Lapinette crept quietly towards the bay. She could see the green suits there and they didn't notice her. They bent down and scooped radioactive fluid into drums. The smell was grim, like something that crept out of the sewer. She wrinkled her nose. Then she felt in her frock for old standby weapons. The stick grenades clung to her paws. She wiped her paws and spat on them. "Rabbits don't spit," she said to herself. She steadied herself. Put her weight on her back foot. Then with two single smooth movements, she threw the missiles. The first exploded on her right. It showered small pieces of concrete on the green figures. They turned. The second left her paws with a whizzing sound that spelled destruction. They tried to run, but in the bay, it was impossible to get away. One cartwheeled down two flights of steps, another squeezed behind the canisters. "Take that for your trouble you green things!" Her yell penetrated the caverns. There was no response. All she heard was a steady radioactive drip. "Time to be going," she murmured to herself. It was her last grenade. Another blast sealed the bay behind concrete rubble. Not too far away, the Wabbit and Wabsworth hopped down endless tunnels. "Lapinette's cleaning up," smirked the Wabbit, "Putain de merde!" grinned Wabsworth.
