3. The Wabbit and the Ghostly Coins

The Wabbit and Lapinette were drawn to a nearby church. They entered with trepidation since there was a gloomy feel to it. The pile of coins surprised them. They looked genuine enough, but they were outsize - as if in a sale for the larger person. "What do you make of this, Lapinette?" Lapinette shook her head. "I just don't know. It's like they were intended for a ghostly children's party." There was a chill in the air and it made the Wabbit's fur stand on end. "We're not alone. But don't look behind you." Lapinette knew the Wabbit's special glasses enabled him to see to the rear. The Wabbit could see three spectres and he grumbled, "Why are they always in threes?" They hopped to the other side of the coins and risked looking back. The spectres advanced slowly until they reached the Wabbit and Lapinette. Then they passed through them as if they weren't there. The Wabbit felt an internal shudder and so did Lapinette. They turned to watch them float to the back of the church. The spectres made a clinking clanking sound as they exited. The Wabbit and Lapinette turned back. The coins had vanished. "I think these are your observers." Lapinette half smiled. Now it was the Wabbit's turn to smile. With a shake of his head he muttered. "No good following them I suppose, they're following me. Where have I seen them before?" Lapinette thought for a minute. "From what you told me, they're similar to the ones from that Ghost Ferry." The Wabbit looked pensive. "Yep, I could see right through them."

2. The Wabbit under Surveillance

The following day the Wabbit took Lapinette for a hop in the EUR district. He explained to Lapinette about the architectural style of the Fascist period. "It's rationalist," he said. Oh I know all that," said Lapinette. She explained about the original plan. "I think these were office buildings," said the Wabbit. "Still are," smiled Lapinette. There was a pregnant pause. "I see a shadow up there!" shouted the Wabbit. "They're after me." The Wabbit still insisted he was under surveillance. "Probably just a trick of the light," replied Lapinette, "Just because a shadow appears on a balcony doesn't mean you're being followed." They strolled paw in paw along the street. "Didn't we visit an air raid shelter around here." The Wabbit wouldn't let it go. "Yes," agreed Lapinette, "Well, you insisted there was a monster in there." The Wabbit was appalled. "There was a monster!" Lapinette stood her ground. "It was hardly a monster. It was one of your doppelgangers." "It had my blood," groaned the Wabbit, "Wasn't a Wabphage creature monster enough." Lapinette sighed. "A single shadow isn't surveillance; it's not doing anything." The Wabbit turned around. Just then, the shadow waved and vanished. "But I saw that. It's overt surveillance. It wanted you to see it." Now Lapinette looked worried. "It might be using AI." The Wabbit turned back. The shadow appeared again. "Facial recognition," said Lapinette. The Wabbit made a silly face and stuck his tongue out. The shadow vanished again. The Wabbit shrugged. "Now I know how to get rid of it." 

1. The Wabbit and the Surveillance Factor

The Wabbit was hopping on a stroll near Via Aurelia. He felt as if he was being watched. He glanced around. "Hello Wabbit," said Wabsworth. Commander Wabsworth was the Wabbit's android copy. That copy had been made quite some time ago, so Wabsworth was now rather different from the original. "I felt I was being watched," said the Wabbit. "That was me," replied Wabsworth. The Wabbit shook his head. "No, I knew you were sneaking up. Someone else." Wabsworth laughed. "You're a secret agent, it's in your job description." The Wabbit scanned the buildings. "I didn't know I had one." Wabsworth stuck his paw in his fur, a bit like the Wabbit. "It's a secret." The Wabbit smirked. "You think you're funny." "We both are, but I'm funnier than you!" said Wabsworth. They laughed and hopped together for a while. "Have you got any enemies, maybe?" asked Wabsworth. "Does the Pope keep bears in the woods?" replied the Wabbit. "Hmmm," mused Wabsworth. The Wabbit smiled to himself. "Do you still have an off-switch?" Wabsworth grimaced and snarled. "If you had one, would you tell anyone?" Wabsworth had no sense of humour about that particular question and the Wabbit knew it. "Still got that feeling? asked Wabsworth. "I have," groaned the Wabbit. "If he gets any closer," sighed Wabsworth," we'll have to buy him a coffee." "And a cornuto!" quipped the Wabbit.

