Frank: But I don't want to go among mad people.
The Cat: Oh, you can't help that. We're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad.
Frank: How do you know I'm mad?
The Cat: You must be. Or you wouldn't have come here.
Frank: And how do you know that you're mad?
The Cat: To begin with, a dog's not mad. You grant that?
Frank: I suppose so,
The Cat: Well, then, you see, a dog growls when it's angry, and wags its tail when it's pleased. Now I growl when I'm pleased, and wag my tail when I'm angry. Therefore I'm mad.
As the story goes, what the Queen of Chicago wants the Queen of Chicago gets. The Chesire Mayor laughs all the way to more exposure and one step closer to the Daleympics. Every loyal subject will be giddy to happily oblige her majesty and down the rabbit stink hole we all will go.
I am Frank Chow and I approved this message