He's in that green-glop room with Doctors Dee and Dum for lifetimes. But he hasn't died even though his Lifetime is up, so he knows somewhere a clock is running slow. It's probably an important clock, because Dee and Dum don't age either and neither does Mad March the rabbit-head. There's too many crumbs in the butter, clogging up everything worse than jabberwocky spit, and he could fix it if he could only get his hands on it, he could speed things up until it was over.

But Mad March doesn't like fast time, so he keeps Hatter there in the green-glop room and slices him with knives while Doctors Dee and Dum cackle in the background and the floor slowly oozes up into the ceiling. But knives are better than sizzling cattle prods, so Hatter yells and hollers in pain whenever Mad March comes over, to keep him there just a bit longer. Mad March takes to his (not an) act swimmingly, chortling and patting the Hatter on his hat when he's done.

Eventually, after many more lifetimes and the clock has just up and broken so time stands still all over, Mad March lets him out. Hatter stares at the white walls and gawps at how stationary they are, so different from his own green-glop room. He stares at the tiles and inspects the corners where wall meets wall and floor meets wall and ceiling meets wall. He chortles at the ridiculousness of it all and lets Mad March lead him forward, because Mad March promised him tea and Hatter cannot remember what tea tastes like.

"Why, he's madder than Mad March."

Hatter downs tea cup after tea cup, because the stuff really is very delicious and he hasn't had anything to drink in such a long time. Everyone else in the room stares at him, but he just picks up the teapot and pours himself another cup of the tea. It's strange, though, because he can't remember tea being this bright and interesting before and the tea he doesn't remember tasting didn't taste like this.

"Look at him go, my sweet. Not even a twitch after a whole mug of Excitement."

The other people in the room stare, but Hatter chortles at their wide-eyed gazes and takes another sip. He likes this Tea that gives him warm feelings, he likes his friend Mad March, he likes watching the utter insanity of those around him that feel a need for solid walls and floors and ceilings over their heads instead of darkdarkdark and green glop, and Time can stand still all she wants. He could stay here forever.