Alice in Wonderland One-Shot

One of the most classic animated films of all time is Disney's 1951 adaptation of Alice in Wonderland. The film's beautiful visuals and imaginative reinterpretation of Lewis Carroll's books Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass are both memorable and inspiring. Why not allow your players a chance to play out an adventure in the world of the movie and books? With this custom one-shot, you can run a game that drops your players directly in a story that gave form to the childhoods of generations. Read on for the full one-shot. 

A note about the composition of this one-shot: Alice in Wonderland poses a lot of distinct issues as source material. For one, much of the film's appeal is in its lush visuals, which cannot be reproduced via a tabletop game. For two, the plot of the movie and the books is simply that Alice wanders from interesting discovery to interesting discovery; there is no narrative force that guides her. And for three, the film is such a classic that reproducing it faithfully would not be satisfying--I could only ever accomplish an imitation of the film, not actually create something in the same vein. For these reasons, this one-shot is not a direct adaptation of the film or the books that the film adapts; it is instead a complete reinterpretation of the source material, just as Disney attempted seventy years ago. 

Rules: 

The rules for this one-shot are simple. The players each create a character; they each need a name and a task they are meant by society to complete but which they want to resist doing. (For example, a player character's name is Alice, and she is meant to attend to her studies, but doesn't want to.) The only other thing that players need to track is their ability to introduce or reduce nonsense. Three times over the course of the one-shot, each player may choose to introduce nonsense in a way they see fit (to be approved by the GM) or to reduce nonsense in a way they see fit (also to be approved by the GM). These actions might look like a player talking convincing nonsense to an NPC or making a nonsensical NPC even stranger if the player is introducing nonsense, or an NPC becoming easier to understand or for an NPC to relinquish an illogical line of thought if the player is reducing nonsense. Players may only deploy these nonsense measures once they are in Wonderland. There are no dice rolls; simply use your best judgment as GM to determine how the players affect the world. If you think a player has a good idea for a strategy, grant them success; only determine failure if the player(s) fail(s) to completely think through their strategies and they couldn't conceivably work. Remember that we're in Wonderland, so fanciful ideas should be given precedence. 

The One-Shot: 

[narration in italics]

It is a beautiful spring day is the South of England. You are in a finely kept garden, complete with statues, topiaries, fruit trees, and a perfectly-trimmed hedge maze. You saw the hedge maze when you arrived here at the garden, and although it piqued your interest, you kept your distance. But the longer you stay away from it, the more it calls to you. A few sparse clouds roll by, and a soft sound underfoot rustles. Looking down, you see a white rabbit. And unless you are mistaken, this rabbit is wearing a waistcoat and is currently checking an oversized pocketwatch. The rabbit looks up and notices you watching it. It reaches up to your ankle, deftly unties your shoelaces, reties your shoes together, and backs up a few steps. You stand sturdily for a moment, and then a sudden gust of wind pushes you. You try to move your feet to steady yourself against the gust, but the tied laces strain, and you fall on your face. Rather painfully, in fact: your face has smashed into the rabbit's pocketwatch, smashing it and leaving gears hanging out at odd angles. 

"This won't do!" cries the rabbit. "I'll surely be late now!" The rabbit reaches over, loosens the watch from your dear uncle who used to tell you bedtime stories all about your adventures. He slips it into his pocket and runs awkwardly into the hedge maze. 

At this point, your players will likely pursue the rabbit of their own accord. The watch quest will be enough for some, and adherence to the film and books will be enough for others. If you have players who resist following the White Rabbit, tell them that the pocketwatch is worth a good deal and also bears great familial significance. If they're still slow to pursue the rabbit, you might have the rabbit reappear, taunt the players, and head back into the hedge maze. Or you might just ask your players out-of-game to play along for the sake of getting started; this one abbreviated choice serves to get us started, so the sacrifice of a true choice serves us in the end. When the players head into the hedge maze: 

