Malice in Wonderland Bundle 3 Read online

  The Cat’s floating head hovers next to her. “Take care not to fall, Queeny. I should hate to see you die before your grand adventure has even begun.”

  “Your concern is duly noted, and excellent advice, as always,” she says sarcastically.

  She climbs atop the snail shell...and the snail head. “Now let’s see what we’ve got here.”

  She and the Cat look at the same time.

  Malice exclaims, “It’s a tail! Like the rhyme. Slugs and snails and puppy dog tails!” Resting on the wall top is a fake dog tail, made of papier-mache, and sloppily painted—it’s also labeled with the words: Puppy dog tail. A metal hook is connected by a short chain to the base of the tail, and a card rests next to it, printed with the words: Don me.

  The Cat hisses, and mutters, “A canine’s tail.”

  Froud says, “A crude representation of one. Why, does it repulse you? Perhaps you have a bit of little girl in you?”

  “No, I’m all pussy cat, I assure you. So I detest the disgusting tails of disgusting dogs.”

  Malice says, “Alas, if I don this tail, it shall offend my dear Cat. So, finally, there is something I can look forward to!” She sticks her tongue out playfully, picks the tail up and presents it to those on the ground. “Shall I try it on?”

  Froud calls up, “Well, it represents what little boys are made of, so if you think the little girl within you won’t be able to bear it, nobody shall judge you.”

  Malice groans. “I think the Knight’s whole notion of what a little girl can handle is quite silly, but I shan’t argue about it this late in the game. Here, love, catch.” She tosses the tail down to Humpty.

  When she’s back on the ground, she looks at Froud with irritation on her face, and says, “Now I suppose you expect me to put that ugly thing on?”

  Froud raises his hands defensively. “Not me, My Queen. The Knight. He believes that if you are capable of donning the tail—”

  Malice raises her hand to silence him. “Yes. Yes. It’ll mean I haven’t got any little girl left in me. This is getting tedious. Look here, I shall simply do it.” She twists and fidgets some and hooks the tail. “There we are! Got it on the second go!”

  Hatter looks around. “Hey! Where did Malice go? All I see is a little doggy!”

  Malice giggles. She barks and growls while hopping around. She looks up at the Cat and barks ferociously.

  The Cat says, “You’re lucky I can see through your...disguise.”

  “That’s a nice doggy,” Humpty says and pats her on the head, which causes everyone to burst into laughter.

  “How are you faring!” the Knight shouts out. His voice sounds muffled—she looks in the direction of his yell—he seems to be peering at her through a slight gap in the seam down the center of the gate.

  “If you’re referring to the tail, I’m doing fine, but I’ve put up with quite a bit of nuisance. Can we talk now?”

  “It would be my honor, My Queen.” The gate slowly swings open with the sounds of creaky hinges and clanking chains.

  Malice gasps as she sees the Knight standing in front of them, wearing a pink frilly dress over his usual black armor.

  “Hey!” Malice shouts, with her hand on her hip. “How come you get to wear the pretty dress!”

  But the Knight only shouts out, “Come again?” for he can’t hear over all the noise from the gate. Now Malice sees that behind the Knight is a grouping of furniture inside a cave chamber. She sees a black leather couch, a coffee table, an ottoman, and armchair. Off to the left sits a wooden rack loaded with axes, swords, and at least one mace.

  But now the gate is fully open and quiet, so Malice repeats, “How come you get to wear the pretty dress, when I have to wear the ugly one?”

  The Knight seems embarrassed as he answers, “It’s part of the therapeutic treatment Froud prescribed me.”

  Everyone looks to Froud, who says, “Desensitization treatment. By actually clothing himself in the symbol of what he fears, he shall gradually become more used to it.”

  “Oh yes. Very good,” Malice says, even though she doesn’t really understand him much at all. She looks to the Knight, who seems to be avoiding her eyes. Oh well, at least he’s not covering them with his hands anymore. “I do hope you’re not going to wear that dress on our adventure, though. Proud Knight, we’ve come to ask you to go on a quest with us!”

