(I gotta be honest folks – I do not know where this is going!)
Death looked his new quarry in the eye. It was hard not to underestimate the Hatter: he was all of Five-foot-nothing and that was with the Hat on. However, he did have considerable power, and was known for bending one’s own reality to his will.
“Hello my firend! Thpot of tea fo you?”, the hatter asked playfully, his lisp thickly coating his ‘ess’ sounds. The Hatter then took a sip of tea as he waited for the answer, carefully angling his head as he sipped so he didn’t accidentally plunge his large nose into the cup.
Death considered his answer carefully. One false thought, even about an innocent cup of tea and -
A deluge of scalding brown liquid soared down at spectre, enveloping him and forcing him to the ground almost immediately.
The Hatter peered at the drenched being from his great altitude. Gently cupping on hand around his lips, the Hatter shouted,
“One lump or two?”
Death fought the reflex that was to answer, and stood up. Using his own power to dry himself, he kept his mind clear and Empty. Removing his scythe from his back, Death looked as though he were about to strike at the pillar the Hatter had perched his pool, table chairs and fine china on.
As the Hatter looked down, Death could almost see the panic wash over him as that Hatter envisioned Death’s action. At the same time, Death stopped controlling hiw own thoughts.
As two massive sugar cubes decended on his position, the Hatter’s own thoughts carried death to the pillar, and allowed one swipe of his scythe to sever the rock formation at it’s base.
“NOOO!” The Hatter screamed as all of his worldly possessions, including himself, fell the great distance to the ground.