Winding paths take your from one end of the maze to the other and back again. You duck to make your way under low-hanging hedges, you step over flower beds, you keep an eye to the sky to keep your bearings. Ahead of you is a section of the maze where taller hedges bend together in an arch; between them is darkness. You make your way forward into the darkness. Feeling your way along the inside of the maze, you take several turns and are soon disoriented. But moments before it becomes too much to be lost in the darkness, a light appears at the end of the hedge tunnel. You walk forward into the light and find yourself in a corner of the hedge maze you didn't see before. But something else is off. It's something about the colors, or maybe the air. Then it hits you. The sky is bright pink. The hedges stand in impossible shapes. You can hear the sound of indistinct singing in the distance. Something is different. 

Standing on your tiptoes, you manage to plot a route to get out of the maze. After a minute or two of twists and turns, you are free of the hedges. You stand at a junction of paths: one behind you leads back into the maze, and the other three look ahead, to the left, and to the right. Signs stand at the junction, point in each direction. To the left, the sign reads, "Tweedle." Straight ahead, the sign reads, "Tea Party." To the right, the sign reads, "Walrus & Carpenter." 

The players must now complete all three areas in order to progress. They may choose to pursue these areas in any order they wish. Simply scroll down to the proper section for the area your players choose first. It's worth noting that your players' overarching goal at this point is to regain the watch from the White Rabbit, so the players should be looking for him. 

Tweedle

The path juts to the left, taking you through darkened woods that seem spookier the longer you are in them. You follow the path for a long time, and suddenly, the path fades away to nothing in the middle of a clearing in the dark forest. You stand silently for a moment, considering your surroundings, when you notice the sound of two very similar voices speaking in rising intensity. They are too indistinct to hear, but they are getting closer. Soon, you can distinguish the word "button" being spoken repeatedly. A moment later, two practically identical people walk into the clearing. They both are strangely shaped: long, thin legs with big, round bodies and heads with no necks. Looking closely, one appears to be a woman, and the other a man. They shamble toward you, now quiet. When they stand just before you, the woman opens her mouth. "Button," she says, and the man immediately echoes, "Button," and then in unison: "Who's got the button?" 

The woman straightens her posture. "I'm Tweedle Dee," she says. "And I'm Tweedle Dum," says he, slouching. Together again, they say, "And you can't leave our woods until you play a game of 'Button, Button, Who's Got the Button?'" They look surreptitiously around, then whisper confidentially to you, "I'll bet you can't guess which of us has the button." 

The entire party gets only one guess at who has the button. They may use their nonsense measures to navigate this challenge. If they reduce nonsense, they can get easier clues from the Tweedles. If they introduce nonsense, the Tweedles forget who has the button and treat the party as victorious. Here are the two sets of clues that the Tweedles can offer: 

Standard: (1) "Tweedle Dee can only have the button if Tweedle Dum doesn't have it." (2) "Tweedle Dum can't have the button if Tweedle Dee says she has it." (3) "Tweedle Dee says she has the button." (The players get one question; Tweedle Dee has the button.)

Easier: (1) "If he has the button, he'll say that I have the button." (2) "If she has the button, she'll say that she has the button." (3) "If he has the button, I'll say that I have the button." (The players get one question; Tweedle Dee has the button.)

If the players correctly guess that Tweedle Dee has the button, the Tweedles reward the party with the knowledge that the White Rabbit passed through talking about the Red Kingdom an hour before. They do not know the way to the Red Kingdom, but they know the path comes from where the players emerged from the hedge maze. If the players incorrectly guess who has the button, the Tweedles are tight-lipped and simply say to return from whence the players came. 

You pick your way along the path back through the darkened woods. The trees thin, the path widens, and soon you are back at the fork in the road. 

Tea Party

You pick up the trail to the Tea Party. The path winds this way and that, often in looping patterns that lead you in many directions before finally getting where they're going. The loops become wider and wider until you arrive at a small door that the path ends at. You are too small to enter the door, and as you inspect it, the knob twists slightly. Eyes appear above the knob, and the keyhole stretches and speaks: "Well well, you're much to big to get through. But that can be solved. See those mushrooms just off the path? The blue ones will make you bigger, and the tan ones will make you smaller. Or the other way around; I can't remember." 

