Alice strolled about in Wonderland, tired of chasing that rabbit. She was wondering when something peculiar was going to happen to her. She wondered WHEN not WHETHER because something curious was bound to happen if she stayed in wonderland.
Alice watched the clouds shift to an awful grey-purple-green color and become filled with lightning.
A giant bird, a raven of sorts, burst through the storm, dropping its charge into Wonderland.
A man fell from the heavens, making a terrible noise along the way, and landed in a pod of mushrooms.
Alice guessed the man had taken a mouthful of a mushroom when he landed, for he was shrinking at a startling rate.
She hurried over to the tiny man, now cursing with many an uttered and passionate “Blasted Bird”’s and “The miserable wretch”’s
“Oh dear!” cried Alice. “Don’t you know such language is naughty?”
“What? Ah, you’re a little girl, I see. I suppose you’re right but you must forgive me; that vermin with wings- Nevermore- just carried me away from Heaven and dropped me here! Please try to imagine the pain. I was speaking to Lenore as it lifted me away,” he said.
“Oh, alright. My name is Alice, what is yours?”
“Edgar Allan Poe, and it is a pleasure to meet thee.” He turned away as if by doing so it would be acceptable to soliloquise. “Now how am I to get out of here?”
“May I offer a suggestion?” asked Alice.
“Of course,” Edgar said, seeing her with new eyes.
“Try waking up, that usually works for me,” Alice said proudly, glad to offer some help.
“Alas, I am not asleep, I am dead. But, perhaps he might know what to do,” Edgar mused, pointing to a man peering over a giant flower.
“That’s Tim Burton. He’s always here. He has never spoken a word to me though, except once to tell me his name. He just jots down ideas in a peculiar little notebook of his,” Alice said, nearly forgetting that she was talking to someone besides herself.
“Oh. Well then, should we go through that magical portal over there?” asked Edgar.
“Why not?” With this, Alice and Edgar stepped towards the glowing doorway. “Tim, are you coming along?”
“Sure.”
“You know your words! Wonderful. Now let’s get through this door somehow,” Edgar said, straining to reach the knob; he was only a few inches high.
“Oh, why don’t you sit in my apron pocket, Mr. Edgar, that way you won’t get stepped on,” said Alice, picking up the little man.
“Thank you little miss. Now off we go!”
They walked into the door, and entered a strange land all colored in pastels. After a brief look around at the furry trees, they heard a roar.
“I am Aslan. Welcome to the land of Dr. Seuss.”