The Wabbit and Skratch the Cat dived for the ice cream kiosk
in the New Talmone Caffè and looked out. With the speed of light, a vast web
dropped like a curtain - and as the portico darkened, Marshall Duetta and her
Red Spiders descended on their victims like a horde of locusts. Skratch
and the Wabbit could only watch as relentlessly, the Spiders snared the Spam.
Normally the portico would be busy. But local inhabitants had learned to read
the signs and there was absolute silence - except for the clicking and
snickering of spidery legs and the odd squeal of a captured Spam. The Wabbit
dug Skratch in the ribs, and in return Skratch slapped the Wabbit on the back.
"Do you fancy an ice cream?" asked the Wabbit. "Oh I don’t mind
if I do," said Skratch. The Wabbit looked down at a vast variety of ice
cream. "There’s still some of Wabsworth's old Spam flavour," he observed. Skratch
grimaced. "If you don’t mind I’d rather have vanilla." "Plain
old vanilla?" said the Wabbit. "Where’s your innovative
cuisine?" "I left it in the back of a drawer, where it belongs,"
said Skratch. "Well, I’m going to have carrot flavour," said the
Wabbit. Skratch sighed "You always have carrot flavour." "Why
change a winning formula?" grinned the Wabbit.