  The Knight beams. “I am honored to be invited! You successfully endured all those things that exemplify the very essence of little boys.” He sings:

  “What are little boys made of?

  Why...

  Fire and mud, and nasty sorts of crud,

  And slugs and snails and puppy dog tails!

  That’s what little boys are made of!”

  Malice giggles and sings:

  “What are noble knights made of?

  Steel that clinks, not dresses of pink!

  That’s not what fearsome knights are made of!”

  The Knight’s mouth frowns beneath his majestic mustache. “Clever rhyming. But I assure you, my dress is only temporary, as is yours. I am glad you have passed the tests that rebuke little girls. I apologize that I am not yet rid of my fear of them.”

  “Yes,” Malice says. “I have made mincemeat of all your little tests, including the trial of the tail. Ooh! And now I must spout poetry!

  “I have no little girl inside.

  If there ever was, she’s set sail!

  For I didn’t shriek and run and hide,

  Through mud, fire, slug and now, tail!”

  She turns around and shakes her rear. The tail doesn’t wag like she’d imagined, but it does slide from side to side on the fabric somewhat. She turns back around. “There! Now that I’ve proved I’m not a little girl, will you accompany us on our grand quest for the Jabberwock?”

  The Knight slaps his hands together in delight. “Well I do so adore quests!”

  Froud clears his throat theatrically. “My good Knight, might I have a brief word with you in private?”

  The Knight looks at him, and says, “Eh?”

  “It’s concerning your therapy.” Now Froud addresses Malice and the others. “My apologies, My Queen. I must discuss something with my patient.”

  “Well, what is it concerning?” Malice says.

  “I’m afraid it’s confidential.”

  “Oh!” Malice says, “Well I shall assume you intend to help him with his phobia issue so that he can attend our quest. And so I grant you permission. But don’t dally too long.”

  A brief sneer forms on Froud’s face, before vanishing. Malice assumes it’s because he doesn’t like being bossed around, which is understandable, but she is the Queen after all, and he shall obey her, or else.

  Froud bows and says, “Of course Your Majesty. It shall be my pleasure to aid you, Your Highness. I shan’t be long, My Queen.”

  Malice thinks he might be mocking her, but doesn’t comment as he and the Knight step off a distance away and whisper amongst themselves.

  Humpty does some whispering of his own. “I do hope those two don’t take too long. This whole confounded mess has gone on quite too long already.”

  Malice gnaws her lip. “Yes. I’ve been most put upon. I daresay I’m considering calling the whole thing off out of spite.”

  Hatter says, “Well I for one can’t wait to see you out of that dress, and most definitely without that tail. It makes you look absolutely beastly! Literally!”

  Malice arches her brow at him. “You cad! You wish to see me out of this dress, do ya?”

  “I didn’t mean it that way!”

  “What way?” Malice says, feigning innocence.

  Hatter is flustered and blushing slightly. “You’re being highly inappropriate. And I don’t know what way you mean, for it didn’t occur to me. I mean, it wouldn’t have. I mean— Oh confound it!”

  “You seem confused,” Malice says with a smirk.

  Hatter says, “I meant I want to see you, not in that blasted
ly ugly dress, but in your usual black dress, that’s not overly poofy and not overly slim, but is at—oh, what’s the phrase I’m looking for?”

  “The just-right level of poofiness?” Humpty suggests.

  “Quite,” Hatter says with a nod.

  Malice says, “I should very much like my dress back on me as well. Oh, look, our friends are done tongue-wagging with each other.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  THE KNIGHT AND FROUD approach Malice and her group.

  Froud says, “I needed to assess my patient’s current mental state. He has a strong desire to join you on your quest.”

  “Splendid!” Malice says. “Now I can shuck this dowdy abomination of a dress!”

  “However...” Froud says.

  “Oh, no no no! No howevering!”

  The Knight says, “My apologies, My Queen. I’m very honored to be invited on your Most Glorious Quest, but my good therapist feels I’m not quite ready to be around you without a wee bit of help.”

  “Yes,” Froud says. “I’ve devised a therapeutic aid to ease his symptoms, until he’s used to being around you.”

