The Wabbit and the Number of Keys

The key lifted out of the staircase, flew high above the rooftops surrounding the Old Basilica and gently swivelled. Skratch the Cat watched, flexed his paws and got ready to move as the Wabbit and Lapinette separated from the key. Puma observed them carefully as they proceeded towards three separate doorways and then he roared to Skratch. "You said stories had three keys, not doors," "Stories are far from a precise science," said Skratch calmly, rapidly unsheathing his claws. With a machine gun rattle, they made a burst of noise that awakened Lapinette and the Wabbit from their trance. "Whoooah!" yelled the Wabbit. "Ooooh!" shouted Lapinette. "What's going on?" yelled the Wabbit. "Get me down!" shouted Lapinette. Skratch lifted a reassuring paw. "Just keep going and whatever you do, don't think about being in the air." Skratch paused as the two sailed towards the doorways - and remembering the key, assessed it with suspicion. He paused for thought, then suddenly made a victory sign and shouted to Puma. "There are three keys!" "I only see one key," said Puma gravely. Skratch laughed. "Listen up Puma! When they get to the doorways, jump!" Puma looked questioningly. "You known how to jump, don't you?" said Skratch.

The Wabbit on the Spiral Staircase

Puma watched Lapinette and the Wabbit until the key pulled them up the centre of a spiral staircase, then he bounded upstairs at unstoppable speed. The key started to change colour but its every movement was measured. It cared neither for the Wabbit nor Lapinette but only for its inexorable and pre-determined path. Stuck to the key, the two were helplessly towed in its wake. Suddenly there was a feline scurrying from above and Skratch the Cat appeared from the roof. Somewhat dishevelled and panting from his journey, he looked with horror at the scene. "Puma?" he asked. "They’re stuck to the key and they don’t seem to care," growled Puma. "It’s not like them at all." Skratch’s ears vibrated. "The key is exerting some strange force," he said. "I can feel it too." Puma looked across at Skratch for direction. "We’ll scamper to the top and wait there," said Skratch. "That’s where it’s going." "Maybe there’s a door," said Puma. "If we can find it, we can stand in front of it and stop them." "That key isn’t stopping for anything," said Skratch, "and there’s one more problem." "Another problem?" groaned Puma. "In stories, there’s seldom just one key," purred Skratch. Puma growled again. "How many?" Skratch shook his head. "Three!" he sighed.

The Wabbit and the Roar of the Puma

 

The now enormous key dragged the Wabbit and Lapinette up the steps to the Old Basilica and the end glowed even brighter. Puma loped ahead on a detour and suddenly emerged in front of them. "This isn’t going well!" he hissed, "shall I get some assistance?" Both the Wabbit and Lapinette shook their heads. "No, no." said the Wabbit, "we can handle this, can’t we Lapinette?" "Of course we can," said Lapinette quietly. "Who better at key handling than us?" Puma looked at them with a worried face. "They might be embarrassed," thought Puma, "but I can’t let this go on. I’m going to get help anyway." Puma let out an enormous roar that shook the branches and made the Wabbit’s fur stand up sharply. "What was that for, Puma?" asked the Wabbit. "It’s my key handling roar," lied Puma and he did it again. The Wabbit shrugged and continued to follow the key helplessly. But far across the city outside a small repertory cinema, Skratch the Cat pricked up his ears. "Puma needs help," he said to himself and he listened attentively. "Yes there it is!” he purred and he started to trot quickly. But Skratch heard another sound that was somewhere between a scream and a shriek. His trot gave way to a lope and the lope to a bound. Soon he was on the edge of the city and heading up the hillside. 

