Crumb Run

Somebody left breakfast out. To six runners the size of a teaspoon, that is a racecourse: past the cereal box, through the toast rack, round a bowl the size of a stadium, down the tablecloth where it has slipped off the edge, across the floor past the cat's dinner, and back up the breadboard to do it all again.

Crumb Run is a top-down foot race in the spirit of the old micro-scale console racers. Every runner has one trick on a cooldown — Zip's afterburner, Brick's ground pound, Lou's yo-yo that reels her past whoever is in front, Gus's slab of melted butter, Bea's bubble, Fen's leapfrog — and the course is built to make each of them matter. Spilt milk sends you sideways, jam glues you down, gumballs hand out sugar rushes, bouncy balls and wind-up mice, and the open edge of the table is exactly as far down as it looks.

Win the Teaspoon Cup and the Dessertspoon Cup opens; win that and the Ladle Cup is waiting, where the field runs as fast as you do and uses its tricks like it means them. Nobody is slowed down to keep you company. The cat is asleep. Mostly.