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.

The Wabbit and Lapinette's New Year!

The Wabbit, Lapinette and the team wish ye a Guid New Year! Joy, Happiness and No War. 

"A guid new year to ane an a An mony may ye see, An during a the years to come, O happy may ye be. An may ye ne'er hae cause to mourn, To sigh or shed a tear; To ane an a baith great an sma A hearty guid New year. 

A guid new year to ane an a An mony may ye see, An during a the years to come, O happy may ye be.

Noo let us hope our years may be As guid as they hae been, And trust we ne'er again may see, The sorrows we hae seen. And let us wish that ane an a Our friends baith far an near, May aye enjoy in times to come - 

A hearty guid New year"

1. The Wabbit and Witches of Benevento

The Wabbit padded along the streets of Benevento. He was on the hunt for witches but could find no trace other than a souvenir shop selling liquor. This was disappointing, because he was planning to recruit a few witches for a Hallowe'en parade in Dumfries. He shrugged his shoulders and cast around for something else. That was when he noticed a mirror-like statue that appeared to serve no useful purpose other than to be there. He wasn't a great fan of street installations. He looked around again. It didn't appear to reflect anything he could see. "Maybe that's the point," he sulked. The Wabbit was being disingenuous. He knew perfectly well that this was the work of Helidon Xhixha, an Albanian artist of increasing repute. On the other paw, he was critical. "What's the point of a mirror if it doesn't reflect what's in front of it?" He continued his hop. There were other installations, more fluid and phantasmagorical than the rest. It was then he had one of his radical ideas. "What if," he mused, "people became trapped in mirror installations and became part of the urban landscape?" He thought he would run the idea past Lapinette, although he knew what she might say. "Wabbit, this sounds like one of your bright ideas that run amuck." He asked himself what could possibly go wrong? He decided to return to the souvenir witch shop to sample one of its delicious and dangerous alcoholic concoctions - and have a think ...

The Wabbit, Lapinette & the Zampognari

The Wabbit could hear the sound of pipes. Not quite the same as Highland Bagpipes, but not far off. Lapinette was thrilled. "It's Zampognari! There they are!" Her feet began to tap out a rhythm. She flung her paws in the air. Soon she was whirling around. The Wabbit smiled. He reached out a paw and grabbed her. Before long they were both dancing on the cobbled streets. Up and down they went as the Zampognari looked on, smiling. At least the one who wasn't playing smiled. The other was much too busy filling his bag with breath. The Wabbit threw Lapinette in the air, caught her and whirled her around. People gathered from near and far to watch. "Joy and Love!" yelled Lapinette. "Love and Joy!" shouted the Wabbit. Contributions to charity arrived thick and fast. They exchanged places and danced like dervishes. "What do we want?" shouted Lapinette. She pirouetted. "An end to war and stupidity and ignorance," yelled the Wabbit. They nearly flew; their dancing was so lively. Finally, they came to a halt. "I'd like to wish all our readers the best of Christmas wishes," said the Wabbit. "I'll second that." Lapinette was quite out of breath but managed to make a statement. "We have to empower freedom for all!" The Wabbit nodded. "Challenge injustice wherever it is and reform the world. Our preferential option, like that of God, is for the marginalised, the refugees and the poor wherever they are." They bowed. Then to much cheering, they passed round vino cotto. 

The Wabbit's famous Adventure Caffè

Dealing with the devil demanded a different kind of Adventure Caffè. They chose the sun, a beach and a table loaded with wine. The tattered canopy fluttered in a light breeze. It was the end of the season. It was quiet. "OK," said the Wabbit. "What was that for a sort of adventure Skratch?" Skratch meaowed with passion. "I liked the iteration of the devil as modern. It was a challenge to realism, locating the ordinary world of plausible social interaction within a wider more primitive universe of magic, sorcery and supernatural forces." Lapinette grinned. "That's Brottman on Polanski." The Wabbit frowned. "How on earth do you remember these things, Lapinette?" Lapinette pouted. "I read and recall." Wabsworth jumped in. "But we kept the trappings of tail and ears. That was the medieval Catholic Satanic rubric, reinforcing  the manifesting sins of patriarchy." Silence fell. A wind sprang up. "Shall we take that wine and go inside," said Lapinette. "I propose a toast first," said Wabsworth and he raised a glass high. "The Devil and the rest!" They all charged their glasses and followed suit. "The Deil tak the hindmost," yelled the Wabbit. Then they laughed and laughed and laughed. 