The Wabbit and the Fatal Attraction

The key pulled the Wabbit all the way to the funicular railway and as it proceeded down the platform it began to glow slightly at the end. The Wabbit’s paws were glued to the key by a strange magnetic force and he could only hop along with it. But just as he got to the front of the train, Lovely Lapinette got off. "Oh, hello Wabbit, I wasn’t expecting you!" Then she stopped and stared. "What’s with the gigantic glowing key, Wabbit?” The Wabbit shrugged. "Is this one of your tricks?" she sighed. "No trick," said the Wabbit brightly. "He’s got himself stuck to the key," purred Puma, "and it’s taking him somewhere." The Wabbit’s paws were getting tired and again he tried to pull them from the key but to no avail. The Wabbit gave a wry smile. "We’ll find out in due course," he said with optimism. "Shall I try to pull it off?" said Lapinette, hopping down from the step. She stretched forward and held out a helpful paw. "No!" cried the Wabbit and Puma at one and the same time. Lapinette had only stretched in the direction of the key, but some irresistible force gripped her and propelled her forward. "Grrrr!" said Lapinette, shaking a paw that was now stuck fast to the key. "Too late," growled Puma. 

The Wabbit gets Pulled

The rusty old key became larger and larger - and as it grew the magnetic force increased. It was completely stuck to the Wabbit and he had no choice but to let it pull him along. The key took him onto the hillside and he hopped quietly behind it because he knew the path quite well. He was thinking about how to detach from the key and had come up with several unworkable ideas when he was interrupted by a recognisable voice from behind. "Hello Wabbit!" The Wabbit hadn't bargained on hopping into anyone he knew and he felt slightly embarrassed about explaining. He wasn't really able to look back because all his efforts were concentrated on the key. "Hello Puma," he said, without turning. "What's happening Wabbit?" answered Puma. "Oh just some small key business," said the Wabbit and he kept going because he had little option. Puma paused and growled a little. "I don't believe you," he said. "Besides, it's a very large key. And you seem to be stuck to it." "I'm trying to find out where it's going," said the Wabbit. "It's taking you where it's going," said Puma, "so I'm calling in help." "Not at all," said the Wabbit. "Then I'll come with you," said Puma. "OK," sighed the Wabbit. "Just don't touch the key." "You got the right key, but no keyhole," hummed Puma and he loped along after him.

The Wabbit finds a Secret Key

The Wabbit was between adventures and it was a place he didn't like. So he chose to wander through Pluto Park for a constitutional hop and time to think. He hopped and hopped and thought about this and that. But when he passed the decorative girders he admired, he looked at the rust - and for an instant he was at one with the little flakes of iron, turning red in the passage of time. "Time and tide wait for no rabbit," he mused. He was pleased with that and tried another saying. "Pass therefore not today in vain," muttered the Wabbit, "for it will never come again." Just before he became maudlin, a metallic clink caught his attention and his ears swivelled. There, on an iron ledge, lay a rusty key. It was rather large with a barrel stem, but despite its rust and age, tell tale scratches told the Wabbit it had been recently used. "A secret key," gasped the Wabbit. He paused for a moment and tried to think what door the key would fit. He could think of no such door. "I need to find the door for this key," said the Wabbit, "and then I can return the key to the owner." But as the Wabbit touched the key, he was instantly seized by a powerful magnetic force and he couldn't shake it free. The Wabbit stared. "Looks like the key comes with me," he sighed.

The Wabbit hosts the Adventure Caffè

The Wabbit was just about to order when in walked his Special Guest. He raised a paw in salute and Duetta the Red Spider made a squiggly wave. "Duetta, you saved the day!" cried Lapinette. "It was all in the Wabbit's plan," said Duetta. The Wabbit didn't look around, but he knew Skratch the Cat was approaching and he braced himself for the inevitable and silently mouthed the words he knew were coming. "Wabbit!" cried Skratch, "what kind of adventure were we just in?"  The Wabbit was about to say something - but Skratch drew himself up to his full height and kept going. "It fell roughly into a new genre called "natural horror", which is, in itself, a sub genre of eco-horror." "Hah," shouted the Wabbit with glee. "Genre is merely a commercial device to attract the audience." "No, no," said Lapinette. "Genre is a negotiation between the audience and the adventure, so that everyone knows where they are."  Marshall Duetta Spyder laughed. "You're all wrong," she smiled. "It was a satire about the popularity of bad food." "What do you consider good food, Duetta?" asked Lapinette. "The dissolved insides of small insects," said Duetta.