And the red queen ordered: Off with her hair!

With a heavy heart I unpacked my gettin'-tall-drink-me. 'You won't need it where you're going to' the cat shouted. It kept on examing my baggage. Threw away my fancy dresses, maps, an umbrella... when it came to my precious red shoes, I started to protest: 'How should I ever make it home without red shoes, damn cat!?!' Immediately it stopped. Rose its sight. Deep eyes focused me seriously: 'What is this you call home?'
I swallowed. Looked up to stand its sight and threw the shoes against the wall. Don't argue with somebody who knows what you are. I'm learning my lesson. Slowly. Cat finished its searching. Seems to be content. It grinned when I tried to pass the doorway. Sparkling eyes were reading my mind, considering about a joke I'm probably not going to laugh about.
It fell in a soft, but quite lunatic singsang: 'Oh guess, oh guess sweet Alice! Dare you?
We wanna know oh-oh we wanna know did you know, oh did you know?
What we wanna know: If you really wanna go? Because then you should know...
oh guess - you're not too small, nor' too tall.
You're too heavy!'
It's always hard to take a gigglin' cat for serious, but the playfuller they get, the more attention you should pay. This lesson I've learned fast.
'100 000 hairs too heavy. Off with her hair!' - 'obey the queen say!' - 'Off with her hair!' echoing from different non-existing corners of the room. When I looked up just the cat's laughter was still haunting the room. A pair of scissors in my hand.
Ok. They had already ask me to do much weirder stuff on my way anyway. By now I know enough about the 'rules', to know that this is not a moment for questions, but experience.
And these scissors make me kind of curious...
So, mirror mirror behind the lens...