3. The Wabbit and the Belle Epoque

The neighbourhood wasn't great on eateries and the Wabbit returned to the hotel for a snack. To his surprise, Lapinette caught up with him there and she was wearing a Garibaldini hat. He knew it was Sebby and he gulped. He ushered Lapinette into a corner. "That's Sebby!" His voice was a hoarse whisper. Wherever Sebby went there was bound to be trouble. "I know," she said. "He's just .." And just at that moment, he flew off Lapinette's head and into the air. He moved so quickly he was just a blur and the Wabbit lost sight of him. The hotel was a product of the belle epoque and the paintings were of their time. They were representations of various luminaries of the period, and the Wabbit was a little in awe of them. Even more so when they began to move. Not only did they move but they began to talk among themselves. "Who are these ghastly people?" said one in an expensive high pitched voice, which the Wabbit felt was  high fallutin. "Oh, leave them alone, they might be fun," said another more mellow fellow. The lady high up on the wall was rather amenable. She threw her rose to Lapinette who smiled and caught it. Sebby twirled and danced and as he swirled around, the Wabbit felt a strange feeling, a bit like a shove and a bit like a pull. So did Lapinette. "Come," said the lady on the wall. "Come with me." The Wabbit caught sight of a calendar with the pages flying round and round. He recognised a sinking in his tummy - and it wasn't hunger ... 

2. Lapinette and the Garibaldi Hat

Just as the Wabbit left the Hotel, Lapinette was visiting a little-known museum way across town. It was a working museum and there were still offices and staff- so Lapinette was there by kind permission of a very nice man from the Ministry. She wandered through the building. Apart from the telephones, it remained exactly as it was in the nineteen twenties and thirties, with beautiful murals, statues and artefacts. A memorial to the soldiers of the Great War, it was designed by important artists of the time and bore the embellishments of Mussolini. Lapinette gasped at the attention to detail. At the bottom of a wide staircase, she came upon a large mural dedicated to the people. But she noticed a curious detail. A Garibaldini marched alongside the rest. "Psst!" Her ears flapped and she tuned in to the sound. "Psst, Lapinette. Over here." Lapinette was amazed. It was Sebby the Hat. She sighed. "Sebby, I thought you were going to behave yourself." Sebby floated down. I did a bit of exploring and then I got stuck in here." He whirled round. "Get me out of here." He settled on Lapinette's head. "Hey!" yelled Lapinette. "It's my exit strategy," said Sebby, "Besides you look most fetching." Lapinette made for the door. Sebby whistled a marching tune and span round a few times. A member of staff held the door for her. "That hat suits you," she remarked. Lapinette laughed politely. "I can pull a rabbit out of it!" 

1.The Wabbit and the Grand Hotel Palace

The Wabbit crossed the road with a silly smile on his face. He was recalling the time he won a thousand on the Lotto. He chortled to himself. But he was in a quandary. He was frightened to buy another in case he won nothing and started a run of bad luck. That amused him further. He glanced up to the nearby hotel. It was the Grand Hotel Palace and he wondered why it had given itself two names. He laughed again because he knew it had been the Ambassador Hotel and was a relic of the Belle Epoque. "So stylish they named it twice." He mused on. He had only been in there once with Lapinette for a jazz lunch, when the place had jumped to Louis Armstrong classics and Pimento Stuffed Celery. The Wabbit loved celery and he'd had too much to eat. He rubbed his tummy and made his way to the centre along Via Veneto. It was as pleasant a winter's day as you could experience in Rome. The Wabbit adjusted his anti-matter fur for the temperature and hopped happily to a jazz standard he was playing through his built-in earphones. He wondered what his next mission would be like. He began to design one in his head, but that seldom worked because the colour and shape was never right - far less the beginning and the end. He decided to consult Lapinette, but before he could do that, he spotted something very strange indeed ...

