BUCKINGHAM PALACE, LONDON
M argaret Kent told the Queen about the mayhem her employees had been ravishing the world with for some time. More Wonderlanders all over the world were secretly planted like sleeper cells among governments, and they were doing a good job.
All in all, the Queen’s men and women were making sure the world was going more and more insane.
“Well, I’m not satisfied,” The Queen pouted. “More. More. More. I want every child to become an orphan. Every mother to become childless. Every father to lose his family. I don’t care if it’s contradictory. Just find a way to do it.” She strolled all over the place. “I want fascism. Oh, I love that. I want every human to hate another human for being different. Not just color or nationality. I want those with crooked noses to hate those with round noses. Those who have mustaches to hate those who don’t. Do you understand?”
Margaret nodded and scribbled something down in her notebook:
Once this is all over and I get the keys, I will kill you, you stupid short and stuffed thing!
“Did you write it down?”
“Of course, My Queen.”
“But you can’t overdo it.” The Queen confused Margaret again. “The idea is to create enough chaos without turning the world into a chaotic place.”
“I am not sure I follow you, My Queen.”
“That’s because you’re stupid, Margaret. Ugly and stupid.”
I am going to rip you apart when this is over. Chop off your head and roll it all over every soccer field in the world.
“People have to see the world tumble all around them, but stay safe at the same time. Why? Because if we kill everyone, who’s going to pay the taxes, buy our products, and ask us to protect them? The key is to scare the citizens, enough to make them need us. And that’s when I will rule the world the same way I ruled Wonderland.”
Margaret squinted, listening to the Queen. It actually made sense. What was the point of everyone in the world living in pain? They needed a few wars and hassles here and there, so the others, believing the need for them, would simply do as they said.
It had been very much the Queen’s philosophy since the Wonderland days, until Alice arrived.
“Understood, My Queen. Anything else?”
“Yes, I just saw a documentary about that short man with the short mustache and short fuse of a temper.” She clicked her fingers together. “What was his name again? Charlie Chaplin?”
“Ah, very funny man. What about him?”
“Funny? No, then it’s not him. The man I’m talking about was going to kill everyone in the world.”
“Uh-huh,” Margaret said. “You mean Hitler.”
“Yes, that obnoxious little troll. I love him! Can we wake him up? I think he will fit into my plans.”
“Hitler is dead, My Queen.”
“Unfortunate,” the Queen said. “I’d have sworn he was a Wonderland Monster.”
“Speaking of Wonderland Monsters,” Margaret had to interrupt. “I have been trying to tell you about the new monster for a while, and you just don’t want to listen.”
“Not again, Margaret. Find me a flamingo that can sing instead. I am in the mood for music.”
“I think you should watch this.” Margaret turned on the TV.
All of a sudden, the Queen shrieked when she saw the Lewis Carroll man on the news. “What?” she neared the screen. “This isn’t happening.”
“Like I said, I’ve been trying to tell you all day.”
“Is he real?” The Queen’s face flushed with fear.
“It’s him.”
“But, he should be dead.”
“He isn’t.”
“Oh, my.” The Queen clamped her hands over her mouth. “This can’t be happening.”