And now the conclusion to Not Quite Alice‘s Mad Tea Party . . .   If you missed part one, see here.

I’m not exactly sure how it happened really, it just did. One moment, everyone is enjoying the party, and the next thing I know, it’s chaos. No, that’s wrong. I can tell you what went wrong. Hatter and the March Hare, that’s what went wrong. I made sure they didn’t know about it, that everyone’s invitations said to keep mum about it, yet somehow, they still found out. I’m completely laying the blame at their jam covered feet.

Those two always liven up a party.

It was a nightmare. That god forsaken doorbell kept ringing, and yet no one seemed to hear it. I tried to ignore it, but alas, it was blasted annoying. It wouldn’t stop, and yet I know I do not have a doorbell in this garden.  It feels as if I’m tipping the scales in favor of being mad. Oh I hope not.

Just as I started to try very hard to ignore the dratted doorbell, I saw the look on Caterpillar’s face. He was about to go off on a rant. I could see it coming. Oh please, not now Caterpillar, not now.  Oh, this is not going to be good.  I best go try to intervene. I can only guess what Rabbit said to him. Oh no, it’s not Rabbit. How did the one Twin get to be next to him? I swear he wasn’t there a moment ago.  Why is he bumping his stomach into him? Caterpillar does not like being touched.  And there he goes, his face just changed to red.

“Who are you to be touching me? Do not touch me you child. You shall see my wrath if you continue.”

As he spoke, you could see the pieces of spittle flying out of his mouth, as well as the puffs of smoke he was blowing into the Twin’s face. This ended up blinding the twin. Yes, a bumbling fool became more of one due to being blinded by Caterpillar’s spit and smoke.  Trying to wipe his eyes, he bounces right into Caterpillar again, who kicked him away. This caused him to fly into Rabbit and the table. Rabbit took off at a run. To where, you might ask. Nowhere in particular, just around the table, but boy was he in a hurry.

Run, rabbit, run!

At this point, I’m still hearing the doorbell; I cannot take it anymore and have to find it.  I leave the chaos of the blinded twin and startled Rabbit behind and start looking. I go to the gate, where anyone might logically think to find something, yet nothing is there. Weird, even the door of the gate is no longer there. How odd.  So I start around the cottage (yes I live in a cottage, it’s a step up from a shack, and I don’t need a mansion).  Again, nothing there. Wait, that’s not true, there are footprints there, but those could be from anyone.  I best leave those alone and keep looking.

As I continue looking around the other side of the cottage, I hear the noise coming from the garden at an increasingly louder pitch, and with more of a sound of hysteria attached. This shall not be good at all. I give up hope of finding the dratted doorbell sound, and now the missing garden gate, and start walking faster towards the garden, after all, I was told ladies do not run, just walk at a much faster pace.

And then I saw it, pure and utter chaos in the form of Hatter and March Hare. Blast it all. Bullocks, this was not suppose to happen, and at my Unbirthday party. I started seeing red, lots and lots of red, like the color of the blood that was about to flow from those two.

Why was this going to happen? Oh, you would feel the same way in my shoes. My cute dainty pumps. Actually, you look like you wouldn’t fit them, so I best not use that phrase, instead I’ll say if you were in my place. Yes, if you were in my place, you would want to spill their blood too.

What I saw as I reentered the garden was unbelievable.  The Caterpillar was so enraged; he was bright red and sputtering like a boiling tea pot. The Rabbit was still sprinting around the tea table, but now, it looked he was having balance issues. He kept slipping and sliding, like he was on one of those funny slip n slide games. And his vest is now covered in jam. I know I hid that jam too. Goodness me. This is not good.  The twin is still bumping into everything, wait, no; he stopped, and now he is rolling around like a large awkward ball.  He is going to hurt someone, if not himself.

Further down, you see the White Knight sound asleep. Thank goodness for miracles, sadly that’s where it ends. The Carpenter and Walrus are in the middle of a serious row. In fact, my lovely scones that I worked so hard on, are being flung across the table as weapons. They’re not weapons, they’re food. So flaky and moist and just dying for some clotted cream. Not to be launched as projectiles.

Wait, these aren’t oysters, they’re scones – bah.

Right in the middle of all of that, I hear some yelling.

“Clean cup, everybody move down. Clean cup, I need a clean cup.”

There’s Hatter, yelling for a clean cup, and he’s literally pushing people out of their chairs. Ok, I admit that there really are not many left in their chairs, just the White Knight. Sadly I have been mistake, he’s now out of his chair, and sleeping on the ground. Hatter is sitting in his place, drinking his tea.  March Hare is right beside him tossing jam like it’s confetti at Rabbit, wait, no that’s stopped, he’s now throwing it at flying scones. Jam is landing on everyone and everything.

Oh goodness, there goes Caterpillar, he’s leaving, well and also leaving a trail of smeared butter, cream, and jam. So that’s how Rabbit looked like he was having balance issues, but how did butter and cream end up on his feet?  That will have to stay a mystery for now I’m afraid as I don’t have time to deal with all these mysteries as well as the growing chaos.

I do mean chaos too. There is a trail of jam, butter, and clotted cream leading out of the garden, as well as it being smeared everywhere. I have scones flying across the table as if they were grenades.  The Hatter and March Hare are now dancing on the table, why, I’m not really sure, but again, that’s a mystery I cannot solve at the moment, no time. Rabbit is sprinting around and around and around my table while sliding every which way thanks to his butter and cream covered feet. Over there is the White Knight, sound asleep with a blanket of discarded food and condiments on top of him. I don’t see how this could get more out of hand.

“Not Quite Alice, what is the meaning of this? I thought you had invited me to a tea party, not the circus.”

This party bites.

Bullocks, it just got worse.

“Hello Duchess, I’m so pleased you could make it, won’t you take a seat?”

I knew I should have listened to Alice, and not held a tea party on a day ending in Y.