just enough pathos

Hatter wore a hat and turned completely insane. In the middle of nowhere, swaggering like the evil rat in the alley,  he aimed to conquer. Turned around, lit a doobie. Saw the trees in the distance, outlined against the sky, still and rooted. Turtle came over, put her hands on her hips and stood behind him, observing the same, thinking about other things: yesterday's game, hysteria and kitchen antics. She sat down in a huff, mouthing abuses. The night gave them both fever. They knew that. They illuminated their room with a thousand lamps.
This was different, however.
Their eyes lit up the wilderness.
Hatter sat down next to her, and smiled wanly.
"What do you reckon?"
"They won't get us this time."
"You sure?"
"When you think egg I think of a poach, perfect, yolk in the middle, just the right amount of wobbly."
"Wow."
"So you won't fuck me over?"
"How can I?"