Alice in Wonderland was a strange choice for an adaptation, but Disney took a lot of liberties. They altered character demeanors, added in the "Unbirthday" sequence and presumably erased all pedophilic undertones that permeated the original novel by notorious creeper Lewis Carroll.
But for all the changes they made, somehow The Walrus and the Carpenter still made the cut.
In the story told to Alice by Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee, the conniving Walrus and his dopey sidekick The Carpenter team up to go hunting for seafood. Their target: a bed of oysters. The fact that these oysters are wearing baby bonnet shells and footie pajamas is of no ethical concern to the Walrus, and he begins convincing them to leave the reef and join him for a leisurely and not at all deadly stroll.
Their mother protests, but the Walrus shuts her up pretty quick.
Walrus leads the dozen infant oysters up out of the water and into a makeshift shack, sitting them around the lunch table. Painfully obvious to us but late-breaking news to the kiddos, the menu turns out to consist solely of their own species.
It's too late now. They didn't listen to their mother. Now they all belong to the Walrus.
At this point we cut away to the Carpenter, who is happily whipping up some sauce and bread for fixins to go with their feast. Since this is a Disney movie, you'd figure maybe it's during this point the baby oysters would make their cunning escape.
Nope. By the time the Carpenter gets back, Walrus ate them all. We only see the leftover baby oyster corpses, but those broken utensils tell the tale. The dozen of them were hastily scooped into the Walrus' mouth, sliding down his throat. As the Walrus tries to explain the situation to his companion, twelve oyster babies are probably clawing at the walls of his stomach lining, stepping over each other to get out of the stomach acid, desperate to live to see adolescence.
What we don't get to see is the inevitable moment when the mother manages to get her clamshell back open. Looking around at the empty seabed, she'd put together what happened pretty quickly. Never again will she see the beaming faces of her beloved children. She failed them, as a mother and a protector. Her punishment: To live out the rest of her days alone, with nothing else in the seabed to keep her company but the ghostly impressions of her dead sons and daughters.
Aren't you glad Disney decided to keep this unnecessary and inconsequential story in the movie?