The Wabbit's Outdoor Adventure Caffè

The team gathered outside a shop in Piazza Campo de' Fiori. It was moderately busy, and they were in a good mood. Lapinette bounded towards the Wabbit. He put his paws up half to embrace her and half to defend himself. Skratch chatted amiably to Wabsworth about the delights of foreign food. Skratch enjoyed a bit of French brie. Wabsworth was fond of baked beans. The Wabbit's voice cut through the chatter. "Tell us Skratch. What was that for a sort of Adventure?" Skratch grinned and shrugged. "On this occasion I can't really say, Wabbit." Wabsworth chipped in. "People find themselves in spaces they don't belong." The Wabbit nodded. "Yes, mostly they came from a window. Maybe it was about the window itself." Lapinette was vociferous. "The window substitutes for the gaze. And the gaze leads to visual pleasure." Skratch nearly cackled. "But what about the sheep? They had no window or pedestal and appeared from nowhere." Lapinette thought for a second. "But they bleated and flocked around." Skratch meaowed. "It was an allegory. Cicero compared sheep with the hordes of plebeians." Wabsworth laughed. "Didn't do them any good though." The Wabbit snorted. "No. Because they elected a wolf to protect them." He took his turn to shrug - he had a poor opinion of populism. He indicated the shop. "Can we get a drink here?" "No," said Wabsworth, "Unless we buy a bottle and sit by the fountain." The Wabbit giggled. "That counts as an outdoor activity." Then they laughed and laughed and laughed.

6. The Wabbit and the Centre of Rome

The furious bleating died down. Cicero had gone. Sheep had gone. But the Wabbits were still there and they wandered cheerfully into Piazza Campo de' Fiori. The Wabbit inspected an old vehicle, parked by the restaurants. "Thinking of changing of transport to an Ape?" Lapinette was curious. She'd seen that look on the Wabbits face before. "Not really," mused the Wabbit. "I was thinking of a time when everything was smaller. "We were smaller too," laughed Lapinette. She jumped in the air. "We grew to what the frame demanded," responded the Wabbit, with a twinkle in his eye. "Needs must where the devil drives," added Lapinette. They relaxed and looked at the twinkling lights and listened to the echoing sounds of the Piazza. "So we stay in Rome for a while." Lapinette seemed positive. "It's very good fun." The Wabbit looked at the rear screen of the Ape three wheeler. "I'd say. It's rather vibrant and all - with the hustle bustle and the rufty tufty." Lapinette giggled. "Rufty tufty?" "That's what Romans like to think, anyway," said the Wabbit, "Fancy a spin round the piazza?" He looked around for the owner ad received a nod of consent." Before long they were driving slowly in and out of barrows and left over vegetables. That was a bit of a daft adventure," murmured Lapinette. "Like the old days," added the Wabbit. "When we were young and beautiful," smirked Lapinette. "Still are!" grinned the Wabbit.

5. The Wabbit and the Phantom Sheep

"What shall we do with these sheep, Cicero?" asked the Wabbit, "They're your sheep, you called them up." Cicero was astonished. He spoke sardonically. "So many different sheep. It will take more than a wolf to protect them." The Wabbit couldn't resist. "They'll get the government they deserve." Lapinette stroked one sheep and pointed to another. "That looks like a colourful sheep." The sheep bleated and milled around the square in all directions. "They need a leader, said Lapinette, "What about you Cicero?" Cicero swept his arm forward. "I'm no leader. I'm just advisory." He swept his arm backwards and the baa-ing stopped and the sheep were gone. "They were only a metaphor anyway." The Wabbit thought and thought. "Perhaps you were better outside the law courts, sweeping your arm and reading from your scroll - for all eternity." Cicero nodded. "For all the time that Rome endures?" "It's endured a while," commented Lapinette. "That's true," replied Cicero. "Now that's settled, I'll treat us all to a drink," laughed the Wabbit, "I see a hostelry over there. The Ape Bar." They wandered over, pulled out chairs and sat down. Cicero lifted his glass. "For the replenishment of our health!" "And not for our sorrow," said the Wabbit and Lapinette together. "He was a wise man who invented wine!" quoted the Wabbit. "That's Plato," said Cicero. "And it was beer," said Lapinette. "Just testing you," giggled the Wabbit.

