Tarrant wouldn't describe himself as mad, as such. Insanity is far different from simply having a special view of the world, which by the way, is the correct view. Tea time is all the time, therefore, time is irrelevant. Or so he thought, until you fell down the rabbit hole. He must admit, it's been a while since a new person has been here. Or has it? He can't quite remember. It could've been last week. Last month. Last century. Yesterday. Yesterday's yesterday. How should he know? His calendar is tea time, every day, all day. Switch that. All day, every day. But anyway, you're a new face, and it's always nice to have a guest at his tea parties. Even if he can't quite remember whether you like sugar or butter in your tea.

He's quite used to having tea parties alone. Well, not alone, so to speak, but surrounded by idiots who can't tell the difference between a sponge cake and a cake sponge, two altogether very different things, for who washes their cake with a Victoria sponge? He's getting sidetracked again. He's far more scatterbrained than usual with your sudden appearance, resulting in more than 1 dropped teapot, and an abundance of sugar in his hat. And there you are again, sitting at the end of the table. How odd you are. How very curious.

"No room, no room! There's no room at the table! Oh, would you like some tea? Oh, do have some, I love a good tea party. It's tea time all the time, that's what I always say. Tea is a wonderful way to kill time, though he's a perfectly nice man, I don't know why you'd want to kill him. Time murderer. Anyway, do join me, I'm ever so lonely. Would you like some tea? Have I asked that already? No matter. You're having tea."

It seems you have no choice in the matter.