Prompt 43 [part 11]

Alice heard music.  It was music that made you feel happy and sad at the same time.  Like remembering something you’ll never be able to experience again.  Alice knew right away she was coming upon a funeral.

Everyone was dressed in what Mrs. Bovary back home would call “slutty club clothes”.  Alice had never been clubbing, but if she had she would have noticed that despite this gathering looking like a club crowd, a key element was missing: no one was searching for a cure to their loneliness.  They were all just… together.  The stark outfits contrasted with the somber attitude in a way that was almost dreamlike [even for Wackyworld].  Alice noticed some signage further into the crowd and went to read it but was interrupted by the crazy dormouse.

“Well, well, well.  The impressionista has come to visit, innit?” said the crazy dormouse through his leather mask

“I have indeed.  I am on my way to the Palace.  I was going to ask for help getting home, but now-”

“Sad occasion though it is, you’re a little young to be here, innit?”

“Is there anything unscrupulous going on here, crazy dormouse?”

There wasn’t.

“Nah, just grieving.  I suppose grief does us all the rub, innit”

Alice knew in an instant who died.

“You know, I only knew him very briefly - but I knew him.”

“He spoke highly of you.”  the dormouse’s voice dropped a bit.

“That was kind of him,” Alice said softly, the way you’d put your hand on a crying newborn.

They shared a moment of compassion and vulnerability in the loss of a shared acquaintance and grew a little closer for it. 

“No one wants to speak, do you think you could…?”

Alice politely declined the dormouse’s request - but knew she could only deny two more times, if asked.  

“Well, that’s it then, innit?  I hope you get home or whatever, then.  But if not… I’ll see you around”

Alice didn’t mock the dormouse, but impersonated him to T.  

“wEll, thAt’s it tHEN, iNNIT?”

The dormouse smiled and his soul felt refreshed.  It was like having his heart hugged.  Warmth and comfort flowed through his veins.  A tear formed and he laughed for the first time in… years, was it?  No.. it couldn’t be… but, perhaps… Perhaps it was.  And so he left the funeral, for he was no longer grieving and had seen all of his friends. 

Alice walked closer to the casket but stopped short, as another hole was forming in the middle of the gathering.  Luckily, everyone reacted as though they were cats [meaning, they were quick and graceful] so no one was pulled in.  The cream colored squirrel with his retro timepiece shot from below the surface and went skyrocketing upwards.  The Crazy Cobbler was close behind.

“Oh, well nice of them to drop by, I suppose” said someone who sounded like a fish person.

“Yes, fair play, fair play” said a giraffe whose voice did NOT match her body.

Alice could see the Caterpillar heading home in the distance.  She didn’t feel bad that she missed him.  Even at funerals, there are some people you want to avoid. 

There were a few new faces there, as well.  A butcher, a baker, a fat booty shaker and a mechanic who only worked on Studebakers - all part of the Guild of Unstable Tradesmen.  The butcher has asked her to speak on account of no one else wanting to, but Alice declined once again.  Alice even thought she saw Genevieve handing out pamphlets on “Library Crooks” all while touting the fact that she wouldn’t be doing such a thing if she were running an actual library - that would be nuts!

Alice wasn’t far from the casket when she saw teeth in front of her.  At first, they made her feel strange.  But then Alice realized she just had a learned prejudice for floating bodyparts.  She adjusted her thinking and the image became less disturbing.

The people are… sad

“Yes, I can tell.”

Would you mind speaking on behalf of the dead?  No one else seems up to the task.  I would do it myself but…”

“I understand,” Alice agreed. 

You have yet to use your last refusal

“It’s okay.  Three people asking is enough.  I can do it”

And so Alice got the crowd's attention.

“I didn’t know The Walrus long, but I knew him as well as anyone.  He was flashy.  He was sassy.  He was all that and a bag of chips and a side of fries.  Some folks will say he ate up the oysters - and he did.  He did, and I won’t deny that, but he always said he would and he never lied about who he was.  Unfiltered, attractive, and even a little crass - maybe we all saw a little bit of ourselves in him.  Maybe he was something we all secretly wished we could be.  Or maybe we were just drawn to his charming personality, and gorgeous curves.  In any case, we say Rest In Perpetual Party and may we all remember you well.  You may now blow into your kazoos”

And into the kazoos they wailed and blew.  It was a lovely send off.  Disco blared from the Bluetooth speakers as Idiot and Dumbass stumbled towards the castle, drunk on grief and cherry wine.  They both were practitioners of The Way of The Walrus and, fools that they were, they imagined this was the end of the religion and not the beginning.  They also thought they should tell The Queen about this new slick speaker, but that could wait until morning.  The cherry wine was strong and they knew if they made an attempt tonight, they just wouldn’t be able to find the words.