  “What?” Malice shrieks, stomping her foot. “I passed all the trials! I proved I no longer have any little girl inside me! This is really getting quite ridiculous!”

  Froud says, “I know it shall be a bit of an inconvenience, but it shall only be temporary, I assure you...to ease my patient’s transition.”

  Malice cocks her head to the side. “Transition?”

  “Yes,” the Knight says. “Froud says that after a few days of being around you, that I can move on to being around you...without the hair, you know? He says I just have to ease into things, you know?”

  “No I don’t know,” Malice says. “What are you on about?”

  Hatter says, “Crikey. Without hair? You want her bald?”

  “No no,” Froud says. “Just without the hair...on her face... Oh, but now I realize we didn’t explain. We are referring to...” He points to the coffee table in front of the couch. On the table rests a book next to what appears to be a ragdoll in a dress. “The therapeutic mustache.”

  Malice looks to the doll’s face where there appears to be a brown mustache above its mouth.

  “That’s not how dolls usually go,” Hatter says.

  “I concur,” Malice says. “It seems a wee bit out of sorts.”

  “Yes,” Humpty says. “That’s hairier than most little girls’ dolls.”

  The Knight shrieks. “Little girls?! There aren’t any here, are there?” He looks around frantically—while avoiding looking at Malice.

  Froud says, “Stay calm. Remember what we discussed about the irrational thoughts of panic.”

  “Yes, yes.” The Knight nods. “During our sessions. I remember. Take deep breaths, you said.” He takes some deep breaths.

  The Cat zooms in next to the Knight and cries out, “Look! There! Where did that little girl even come from?!”

  The Knight lets out a shriek. “Don’t toy with me! I have a condition!”

  The Knight takes some more calming breaths as the Cat chuckles.

  “Come, I’ll show you,” the Knight says, and he walks over to the table. An armchair sits next to the couch. Behind the couch, about twenty feet away, is a wooden door set in the stone walls of the chamber. Next to the armchair is a ottoman. A short distance away from the furniture is a wooden stand where various knightly weapons such as swords, axes and maces are set up.

  Malice looks down at the doll—a child’s toy in a flimsy blue princess dress. It has buttons for eyes, and its mouth is stitched in yarn. Above its mouth is affixed a lush, brown, curvy mustache that is too large for the doll’s small face.

  The Knight explains: “We’ve been using it during my therapeutic sessions, to gradually get me desensitized.”

  The Cat chuckles.

  Froud says, “The doll is a stand-in for a little girl. When we first began, he couldn’t even look at it without screaming.” He chuckles.

  The Knight says, “We used to do therapy sessions right on that couch there. I’ve grown more comfortable with the doll. The next step was to remove the mustache and get used to her without it.”

  The Cat says, “Next step would be a dead girl, then a real live one,” which gets a lot of glares.

  Hatter says, “So that’s where he would perform all his fancy psychiatric mumbo jumbo on ya, aye? Yeah, he tried a bunch of fancy so-called therapy on me too, but he did it back at my place, not here. Because why would we do it in here?”

  Everyone is used to his craziness, so they just give him polite nods.

  “Oh look!” Hatter exclaims, and he kneels next to the ottoman. “It’s this storage box Froud keeps next to him whenever he interrogates me!” He rests his hand on it.

  “Don’t!” Froud shouts.

  Hatter laughs. “Don’t worry, doc. I won’t open it.” He looks to the Knight. “He never tells me what’s in it, forbids me to open it. He do the same to you?”

  “Aye,” the Knight answers. “I have no idea what’s in there.”

  Froud says, “And since it’s private, it’s none of your concern. It’s important to respect boundaries. But we’re not here about me, are we? We’re here to help my current patient, the Knight. So please, fill Malice in on what I have proposed...”

  The Knight clears his throat. “Yes, well, uh— I know that you passed all my trials, My Queen, so it’s irrational to fear you, but the phobic part of my brain still has a grip on me, I’m afraid. However, I’m sure I just need some time to get used to being around you. I have to gradually desensitize myself to your presence. Froud has informed me that it would be very beneficial to me if...” He starts to choke up.

