by Lotus Rose
They hear her muffled screams go on for several seconds more, before going silent.
The Cook stares in shock at the eerily silent donut hole. “She was such a good cook,” he mutters to himself. “We could have worked together.”
Malice says, “It’s tragic. But she chose to join the dark side of pastry.”
“She destroyed everything good about her cooking,” the Cook says while shaking his head.
The giant donut hole begins to vibrate. Now it wobbles. It rolls off the platform, then into the forest on to a destination unknown.
“Sweet rolling doughballs!” the Hatter exclaims.
“Where do you think it went?” Malice asks.
The Cook says, “I have no idea. She was dealing with dark culinary forces that are unfamiliar to me. Let me untie you, so we can get out of this cursed place.”
After being untied, they look inside the cabin and find the fairy’s brother being held inside a bird cage.
They return to the tree stump, and Starfrost and her brother experience a joyous reunion. Starfrost is no longer wearing the Collar Donut of Control. It has broken and fallen away.
And so Malice, the Mad Hatter, the Cook return to the castle. Malice requests cheese sandwiches, cut diagonally, for lunch.
Chapter 45
Malice usually goes to bed around 9, but tonight she stays up late in order to visit the Tweedledee hybrid a few minutes before midnight. She isn’t exactly sure why the Storyteller gave her that helpful hint, but she has an idea centered around the peashooter.
On Opposite Day, the correct way to blow on it will be in the opposite direction as what the arrows indicate. She’s not sure how that’ll help her, but she’s put on a wristwatch so she’ll know when midnight is coming.
The Cheshire Cat’s floating head glides alongside her as she approaches the area twisted Tweedledee has settled into.
The Hatter had offered to come along, but of course, due to the Rules of Story, Malice must confront her opponent one-on-one.
The area the new Tweedledee has claimed as his new home is a circular clearing he had made inside a large field of pea plants, which she grabs a handful of peas from.
She peers in, standing amongst the plants on the edge of the clearing. This is what she sees:
Torches upon stakes in the ground, are placed all around the clearing to provide light.
Tweedledee is not asleep as she had hoped. He’d obviously been watching the plants that gave away her movement, because he’s looking right at her.
He looks like the regular pudgy young man he was before, except his clothes are fancier and more old fashioned—he wears leggings and an embroidered tunic. They’re the clothes of a prince, though he is hardly stunningly handsome, like fairy tale princes tend to be.
Behind him is a bed in the middle of the clearing. Unlike the Pea Princess’s highly-stacked bed, it only has two mattresses as far as she can tell from the thickness of it beneath the blankets.
Tweedledee points. “Malice! I’ve been waiting for you to come hop in my bed.” He gestures at it behind him. “I have transformed into Prince Tweedledee. I shall be your prince and you shall be my princess. We shall get married and live happily ever after.”
Malice steps out from the pea plants. “Not bloody likely!”
As if to accentuate her point, the sky fills with numerous tendrils of lightning, creating a bright flash of light as bright as the day, before the light subsides and the boom of multiple thunder claps sound out so loud they shake the earth.
Malice jumps from being startled by the chaotic cacophony, and is more than a bit puzzled by it all.
Fog suddenly drops down upon her from above, rolling in front of her toward Tweedledee, who watches it approaching with a frown. “Bugger me,” he says.
In the distance, a wolf howls.
And it suddenly occurs to Malice what is happening. She yells up into the air, “Confound it, Sleepy B! Knock it off with the fog. I can barely see as it is.” She feels a few light rain drops patter on her shoulder and cheek. “And no, no, don’t you dare make it rain! You’ll put out the torches!” The raindrops stop and the fog begins rolling away.
“Who’s Sleepy B?” Tweedledee says.
“Oh, just some bratty, wannabee storyteller, who likes to overdo it on her dark atmosphere!” (She shouts that last part into the sky.)
The area becomes noticeably brighter. Malice looks up to see the moon has gone from half moon to full moon. “Nice trick!” Malice calls out. “Now let me get on with my encounter, please!”
