BUCKINGHAM PALACE, LONDON
“H oooraaay!”
Tom Truckle was overwhelmed by the hailing crowd staring at the screen. They all stood up, clinking glasses and smiling and congratulating each other as if celebrating an independence day.
Tom stood up, pretending to be as enthusiastic, unable to believe what he’d just seen.
Did he just watch Alice Wonder explode with that rabbit on live TV?
It seemed like it.
And it seemed normal, in a very abnormal way, to have all those lunatic guests of the Queen hail the explosion and the madness it caused. But why were people in the streets happy about Alice’s explosion?
Families congratulated each other and let out sighs of relief, as did the police officers and reporters. It seemed like Alice’s death was the best thing that had happened to them in their lives. Everyone was happy the bomb went off on the poor mad girl who’d just escaped the asylum. As long as it didn’t hurt them, it was just okay.
“And this, my fellow loons”—the Queen of England snickered into the microphone—“is just a small example of the kinds of madness we’ll bestow on this world we live in.”
Was that the plan? To drive the world mad, really?
“Enjoy this hilarious scene for a while,” the Queen said. “And then I will tell you about the ultimate plan. I will tell you about the real Wonderland Wars!” she said as if she were Hitler, brought back from the grave, and wearing a wig.