The team gathered, somewhat tentatively, at the location the Wabbit had chosen. "This looks like the end of the world, Wabbit," said Lapinette. She jumped on a rock to look around. "Where better?" responded the Wabbit, He concentrated on lighting a fire. The fire steadfastly refused to light. "It's too late now," meaowed Skratch, "The Bunnyman will never find his way here." The Wabbit sniggered. "He will. I sent him a telegram with directions." Lapinette pirouetted. "I don't think you can send them anymore." Wabsworth knew everything, "You can," he said. "The International Telegram Company." The Wabbit grinned. "Yes and I got a reply." Everyone waited. "It says, 'Coming axe chop stop'." He kicked the fire. "He should be here by now." The fire flamed and thunder crackled. A voice spoke, deep and loud. "I am the Bunnyman. Don't kick my flaming fire!" The Wabbit looked upset. "You're not your usual self, Bunnyman. Where's your axe?" He could see brief glimpses of the Bunnyman in the flames. "I'm giving up on them," said the Bunnyman with a sigh. "There are only two things surer," shrugged the Wabbit, "Death and axes." The Bunnyman scowled. "You think your very funny, Wabbit." "Only on the night shift," quipped the Wabbit. "I'll be back and I'll have my axe to chop stop you!" yelled the Bunnyman. With a blood curdling howl, he vanished.