A single bolt of lightning, followed by a thunderclap answers her.
Brat. But she does have impressive abilities and seems eager to work in cooperation with me, unlike her father. Perhaps she’d make a valuable partner after all.
Tweedledee straightens his tunic. “Hopefully there won’t be any further interruptions. Now I ask you to voluntarily get upon my bed and agree to be my wife, or we shall have to do battle.”
In the improved light, Malice now notices there are two ropes dangling from the side of the bed—one tied to the bedpost, one tied to the bed’s leg on the far end.
She says, “Do you intend to tie me to the bed?”
“It is what I want to do with my wife, yes. Then I wish to cover your body with peas. Oh, please be my princess?”
“What?! Bollocks to that! We shall have to battle.”
The Cat says, “Yes, show that creepy pervert what for.”
Tweedledee beckons with a creepy grin upon his face. “Come then, we shall duel with my battle pillows.” He beckons behind him, where there are quite a few pillows atop the bed.
The Cat chuckles. “He wants to have a pillow fight! How delightful!”
Malice says, “You’ll have to forgive me, my little prince-wannabe, if I choose to opt out of your pillow fight. I want to see if this peashooter lives up to its name.” She slips a pea in the bottom of the straw, making sure the arrows point away from her.
“Peashooter?” Tweedledee says.
Malice blows. The pea shoots out with a loud pop, similar to a gunshot, but not quite as loud. The pea misses Tweedledee and hits some of the pea plants behind him, causing several plants stems to be sliced, so they fall to the ground.
Tweedledee cringes. “Jumping jelly beans! It’s like a gun!” He dashes for the bed, reaching out for two of the pillows.
The Cat is cackling, enjoying the show.
Malice aims for the center of Tweedledee’s back. She fires another pea that strikes the back of his left shoulder. He lets out a yelp of pain as he’s slammed forward into the bed.
“Your aim is improving, My Queen.”
Tweedledee turns around, holding two large pillows in front of him over his upper and lower body, as if they’ll protect him.
He lets out a roar and charges.
Malice fires another pea, aiming for his chest behind the pillow, figuring the projectile will easily slice through. It strikes the pillow, knocking him backward about five feet and off his feet. He’s getting back up. “You’ll pay for that!” He shouts.
She feels panic surging inside her, as she realizes the pea didn’t penetrate the pillow.
Are they magic pillows?
Tweedledee, with another war cry, charges again, and Malice panics, hastily firing another pea. It strikes a glancing blow against the edge of the top pillow, knocking him back a couple steps, but he quickly recovers.
With shaking hands, she attempts to insert another pea, but she fumbles and drops the tube. Reflexively, she looks down at it on the ground.
She looks up just as a pillow slams into the side of her head. The other pillow slams into the other side of her head, stunning her. The pillows are much harder than regular pillows—they feel as if they’re filled with sand.
She feels two more blows coming down on top of her head and she’s too dazed to even defend herself as a flurry of blows send her reeling and the next thing she knows, she’s lying on the ground, diz
zy, unable to focus her eyes on anything.
She feels she is about to pass out.
The Cat yells, “No, My Queen, get up!”
But she can’t. She feels arms lift under her own arms and now she’s being pulled and dragged along the ground.
She is too dazed to even struggle. “Stop,” she whimpers.
He throws her onto the bed. He pulls at her wrist and ties a rope around it. Soon her hands and legs are tied to the four ends of the bed.
She looks up at the blurry stars that seem to be spinning.
“Ah hah! You’re caught now, my future bride,” Tweedledee says. “I’m gonna get that fancy peashooter of yours, darling.”
Several moments pass, during which she regains her senses somewhat. She pulls at her bonds, attempts to curl her hands to untie the knots.
Tweedledee reappears, looking down at her. “I wouldn’t even bother trying, sweet pea. Those are unloosenable knots, impossible to untie. Hey, look, I got it.” He holds up the peashooter and waggles it. “I grabbed some peas too. I wonder what it would do at short range.”
“Let me go this instant!” She thrashes around.
