Disclaimer: I own nothing. If you thought I did you're just a dumbass. But Joe on the other hand…
A/N: This shit just wouldn't stay outta my head and it's bad enough with Joe's gay ass in there. Nothing really dark and tea really doesn't go good with blood--Not that I tried or anything...
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow -- vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow -- sorrow for the lost Lenore--
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore--
Nameless here for evermore.—Erin' Edgar, 'The Raven'
Tea Goes Good With Blood
March Hare and the Hatter were having tea on a table set up under a tree in the front of a house. A Dormouse was sitting between them, fast asleep, and the two were using it as a cushion, resting their elbows on it, and talking over its head. Very uncomfortable for the Dormouse, thought Alice, only it's asleep, I suppose it doesn't mind.
The table was a large one, but the three were all crowded together at one corner of it: "No room! No room!" they cried out when they saw Alice coming.
"There's PLENTY of room!" said Alice indignantly, and she sat down in a large arm-chair at one end of the table.
"Have some wine," the March Hare said in an encouraging tone.
Alice looked all round the table, but there was nothing on it but tea. "I don't see any wine," she remarked.
"There isn't any," said the March Hare.
"Then it wasn't very civil of you to offer it," said Alice angrily.
"It wasn't very civil of you to sit down without being invited," said the March Hare.
"I didn't know it was YOUR table," said Alice; "it's laid for a great many more than three."
"Your hair wants cutting," said the Hatter. He had been looking at Alice for some time with great curiosity, before he spoke.
"You should learn not to make personal remarks," Alice said haughtily. "It's very rude."
The Hatter's eyes widened on hearing this but all he said was, "Why is a raven like a writing-desk?"
Come, we shall have some fun now! Thought Alice, I'm glad they've begun asking riddles.—"I believe I can guess that," she said aloud.
"Do you mean that you think you can find out the answer to it?" Asked the March Hare.
"Exactly so," Alice confirmed.
"Then you should say what you mean," the March Hare said, frowning.
"I do," Alice hastily replied; "at least--at least I mean what I say--that's the same thing, you know."
"Not the same thing a bit!" exclaimed the Hatter. "You might just as well say that 'I see what I eat' is the same thing as 'I eat what I see'!"
"You might just as well say," added the March Hare, "that 'I like what I get' is the same thing as 'I get what I like'!"
"You might just as well say," added the Dormouse, who seemed to be talking in his sleep, "that 'I breathe when I sleep' is the same thing as 'I sleep when I breathe'!"
"It IS the same thing with you," said the Hatter, and here the conversation dropped, and the party sat silent for a minute, while Alice thought over all she could remember about ravens and writing-desks, which wasn't much.
The Hatter was the first to break the silence. "What day of the month is it?" he asked, turning to Alice: he had taken his watch out of his pocket, and was looking at it uneasily, shaking it every now and then, and holding it to his ear.
Alice considered a little, and then answered, "The fourth."
"Two days wrong!" The Hatter sighed. "I told you butter wouldn't suit the works!" he said agrily looking at the March Hare.
"It was the BEST butter," the March Hare replied meekly.
"Yes, but some crumbs must have got in as well," Grumbled the Hatter: "you shouldn't have put it in with the bread-knife."
The March Hare took the watch and looked at it gloomily: then he dipped it into his cup of tea, and looked at it again: but he could think of nothing better to say than his first remark, "It was the BEST butter, you know."
"Tea?" the Hatter asked Alice, who nodded.
"You know what goes good with tea?" Asked the March Hare.
"What?" Alice asked.
The Hatter nodded, while Alice made a look of revulsion.
"Blood?" She asked disgusted.
"Blood," Confirmed the March Hare, smiling, before a rather large knife appeared in his hand apparently out of thin air.
Quicker then the eye could see he sliced the knife across Alice's throat, killing her instantly.
"Sugar?" The Hatter asked the March Hare, holding his teacup under the blood dripping from the now dead Alice's neck.
"Blood does go good with tea." The Hatter confirmed, sipping out of his teacup, ignoring the thick red liquid dripping unto his chin and unto his lap.
"That it does."