6. The Wabbit and the Devil's Best Tunes

They saw him coming from afar. His feet were massive and his paws fearsome, His suit remained sharp and he still wore that supercilious face that they found infuriating. He was humming a tune and it was then that the Wabbit had an idea. He plucked from his fur a set of old bagpipes he's got from his uncle the Chief of Galloway. Lapinette plucked out a tambourine she'd borrowed from the Corries (and never given back). The Wabbit started to play the Deil's awa' wae the Exciseman. The tambourine rattled out a beat. The Devil's eyes became glazed, but his head moved back and forward. His toes curled as he marched. He strode past the Wabbit and far into the sea. The Wabbit watched as he walked forward and gradually submerged under the waves. Finally the water claimed him. It closed over his head with hardly a ripple. The Wabbit let the pipe tune die. Lapinette's tambourine gave a last rattle. "Is he gone?" asked Lapinette. "He's never really gone," replied the Wabbit. "I rather liked his suit." Lapinette was pensive. "The Devil has the best of everything," responded the Wabbit. He tucked the bagpipes away and dusted his paws. "I don't think Davy's Jones Locker will hold him for long." He sighed. "What about a drink?" Lapinette pointed and smashed the tambourine against her leg. "I saw a caffe across there." "It looked closed," said the Wabbit, "but we could open it, leave the money." Then paw in paw, they made their way across the melancholy island. 

5. Tipsy and the Devil's Intention

The Devil changed - as he could. His foray into the city had to be accompanied by a certain amount of style. He looked through the bar door. It was a cold night, but not too cold. Music played. He tapped a tune on his thigh. A young woman tackled a Martini. "How old fashioned," he thought. "I might just have one." He ambled forward. His suit was in vogue without being flashy. He didn't conceal his tail. Round there, people wore all sorts. He was aware of a noise from behind him as Tipsy crept up. "The Devil I do declare!" She sprang and landed on his back. "Oh, desist young rabbit, I know who you are!" The Devil was suave. The Devil was charming. "Mind the threads! Join me in a Martini! Join me in an ickle dwink." Tipsy was tempted, but that was the Devil's intention. He tried to throw her off. Tipsy clung to his back like a magnet to steel. "Take me into the bar then, Mr Devil. Take me over the threshold." He strode in to face the bar. He ordered a Martini with all the trimmings. "How is our mutual friend the Wabbit?" Tipsy clung the tighter. "He sends his best wishes." "Yuk," said the Devil, "he is so full of kindness." Tipsy let go. The Devil felt her paws release their awful grip. "He's coming for you," murmured Tipsy. "He won't stop." The Devil drained his Martini. Then ate all the stuffed olives and smacked his lips. Addressed the barman. "Delightful. My compliments." He shimmered. And vanished.

4. The Wabbit and the Devil may Care

The courtyard was a respite from the gloom. And yet it was not. They were regarded by a sharp suited figure with a sardonic gaze. Standing beside one of his familiars he looked down on the Wabbit. "The  Wabbit," he stated in a clipped tone, A breeze ruffled his suit and his hair. "I am "The Devil," he added. "I am in charge of things." "What things?" announced Lapinette. She pointed. He stared. "Supermarkets, cars, food, airports, that sort of thing. And you." He pointed too. "A cultural icon if you will." He swung around? "You too, The Wabbit." He drawled 'the' until it became unsustainable. "What brings you here, The Wabbit? This place of tourists, snack bars, stained glass windows." "Oh, I came for you, oh pompous one," grinned the Wabbit. The devil affected a sideways look. "People love pompous." He wrinkled his nose. "Am I as you seek?" "I expected a disguise," grunted the Wabbit. "Are you impressed," said the Devil, "I paid for a good one." "You paid?" breathed Lapinette. "The best that crypto currency can buy," smirked the Devil, "although I'm in charge of that too. I mined it myself." He waved a paw. "I'll be seeing you." He turned to go. "Not if we see you first," said the Wabbit. Lapinette nodded. "We'll bring a long spoon. too." The Devil waved. "You can taste my distinct flavour." He smiled once more. "Good luck my prosecco drinking friends." He vanished, leaving only bare cobbles. The Wabbit tried to stop him. But he had changed to nothing in the breeze.

3. The Wabbit and the New Satanists

Raven flapped his wings and made a loud groak from the back of his throat. They were in an underground cavern, misty and mysterious. "Here is the enemy." The Wabbit blinked. "They seem familiar." Lapinette drew an arm across her throat, "Shhhh!". The Satanists marched from a tunnel and talked amongst themselves. "There's someone else here," said the leader. "Nah," said another. "Our familiars took care of everything," They proceeded. "We shall slaughter all Franciscans, they're too nice." "Sickly - icky," said another. "So where's the virgin's blood?" growled the Satanist in charge of the upside down cross. "Vampires got there first, You'll have to make do with fun girls' blood." "I prefer it!" came a voice from the back. "Some Satanist you!" growled the leader. "I was a Satanist when you were still in short pants." "I never wore them." "We could see your shit." "Saggy old sack!" "You weren't even half-assed." "Poo bum smell." Raven whispered confidentially to Lapinette. "Take little notice, if their brains were dynamite, they wouldn't even be able to blow their noses. Do you have the explosives? Before the Big Devil comes." Lapinette fished under her frock. "He's usually in disguise." The Wabbit searched in his fur. "There's a cat that's gone." A flick of the wrist. Dynamite blasted. The Satanists landed in a tangled heap at the other side of the cavern. "That stops 'em pulling our legs," said the Wabbit. "Yet, someone Spake of me," boomed a voice, "I come disguised as the glistening skin of an onion." "You smell," said Lapinette.