“Why would I do that? You are to be my bride, and you’re right where I want you—tied up upon my bed so I can cover your beautiful body in glorious, wonderful peas!”
“I shall never marry you!”
“You better, or you’ll be sorry!”
An idea pops into her head as to how to save herself. It is almost midnight. The bell toll will announce midnight, and the start of Opposite Day. She has to be careful to get the timing right for her plan to work. She shouts, “Even if you threaten to shoot me with the peashooter, I wouldn’t agree to marry you.”
“Hmm. What a good idea. Let’s test that, why don’t we?” He looks down at it, noting the direction of the arrows. He places a pea inside the bottom. “I’m only going to ask twice before I shoot you. Don’t worry, though. The first shot will be in a non-fatal spot. Your arm, perhaps. Now, I ask you, darling, will you marry me?” He presses the end of the pea shooter to his mouth.
From reading her wristwatch she knows she should stall some for time. “Well…” She pretends to think for several moments. “Hmmm…”
He fires a pea above her head—the loud pop makes her wince and her mechanical heart race.
“Wow!” Tweedledee says. “That pea cut through those plants like a knife. So powerful! Why I bet it’d rip your arm clean off!” He inserts another pea. “I ask you again, sweet pea, will you marry me?!” He presses the tube to his mouth and aims it at her forearm.
Malice once again reads her watch to know that she should stall, so she says, “Please, I just might, but I need a moment to think.” She swishes her mouth from side to side. “I’ve almost got my answer…almost…”
The loud bell noise of the arrival of midnight sounds—a clattering of bells that goes on for several seconds.
They wait it out—it’s much too loud to allow any conversation.
Tweedledee looks around impatiently as the musical intro gives way to the twelve gongs.
Finally, after the twelfth gong, he puts the shooter to his mouth again and re-aims at her arm.
“No I shan’t!” she yells, even though it’s now Opposite Day, so that she’s effectively yelling, “Yes, I shall!” but she’s hoping Tweedledee doesn’t realize.
“Say goodbye to your arm!” he yells. He blows into the straw. Gore explodes from the back of his head and he’s knocked backward.
Malice pulls at her bonds and the knots untie—since it’s Opposite Day, they are now the opposite of non-unloosenable knots—they are now non-holding knots.
Tweedledee lies on his back on the ground, with his legs bent backward at a cringe-worthy angle. His eyes dart frantically about, wide with fear.
She doesn’t hesitate as she rushes to him and drives the stake into his heart—he’s so out of it, she wonders if he’s even aware what’s happening.
Tweedledee dies. His eyes close, and his body goes still.
Next comes the purple glow over his body. His clothes transform back to the ordinary trousers and button up shirt he usually wears. The stake gets pushed out of his chest as it heals. The peashooter and stake vanish.
His eyes open and Malice grins down at him.
“I don’t welcome you back, Tweedledee,” she says.
“Queen Malice! I’m sorry about how I acted. I had a part of that prince inside me. Ello, Cat.”
“Tweedledee,” the Cat says back. “By the way, it isn’t Opposite Day, by the way.”
Malice says, “Well, you’re not back to your old self now. How isn’t your head?”
He feels the back of his head. “Terrible! It’s not all healed up.”
Malice grins. “Horrible! Let’s not go back to the castle, and not celebrate! It’s horrible to have you back, wretched Tweedledee.”
Chapter 46
Opposite Day always turns out to be a mucked up day in which nothing important gets done, since it’s hard to be so opposite and no one is quite sure which things go opposite to normal and which do not.
So everyone typically goofs off and has fun that day. So Malice quite enjoyed her day off from killing. It was very stress-free.
But she knows it’s very likely that Sleepy B will visit after midnight, when it’s officially, “The Day After Opposite Day”.
In her bed that night, she sits bolt upright as loud bonging bells ring out. They’re the midnight bells of a large clock tower, despite the fact there is no clock tower anywhere near. She groans and goes back to sleep.
Malice hears a whisper. “Hey, Queeny.”
Malice groans. “Why can’t you visit me in person, like normal people?”
