Hatter was the owner of the beach. He was always surrounded by the worst kind of people, whether they were completely crazy, insane or just out to have fun. There was everything there on the beach and there was no denying it. There was no room for denial.

Hatter was sitting with the new member of the beach. It's not like he did this with every new member that arrived on the beach. You simply captivated him. He poured some vodka into the glasses, one in yours, one in his.

Hatter didn't seem bothered by your visible disturbance. How could everyone there live such a normal life when they have to play those damn games and kill each other?

"It's not poisoned." Hatter said, closing the bottle and taking the glass.