The players may now harvest the mushrooms. If a player reduces nonsense, then the door will correctly identify the tan mushrooms as growing and the blue mushrooms as shrinking. If they eat the mushrooms, make them at first grow or shrink by far too much; you should make the players adjust their sizes with different sized bites/licks several times before they are the right size for the door. When they are:

The door looks at you. "Well well, that's much better. Go on and enjoy the party." With a click, the doorknob's nose turns, and the door swings open. Inside is a garden more dazzling than the one you began in, and it surrounds a massive table laid out with dozens of teapots, teacups, and snacks. Seated at the head of the table is an old man, small-bodied with an oversized head and wearing an enormous hat, as well as a human-sized hare clad in a fine red velvet suit. They notice you and cry out:

"A guest!" they scream in unison. "A guest!" The old man pounds the table furiously. "We never invited a guest," says the hare. "We might as well keep the party going," says the old man. "Introductions!" they scream together. "I'm the Mad Hatter," says the old man, "And I'm the March Hare," says his companion. 

"Today is a very special day," says the March Hare. "Yes," says the Mad Hatter, "it is both of our unbirthdays today." The March Hare looks to you. "Is it, by chance, your unbirthday as well? But the odds are too low! You couldn't possibly have an unbirthday today." 

The players may indicate that it is also their unbirthdays. If so, the Mad Hatter and March Hare launch into a frenzied celebration, singing "A very merry unbirthday to you (to you!)." If a player asserts that it is actually their birthday, the Mad Hatter and March Hare grow very serious. "Birthdays are vulgar! Only unbirthdays are proper to celebrate." 

A green glazed teapot in front of the March Hare shakes, and the lid rises to reveal a very drunk mouse inside. "Unbirthday parties are everything," he says before sinking back into the teapot. 

"Oh, they are everything," says the March Hare. "In fact, did you know that unbirthdays are the best reason for tea? I would wager anything that nothing is more important than an unbirthday." "Yes," adds the Mad Hatter. "We would bet anything at all that you can't name something more important than an unbirthday." 

The drunken mouse rockets out of the teapot. "More important than an unbirthday? That's nonsense." He begins to hyperventilate. The Mad Hatter grabs a ramekin of jam, smears it all over the mouse's nose, and sits back in his chair. The drunken mouse is calmed instantly, and falls back into his teapot. 

The players now must name something more important than unbirthdays. The players may reduce nonsense to be able to pick something that society agrees is more important than unbirthdays, and they may introduce nonsense to convince the Mad Hatter and March Hare that almost anything trivial is more important than an unbirthday. Whatever strategy they adopt, have the Mad Hatter and March Hare evaluate their answer and either accept or reject it. If they accept it: "You're right! That is more important than an unbirthday. "We'll help you! The White Rabbit came through, had a cup of tea, and then ran off in that direction," they say, pointing back the direction you came. If they reject it: "No, I believe unbirthdays are more important after all. You'll have to figure this out for yourselves." 

The party now returns to the fork in the road: You walk back through the talking door, who bids you good day and a very merry unbirthday. You make your way back through the garden and along the path, and you are soon back at the fork in the road. 

Walrus & Carpenter

You wind along the path as it makes its way from lush forest land to spare grassland to a sandy beach. The path leads right up to the door of a makeshift building which seems to have been cobbled together from driftwood. The door swings open when you are still several feet away, and a man of small stature with a toolbelt at his hip steps confidently out into the midday sun. Behind him looms a massive creature dressed in a patchwork suit; he appears to be a walrus by his tusks and whiskers. 

"My my," cries the Walrus. "We have new friends here at our humble establishment. Are you hungry, my new friends?" he asks. 

