4. Skratch and the Spare Tickets

Skratch the Cat flourished a banner and meaowed as loud as a cat might meaow. "Remaining tickets for the Wabbit and Lapinette Photo Expo!" But passersby were few and trade sporadic. He tried screeching. "Nearly sold out, last few here." Nothing. He considered changing his pitch. "Three for the price of two. Fun guaranteed." Jenny rolled into sight. "What's happening, Skratch?" Skratch grinned ear to ear. "I'm driving business along." Jenny viewed the empty street and shook her head. "Let me assist you." She leaned to kiss Skratch and while he was distracted, stole the tickets from his paw. She waved them around threateningly. "Get your tickets now or else!" Tickets sold well. Jenny grew persistent. "Bring your own photographs. Enter the Selfie Surprise!" Soon, all tickets had gone. "Tell me about this selfie thing," said Skratch. "It's Tipsy's idea," replied Jenny; "The public buy the tickets and provide exhibits." "I should have thought of that," moaned Skratch. "Losing your touch?" grinned Jenny. She swayed in a pirate fashion. Her lips pouted. "What's that behind your back?" purred Skratch. "A photograph of a gun," said Jenny in a sultry voice. Skratch gasped in admiration and moved dangerously close. "I have a real one in my jacket," warned Jenny.

3. Tipsy and the Genial Host

Wabsworth met Tipsy from the tram. "Is that for me?" smiled Tipsy. She leaped from the tram, neatly scooping the glass of wine into her paw and draining it in a single gulp. Wabsworth produced another. "You are invited to open the Wabbit's photo expo," he explained. Tipsy hopped up and down. "Then I must pwactise my speech." Wabsworth gently shook his head. "The Wabbit said no fuss, no frills." Tipsy took a radio from under her frock and started calling. "This is a general announcement. The Wabbit and Lapinette are having a photo expo." Several voices crackled. Tipsy held the radio close to her lips and whispered. "No fruss, no fills." A lengthy series of voices shouted. Tipsy listened to them all. "No, I don't know if you're in the photos. Bwing your own." The radio bleeped and screamed. "No, don't tell a single soul." whispered Tipsy. She faced away and issued a series of breathy inaudible commands. Wabsworth's radio crackled. He lifted it to his ear and spoke. "Everything proceeds according to plan, Commander." With his other paw he refilled Tipsy's glass. She took it without looking and vanished into the tram. The doors hissed and started to close. Wabsworth squeezed through at the very last moment and called to the driver. "Movie Museum!" "Subito," said the driver ...

2. The Wabbit and the Gratis Venue

The Wabbit and Lapinette assessed the movie museum as a likely venue for their photo exhibition. They were about to make a final decision, when Moloch peered over the balcony rail. "May I be of assistance?" "We need an exhibition space," smiled Lapinette. "Then look no further," boomed Moloch. "We have all you might require: walls, seats, rest rooms, stairs, lifts - all that sort of thing. And a bar and a restaurant." "What kind of a bar?" asked the Wabbit. "Wild West of course!" replied Moloch. The Wabbit was delighted but he wanted to know how much it would cost. Moloch tut tut tutted. "No cost. I'm on the Board as the ex officio advisor on Sacrifices." "We couldn't possibly impose on your generous nature," giggled Lapinette. Moloch drew himself to his full height (which was considerable) and spoke with authority. "A not-for-profit activity in pursuit of community cohesion, attracts no particular charge." Lapinette raised a paw. "May we sell copies of our original and exciting images?" "In the shop," laughed Moloch. The Wabbit clapped his paws. "Then it's a done deal." "Just one thing," added Moloch. Lapinette and the Wabbit glanced at each other. Moloch's wings rose menacingly. "I'll be signing copies of Cabiria: Moloch's Final Cut." "What could possible go wrong?" chirped the Wabbit.

1 The Wabbit and the Photo Show

Lapinette caught up with the Wabbit near the film museum. He was critically eyeing the street and toying with camera settings. Lapinette tapped him on the shoulder. "Wabbit, the lens cap is on." The Wabbit took a photograph. "It's fake," he chortled; "The cap is a holographic projection and to all interests and purposes, transparent." He pointed it directly at a passerby. The shutter clicked. The passerby smiled. "You'll get nothing with that cap on, me old bunny." Lapinette watched him go and grinned. "Maybe we should mount a photo show." The Wabbit thought for a moment. "How much should we charge?" "An exorbitant amount," suggested Lapinette; "People will flock." She pointed at the billboard and sighed. "Look at that, I rest my case." "Animals in Films," shrugged the Wabbit; "Always with the good deeds." "Indomitable and courageous and usually dogs," added Lapinette. The Wabbit's camera clicked again. "Not like us," he smiled. "No-one is," nodded Lapinette. The shutter fired again. "We need a theme, a venue, and a time." said Lapinette. "And a bar," added the Wabbit. "Waiters will circulate with delicious tit bits," said Lapinette. "Luminaries will make speeches," murmured the Wabbit. He thought again, long and hard. "Couldn't we just exhibit in the streets?" "Right here in our own town!" laughed Lapinette.