The Wabbit and his Adventure Caffè

At Lapinette's insistence the team gathered at the Coin Excelsior Department Store in Via Cola di Rienzo. Lapinette had been lingering at Tiffany's on the bottom floor in the hope that the Wabbit would roll up with money. This he had failed to do - and instead, met her on an upper floor. Lapinette jumped in the air. "I see a frock I'd like. It's over there." The Wabbit had seen the price tag. "Maybe I could mobilise some cash from the Dinosaur Fund," he thought. "Working expenses," he smiled, "But we have to go to our Adventure Caffè. Look. Here's Wabsworth and Skratch." The Caffè was in the basement, not far from Tiffany's. The Wabbit's eyes narrowed. "Let's go and look at that frock first." They all linked paws and made their way. "What was that for an adventure you just had?" asked Wabsworth. The Wabbit paused. Skratch jumped in. "It was harum scarum adventure that elicited a fast emotional response from the reader." Wabsworth shook his head. "That doesn't quite cover it. It was disorientating and frantic." Lapinette was dragging the Wabbit's paw. "Non-linear structure and repetitive motifs," she panted. "I rest my case," meaowed Skratch. "It was a network of thematic isotopies," he added. "What?" yelled the Wabbit. Lapinette stopped in her tracks and forgot all about the frock. "Eek," she screamed. "I made that up," smiled Skratch.

7. The Wabbit and Lapinette Philosophise

Lapinette watched the Wabbit jump through the hole at the end of the tunnel. He turned and beckoned. "We're near Via Giulia!" he exclaimed. "We can get the bus." Lapinette didn't hesitate. She jumped through too, then looked behind her. The hole closed and there was only brickwork. "How does that work?" she said to the wall. The wall wasn't saying. "Or we could go to da Luigi's. I'm hungry," shrugged the Wabbit. Lapinette confessed to being a bit peckish herself. So they turned and made their way along Via Giulia. "What was that all about?" She was used to strange things happening, but that seemed without purpose. "I suppose it was to remind us that we should always be prepared." The Wabbit was having a philosophical turn. "You sound like a Boy Scout." sighed Lapinette. "Be prepared to be entertained," quipped the Wabbit. Lapinette couldn't help giggling. "Your jokes are really not very funny." The Wabbit smiled. "Like being trapped inside a hole filled with water. I meant well." That's a very dreary joke, Wabbit," groaned Lapinette. They laughed and hopped along, paw in paw. "Shall we visit that charity shop?" asked the Wabbit. "It's only open at weird times," replied Lapinette. "We could break in," suggested the Wabbit. "Rob a charity shop. Now that's funny!" exclaimed Lapinette. "No. We could leave our old stuff there," smiled the Wabbit.

6. The Wabbits down under the City

The Wabbit and Lapinette were enveloped in darkness, then they were tumbling in the depths of the city. It was wet and carried with it the stench of generations of stuff from carts and horses to chariots. Even elephants. And a million old togas left in a corner, wet and mouldy, to wreck their reek on the Wabbits. Lapinette could see the ground coming up quickly and it was layered with poo. "This isn't the Franciacorta I was expecting!" She landed with a splat. "Or even cut-price Prosecco of dubious origin." The Wabbit was equally scathing. His paws gripped the slimy brickwork, and he pulled himself up to a hole in the wall. "That stationery cabinet, I'll kill it!" Lapinette pulled dry cleaning material from the depths of her frock and dabbed here and there. "You can't kill a stationery cabinet!" The Wabbit's 28 teeth flashed. "Watch me!" Lapinette was more interested in getting out. The hideous stench was getting to her. "What on earth did they do in Ancient Rome to keep clean?" The Wabbit gave a wry laugh. "They probably didn't bother." "The senators must have been clean," exclaimed Lapinette. "Everyone was clean and they dumped dirty stuff down here!" shouted the Wabbit, "Out of sight, out of mind." Lapinette succeeded in getting her frock clean. "Regulations?" "Hah, plenty no doubt!" exclaimed the Wabbit. He looked around. "There's a tunnel over there! Could be a way out. And there's a light." "That would brighten my day," exclaimed Lapinette.

5. The Wabbit and the Bottom Drawer

Back at the office, Lapinette and the Wabbit explored the stationery cabinet. "What's all that stuff?" asked Lapinette. It looked almost neat for the Wabbit. "Things I don't know how to categorise," he replied. "So where are all the Prosecco miniatures?" Lapinette was indignant. "The Cabinet said they were there." The Wabbit shrugged his shoulders. There was a faint tinkling sound. A bottle materialised. "That's hardly a miniature," scoffed Lapinette. They looked at it. "I'm going to open it," said Lapinette. Her voice was firm and she meant what she said. The Wabbit wasn't so sure. "It might be a trick," he said. "You think everything is a trick," said Lapinette. "What's the worse that can happen?" asked Lapinette. The Wabbit thought for a second. "We have no chilled glasses," he said. Lapinette reached into her frock and pulled out two chilled glasses. "How do you do that?" asked the Wabbit. "A built-in micro Pelter cooler," answered Lapinette. The Wabbit nodded as if he knew what that was. "Now it's your job to open the bottle," said Lapinette. The Wabbit touched the cork. It popped. He sniffed it. "It's actually Franciacorta," he smiled. They sipped it. A euphoric feeling enveloped them. Then they were crammed in the bottom drawer along with the stationery. "That was indeed a trick," grumbled the Wabbit. He groaned as the drawer slid shut.  

