"Good evening, welcome one and all. A grand tour by yours truly, ah but at the least I should introduce myself. I am Madison Anastasia Hatter. . . . . You may call me, Mad Hatter. Yes, yes, I know the story of Alice in Wonderland. The Hatter over there is my uncle, you see? All of us in the family are called Mad Hatters. Why? Because we prefer it that way. Odd isn't it?
What? The Mad Hatter from the American McGee's Alice? You want to know of dear granduncle Mason? Fie, fie. . . I'll get there later. We're on a tour aren't we? Let me show you around, with a tip of my hat and we'll be off!
Oh yes, we're in the dark about this aren't we? Look around, there's nothing but a door. Lo! Door! Open up and let us in. . . Must I pull you by the handles again? I'm afraid that I have to, I don't want to scare these poor folks away right now. They just got here, DOOR! Let us in or I'll take you down once aga-Ah, there we go! That wasn't so hard now was it? Come along now, you don't want to be late for the tea party do you? Or the appointment with the Queen?
Oh, the Queen isn't so frightening after you known her for years, you see? She's rather stubborn at best put it, violent as well. Quite a messy lady when it comes time to justice. Ah, I'll let you meet her yourself. Now, where shall we go? How about to my home first? Shall we?"
She danced along the stone set road that lead into the tall woods. Her heels clicking as they hit the stone. A marvelous sound one after another, like a melody from glass chimes. The woods around the stone path were thick. Trees stood tall to the point that they looked like they touched the sky. Insects buzzed around the flora and whatever ray of light that broke through the canopy of the trees. Birds flew around and hung onto the branches, singing their own tune while perched.
At the end of the path, there was a white-washed house on the edge of a lake. Beside it was a garden enclosed around a large area where the party table was kept. The smell of warm, freshly made tea floated in the air like perfume. The Mad Hatter turned and tipped her hat at us.
"Here we are. Welcome to my dormain. Come, come, I won't hurt you. I would watch for Doormouse, she's a dear but often curious of others. March Hare shouldn't be a problem at all, he's a sweet boy."