The Wabbit at the Adventure Caffè

It was chilly, but they chose to sit outside anyway. Lapinette scanned the list. "What's it to be?" asked the Wabbit. Lapinette wrinkled her nose. "It's all newfangled stuff." "I'll have a Prosecco Pouncer," said the Wabbit. Jenny leaned across the table and scowled. "Make mine a Rum Rockeroony." Wabsworth ran his cocktail sub routine. "Beer Runner," he announced. As Lapinette called the waiter, Skratch the Cat ambled around the corner yelling the usual question. "What would you call that for a sort of adventure?" Wabsworth smiled. "It was a form of mythological gesturing where everything indicated everything else." Skratch whisked a spare chair into position. "Like the X Files?" Lapinette raised a paw. "The inexplicable is explained through further inexplicabilities." "Nothing is knowable," laughed Skratch. There was a pause. "So how would we know that?" laughed Wabsworth. "Touché," meowed Skratch. They chortled, but Lapinette was anxious to ask a question about the adventure. "Tibbar said he was neither alive nor dead." Wabsworth leaned gently forward. "That suggests that he has the capacity to be alive or dead." The Wabbit had an idea. "Then maybe Tibbar is in a third state, in a liminality of perpetual waiting." "Where's our drinks?" sighed Lapinette.
[Wabsworth may be referring to  Lucretius, Nothing Is Knowable, and More (De Rerum Natura, 4.469-477)]

8. The Wabbit and the Lucky Charm

The Wabbit knew he couldn't detain a shape shifter. Besides, he didn't feel like it. He led Tibbar through the city and stopped near Porta Nuova Station. "You want me to take a train out of town?" asked Tibbar. The Wabbit shook his head. "Whatever you like Tibbar. Here's a gift for your travels." He delved into his fur and pulled out a band of pure carrot. It pulsed translucent orange and every few seconds it hummed pleasantly. "A tracking device?" smiled Tibbar, "It won't work on me." "It's a good luck charm," flounced the Wabbit. He plucked another object from his fur. It was an amulet comprising three double carrots, which together made up an orange star. It glinted in the streetlights. The Wabbit gently fastened the amulet to the band. "It won't work unless it's a gift." "Why?" asked Tibbar. "Because luck only happens to other rabbits," shrugged the Wabbit. "Where do the trains go?" asked Tibbar, after some thought. "Places that aren't even dreamed about," said the Wabbit with a nod. Tibbar returned the nod and set off along towards the station at a leisurely lope. Wabsworth and Lapinette hopped to catch up with the Wabbit but suddenly stopped. Traffic was in tilt. Screeching brakes and loud angry shouts rent the air. "Just a lucky charm?" said Wabsworth. "Much more than that," smiled the Wabbit.

7. Wabsworth and the Known Foe

Wabsworth picked up the creature and pushed it to the edge of the stairs. It teetered for a second and said one word. Wabsworth hit it with the carrot. It pitched down the steps and lay crumpled in the stairwell. It shimmered and became liquid but just as quickly became solid again. It tried again without success. With a gasp, it pushed its back to the wall. It coughed. Wabsworth raised his cudgel again. "Please, No more carrots," groaned the creature. The Wabbit hopped to the bottom of the stairs and prodded the creature with a foot. "Tibbar, I thought you were dead." Tibbar groaned. "I don't think of myself as dead or alive." The Wabbit laughed, "Then I won't put out a wanted poster for you." Tibbar hissed and his eye flashed. Wabsworth shouldered his carrot and hopped down to the join the Wabbit. "I don't know this Tibbar." The Wabbit kept a careful eye on Tibbar because he knew him to be both powerful and cunning. "He's a freelance pest." Tibbar tied to shift shape but he was too weak. The Wabbit pushed him against the wall. "The body in the Carrot Club?" "That was me," said Tibbar. "And the hanging agent at the Department?" asked Wabsworth. He raised his carrot and shook it. "Me," nodded Tibbar quickly. Lapinette called from upstairs. "What about my abduction?" "Sorry," moaned Tibbar. "You'll be so sorrier," yelled Lapinette.
[Tibbar's first appearance was in an adventure called Camera Converto.  Tibbar ("rabbit" backwards) is here.]