4. The Wabbit and the Manhole Cover

The second the Wabbit touched the bottom drawer he was thrust onto a dark stairway. He seemed to have no option but to climb it. At the top, a cover blocked his way. He heaved against it. It wouldn't budge. He yelled. Nothing happened. But he noticed a chink of light. He slipped the cover up and across, only to see Lapinette. She reached out a paw. "I thought I could hear you shouting. What are you doing in there? Why are your ears misshapen?" She touched them. His ears returned to normal. "I wish I knew," growled the Wabbit, "Lapinette, how did you get here?" Lapinette smiled. "Your location tracker is on." The Wabbit climbed out but got his foot stuck. "I never knew I had one." "New departmental policy," replied Lapinette. The Wabbit shook his head. "Do you have one?" he asked. "I'm exempt," laughed Lapinette, "due to my rank." Lapinette had such an impossibly high rank that the Wabbit didn't know what it was. He scowled, and scrambled all the way onto the sidewalk. "Where does that tunnel come out?" said Lapinette. "In a secret bottom drawer in my office," mused the Wabbit, "I didn't know it was there. Then I couldn't find my way back." Lapinette had a think. "Anything special about it?" The Wabbit cast his mind back. The filing cabinet said the bottom drawer had Prosecco in it." Lapinette turned on her heel. "Let's go to your office and find that Prosecco." The Wabbit cheered up. "That sounds like a plan!" 

3. The Wabbit's Stationery Cupboard

The second hand twitched and the Wabbit was hurled across the room, barely escaping being trapped in the top drawer of his stationery cabinet. Even though it held all his glue and bluetack and Sellotape, he didn't stick. He found himself hurled into the air, bloated like a filthy toad with a secret spite. "I don't like this!" he yelled. "What did I ever do to you?" The cupboard failed to reply. The door slammed closed. The Wabbit was annoyed because he'd purchased the cabinet in good faith. "Stupid cupboard!" he yelled, "I'm not using your company again!" He spiralled round and round. He noticed a cable sticking from the desk. It was an attempt to keep a tidy office, a strategy that had never worked and probably never would - but he grabbed it nonetheless. It had some slack and he reeled it in. As he reeled, he became less bloated. "As long as I don't turn into a battery charger," he murmured. At last he returned to his normal size. "Thanks," he said to the charger cable. "To whom do I owe the pleasure?" "I'm one of the many you keep here," it said. "You can call me Loomy. I'm lightweight, adaptable and fairly fast." The Wabbit looked at him. "Shall I tidy you?" "No, no! I'm one of a kind," said Loomy, "No USB connection for me." The Wabbit regarded him benignly. "Any chance of a liquid refreshment around here?" Loomy twisted into a wavy line that looked like a smile. "Prosecco miniatures in the bottom drawer. My private stock."

2. The Wabbit and the Minute Hand

The Wabbit was bemused. He might have been shocked but he was seldom shocked or astonished. He was on the minute hand of a clock and shuddering each time it moved. "Perplexed," he said to himself. As he went round the perspective changed and things became upside down, then the right way up. He noticed a temperature gauge. "It's not 25'C degrees or anything like," he murmured." "In fact, this isn't even the correct time. It's about 7 minutes fast." He hummed a tune. "And you run, and you run, to catch up with the sun, but it's racing around, to come up behind you again." His head reached six. He felt a little dizzy, but he was soon on his way to twelve. "How did I get here?" he asked himself. "Time to ask yourself," answered a voice. "The trouble with you is that you never stop long enough to ask yourself why." The minute hand stopped suddenly with such force that the Wabbit nearly fell off. He hopped towards the centre. "Careful," said the voice," you'll upset my movement." The Wabbit knew a thing or two about clocks. "You're not moving so fast here in the centre." They paused for thought. "Did you know," said the voice, "that young people aren't being taught to read this kind of clock? Or rather, they can't." Now the Wabbit was astonished. He could read any clock: Atomic clocks, quartz clocks, cuckoo clocks, steam clocks, sundials. The list was almost endless. "We may be living on borrowed time," he quipped.