonlight—told with almost no words. It’s the same whimsical, reality-slipping magic and sly visual humor you loved in The Three Pigs.