"Because he is the Cheshire. You shouldn't have trusted him." I'm trying to use this conflict. "I promise you won't be hurt if you stop, sir. We will consider you an ally who helped prevent millions from dying." I am lying. I talk as if I am the police or something. Anything to stop this from happening. "I promise I will tell you anything you want to know once you put the sack down." I readjust the position of my feet. Holding a gun up for a long time turns out to be a hell of a task.
"I will not put the sack down," he says. "I don't care if you caught the Cheshire and made him confess. The world has to pay, or the Queen of England apologies publicly."
I want so badly to ask him if this means the Queen of England is the Queen of Hearts, but I won't. I have to strike with iron hands. The killer has to be stopped or killed.
"Sir, for the last time." I can't quite breathe steadily. "Put the sack down, or I will shoot."
"Shoot as you want," he says. "Bullets can't kill me."
"I have Bandersnatch bullets, sir." Why do I keep saying "sir"?
The Muffin Man suddenly panics. He realizes the power in my hands.
"Then it's really the Cheshire? Did he sell me out?"
"For the last time, sir." I grit my teeth. "I mean it. The last time. Put the sack down, or I will shoot."
"You know what she has done to my children in Wonderland?" His sadness begins to surface. It's sincere, I can tell. "Can you imagine your children scraping the doors and windows for three days without food?" This isn't helping me. The image haunts me. "Do you know how many times I asked the Queen of Hearts to kill me and just send someone to open the door for them? I mean, they were just children." An image of Lewis crying I couldn't save them blocks my vision and my reason. I don't want to soften from the Muffin Man's words. I am not sure I can hold on any longer. "Then in this new world, I told myself I would start all over again. I told myself the cruelty of Wonderland couldn't be in the human world. But once I warned the government of my scientific discoveries about the crimes committed by food companies, they killed my lawyer and killed my children. AGAIN!" he screams. His veins are about to spurt out of his neck.
His screams are absorbed by the stirring machines of the factory. Another injustice done to him. Every part of me translates his words to "Pain."
A tear trickles down my cheek. I don't think I can take the shot. "I understand your hardships, sir." My voice is fragile. The voice of a liar. How in the world can I understand such cruelty? "Once you put the sack down, we can talk about it."
"No we won't." He cuts the sack open, some of it already pouring in. "You look like a good girl. You don't know much about the world. And you don't have the guts to—"
I take a spontaneous step back. I don't know why. Then I close my eyes and shoot him. I can't let him play with my emotions.
The shot echoes briefly before it's sucked by the noisy machinery again. It's followed by Gorgon's mocking laugh. I open my eyes, and he is already pouring the pepper. His laugh of evil, as hollow as his voice, resonates and reminds me of my failure to stop him. The Pillar is right. Gorgon has been mistreated, but it doesn't give him the right to kill children and people. I'm beginning to adjust to some kind of moral compass I can follow. Saving lives always comes first.
A hand pulls the umbrella from me and pushes me away.
It's the Pillar. He has come back, and he will take the shot.
Seeing him do it, I feel like burning from inside out. I am not a failure. If I am meant to save the world, then I will freakin' save it. I pace ahead, pull my umbrella back from the Pillar, and watch the astonishment in his eyes. I push him out of my way and aim at the Muffin Man, who has emptied one sack inside already and has pulled his falling hair back so I can see his empty eye socket. He sneers at me, knowing I can't shoot him.
"Take the shot, Alice!" the Pillar shouts behind me.
The Muffin Man reaches for another sack and opens it, staring blatantly at me. I have one last Bandersnatch tooth left.
Afraid I will miss the shot, I run toward the Muffin Man, aiming at him. Closer is better.
On my way, he has emptied another sack. Damn it. He is reaching for a third.
I am running so fast I wonder if I'll end up flying. I circle around the huge stirring tub. Its sharp fans are glinting and scarily sharp. I am afraid I'll trip and fall inside.
"You can't kill me!" he yells, inches away from me.
I don't hesitate. I aim at his heart. It's the heart that kills, right?
The Bandersnatch tooth hits him in the heart, but sticks in his double-breasted jacket as if it's made out of steel. The one-eyed Muffin Man grins at me and pours the third sack.
I go crazy, filled with such anger I think I am going to explode. Without thinking, I run toward him, pull one of the sacks, and hit him with it on his back. It seems impossible that I could hurt such a big guy.
The look on the Muffin Man's face is priceless. He didn't expect it, bending over on the edge of the stirring tub, gripping at the edge with his hands. Still, it's not enough to hurt him.
I hit him again.
He bends closer with his head, staring right at the stirring fans. His tall body helps him to hold on. I prepare to hit him once more, but he steadies and pulls the sack from me. The look in his one eye says he is going to push me into the tub.
The Pillar interferes and whips Gorgon with his hookah hose, as if he were Indiana Jones. The hose is like a snake, tightening around his neck on its own. Gorgon chokes, and the Pillar pulls. But the Muffin Man is stronger. I run around and add my strength to the Pillar's.
"Don't pull," the Pillar complains. "Kick him into the stirring machine!"
Provoked, Gorgon somehow twists his arms and manages to start choking the Pillar with his one huge hand. The two of them end up almost tangled together.
“The Queen should’ve made you sneeze harder,” the Pillar slurps with a squeaky voice, his neck reddening under the pressure of Gorgon’s hand. “So your other eyes would have popped out too!” His face is about to explode like a pumped balloon. He still has his grip tightened on the hose.
I turn back and keep kicking as the Pillar pulls, but it's all in vain. I kneel down to grab another sack, but stop when I glimpse Gorgon's glinting kitchen knife.
I pick it up. It's so heavy. And I keep staring at it.
"Nice-looking knife, eh?" The Pillar can barely talk as Gorgon still chokes him. "Stab him!"
I don't know how I feel about stabbing him. The gun is easier. You pull the trigger from afar, feeling almost no responsibility for the deceased's pain—no wonder most of the killing in the world happens that way. A knife seems too personal. Too close. There is no escaping the responsibility.
"Better stab him, or just stab me!" the Pillar says. "Because if I can't hold any longer, he will surely chop me and serve me as a caterpillar soup."
I raise my hands and stab the Muffin Man in the back. He arches and stares at me with utter disbelief. The look in his eyes scares me. I stab him again, his blood on my hands.
Then again, and again.
Doing this reminds me of Edith telling the girl I came back from Wonderland with a kitchen knife in my hand. What the heck happened to me in Wonderland?
The Pillar takes advantage of Gorgon's brief weakness and pulls him closer to the edge. I catch on and put my final signature and kick the Muffin Man into it. He falls, bending over the edge of the stirring tub. The Pillar seizes the opportunity and kicks him in too a couple of times.