“But you aren’t a turtle. You aren’t even a furry.”
“A what?”
“You aren’t wearing a turtle outfit.”
“What about my mock turtleneck sweater?” he asked.
“You aren’t wearing one.”
“But I have one, at my house. It’s blue.”
Alice folded her arms, becoming annoyed. “You’re called Mock Turtle because you sometimes wear a blue, mock turtleneck sweater?”
“No. Mock Turtle is my pen name. I’m a writer.”
Alice softened a bit. “Really? I love to read.”
“I’m a poet,” Mock Turtle said proudly.
“Oh.” Alice made a face. She should have known. “Poetry sucks.”
“Don’t disparage poetry. I shall make up a poem on the spot, about you, if you allow it.”
“How about I pay you twenty dollars not to?”
But it was too late. Mock Turtle began to recite.
Little Alice,
Stole a chalice,
Why’d she do it?
She won’t talice.
“Get it?” he asked. “Won’t talice? Tell-us?”
“It’s dreadful,” Alice said.
“Oh, I have worse than that,” said the Mock Turtle, and proceeded to prove it:
There was a girl named Susie,
Who drowned in a Jacuzzi,
She boiled like a potato,
And really tasted greato.
“If I had a gun, I’d eat it,” Alice said. “But I’d shoot you first.”
“Last one,” said Mock Turtle.
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
“Can I get that in writing?”
Mock Turtle launched into it:
When I need reference media,
I go to Wikipedia,
A dictionary is too slow,
And Wiki is much speedia.
“Ugh,” Alice said. “I think I actually threw up in my mouth a little.”
“A poet’s job is to provoke emotion,” Mock Turtle said proudly.
“You actually make money writing things like that?”
“Not yet. So far the snobbish literary journals have refused to publish any of my work. Do you know why?”
“They have standards?”
“Envy!” Mock Turtle declared. “They can’t stand that I have this talent, flowing through my veins, like some poet with poetry talent in his blood.”
Wow, this guy was clueless.
“ I know a man named Nolan, who had a spastic colon- ”
“You promised no more!” Alice said, shoving Mock Turtle to shut him up. “I need to get home, and I was told that you could help me.”
“Help you get home?”
“That’s what I just said.”
Mock Turtle tapped a finger against his chin. “Well, I could help you, Alice. But I’d want something in return.”
Alice narrowed her eyes. “Is it to recite another poem? Because I’ll turn around right now.”
“No. But you are quite beautiful, and I also couldn’t help but notice, quite naked. If you allowed me to make love to you, I could show you how to get home.”
Alice didn’t find Mock Turtle attractive, he was much too sour, but she was a pro at pity sex, and if she had to appease him to get back home, it didn’t seem like such a bad proposition. Besides, he might actually surprise her and be amazing at making love, like the many people she’d encountered that day.
“Fine,” Alice said. “Where would you like to-”
In a flash, Mock Turtle’s pants were around his ankles, and he was franticly rubbing up against her, trying to kiss her neck.
“Uh! Uh! Uh!” he groaned.
“Hey!” Alice said. This scenario was disappointingly familiar. “Slow down and we can-”
But it was too late. Mock Turtle had spurted all over her thigh, without having even entered her.
“That was the most unsatisfying experience I’ve ever had,” Alice chided him. “And that’s saying something.”
“Sorry,” he said, sheepishly looking at the ground. “It’s just that you’re so beautiful, and-”
“SEIZE HIM!”
Alice spun around and saw the Queen tromping down the beach toward them, surrounded by several guards. They immediately rushed at Mock Turtle, grabbing his arms.
“Your Majesty, what are you doing here?” Alice asked.
“The Duchess told me where you’d gone. This man has a seedy reputation, and as I’d suspected, my instincts proved correct.”
“What did I do?” Mock Turtle cried.
“Nothing!” the Queen retorted. “That’s the problem! Mock Turtle, I hereby accuse you of being a greedy, selfish lover, who cares not for his partner’s needs. If convicted of these charges, the penalty is…”
“Spanking?” Alice asked. She wouldn’t mind seeing the annoying little poet spanked.
“No,” the Queen declared. “Death!”
“Death?” Mock Turtle, true to his name, turned green.
“Death?” Alice repeated. “You certainly take your orgasms seriously here in Wonderland.”
“Yes, we do.”
“But he’s just a pathetic, selfish lout who doesn’t know any better,” Alice said. “Surely death is too strict a punishment.”
“The trial shall begin immediately,” said the Queen. “Off with his clothes.”
The guards stripped Mock Turtle of his wardrobe, ripping it so severely Alice couldn’t salvage any of it to wear herself. Though, quite honestly, she was beginning to really enjoy parading around naked.
“Alice, I subpoena you as the star witness.” The Queen pointed at her. “This man’s life hangs on your testimony.”
“Be merciful!” Mock Turtle begged.
Alice looked from the Queen, to Mock Turtle, and back again, wondering what she was going to do.
“To the courthouse!” the Queen commanded.
Not seeing any other choice, Alice followed the procession.
This was going to be interesting.
Chapter 7