6. The Wabbit in the Safe House

The three retired to the Safe House to talk and get to the bottom of things. "I wish Skratch was here. He could really help with this mystery," said the Wabbit. At that very moment Skratch loped into the dining room. He waved to everyone to keep quiet and gestured. Lapinette pointed to a question mark hanging where the exit sign used to be. Wabsworth gazed at his drink and pretended not to notice. Skratch hissed and waved his paws. He meaowed rapidly about his last film class. He spoke of modernism and defying erotetic models then gave a lengthy discourse on narrative structure. It seemed like gibberish but the Wabbit knew it was code. He nudged Lapinette beneath the table and winked at Wabsworth. "Let's drop the case," he smiled. "We'll never find the answer." Lapinette sensed a movement from behind the door. She picked up her glass and proposed a toast to unsolved cases. Wabsworth quietly left the room via the kitchens. Skratch continued his discourse. Lapinette's ears swivelled. She hopped silently backwards and gripped the door handle. They heard scurrying on the stairs, then a shout and a yell. Blue blood seeped under the door. Lapinette tugged the handle and it flew open. Wabsworth stood on the threshold holding an enormous carrot and grinning at something prone on the ground. He leaned down and whispered. "Busted."

5. The Wabbit and the Fight Stuff

The Wabbit and Wabsworth located Lapinette. She was sitting, dazed and confused, at the side of the road in a pool of blue blood. She shook blood from her knife. "Went that way," she said. She pointed vaguely. The Wabbit reached out to support her. Wabsworth did the same. She didn't appear to be injured, but something, somewhere, had been given a dusting. "She went shat sway over there," slurred Lapinette. She gestured and began to speak in an alien tongue. Wabsworth listened carefully then touched her, repeated the words and said, "Terminate." A bolt of electricity shot between his paw and Lapinette's shoulder. The Wabbit caught her as she slumped. "What did she say?" asked the Wabbit. Lapinette stirred into consciousness and spoke: "She tried to probe me. So I probed her first." "Who's she?" asked Wabsworth. "The creature, Lapinette," she answered. "You're Lapinette," said Wabsworth. Lapinette jolted. Another spark flashed, as something ethereal left her to coalesce with the pool of blue blood. The blood thinned and vanished, leaving only an oil stained sidewalk and a disappearing question mark. Lapinette blinked, grimaced and rubbed her forehead. "What happened?" The Wabbit grinned. "There was a fight." Lapinette groaned. "Who won?" "Looks like a draw," smiled the Wabbit.

4. The Wabbit and the Sudden Snatch.

A series of abductions were reported just where the railway line disappeared under Corso Francia. They responded quickly and scouted all around. It was a lonely spot, frequented by riff-raff and ne'er do wells - so they were on their guard. "There's something on the rails," shouted Lapinette. She peered over the fence. "It looks like a question mark." "Let's go down and have a look," said the Wabbit, waving an automatic from left to right. His gun was far from new. The safety catch had broken off a long time since, and the trigger was shiny and worn. "Steady there, Commander, that gat needs a reset," said Wabsworth. Lapinette turned to shout. "Wabbit, I think it moved into the ..." Her voice cut off suddenly. The Wabbit's head swiveled to look, but no-one was there. Lapinette had gone. They rushed to the top of the steps - but of Lapinette, there was no trace whatsoever, except for her automatic. The Wabbit picked it up, wheeled and fired three times at the rail tracks. Wabsworth's ears swayed slightly. "Commander?" "She'll hear it," shrugged the Wabbit. He poked around and kicked grass-eaten asphalt. "I'm looking for her knife," he explained. They stiffened as a bloodcurdling cry echoed from the street, followed by three more. "She still has it," smiled the Wabbit.
[gat: slang for gun. Originally derived from Gatling Gun but eventually applied to hand guns.]

3. The Wabbit and the Hanging Agent

Lapinette called urgently from the Department of Wabbit Affairs to summon the Wabbit to an incident. There, an Agent swung gently from a rope tied high on the roof, and he looked dead or close to it. "Better get him down," grimaced the Wabbit. He pulled mountaineering equipment from his fur and scaled the wall. Wabsworth took the service stairs and appeared from a skylight. "Easy now," shouted Lapinette, "All in one piece, please."  The Wabbit took a good look. "He has a note." Wabsworth swung across and grabbed it. The body swayed once more and suddenly crashed to the ground. Lapinette hopped out of the way with an angry cry. "Is he dead?" called the Wabbit. "Well he is now," scowled Lapinette. "It was the note that did it!" yelled the Wabbit. Lapinette glared. "What does the note say?" Her nose wrinkled as she gazed at the crumpled corpse. Wabsworth squinted at the scrawled message. "It says you're next." "Who's next?" asked the Wabbit. "The note writer failed to elucidate," replied Wabsworth. "Look there's a question mark, painted in blood," pointed Lapinette, "It's on a picture." Wabsworth conducted a speedy analysis. "It's not blood, it's colouring," "That's a priceless work of art," yelled Lapinette. Wabsworth moistened a paw, dabbed the question mark, and tasted it. "Food dye," he murmured.  "Too much dyeing round here," hissed the Wabbit.