It happened in a flash. The spectres noticed the Wabbit and Lapinette hiding in the men's outfitters. So with a wave of their spectral cloaks, they transported them to a building on the river. Then the Wabbit and Lapinette were thrown from a height. It was where the spectres hid their stash and it clinked and clanked as money does. But it wasn't any old money. The Wabbit was falling. "What's that coin with NFT?" he gasped. "Non-Fungible Token," replied Lapinette. Her frock was flying up and she brushed it back down. NFTs had made a brief appearance as exchange items in the Dinosaur fund, but the Wabbit wasn't keen. He never got the hang of them. Lapinette grunted an explanation. "If someone made a film of us falling and we signed it, someone could buy it and it would be the only one in existence. Then some computers keep it safe." The Wabbit was none the wiser. He'd seen a machine at the Supermarket Car Park, but no-one ever used it, far less put movies in it. "Sounds like a scam," moaned the Wabbit. "It very often is," said Lapinette. She shook her head. "I think our spectres are bitcoin fraudsters." The Wabbit cast his mind back to Hardhack Rat. "I think we've been here before." Lapinette agreed. "It didn't go well." "Ground's coming up," muttered the Wabbit, "Do you think we'll bounce?" Lapinette laughed. "We usually do." The Wabbit laughed. "I'll buy you a prosecco then." "Franciacorta if you please," smirked Lapinette.
