The Conspiracy of the Unwarm Tea

 Written in the style of the author, Lewis Carroll.

The Mad Hatter, a Boston Terrier in a ridiculously oversized hat, poured what looked suspiciously like melted icicles into a cup. “The great secret, dear Alice,” he whispered, though the Queen was only three feet away, “is that if the tea is warm, one might actually feel something. And feeling is entirely unsuited for the third Tuesday of December!”

The Queen of Hearts, a majestic Boston Terrier wearing a tiny, holy crown, slammed her paw on the linen cloth. “Silence! The temperature of the Observance must be precisely Un-Christmas-like! Anything warmer than a very large, wet snowflake is TREASON! Off with their heads!”

Alice shivered. “But surely, tea is supposed to be warm in the cold? It’s the proper, logical way.”

The Hatter began frantically digging at the ground with his front paws, convinced the entire tea set was meant to be buried for safekeeping. “The crumpets are safe now!” he snorted, covering the sugar bowl with dirt. "The conspiracy, you see, is not what we are saying, but what we are not saying. Which is: we haven’t enough clean spoons to share!”

The Queen, utterly exasperated by the chaos, made a low, frustrated growl of despair. “Off with its... oh, never mind. It’s too cold to argue with a Hatter.”

Click here to visit Day 19

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