Do Not Enter.
The Rabbit Hole didn’t usually feature a “Do Not Enter” sign, but today it was draped in neon orange bunting.
Alice, never one to let a sign ruin a good tumble, hopped right over it. As she drifted down, she noticed the usual jam jars and bookshelves had been replaced by floating rubber chickens and mirrors that showed her wearing a very tall, purple top hat.
“Curiouser and curiouser,” she remarked, reaching out to touch a chicken. It let out a loud honk that propelled her downward at twice the speed.
The Un-April Tea Party
When Alice finally landed—not on a heap of sticks and leaves, but on a giant custard pie—she found the March Hare and the Mad Hatter sitting at a table shaped like a question mark.
“No room! No room!” the Hatter shouted, while gesturing wildly to three dozen empty chairs.
“There’s plenty of room,” Alice said, wiping a dollop of lemon curd from her pinafore. She sat down and reached for a teapot.
The March Hare leaned in, his whiskers twitching. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. It’s April First, you know. The day when the logic of Wonderland actually tries to make sense.”
Alice paused. “Make sense? But that sounds lovely.”
“It’s a nightmare!” the Hatter wailed. He picked up his pocket watch. “Look! It’s actually telling the time! It says it’s eight minutes past two. How am I supposed to live under such rigid conditions?”
The Queen’s “Mercy”
A bugle sounded, and the Queen of Hearts marched onto the lawn. Her guards, the playing cards, were all walking backward.
“Off with their heads!” the Queen bellowed.
Alice braced herself, but the Queen suddenly doubled over in a fit of giggles. She pulled a silk string, and instead of an executioner’s axe, a giant bouquet of trick-flowers popped out of the ground, spraying the crowd with sparkling grape juice.
“April Fools!” the Queen shrieked, slapping her knee. “I’m not beheading anyone today. Instead, I’m sentencing you all to… a very sensible nap!“
The cards groaned. A sensible nap was the most boring thing a Wonderland resident could imagine.
The Cheshire Grin
Alice felt a familiar tickle of whiskers against her ear. The Cheshire Cat appeared, or rather, his stripes appeared first, followed by a pair of sunglasses.
“Why the long face, Alice?” the Cat purred. “Don’t you like the holiday?”
“It’s all very confusing,” Alice sighed. “If the Queen is being nice, and the Hatter is being punctual, then who is being silly?”
The Cat’s grin grew until it took up half the sky. “You are, of course. You came to a world of nonsense looking for a bit of order, and you found it on the one day we don’t want it.”
He handed her a small, wrapped gift. “Open it.”
Alice carefully untied the ribbon. Inside was a small mirror. When she looked into it, her reflection didn’t look like her at all—it was a white rabbit, looking at its watch and muttering about being late.
“April Fools,” the reflection whispered.
Alice blinked, and suddenly the tea party, the Queen, and the Cat vanished. She was back on the grassy bank, her sister shaking her shoulder.
“Wake up, Alice! You’ve been dreaming.”
Alice sat up, rubbing her eyes. She reached into her pocket and felt something cold and hard. She pulled it out: a tiny, silver whistle shaped like a rubber chicken.
She looked at her sister and smiled. “I think the joke’s on me.”
The Crazymad Writer Writes Again 