Hatter's Best April Fool's

The origins of the observance known as April Fool’s Day are greatly debated.  Some say it began as criticism to those who still followed the Julian calendar after the Gregorian had been implemented as the primary calendar.  Others say it is from the fact that first day of the year in France used to be April 1st, but Charles IX eventually changed it to January 1st.  Those who still followed the old ways in both of these instances were called “April Fools.”  Some say it comes from those who celebrated the first day of spring too early, which as all know, is May 1st.  And some even claim the origin goes back to the time of the Great Flood, when Noah sent the raven too prematurely, before the flood waters receded.


Regardless of the origin, disavowing its roots, the nature of the day had come to mean one thing to the land where those who honored the name of Disney resided: Trouble.  Well, that, and outrageous pranks, (costly) damage to structures and psyches, and of course, the collective decision between the more timid residents of the land to simply stay in bed all day (or in some cases hide under the bed) until April the second.  Piglet went so far as to sequester himself by March 31st, just to be on the safe side.


While most enjoyed a harmless joke as well as the next person, there were some who were regarded as the real instigators of the mayhem.  Clopin, of course, loved to be in on any sort of mischief.  The hyenas Ed, Shenzi, and Banzai didn’t have the brains (or the opposable thumbs) to do much on their own, but would laugh hysterically at the exploits of others.  Oogie Boogie and his trick-or-treaters Lock, Shock, and Barrel were only kept from doing any permanent damage by fear of retribution at the hands of the Pumpkin King, Jack Skellington.  And Jack Sparrow just spiked everything he could possibly find with rum.  And ended up drinking most of the contents himself, with interesting results (the children enjoyed the rum-soap bubbles, even if they did smell funny).  And Puck was a trickster sprite by nature, and adored any excuse to cause mischief.


There was one man, though, who was admitted by all to be the king of the merry pranksters.  Reginald Theophilus the Third, otherwise known as the Mad Hatter.  Tales of his exploits had been talked of many times over the years, with equal parts awe, trepidation, and sometimes outright disbelief that he had pulled such a thing off (seriously, how could you dare to put pink dye in the Beast’s shampoo?).  As the years passed, the pranks got more and more outrageous, until it seemed like he could not possibly outdo himself.  Then April 1st rolled around again, and everyone held their breath.


Then they had to let it out, because they were starting to turn blue and that was just not healthy unless you were the genie, in which case you were blue to start with.  The day progressed, with the other tricksters up to various bits of tomfoolery (cutting Gaston’s hair into a pageboy was a gross violation of several laws, including the breaking-and-entering it took to get into the hunter’s house the night previous, but it was also damn funny and led to many Prince Valiant jokes and others in a similar vein) but there was no sign of the Mad Hatter.  At first this was a relief.  Then everyone got paranoid, thinking he must be planning something very, very big.


One Alice Liddell, formerly of England and lately co-owner of the village bookshop with her friend Belle, was certain that the madman had to be up to something.  She almost stayed in the bookstore all day, but her stomach finally made her relent and seek out some nourishment.  Though she took Belle with her for what protection the other girl could offer.  Safety in numbers and all that.  Besides, Clopin was willing to extend a stay of execution, as it were, to a fellow native of France.  Meaning he steered them away from a certain street, where he and Puck had joined forces to replace some of the cobblestones with their own creations that would make rude noises or shout insults if stepped on (the most common being: “Your mother was a hamster, and your father smelt of elderberries!” though “Your mother is a fraggin’ aardvark!” was also heard several times).  Alice just prayed for time to speed up, so that April 1st would be over all the sooner, and hopefully end without her having seen Reginald.


She never should have thought it.  She knew better, honestly she did.  It was the same principle as saying “At least it can’t get any worse” or “It’s a piece of cake” or even the dreaded “Don’t look down.”  Just as she started to hope that she would be able to pass April Fool’s Day without seeing her own personal fool, he would appear.


Not that she recognized him at first.  It was only after a second glance at his face, seeing that unique nose of his, that she recognized him.  Given how he looked, she could hardly be blamed.


Gone were his usual brightly colored clothes, replaced by a suit jacket and trousers both of a bland, muted beige hue that would have been at home being the color of a suit worn by many an accountant or IRS agent.  His vest was a darker brown, with a matching tie perfectly tied in a Windsor knot.  Even his shirt was less blinding a white than usual, more the color of parchment, and his shoes were actually the correct size for his feet, a pair of highly shined brown wingtips.  


He wore a hat, of course.  No matter what else he chose to tog himself in, the Mad Hatter would be wearing a hat unless there were extreme circumstances.  And so he had a hat, a top hat most naturally.  But it was the same brown as his vest and tie, and was not oversized nor did it have a white card proclaiming what size the hat was nestled in the beige hatband.


He stopped in front of the completely flabbergasted Alice and Belle, one brown (leather) gloved hand reaching for the top hat, so that he could tip it to the ladies, the other hand resting on the handle of a handsome black, silver-chased walking stick.  It was only when he made the gesture that Alice could notice that he had somehow tamed his wild white locks into a slicked-back style.  


