Author's Note: I was bored. I thought of this. I do not own the rights to either of these classic characters. They were created by Lewis Carroll, not me. I'm just... borrowing them.


A Conversation Between The Mad Hatter and March Hare

"Ah, my friend," sighed the Mad Hatter, "I don't think I'm quite as mad as I used to be."

"Whatever do you mean?" Asked the March Hare between sips of his tea. Earl Grey was all he would drink.

"Well, I don't think I'm, well, mad."

The hare laughed, his ears waggling as he did. "Why, of course you're mad, my friend. It says so in your name."

The Mad Hatter rubbed his chin thoughtfully for a moment. "Yes, I think I should change my name. I'm not mad, I don't think. I really feel rather calm." He sipped his chamomile tea. Perhaps that had something to do with it.

"So what then, who will you be? Hatter? Just 'The Hatter'? Now, now, that doesn't work. It doesn't sound right, 'The Hatter'," complained March Hare.

"I could change my name to George...," began The Hatter.

"George Hatter? You are mad!" Laughed the hare, pouring himself another cup of tea from a tall pot. He liberally added mustard to his beverage and a tiny dap of raspberry jam.

"No no, that's just it. I'm not mad. Not in any sense. I'm quite content. I haven't made any spontaneously insane outbursts for weeks. I actually want sugar in my tea! Can you imagine, sugar in tea? It's actually quite good...."

The hare shuddered, stirring his viscous tea before sucking it up noisily through the space between his two front teeth. Placing his cup on the saucer, which was floating in the air next to him, he sighed. "No, my friend, I think you are wrong. You are quite mad. I'm the one who is becoming normal. Each day I long for carrots. Carrots! Like a regular rabbit or hare. Yet, I just can't bring myself to eat them."

"I don't think you are anywhere near normal, my floppy eared guest! I am the one who is," a shiver ran down The Hatter's spine, "sane."

The March Hare gasped, then shook his head, glaring at The Hatter. "I really can't believe you would say that. You aren't anywhere near sane. Not at all. If either of the two of us is sane, it's me."

Sadly, The Hatter removed the note which had always been tucked in the ribbon around his top hat. "I am the one who is sane. I think I shall retire."

Picking up his cup from the saucer, the March Hare slammed it down, spilling tea with mustard and raspberry jam all over himself, the table and a flower plant nearby.

"Well, I never!" Exclaimed the plant and it lifted it's roots and left the yard.

"You are not sane! I am!" The hare told The Hatter, almost yelling.

"No, you are the mad one! I'm the sane one!" Replied The Hatter, at a higher volume.

"No, I am!"

"No, you aren't! I am!"

"Nonsense, I am!"

"Bah, I am!"

"I'm the one who is sane!" The Hatter shouted angrily at a plate of butter on the table. Then he turned his attention back to the hare. "And you are not welcome here anymore! I am perfectly sane and if you can't accept that, you can just leave!"

Jumping out of his seat, March Hare replied, in acid tones, "Fine! I'll leave!" Then he sat back down in his chair.

"Good!" Said The Hatter, then yelled over towards the gate, "And don't come back ever again!"

Then he sat back down in his chair and poured two fresh cups of tea. He placed one in front of the March Hare and smiled. "Ah, hello, friend. How are you today?"

"Oh, quite well, and yourself?" Asked the hare, as he cut his tea with a knife and fork.

The Mad Hatter smiled. "I'm just fine."