Sleepy B shrugs. “Would have to travel, would take away from hearing F-me Shoes’ stories.”
Malice sits up and looks at her. Sleepy B is holding a wooden toy sword this time. Otherwise she looks the same, with her teased hair and heavy makeup. “What’s with the sword?”
“Oh this? It’s my vorpal blade, just like the one the Jabberwock used to have.”
“But you’re not a jabberwock.”
“I have the spirit of one, the fangs of one.” She bares them.
“But you’re not one.”
“Sheesh! When did you become such a stick in the mud? This is a dream, I can be anything I want.” She transforms into a jabberwock, holding a real vorpal blade.
Malice rolls her eyes. “You’re obsessed with monsters.”
“So what? I think they’re pretty cool. They make a lot of interesting stories.”
“I suppose.”
“So what ever happened to the Jabberwock’s vorpal blade, anyway?”
“Oh, I had it stored away, but some jabberwocks came and took it away to his family after he died, so I suppose it’s somewhere in Jabberwock Valley.”
Sleepy B reverts back to her girl self with a wooden sword. “That must’ve been when everybody thought he was dead. But he should get it back. Poor Jabberwock without his vorpal blade.” She frowns.
“Yeah, maybe he can go to Jabberwock Valley and get it back.”
“Ooh, maybe I can help him! It would be great to go to visit Jabberwock Valley, see all those jabberwocks.”
Malice says, “Absolutely not. Jabberwocks are notorious for killing little girls. They even sing their children little-girl’s-goodbyes instead of lullabies.”
Sleepy B sighs. “Yeah, maybe you’re right. You know, I’ve heard about how the Jabberwock treated Alice. You ever wondered why he never killed her?”
“Hmm. Yeah, it’s strange that a jabberwock would be so nice to a little girl. Maybe I’ll ask him about that when I talk to him…”
She squeals. “So you’re gonna appoint him as my guard?”
“Well, no promises, but I’ll talk to him. But you’re a little girl, too. What if he gives in to his jabberwock nature and rips you limb from limb?” She smiles sweetly.
Sleepy B smiles back, sho
wing she’s still wearing those fake fangs. “I’m not worried.”
“You know,” Malice says, “tomorrow I’m scheduled to go up against the Knight, who was bit by the Jabberwock head. It should be interesting.”
“Ooh, it would prove more interesting with some fog and rain and lightning!” She makes a thunder sound with her mouth while she gives a little hop.
“Yes, about that…all that lightning and thunder…”
“I wanted to show off some of my power.”
“The rain almost put out the torches…”
“Hrrmph. But it didn’t. I caught it in time, didn’t I? The point was to show you how I can help you out in your future stories. Anytime you need rain, just call out and I’ll provide it. Fog, lightning, dramatic music…I can provide it all.”
“Dramatic music?”
“Yes, like the part when you were shooting at the pillows. Could’ve used some exciting music. You know, duh duhhh duh duhnnn. Like that.”
“I don’t think you should be making music and sounds. And that midnight bonging of yours woke me up!”
“But you have to admit, it was dramatic!”
Malice says, “I admit, your powers are impressive, but you don’t need to overdo it.”
“Ah! Okay, I’ll stop the midnight bongs. You see, I’m willing to work with you. It’s more than my father would ever do, isn’t it?”
Malice gnaws at her lip. “Yeah, you’re right.”
“See? Now you’re coming around! Imagine what we could accomplish together with me as your storyteller and you as Queen. Imagine all the wonderful stories.”
“You want to take over for your father? Won’t he be mad?”
“Oh, pish posh. He’ll be fine. He’s just stubborn. There’s plenty of other characters and their stories he can focus on. He’s just a control freak. But it’s time for me to inherit some things. I’m his daughter after all.”
“He told me your parents were killed by jabberwocks.”
Sleepy B shrugs. “Yeah, but he’s always treated me like his own. And before you ask, not all jabberwocks are the same. I still admire our jabberwock. Which is why you’ve got to appoint him as my guard.” She beams a huge smile that makes Malice giggle.