No matter what the players indicate: "A feast we shall have indeed then. Oh Carpenter, why don't you go off and wrangle us some grub." The Carpenter nods in assent and ducks back into the makeshift building. 

The Walrus turns to you, ushers you inside, and seats you around a large makeshift table which appears to be made of parts of an old wrecked ship. "The time has come, my little friends, to speak of other things. Of lunch, and snacks, and chips in stacks, and crispy chicken wings. And why the tea is boiling hot, and all the joy it brings. Mmm-mmm, hooray, we'll feast today on cakes and onion rings." The Walrus has a faraway look in his eye, as though something from his past is troubling him. 

If the players question the Walrus's change in mood, jump ahead to the next paragraph. If the players don't react to the Walrus's change in mood, have him begin muttering to himself until they say something; then, go ahead and jump in with this: 

"Oh my friends, it is a hard thing to survive. Life consumes life--that *is* life. But fret not. Let me show you our trophy room." The Walrus strides out of the room and into an area in the back of the building. The room is filled with cabinets, display cases, and shelves. On and in these pieces of furniture rest various shells, hides, bones, and teeth. There are easily over a hundred remains of animals in this room. There is a small window along one side of the room. Looking out of it, you see a wizened old oyster sitting on the window sill. She shakes a tiny fist through the window and stares hatefully toward the Walrus. Noticing that you see her, the oyster opens her mouth and shouts through the glass: "He's a war criminal! He ate all my children and the children of all these other poor creatures. And now he'll eat you!" The tiny voice barely makes it through the pane of glass, but her message is unmistakable. Looking just to the right of the window, you see a few dozen oyster shells that look just like the old one outside. Then, suddenly, you hear a door close and lock behind you. 

Spinning around, you see the Walrus is depositing a large brass key into his jacket pocket. The Carpenter is in the room as well, a long and jagged saw in one hand and a claw hammer in the other. Both the Walrus and the Carpenter are practically drooling as they approach you slowly. 

The party must now act to save themselves from being a meal. They may introduce nonsense to change the structure of the building, confuse the Walrus or convince him not to eat them, or somehow obtain the key from the Walrus. They may reduce nonsense to help the Carpenter see that the Walrus does not care about him and turn them on each other, or by somehow obtaining the key. If the party tries to engage in direct combat, the Carpenter should beat the players one by one while the Walrus stands by; all the players wake up back at the fork in the path if so. (Also be kind to your players, and encourage them to avoid combat before letting anyone be defeated.) If the players manage to escape, the little old oyster communicates that the White Rabbit passed along the beach a little while ago; he was headed to the Red Kingdom, and the road there is back at the fork. If the players survived the Walrus and the Carpenter and need to return to the fork: 

You pick your way across the beach, which gives way once again to grassland and then to the thick forest you came from. You find the fork in the road once more. 

Following the White Rabbit

Once the party has completed all three of these chapters of the story, a four trail appears at the fork in the road, leading to the Red Kingdom. 

When you find yourself back at the fork, there is now a new path, one which heads toward a grand Red Castle off in the distance. You begin down this path, and all around you are nonsense creatures: deer with chandeliers hanging from their antlers, birds of shapes and colors like you've never seen, butterflies that appear to be made of crystal. You make your way past a large tree with snaking branches and suddenly hear humming from the foliage. A floating smile appears, followed by two large yellow eyes, and then slowly the body of a pink-and-purple cat fills in from the nothing of the air. "Hello, travelers," it says. "You know, the White Rabbit came through here a while ago. I'd tell you which way he went, but I just can't remember." 

The party may try whatever tactic they wish to extract information from the Cheshire Cat, but he is willing to admit essentially nothing. Just as the party grows frustrated with him: 

"Oh come on, when has a cat ever been helpful?" The Cheshire Cat grins widely and begins to slowly disappear again. 

You continue on the path. It may be your imagination, but it seems like you can pick up the tracks of an oversized rabbit along the way. You are so intently following the tracks along the path that you run smack into an enormous caterpillar, who releases a huge stream of colorful smoke when you run into him. 

