Alice continued deeper into the garden, her steps guided by curiosity and a sense of wonder. The strangeness of her surroundings only grew with each step. There were trees around her that appeared twisted and gnarled, their branches reaching out like skeletal fingers, casting eerie shadows on the ground. The flowers, vibrant yet peculiar, seemed to lean in as she passed, their petals rustling and whispering secrets she couldn't quite make out. It felt as though the very air was alive with mystery.

As she rounded a bend, the path suddenly opened into a sun-dappled clearing. Here, the scene before her was nothing short of surreal. A long table, covered with a patchwork of colorful cloths, was set beneath the expansive canopy of a massive tree. Its branches hung low, adorned with an array of whimsical lanterns that swayed gently in the breeze, casting a kaleidoscope of lights across the clearing. The table itself was a jumble of mismatched teapots, crooked cups, and peculiar contraptions that defied description, creating an odd but enchanting tableau.

At the far end of the table, two figures stood out in sharp contrast to the chaotic scene around them. The first was a man in a wide-brimmed hat, his face stretched into a wide, mischievous grin that seemed permanently fixed in place. His attire was equally eccentric—an array of mismatched patterns and bright colors. Next to him, seated with an air of jittery anticipation, was a hare-like creature with long ears and a twitching nose.

"Ah, you're just in time!" the man with a wide-brimmed hat called out as soon as Alice stepped into the clearing, his eyes gleaming with an almost manic excitement. His voice rang out with a blend of enthusiasm and mischief. "For tea, or for trouble—who's to say?"

The long-eared creature, his eyes darting from Alice to the man, nodded vigorously. His whiskers quivered as he fidgeted with a teapot that seemed to be leaking steam in odd patterns. "Oh, yes, yes, sit, sit! We've been expecting you—though we didn't know it was you we were expecting!" He giggled madly at his own statement, the sound echoing strangely through the clearing.

Alice's gaze, however, was drawn to a small, familiar figure at the table's edge. The White Rabbit, looking more flustered than ever, was darting about, seemingly in a state of frantic agitation. His waistcoat was slightly askew, and his pocket watch was clutched tightly in his paws.

"I found you at last!" Alice exclaimed, her voice a mix of relief and frustration. She hurried towards him, her steps quick and eager. "I've been searching everywhere for you!"

The White Rabbit's eyes widened in panic as he glanced from Alice to the Mad Hatter and the March Hare. "Oh dear, oh dear! I'm late, I'm late!" he muttered, his voice tinged with stress. He turned to Alice, his ears twitching nervously. "I simply can't stay—there's so much to do and so little time!"

Before Alice could respond, the man interrupted with a grand gesture, sweeping his hat off with an exaggerated flourish. "Oh, don't mind him. He's always in a hurry. But do stay for tea! We rarely get guests, and it's always more fun with a bit of company."

The long-eared creature scurried to fill a cup with tea from a pot that was sputtering steam in an alarming way. "Sit, sit! We have so much to talk about! And don't mind the mess. It's all part of the fun."

Alice hesitated for a moment, glancing between the frantic White Rabbit and the enthusiastic hosts. The scene was so bizarre and the invitation so spontaneous that she wasn't sure whether to accept or flee. Yet the thought of more answers and the oddity of the situation drew her in.

"Alright," Alice said, taking a seat at the table. She reached for the teacup handed to her by the March Hare, trying to ignore the strange, colorful concoction swirling within. "I'm Alice by the way, and I'll stay for a while. But perhaps you could help me with a few questions?"

The man's grin widened. "Questions? Oh, we love questions! Let's have tea and talk about everything and nothing. There's no better way to solve a mystery than with a bit of chaos! Oh, they call me the Hatter, the Mad Hatter. And him…meh…just call him the March Hare."

The White Rabbit, who had been darting about in a state of evident distress, clutched his pocket watch tighter. "I'm late! I'm late!" he muttered repeatedly, his voice quivering. "I've got to find the Queen! The Jabberwocky is—oh dear, it's all so terribly complicated!"

"What's his deal?," Alice asked, her eyes pointing at the White Rabbit. "Where is he going in such a hurry?"

"Who knows?," began the Mad Hatter, his voice ringing with a peculiar blend of excitement and madness, "Perhaps he's just a lover of time! But tell us, do you know the difference between a raven and a writing desk?"

Alice blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected question. "Um, no, I don't think I do," she admitted, unsure whether to laugh or feel bewildered.

The Mad Hatter's grin widened, and he leaned closer with a conspiratorial whisper. "Neither do I!" he declared with glee. "But it's such a delightful mystery, don't you think?"

The March Hare snickered, his whiskers twitching as he poured tea into a cup that was decidedly more steam than liquid. "Oh, it's the best kind of question, one that has no answer! Just like asking why a crow's tail feathers always seem to quiver."

Alice tried to keep up with the conversation, though it felt like she was being swept along in a current of whimsical absurdity. "Well, that certainly is... intriguing," she said cautiously, eyeing the disarray of teapots and cups scattered across the long, cluttered table.

"Do you always have tea like this?" she asked, gesturing to the table. "It seems like quite the... permanent setup. Do you ever stop drinking tea?"

"Isn't it delightful?" the March Hare said, his eyes wide with excitement. "We've been having tea for hours—no, days—maybe years! Time doesn't matter, not here."

Alice blinked, struggling to keep up with the chaos around her. "But where exactly is here?" she asked.

The Mad Hatter tipped his hat and exclaimed. "Wonderland, of course! And today, we're celebrating an unbirthday," he continued with a wink. "Your unbirthday, if I'm not mistaken."

"Unbirthday?" Alice asked, puzzled.

