Prologue

Off with her head! Off with her head! Off with her head!

They were cheering it on and on as she was being led down towards the scaffold by six red playing cards. There was no way on earth to accurately describe the sheer insanity of the scene. Here she was, in the court of the red castle, surrounded by talking animals – ostriches, horses, rabbits, pigs, hounds, cows… - and human sized playing cards. Above them on the balcony she sat, the Red Queen with her red hair in a gigantic up do, wearing a formidable red dress and surrounded by her subjects, one more curious of the execution than the other. And surrounding the scaffold: Heads. Many, many heads, the bodies long removed but the heads still lying around. Her bound hands wandered up to her throat. She actually liked her head a fair bit. Sure enough though, she liked it right where it was.

She was being pushed up the wooden steps towards her executioner, a tall man in black leather, leaning on an enormous battle axe that was already covered in the blood of those that had come before her. Blood staining the dry sand in the courtyard a deep red.

As she was pressed to her knees, the Queen rose.

"Alice Liddell. She has been put on trial and found guilty and has been sentenced to death by beheading!" she declared. Alice groaned.

"I still don't know what I have been found guilty of…" she mumbled to herself.

"Never mind, no one really does." her executioner spoke in a muffled, Irish accent as he leaned a bit closer to position her head comfortably on the log.

"She has any last words?" the Queen asked loudly. Alice looked up sceptically. Now they let her speak?

"Really just… be careful with the hair, I just dyed it a few days ago." She said, looking up at her executioner. It was hard to tell if he had humour, what with his face covered by a black sack. The crowd continued their cheering, hungry for blood, in ecstasy with the excitement and anticipation of her imminent death. And then her order resounded loud and clear.

"Off with her head!"

Alice braced herself for the end, eyes closed, drawing in a deep breath. She always knew she had it coming one way or the others. Live hard, die young. Her executioner raised his axe and –