"Watch where yoU are going!" the persnickety caterpillar says. "I cannot believe yoU!" Each time he speaks a letter aloud, a perfect puff of smoke escapes his mouth in the shape of the letter. With one of his many hands, he holds and puffs heavily from a huge hookah at his side. 

The party may ask the caterpillar for help with the White Rabbit, but the caterpillar will only say that, "The rabbit came throUgh here and went awAy." He will blow smoke in the party's faces, but refuses to help. When the party gets fed up and leaves, he calls out:

"WAit! There's something I must tell yoU." If the party returns to speak to the caterpillar:

The caterpillar stares intently at you, focusing all his energy. "I just had to tell yoU that..." The caterpillar contorts, stretches, and finally flails, massive colorful wings sprouting from his back. "YoU can't flI, suckers!" His new wings flap surely in the air, propelling him up into the air, laughing all the way. 

Once again on the trail, you walk a ways. The day is ebbing away, and it occurs to you that you have nowhere to stay in this strange world should you be here at night. You will need to find the White Rabbit and your watch soon or else have to stay here in Wonderland. 

You walk down the path once again, and the forested lands you had been walking once again give way to coastal plains. You can see the huge Red Kingdom before you. Suddenly, you again hear the humming of the Cheshire Cat. He materializes alongside on the path, leisurely strutting to keep pace with you. "Still looking for that White Rabbit?" he laughs. "I can help you now," he says. "He's in the castle just ahead." 

If the players thank the Cheshire Cat for his help, he laughs and disappears. If the players point out that this wasn't a very helpful time to share that information, the Cheshire Cat says, "Whatever. I'm everybody's favorite anyway." Then his humming commences and he fades away. 

The Red Kingdom

You walk the final length of the path and arrive at the Red Kingdom's castle door. It is open and highly intimidating. The grounds seem deathly quiet and deserted, at least until you turn a corner and see hundreds of animated playing cards standing solemnly around a guillotine. A card--the nine of clubs, specifically--is being forced into the device, screaming all the while. "It was an accident! How was I to know that Queen had already had her afternoon tea! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm so--" The blade of the guillotine falls, interrupting the card's final cries. His head falls into a basket, and a powerful voice booms, "Justice is served!" 

The cards in the crowd begin to nervously disperse. A small and unassuming man in an oversized crown shouts, "Visitors! My Queen, we have visitors!" The Queen turns from her enormous throne and looks you over. "Alright then, welcome to the Red Kingdom." 

At this moment, the White Rabbit comes running toward the throne. "I'm late! I'm late!" The Queen looks down at the White Rabbit, shakes her head, and looks back to you. "What brings you to the Red Kingdom?" 

The players may choose nearly any tactic here. They may honestly profess that they are here for the watch that the White Rabbit took--if so, jump to the next paragraph. If they want to introduce nonsense, they may fabricate some other reason for being in the Red Kingdom or even introduce a reason the White Rabbit should return the watch. If they want to reduce nonsense, the White Rabbit can realize that the watch isn't his and return it. The watch matters less at this point; what matters is the following scene:

"Are you saying my servant, the White Rabbit, took your watch?" the Queen asks, her nostrils flared. "That is slander! That is dishonesty! That is unacceptable! Off with all of your heads!" A few card soldiers begin to approach, but they are stopped short when the King speaks again: "Honey, mightn't we have a trial?" The Queen is already getting carried away with herself, but her husband's request stops her in her tracks. She stews angrily for a moment, then says, "Fine, a trial." 

You are swept up in a swirl of activity by the card soldiers. They hurry you along, out of the courtyard with the guillotine and into a large and ornate courtroom. At the judge's seat rests the Queen, her tiny husband sitting next to her. The jury box is populated by all manner of bizarre creatures which you saw while on the road. And in the front row, where witnesses sit, are a collection of the people from your adventure: the Mad Hatter, Tweedle Dee, and the Walrus. "First witness," calls the Queen. The Mad Hatter rises, smooths his suit, and takes the stand. 