2. The Wabbit and the Devils of Assisi

The Wabbit turned and ran up the steps to meet Lapinette. But the sky darkened, the tower tipped right and ghostly creatures appeared in the sky and on rooftops. "I wasn't expecting this, Lapinette." Lapinette looked in all directions and shook her head. "Nor me." A Raven settled beside her. One that she knew. "Why the fancy get-up, Raven?" Raven shook all his feathers. His voice was a gurgling croak and he swooshed his wings. "I'm blending in." The devil with the numbers took a dive at the Wabbit. Lapinette lashed at it. "Don't worry," said Raven, "They're not really real." The Wabbit remonstrated. "Well, that one gave me a nasty nip." "I mean they're not actually evil," added the Raven, "They are Precursors, who carry the signifiers." The Wabbit chortled. "You sound like Skratch." Raven's role was to forecast. "Evil dost cometh and it shall take the form of The Agents of Satanism." The Wabbit slapped a paw to his forehead. "We've met." The Raven continued. "They shall be legion and what they lack in intelligence, they make up for with baseness. They are an overwhelming presence." Lapinette whispered. " They shall not prevail. We will cast them out." The Wabbit ground all of his 28 teeth. "It's us who do the casting around here!" The Raven whooshed his wings and quoted Ephesians. "There shall be no coarse joking or obscenity or foolish talk." Lapinette giggled softly. "That rather lets you out, Wabbit!" 

1. The Wabbit and Tipsy visit Assisi

The Wabbit and Tipsy were strolling down the hill from the Basilica of San Francesco when they ran into a group of nuns. The nuns became extremely excited. "Oh look, there's the Wabbit with one of his young friends." One nun was over-excited. "She looks the worse for wear. That must be Tipsy." They continued down the hill, "That's a put-up job," said another nun, "I heard she's totally teetotal." Tipsy overheard. "I am not! I'm looking for a bar." The nuns flocked together. "Were going there ourselves. Join us." Tipsy swayed in agreement. The Wabbit merely grinned "Tell me, Commander," asked the Mother Superior, "What was the theology of your latest adventure?" The Wabbit smiled once more. "You'll need to ask Skratch. He's in charge of analytical theology!" They hopped for a while. Tipsy felt mischievous. "If I started to run down the hill, how many tourists would follow?" She began to pick up pace. So did other tourists. Very soon, all the tourists followed her. In the quiet space that remained, the Wabbit turned to the Mother Superior. "What shall we do for our next adventure?" The Mother Superior nodded. "Ask your Department. It's supposed to know everything." The Wabbit murmured. "Isn't that your department?" The Mother Superior smiled in a superior way. "When you truly know God, you'll have the energy and boldness for another Adventure."

The late, late Hallow'een Show

The team gathered, somewhat tentatively, at the location the Wabbit had chosen. "This looks like the end of the world, Wabbit," said Lapinette. She jumped on a rock to look around. "Where better?" responded the Wabbit, He concentrated on lighting a fire. The fire steadfastly refused to light. "It's too late now," meaowed Skratch, "The Bunnyman will never find his way here." The Wabbit sniggered. "He will. I sent him a telegram with directions." Lapinette pirouetted. "I don't think you can send them anymore." Wabsworth knew everything, "You can," he said. "The International Telegram Company." The Wabbit grinned. "Yes and I got a reply." Everyone waited. "It says, 'Coming axe chop stop'." He kicked the fire. "He should be here by now." The fire flamed and thunder crackled. A voice spoke, deep and loud. "I am the Bunnyman. Don't kick my flaming fire!" The Wabbit looked upset. "You're not your usual self, Bunnyman. Where's your axe?" He could see brief glimpses of the Bunnyman in the flames. "I'm giving up on them," said the Bunnyman with a sigh. "There are only two things surer," shrugged the Wabbit, "Death and axes." The Bunnyman scowled. "You think your very funny, Wabbit." "Only on the night shift," quipped the Wabbit. "I'll be back and I'll have my axe to chop stop you!" yelled the Bunnyman. With a blood curdling howl, he vanished.