"Of course! It's a celebration of all the days that aren't your birthday!" the March Hare chimed in, bouncing in his seat. "So much more important, don't you think?"

Alice found herself laughing despite the oddness. "I suppose that's one way to look at it." She sipped her tea and looked around. Despite the chaos, there was something undeniably fascinating about this place.

The White Rabbit, meanwhile, was pacing anxiously. "Oh, if only I had time to explain! I must be off—there's a meeting, and I'm dreadfully late!" He glanced at Alice with a mixture of frustration and desperation. "You must hurry! The Jabberwocky—"

"Jabberwocky?" Alice interrupted, her interest piqued. "Is that what you're so worried about?"

The Mad Hatter cut in with a whimsical gesture. "Ah, the Jabberwocky! A fearsome creature, indeed. But isn't it more fun to talk about tea and time? Who cares about monsters when there's tea to be had?"

The March Hare nodded in agreement. "Yes, tea is much more pleasant than monsters! Though, we must always be wary of the Bandersnatch. It's quite a tricky beast."

Alice frowned, trying to piece together the fragments of information. "And what's a Bandersnatch?"

The Mad Hatter's eyes sparkled with delight. "Oh, it's a creature of great mystery, with a penchant for mischief. But don't worry too much. It's mostly harmless—unless you happen to annoy it."

Alice smiled awkwardly, trying to make sense of the bizarre conversation between the Mad Hatter and the March Hare. Their words tumbled and twisted in a way that made them sound almost like riddles, though none of them seemed to have any logical conclusion. As she raised the teacup to her lips once more, savoring the strange, flowery taste, her eyes wandered down the length of the table.

And there, nestled between a stack of mismatched teacups and an empty sugar bowl, was a small dormouse, its tiny chest rising and falling in the steady rhythm of sleep. Its whiskers twitched as it let out a soft snore, completely undisturbed by the chaos around it.

"Excuse me," Alice ventured, leaning slightly forward, "but is that dormouse... asleep?"

The Mad Hatter's grin widened even further, if that were possible, and he waved his hand dismissively. "Oh, he's always asleep. Can't be helped, really. You see, he's very busy in his dreams."

"Dreams?" Alice echoed, intrigued by the idea. "What could a dormouse possibly dream about?"

The March Hare, who had been precariously balancing a spoon on the tip of his nose, suddenly let it drop with a clatter. "Ah! You mustn't ask such things! His dreams are secret, you know. Highly classified!" He leaned in conspiratorially, his large eyes gleaming with mischief. "Rumor has it, he dreams of tea... and cheese... and sometimes of an endless sea of jam!"

"Jam?" Alice asked, incredulously. "What an odd thing to dream about."

The Mad Hatter leaned closer to Alice, lowering his voice as if sharing a great secret. "The thing about jam, you see, is that it's always yesterday's or tomorrow's jam. Never today's. Can't have it today—it's simply not allowed."

Alice frowned, perplexed. "But why not?"

The Mad Hatter gasped dramatically, placing his hand over his heart. "Why, if we had today's jam, everything would fall apart! Time, dear Alice, is very particular about such things. But the real question is—what time is it, now?"

Alice glanced around the chaotic tea table, filled with teapots, sugar bowls, and scattered saucers, none of which had a clock in sight. "I... I don't know."

The March Hare cackled gleefully. "That's the fun of it! Time doesn't matter here. Not at all. Every moment is just another tea party waiting to happen!"

The Mad Hatter chuckled softly and poured Alice another cup of tea, though it sloshed over the edge and into the saucer. "Time, you see, doesn't follow the same rules in Wonderland. Oh no, it's a fickle thing here. Quite moody."

"Yes, yes, very moody!" the March Hare agreed, bouncing in his seat. "We've been having tea for... oh, I don't know how long. A few minutes? A few years? Who's to say?"

Alice's head spun at the thought. "But... but that can't be right! Time has to move forward, doesn't it?"

The Mad Hatter raised a finger, as if about to impart some profound wisdom. "Not if you're having tea. Time stops for tea."

He gestured grandly to the table, as if the very act of sipping tea had frozen the world around them. Alice wasn't sure whether to laugh or feel exasperated. "But you can't have tea forever," she argued, though even as she said it, she wasn't entirely sure if that was true in Wonderland.

"Can't we?" The Mad Hatter grinned wickedly, eyes twinkling. "Here, anything is possible."

The March Hare was about to add something when a sudden loud snore erupted from the dormouse. Alice turned her attention back to the small creature, who was now mumbling incoherently in its sleep.

"Shh, he's dreaming again," the March Hare whispered, leaning closer as if to listen in on the Dormouse's mutterings. "I think... I think he's dreaming about... a sea of marmalade this time!"

The Mad Hatter clapped his hands delightedly. "Oh, marmalade! What a twist! I didn't see that coming!"

Alice shook her head, trying to wrap her mind around their ridiculous conversation. "But why is he always asleep?"

The March Hare glanced around, as if searching for an answer in the trees, then shrugged. "We wore him out, I suppose. Too many tea parties, not enough naps."

The Mad Hatter nodded solemnly. "It's a sad tale, really. You see, the Dormouse once tried to stay awake for a whole tea party, but in the end, he just couldn't manage it. Fell asleep right in the middle of a story about treacle. Since then, well..." He motioned to the snoring dormouse. "He's never quite recovered."

Alice couldn't help but giggle at the absurdity of it all. "So he's always asleep?"

"Oh yes," the March Hare confirmed. "But don't wake him—he might miss his chance to dream of crumpets next!"

Alice smiled, sipping her tea again. Despite the madness of it all, she found herself enjoying the sheer whimsy of the tea party. And yet, in the back of her mind, she still wondered about the White Rabbit and the cryptic mention of the Jabberwocky.