"Is it true, Mr. Hatter, that the accused did not know what an unbirthday is?" asks the Queen. 

"Too true, my Queen," replies the Hatter. "Even though it was their very unbirthday today. It is a true tragedy." 

"I rest my case!" roars the Queen, brandishing a gavel high over her crowned head. 

"Now, dear, the accused still gets to question him," adds the King. 

"Oh fine," she says and turns questioning over to you.

The party may now question the Mad Hatter. The Hatter will not lie about anything, but he persistently tries to change the subject to unbirthdays. If the players introduce nonsense, they can get the Hatter's testimony thrown out of court. If the players reduce nonsense, the Hatter's testimony will be more focused and he will stop talking about unbirthdays. If the players can illustrate that they are somehow good subjects of Wonderland, the Queen dismisses the Mad Hatter in a fit of anger. 

"Our next witness!" cries the Queen. Tweedle Dee rises from her chair and takes the stand. "Is it true that the accused could determine whether or not you had a button?" asks the Queen. 

If the players guessed which Tweedle had the button, Tweedle Dee accuses the party of witchcraft for knowing something unknowable. If the players couldn't guess which Tweedle had the button, Tweedle Dee accuses the party of being too stupid to be royal subjects. 

"Ah, a serious claim indeed," says the Queen. "What say the accused?" 

The party may now question Tweedle Dee. Tweedle Dee will not lie about anything, but she will try to start a new game of "Button, Button, Who's Got the Button?' if she feels trapped by questioning. If the players introduce nonsense, Tweedle Dee becomes more and more chaotic until she is ejected from court. If the players reduce nonsense, Tweedle Dee stops with the button talk and testifies directly. If the players can illustrate that they are somehow good subjects of Wonderland, the Queen dismisses Tweedle Dee angrily. 

"Next witness!" screams the Queen. The Walrus stands, straightens his messy jacket, and takes the stand. 

The Queen looks hopefully at the Walrus from her position in the courtroom. "Is it true, Mr. Walrus, the accused disrupted your lunch today?" 

"Oh yes, I had quite the feast planned. And they ruined all of it," replies the Walrus calmly. 

"That's enough of a crime. Off with their heads!" shouts the Queen. 

"My dear," coaxes the King. "They still get to question the witness." The Queen scowls and gestures toward you, indicating it is your turn. 

The party may now question the Walrus. He will lie about anything that incriminates him, with the exception of his eating all manner of people and things. If the party can convince the Queen that the Walrus is actually monstrous, she orders that the Walrus lose his head, but the trial continues after he has been dragged away. If the players introduce nonsense, the Carpenter can arrive and turn on the Walrus since the Walrus never shares the food. If the players reduce nonsense, they can force the Walrus to only testify truthfully. If the players can illustrate that they are somehow good subjects of Wonderland, the Queen dismisses the Walrus (or sentences him to death) angrily. 

The courtroom is on the verge of erupting into chaos. The Queen is simmering, the jury is whispering frantically, and the spectators are yelling updates on the case back out the doors to those who couldn't fit in the courtroom. The Queen opens her mouth, apparently ready to offer a judgment, when suddenly, a strange humming fills the courtroom. A wide grin appears, then yellow eyes, and slowly the whole body of a pink-and-purple cat. "I want to testify," he says, laughing. 

"A surprise witness!" shouts the Queen. "What can you tell us about the accused?" 

"Well, for starters, they're not from Wonderland. They don't even go here!" The Cheshire Cat laughs to himself. 

"INTRUDERS!" screams the Queen. "OFF WITH THEIR HEADS!" The courtroom dissolves into wild energy. Card soldiers pour into the room toward you. 

The players now must figure out a way out of the Red Kingdom. If they simply run, use this narration: You see a path through the chaos in the courtroom. You dash past card soldiers, pushing over the ones who get too close. You make it out onto the grounds, where you noticed writhing colorful shapes on the ground. They rise and contort, taking the form of an arrow, the arrow formed of so many little fuzzy creatures. The arrow slides across the ground, pointing you back toward the main gates. You escape onto the road, the castle gates slamming shut behind you. 

