The Wabbit and his Adventure Caffè

A slap-up lunch was called for and the Wabbit said he would host it. Skratch was late as usual, but unapologetic. Wabsworth and Lapinette arrived first or so they thought. The Wabbit had concealed himself by the serving area and he called out, "Welcome everyone." Lapinette knew he was there all along. "I thought you weren't coming Wabbit," she smiled. It was a hot day, and the sun bleached the sidewalk. The Wabbit laughed. "Me? Miss the Adventure Caffè? Not likely ... Here's Skratch!" Skratch arrived late to make an entrance. "Ask me the question," he cried. "OK, Skratch my turn!" said Wabsworth, "What was that for a sort of adventure?" Skratch pretended to ponder. "It was about imagining the future." Lapinette pounced. "A future that's already here!" The Wabbit rapped his paw on a chair. "I don't think that matters. It's a design fiction. We created a narrative imaginary world. A map of sorts." Lapinette smiled. "A disarticulated form. It questions the narratological shape between fiction and reality." "If indeed we can speak of a reality," meaowed Skratch, "that Umberto Eco would have questioned in specularity." Wabsworth snorted. "Yet possible worlds have been around since Aristotle." Skratch grunted. "Maybe but possible worlds are stipulated, we don't need binoculars." The Wabbit's head was beginning to spin. "Does that stipulation get us a drink any quicker?" Skratch laughed. "You know Wabbit, it just might."

[I'm indebted to Mirko Gentile in 'Where are the flying cars? Exploring the role of SF in the construction of experiential futures.' Lexia Journal of Semiotics 45-46] 

6. The Wabbit and the Fresh Beach

Turbina's jet exploded with a blast that would awaken the dead. The blast included the extra odours at which Turbina was adept. He moved at the speed of light. The beach looked pleasant, but the cushion was still there. "I thought you were sending us back," said the Wabbit. The cushion curled into a shape that the Wabbit didn't like. "We wanted to make sure you were back and that you stayed well and truly back. Do not pester us with your maleficent odours again." The cushion began to dissipate and before long it had disappeared entirely. Wabsworth grinned. "What was that all about?" The Wabbit looked cheerful. "I don't rightly know, but here we are." He called to a beach bar for two proseccos. "This place looks familiar," observed Wabsworth. "Fregene," stated the Wabbit. "Quiet," said Wabsworth. "End of the summer," replied the Wabbit. Wabsworth looked at the Wabbit with horror. "It's 34 degrees, the sun is shining and the beach is sultry." The Wabbit merely shrugged. "It's the end of the summer and that's why no-one is here." Wabsworth leaned back and took in the scene. "I'm glad I'm an android, I'll never understand humanity," he murmured. "So what about me?" said Turbina, "I'm parked illegally on the beach." The Wabbit threw back his head and roared with laughter. "This is near Rome and frankly we don't give a damn." "I see our proseccos coming," said Wabsworth. "I want one too," said Turbina. "Non-alcoholic?" asked the Wabbit. "Have you lost all reason?" said Turbina.   

5. The Wabbit and the Smelly Kinkdom

Clouds billowed in! They found themselves surrounded by air cushions and they were none too happy. The one on the right had a ferocious expression and he smelled quite rank. "This is the Cloud Kinkdom and we argue all the time about how kinky we are," said the first air cushion. Turbina butted in. "Perhaps you could argue about how to reduce your smell."  They started to argue again. "That's the whole point," said the second, and he let out an enormous fart. "I'm getting out of here," said Turbina, but she couldn't make her wheels move. "I'm going to fire up all my gases, then have a right good clean up." Wabsworth covered his nose. She was as good as her word. All her turbine waste came pouring out. The first air cushion was aghast. He'd never smelled anything like it. "Styuck, yuk poo," he exclaimed. The second merely keeled over in a dead faint. "How do you manage!" he groaned. "Oh, we do, it's hard but we do," said the Wabbit. Secretly he gave a thumbs up to Turbina. Wabsworth encouraged her. "What about your second stage emissions?" he asked. Turbina emitted the ghastliest smell the Wabbit had ever known. His  fur curled like a snake stepped on it - but he didn't show it. "We're sending you back," said the cushion entities. The clouds cleared. They were sitting on a beach with clear air all around. "That blew me away," joked the Wabbit. Turbina erupted. Her wheels span and a sea of sand sprayed. "If it happens again, I'll blow you away, Commander!"

4. The Wabbit and the Air Kinkdom

The Air Cushion Entity took them across Rome and into a heavily guarded building. "Take no notice," he chortled, "This is all my domain. You are recognised as acceptable." Turbina made a comfortable landing. "What do we do now?" asked the Wabbit. "Nothing," said the Cushion entity. He settled into the waiting grooves. They seemed to have been made for him. The Wabbit noticed how kinky they were. "Are you always this kinky?" he asked, "I strive to be," said the Cushion. "Can you be kinky on your own?" asked Wabsworth. "I am many and we may take on whatever form we wish." The Cushion as adamant. "Would you like a refreshment?" "I thought you'd never ask," replied the Wabbit. The Wabbit was enveloped in a fine spray of Prosseco and so was Wabsworth. "This is kinky," said Wabsworth. He turned on his Prosecco enjoyment sub routine. "I'm all sticky," muttered Turbina. The Cushion responded by showering the car interior with a fragrant anti-static cleaning material. "What about a sandwich?" asked Turbina. "I only do liquids," laughed the Cushion. "I have a pulverised version." Turbina shuddered. The Wabbit fished in his fur and handed Turbina a salad sandwich. "Emergency rations," he grinned. The Wabbit looked around. "What takes place here?" "Very little," hooted the cushion, "it's a place to be." The Wabbit and Wabsworth got out of Turbina. The Wabbit struggled a bit, "Doesn't get any easier, does it?" grunted Wabsworth, "But would you like another prosecco?" The Wabbit leaped out with ease.