Skratch the Cat showed the Alien Pilot into a rather sordid-looking viewing theatre in the Via Nizza, locking the door behind him. "Take a
seat, the Wabbit will be with you soon." The screen lit up and loudspeakers hissed. "This is a two-way link, Mr Pilot," said the Wabbit in an echoing voice. "You may speak now." The
Pilot stared at the screen. "Where’s my money?" he shouted. For a moment the screen flickered. "You made a deal," yelled the
Pilot. "I did point you in my direction," lied the Wabbit, "but where is the
valuable asteroid real estate?" "Hidden," said the Pilot. "That won't do," said the Wabbit, "because location is everything." "I want cash," said the Pilot. "Life is short and so is money," laughed Skratch. The Pilot looked at him threateningly. "My asteroid is composed of valuable material and I want compensation." "It must be mined," said the Wabbit. "You need a licence," said Skratch" "I want 79 trillion," said the Pilot. "Did I say net or gross?" asked the Wabbit. "You always say gross,
Wabbit," advised Skratch helpfully. "Then take it or leave it!" shouted the Wabbit. "Aaaaagh!" scowled the Pilot and he struck a fist on his seat. The Wabbit smiled
sickeningly from the screen. "Listen carefully, Pilot. I will pay, but you have to take it to a designated place for conversion - unless you want euro." "I’d rather die," said the Pilot. "I have a licence for that," said the Wabbit.