If the players want to use their size-changing mushrooms, they may either overpower the card soldiers or sneak past them. Then revert to the italicized paragraph above. If the players introduce nonsense, the chaos in the courtroom gets more intense and they are able to escape; then revert to the italicized paragraph above. If they players reduce nonsense, they can get the card soldiers to disobey their mad queen and make a safer escape; then revert to the italicized paragraph above. If the players try to change the Queen's mind, she cannot be convinced to commute their death sentences, but the King can be convinced, and he can distract her until the party escapes. 

Returning Home

Having escaped from the castle and almost certain doom, you take stock of the situation. It is nearly sunset, you are lost in a nonsense world, and you didn't even get your watch back. How will you ever make your way home? As this thought percolates in your mind, you see a distant figure riding a horse. But something seems off about them, though it's hard to say from this distance. 

As the figure gets closer, you recognize that what is strange about them is that they are riding their horse backwards; as the horse trots along the path, the heavily-clad knight on its back looks back at where he has been. Before long, you meet on the road. 

"Goodbye, travelers," he says. "It was a pleasure to meet you." He reaches out to shake your hands. "Well, look at the time. It looks like I'm just leaving." To punctuate this point, he pulls on the reins, and his horse stops alongside on the path. 

"So you're leaving Wonderland," he says. Then, with a curious look on his face, he earnestly asks, "So where are you travelling to?" 

The party may interact with the White Knight as much as they like: the only important thing here is that the White Knight does everything backward. Later, this detail about the White Knight will be very important, so you want to make clear to your party that he acts backwards at all times. When the players have had enough interaction with the White Knight, he says:

"Since we're just meeting, let me give you this advice: if you want to leave Wonderland, you have to follow three steps. First, clap your hands twice. Then, say 'I want to go home.' Finally, spin in a circle. That will get you home." The White Knight nods sagely, adjusts his helmet, and says, "Well hello! Good to meet you on your travels." With that, he snaps the reins, and his horse begins to trot down the path once more. From his backwards perspective on the horse, he watches as you fade into the distance. 

The players can now solve the White Knight's puzzle: his directions, like everything else about him, is backwards. So if your players spin in a circle, then say "I want to go home," and then clap twice, they will be magically transported home; jump to the next paragraph. If your players try the process in the order that the White Knight literally described, have nothing happen. If your players are struggling with the backwards solution, give them an out-of-game clue like, "What do you notice about the White Knight?" or something that puts them on the right track. 

Having clapped your hands the second time, the colors around you swirl and twist. You feel faint for a moment, the world spins, and then you fall to the ground. When you open your eyes again, you are in the garden where all this began. The decorations look mundane now, after your time in the topsy-turvy world of Wonderland. It's a bit comforting. All that nonsense was dangerous. 

You wander out of the garden back into the real world. Absently, you stick your hands into your pockets. Your fingers brush against two soft organic things. Curiously pulling them out of your pockets, you recognize the remaining pieces of the size-changing mushrooms. "These could come in handy," you think, but suddenly a finch flies by and snatches one from your hand. Seconds later, a finch the size of an airliner is flapping desperately in the wind. And from behind you, you hear the laughter and humming of a familiar cat. 

THE END

So in the end, my reinterpretation is a touch darker than the 1951 film; then again, that film was especially dark for a children's movie, and I have just addressed that darkness in a different way. I hope that you and your players enjoy this take on the movie as well as my addition of the White Knight from the books. So get together some players, enter the crazy world of Wonderland, and enjoy the mechanic of manipulating nonsense, which should be a fun way to engage with the gameworld. 

That's all for now. Coming soon: naming conventions in my homebrew world, the value of individual intro sessions for campaigns, and ways to spice up generic enemies in encounters. Until next time, happy gaming!

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