  Malice is feeling extremely annoyed, and can’t keep from shouting quite loudly, “What?! You’ve already imposed so much on me, why stop now? What is it?”

  “Mustache,” the Knight says whimperingly.

  “Speak up!” Malice shouts.

  Froud says, “I have suggested that you don the mustache. Just temporarily.” He smiles at her.

  “What?” Malice says. “For a few days?”

  The Cat says, “You may cease on your 99th birthday.”

  But she ignores him. “How long?” she says, while glaring at Froud.

  He shrugs. “It’s certainly possible it shall only be two or three days.”

  The Knight mutters, “He tells me it’s more likely to be two or three weeks. Oh, dash it all! At times, my virtuous and honest nature betrays me.”

  Malice says, “But it’s best that I’m not deceived.”

  “Oh, I never want to deceive or betray you, My Queen. I wish to serve you most loyally. I just have this one embarrassing condition. I know it’s asking a lot, but if you can just find it in your heart—”

  Malice shoots him a look.

  “Err, my apologies, My Queen. You have a condition as well, I respect that. And I know I have a weakness. Froud told me during therapy that I must admit my weaknesses if I wish to overcome them. And I shall overcome my fear, it shall just take some work. I’m sorry to involve you, it’s just that ever since Alice snapped my neck and killed me...well, it really affected me, and you look so much like her.”

  Malice sighs. “Very well. I’ll don the mustache for a little while, but don’t think I’ll go for more than a week wearing it. Why, it’s so very unladylike.”

  “That’s very sexist of you,” Hatter says. “There’s no reason a woman can’t wear a mustache just as well as any man, and I daresay at times, she may even do it better!”

  Malice shakes her head. “I’m sorry Hatty, but there are just certain things a man can just do better. A mustache is one of them.”

  Hatter looks aghast. “My dear girl! Do not think so little of yourself! I feel you are just as capable as any man.”

  “For the most part,” Malice says, “But—”

  Hatter is staring at her, slightly shaking his head, not comprehending.

  Humpty ge
ntly says, “Hatter, women simply can’t grow mustaches.”

  Hatter says, “Because society tells them not to! But if women try, they can accomplish anything!”

  Humpty says, still gently, “You don’t understand. Women are biologically incapable—”

  “Oh, leave off,” Malice says. “You’ll only give yourself a headache arguing with him. Let’s get this unpleasantness over with.”

  The Cat shakes his floating head in midair. “You humans and your hair.”

  The Knight says, “Yes, I don’t want to prolong the wait any longer.” He picks up the doll. He faces away from Malice for a moment, and when he turns back around to face her, he is holding the mustache in one hand, whilst covering his eyes with the other. “I have affixed the mustache with a special sort of glue that’s harmless to skin.”

  “What’s it made from?” Malice asks.

  “The glue or the mustache?”

  “Both,” Malice says. “Oh, dash it all. Never mind. I don’t care to know!”

  The Knight says, “I wish to apply the mustache to your face myself. Froud feels it shall be helpful to face my fear...in a quite literal sense. But I still find it...scary. I ask that you close your eyes while I apply it. I’m still not ready to have you looking at me, staring at me with those eyes...” He shudders.

  “Sure. You don’t wish me to look at you? Very well. What’s one more imposition after I have already tolerated so many?” And under her breath she mutters, “Crikey.”

  The Knight says, “Again, I’m sorry to inconvenience you. I’m sorry for my failures. I should have snapped right back after she snapped my neck.”

  Malice groans. “No, it is I who should apologize. Sorry my twin killed you. Wearing the mustache shall be my penance of sorts.”

  The Cat says, “It’s better than the kind of penance that involves whips.”

  “My eyes are closed,” Malice says as pleasantly as she can despite her irritation. “Carry on.”

  “Very well,” the Knight says. “I shall apply the mustache now. Please lean forward to lower your head and try to remain still.”

  Malice is confused as to why she should “lower her head”, since the Knight is taller than her, but she simply does as asked, and waits.