The team assembled at the MAXXI museum Caffè. Lapinette was in an ebullient mood. She attached to one of the pillars and scaled it in an instant. Skratch was appalled. "This is a place of high art. Come down at once." The Wabbit grinned. "She's been in a fine adventure and she's only letting off steam!" Lapinette yelled "Victory!" and slid down at great speed. Wabsworth chipped in, "We got the movie, chased down the bad guys, located the coordinates and saved the day." Skratch was bemused, "Who for?" The Wabbit took pleasure in saying it. "Us." Lapinette had returned to normal. "That story was a European tour de force. It foregrounded the signifier at least seven times." Skratch meaowed. "It was but a MacGuffin!" Wabsworth thought that most funny. "If it's good enough for Hitchcock, its good enough for us. Boundaries were blurred between reality and the unconscious." Lapinette bounded in the air. "An inter-semiotic translation!" Skratch wasn't impressed. "The transgression of spatial boundaries is a sure sign of nothing to talk about." He winked at Lapinette. She winked back and re-climbed the pole. "She'll start to speak French again," shrugged the Wabbit. "My forebears were French," she said. "Then where's that rare French wine?" asked Wabsworth. "I have a bottle of Veuve Clicquot 1841 in my frock," replied Lapinette. "Let's see it!" Now the Wabbit was ebullient. Lapinette fluttered her eyes and gave him a come hither glance. "Come and get it!"