At first, distracted by the walking stick, she thought he must have gotten the color wrong on the suit (and forgot the monocle) because this year’s prank involved him dressing up as Mr. Peanut.  But then he opened his mouth, and Alice’s train of thought was completely derailed (“I think I can, I think I can, I think I AAAAAAHHHH bridge is out, bridge is out, AAAHHHH-BOOM! CRASH!”).


“Good day, Miss Alice, Miss Belle.  What a fine day it is today.  The clouds on the horizon look a bit ominous, though.  Do you think we shall have rain later in the week?”


Neither of the women could answer at first.  Who was this man, and what had he done with Reginald?  The Hatter they knew would never stand around talking about something as mundane as the weather.  He might talk about the shapes he saw in the sky (“Look, a hippo and alligator dancing ballet!) or starting warbling “Singin’ in the Rain” even when it was a sunny day.  But he didn’t just discuss the weather as it was, like normal, boring people did.  Especially not on April Fool’s Day.


“Reginald,” Alice finally said, when she regained control of her powers of speech.  “Are you feeling all right?”


“Oh yes, I’m quite well, thank you for asking, Miss Alice,” Reginald returned politely.  “I trust both of you ladies are in good health as well?”


They weren’t quite certain, though they nodded and murmured something to the effect that they were.  Had Jack gone for something stronger this year, some hallucinogen that would make them see such an unlikely sight?  The idea was no more outrageous than The Mad Hatter acting—well—sane.  And not even just sane, but boring.  Normal.  Not himself.


It surprised Alice greatly that she was not happy at the idea of Reginald being mundane.  It just wasn’t who he was.  Say what she would about him, that he was an unmitigated cur with the manners of a herd of slavering Jabberwockies; he was also unique, and even amusing and charming when he wasn’t trying so hard.  


“You do know what day it is, don’t you?”  Belle added, seemingly as flummoxed as Alice was, and sounding just a little disappointed (nice and sweet as she was, Belle had still laughed so hard she cried when she heard the story of the Beast’s shampoo, and even asked if there were pictures).


Reginald nodded.  “The first of April, isn’t it?  Well, it’s been lovely talking with you both, but I have an appointment I must get to.  Oh, and Miss Alice, I have a little keepsake for you.  I found it last week and thought of you.”


He took an object out of an inner pocket of his jacket, and handed it to Alice, before tipping his hat once more and turning on his heel, before he began walking away.


The object was a pretty silver container, cylindrical in shape.  It looked like it might be a container for tea, and Alice wondered if the Hatter had found a new variety somewhere.  Taking hold of the canister’s top, she decided she’d take a look inside and see if she could tell by smell what sort it was.


Several long, spotted things sprang from the cylinder, and Alice screamed as they launched into the air.  She skipped several steps backwards, dropping the cylinder in her haste.  She had her skirts bunched in her hands, all ready to lift them in a thoroughly cliché feminine fashion, when she realized what she thought were snakes were just lengths of plush that looked vaguely serpentine until one took a good look at them.  She turned to Belle, to see if her friend had been just as startled.  Given how Belle was bent down and clutching her sides as she guffawed, Alice rather doubted she would have any sympathy.


She turned her gaze away just in time to see Reginald add the finishing touch to his real April Fool’s Day ensemble, turning his top hat inside out (only he could manage such a thing, honestly) to change it from a somber brown to bright, sunny yellow with bubblegum pink spots.  The rest of his outfit wasn’t much better, everything having been apparently reversible except the shirt, but the parchment-colored fabric was barely noticeable, what with the plaid purple vest, orange pants with green stripes (which he’d actually had on under his other pants, which were designed so they could be torn off in a dramatic fashion) aqua jester’s shoes with curled toes that fit over his wingtips, which he’d had hidden in yet another pocket.  And to top it all off a jacket of so many colors patchworked together that Alice couldn’t even begin to guess how many there were.  Even his hair had been mussed back to its usual wild state.  


Before she could say anything, whether to yell at him, call him names, or perhaps even to tell him how secretly thankful she was it had all been an act, Reginald made a grab for her, lifted her off her feet as he spun her around several times, and then set her down only to take advantage of her dizziness to lay a smacking kiss on her lips.  Then he quickly bounced away out of striking range, calling a hearty: “Happy April Fool’s, Cricket!” over his shoulder before he ran down the street towards the direction of Puck and Clopin, brandishing the walking stick like a rifle.  She learned later that the walking stick had been hollow and doubled as a water cannon, and which was a key instigator in what came to be known as the Great Water Battle in which no lives were lost, but many ended up wet and unhappy and caused the instigators, who ended up the most soaked of all, to get really bad head colds.  Everyone agreed that it served them right.


But at that moment, Alice just stood there, watching the Mad Hatter disappear around a corner.  Belle finally got a hold of herself, though the occasional giggle still escaped her every once in a while.


“I love April Fool’s Day,” she said.


Alice smiled, picking up the silver canister and the plush snake-imposters.  It was an old trick, really, and she was a little ashamed of herself for falling for it.  But then, she had a whole year to plan for something much bigger, and better.


“You know what?  So do I.  Happy April Fool’s, Belle.”