Friday, October 8, 2010

Pan the minion

Something seems to have changed in Wonderland since the last time I was here. I mean, other than my highly questionable mental state, which has been interestingly lucid for the time I’ve been chasing rabbits Either that or global warming has begun changing this world in ways our scientists could never have predicted. Eyeing the chunk of ore steadily dissolving in the simmering lake of acid suspiciously, I continued picking my way gingerly over the spider web of wooden planks crisscrossing the dark, dank mine. Towards the tiny figure running on two stubby legs, the large sack laboring his jog sufficiently for me to catch up.
“Yes! Got you at last! Now you have some explaining to do!” The gnome shivered in my vise-like grip, his eyes dull. “Our land is destroyed; our spirit crushed,” he intoned. “Reminds me of the asylum. Is there no joy here?” For that was true. All through my chase, all I could see were depressed miners, forlorn miners, morose miners, and…more depressed miners, their arms swinging against the rock walls perfunctorily, the very light of life seemingly burnt out of their eyes by the endlessly backbreaking work they were forced to toil at. Definitely unlike the cheerful land of, well, wonder I chanced upon ten years ago.
“Slavery and happiness do not dwell in the same house…” the gnome muttered, bringing me out of my reverie, wriggling out of my grip. Just then, Chessur materialized before me, watching the gnome scurry off. Frowning, I said, “Wonderland’s become quite weird. How is one to find her way?” “As knowing where you’re going is preferable to being lost, ask. Rabbit knows a thing or two, and I, myself, don't need a weathervane to tell which way the wind blows. Let your need guide your behaviour; suppress your instinct to lead; pursue Rabbit!” “How simple you make my life,” I sigh at his disappearing visage, running further into the mines. One torch bearing gnome, seeing me run past, remarked sadly, “Stir up no trouble, stranger! The Red Queen’s agents are ruthless.” Pausing before him, I spat, ”I’m not afraid of her or her creatures! Never was, really. You should stand up to her!” “Defiance is useless. While the Queen reigns, only death can release us from this misery.” “Or her death, perhaps?”
Lesson Number One: Speaketh of the devil, and the devil arriveth. No sooner had I finished bragging did an axe-wielding card guard slam his weapon into the ground mere inches beside me. Taken aback, I whirled around to see the guard shredded into a dozen quivering bits by razor sharp claws. As the guards head landed in the pool of flesh and blood which once made up his body, Chessur leapt nimbly over to land before me while I stared agape at his radical transformation. Now bipedal, his body rippled with bulging muscles, and each paw boasted four five-inch long claws, dripping with blood and gore.
Licking his right claws, he held out his left paw as if to shake my hand, except in it was a long, wicked-looking knife. I took it, admiring its sheer lightness and the pleasing shriek it made as it swung through the air. Throwing it in the distance, it flew back like a boomerang. Watching me play with my new toy, Chessur spoke grimly, “The Card Guards are tools of the Queen. All suits are dolts, but dangerous. Your knife will be necessary, of course, but not sufficient. Always collect what’s useful. Reject only your ignorance and you may survive.”
“Well, thank you for your overwhelming confidence in me, sir,” my voice dripping with sarcasm, watching him shrink back to a skeletal shadow of his more powerful form. “Though I must admit that the claws are a nice improvement.” Spying Rabbit bolt past, I set off in hot pursuit, only to see him magically shrink and leap through a hole just large enough for my fist to fit in.
“Oh, now what?” I grumbled. “And what might you be moaning about. Moaning never helps.” These pessimistic, ubiquitous gnomes were definitely getting on my nerves. “yes, I get it, everyone seems completely dejected, blah blah blah. Are things really as bad as all that?” “The truth would reduce you to a blubbering baby. Are you the savior that Rabbit has been tellin’ us about all this time?” “I wouldn’t hope so, or Rabbit would be the cause of all your troubles. Right now I just want to be…this small.” “Ar…calls fer some serious twistin’. Yer’ll needa go sideways, not forward. I’d be doing it if I knew how.” “Not twisted! Just to be smaller in size.” “Hurm…one in the Fortress of Doors may hold such secrets. Take more than a wish to get in there.” “Doors have locks, which need keys. Let’s hope the doors are unlocked,” purred Chessur. “Indeed…or there may be more than one way to skin a cat, if you’ll pardon the expression.” “A most unpleasant one it is. Please avoid it in the future.” “Can you get us inside the fortress of Doors?” “Oh! I wouldn’t even dare. Since the Red Queen took over we’ve all become gutless half-wits. I can’t even risk crossing the road! However...if you go deep into the mines, you will find one braver and wiser then I. He may be of some help...” Shuddering, he plodded off.
Into the hole again, we hurried along our way, into a once-glorious garden now seeped in dark decay.
Hey, that rhymed.

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