mun very much appreciates this song ))
omg catapillar rude ))
As I was going to St Ives
(circa. Pleasantly insane Hatter, before he killed time and was tainted with the blood of Alice.)
The Hatter strolled somewhat aimlessly around the length of the table, humming a small tune to himself as he did so. He wore a bright smile on his face, tea cup in hand as he spoke to his table full of guests.
“You know, it rather was an interesting event, but, I once happened upon something quite bizarre on my travels.”
He drank from the empty tea cup, stopping to pour another when he found an empty cup, looking over the other chairs as he did so.
“Anyone else? No… ” He shrugged and continued walking about, “Well as I was saying, I came across a bizarre happenstance. You see… I met this fellow with seven wives…”
He laughed a little at the memory, turning, with exaggerated hand movements to to walk the opposite way around the table.
“But that’s not all! You see each and every one of these wives had seven sacks! And inside each of these seven sacks was seven, adorable little cats, with seven kittens to boot!!”
He laughed over the conversation he was having, as if it were the craziest thing that had ever had the opportunity to happen. He eventually came to the head of the table, a smile on his face as he totaled up everything in his head.
“Kits, cats, sacks and wives…. I wonder… How many were going to St. Ives….?”
He asked the empty table, and drunk again at the empty cup as he poured another for for an empty chair beside him.
What an awful shame.
It seems that the messenger boy is about to realize his true worth to those he fears. How dull things will get once he breaks…once he looses track which parts of him are red, and which parts of him are white.
Things are so much simpler over here with the neutral brown in the teacup.
Oh? Who are you referring to Hatter?
No one in particular, just remembering an old friend. Someone who used to grace our table a little, but he’s always running behind these days, poor little thing.
Can never catch a break.
….Not many people used to visit your table Hatter. Are you maybe thinking of the dormouse? He never did choose a side.
The poor little thing? No, He would never have so much energy to do that… no this friend of mine is highly involved with the courts… putting his neck a little too far on the line… soon there’ll be the sound of a chop… if he’s lucky of course
What an awful shame.
It seems that the messenger boy is about to realize his true worth to those he fears. How dull things will get once he breaks…once he looses track which parts of him are red, and which parts of him are white.
Things are so much simpler over here with the neutral brown in the teacup.
Oh? Who are you referring to Hatter?
No one in particular, just remembering an old friend. Someone who used to grace our table a little, but he’s always running behind these days, poor little thing.
Can never catch a break.
What an awful shame.
It seems that the messenger boy is about to realize his true worth to those he fears. How dull things will get once he breaks…once he looses track which parts of him are red, and which parts of him are white.
Things are so much simpler over here with the neutral brown in the teacup.
