"Don't ever do that again!" The Hatter cried, thwapping his partner on the side in distress, scolding him in a manner most impotent. "I thought—" he continued to babble, "I thought..!— As if it wasn't trouble enough hatching the eggs, but I must be on the look-out for serpents night and day! Why, I haven't had a wink of sleep these three weeks!"
Despite his partner, who was just then verging on hysterics, Jonathan chortled throatily, in such a way that almost seemed cruel and good-natured at the same time. He dropped down from where he was, first finding the stool he'd kicked away with his foot and then using it as something of a reverse springboard to reacquaint himself with the floor. The rope that suspended him—that which appeared to be hitched round his gawky throat—was, in actuality, attached to the back of his regulation uniform, though the difference was moot to Jervis by that point.
"You wicked, beastly thing! How could you ever do such a ghastly thing to me! Why, I ought to—I should—"
"Settle down now pet," the taller man ordered. "You know my performance wasn't intended for your benefit." That much was true. It was rather Professor Crane's intention to give Aaron Cash a heart attack if he could manage, but for all the rotten luck he had, Jervis stumbled upon his dangling "corpse" first. The very thought of it inflicted him with rabid giggles all over again.
In this rare mode of steady confidence, Jonathan played as almost debonair, or he would were his eyes and hair were not so frightfully wild. Under normal circumstances, Jervis surely would have been charmed. "That's no excuse!" he cried, not bothering to temper his trembling lower lip or overflowing tear ducts. Crane couldn't help but to be amused, even still. As often as he set out to shield the poor thing from troublesome emotions as best he could, the Scarecrow had to admit that his darling little companion was highly reactionary in the face of fear, and he couldn't help but to delight in it, if just a little bit. Ah, but this really had been an accidental prank at his expense. He conceded to himself, with an inward sigh, that it was now his job to make it all better.
He broke to one knee and opened his arms slightly in silent beckoning, still failing to restrain his jocular smirk. Despite all of his anxious fury, The hatless Hatter slumped forward into the invitation and proceeded to bawl all over his shoulder at full force.
Whilst his hands cosseted and his mouth tenderly shushed, Crane couldn't help but to roll his eyes to himself, still blithely entertained by what he had dubbed a gross overreaction. And here their mutual associates all thought that he was the serious one.