4. The Wabbit and the Meaning of Death

With Cicero in tow, the Wabbit and Lapinette went to San Lorenzo in Damaso, an old church they knew. They didn't really know what to do with Cicero, but they had no intention of going back to Ostia Antica. That was far too dangerous. Just at the door, they paused by an elaborate gravestone. "Here lies Tomai Aretio!" exclaimed Lapinette. She had no idea who that was but had an encyclopaedic memory for catalogues. Cicero drew himself up into oratorial style, "You have your dead here?" He was astonished. "We always separate death from life. Tombs should be outside the city gates." The Wabbit knew all about funeral practices in ancient Rome, having competed a module at night school. "More recently, church benefactors could be buried within the walls." Cicero stepped back. "But dead bodies are polluting. Perhaps this deathly creature transported the dead to the Esquiline undertakers." Lapinette shook her head. "No, his body lies below." She indicated the flagstones on the floor of the church. "Do you believe in one God, Cicero." Cicero laughed. "By Jove, that depends on who's listening!" The Wabbit struck a pose. "Arm'd with the terrors of Almighty Jove. Lov'st thou to walk, the peaceful solemn grove." Cicero struck a pose too. "Sounds OK to me. Better than debating that sheep, Mark Antony." Lapinette made funny ears and yelled baa. So did the Wabbit. Then Cicero. The sound of sheep echoed from the church door and bleated its way into the piazza.

3. The Wabbit & Lapinette meet Big Cicero

The Wabbit was walking by the Tiber where he spotted Lapinette. He hailed her with a merry cry. She rushed towards him with puckered lips. They hugged. "Let me tell you about something strange that's been happening to me," said the Wabbit. Lapinette laughed. "Something strange is always happening to you." The Wabbit shared her amusement. But just as he was about to explain, a voice hailed him. "Commander, Commander!" The Wabbit ignored it. Lapinette looked around. She saw nothing and shook her head. "Pay no attention, it's in your head." They gazed at the Tiber. "I've swam the Tiber and the Po." murmured the Wabbit." Lapinette pouted. "So damned exciting, is that so?" They both giggled. "Commander, Commander! Remember me?" It was that voice again. This time they both turned. "Over there," said Lapinette. "It's Big Cicero!" shouted the Wabbit. "Long time, no see," said Cicero. "Join me in a dish of garum? I know a little place round the corner." Lapinette waved but turned up her nose. "I hate garum." It was under her breath, but Cicero heard her. "Don't worry Lapinette, there's lots of fishy Roman cuisine here." It was more than a decade since they'd met Cicero in Ancient Rome. The Wabbit touched Lapinette. "He must have found a way back, through the fabric of time." He dropped his voice to a whisper. "Talking of fabric, he needs a new toga." Lapinette knew what was coming. "XL?" she asked. "No, just the one!" chortled the Wabbit.

2. The Wabbit and Betty's Advice

The Wabbit never gave the tobacconist a second thought. But later that year he was prowling through the back streets of Turin when he heard a voice. "How are your adventures, Wabbit?" He turned, then smiled. Betty Boop looked at him, backlit and beautiful. She winked. "Wabbit, your adventures are famous worldwide." The Wabbit was in front of a cinema which Skratch insisted showed experimental films. But the Wabbit knew it was an adult film theatre. "My adventures are just fine and dandy Betty," he said, "Always full of excitement." Betty winked once more. "Satire too." The Wabbit blushed, shrugged and asked the critical question. "Why are you in front of a place like this?" Betty stuck a leg in the air and simpered. "I'm public domain now. But I like to watch the street." They gazed at each other. The Wabbit chirped. "I'm trademarked, you know." "Does it hurt? smiled Betty. "Only when I laugh," gasped the Wabbit. "You were in a few adventures, Betty. Any story advice?" Betty's lights flickered. "I like the ones that have no narrative point." The Wabbit blinked. "None of them do." Betty winked the slowest wink that ever was winked. "Maybe that's the point, Wabbit." The Wabbit thought of Minnie the Moocher.  His head swam. "I'll keep an eye open for you, Commander," said Betty. The back light flickered. The cinema plunged into darkness. The Wabbit heard singing as he hopped along the street. "He's got eyes of blue and that's my weakness now."

1. The Wabbit and the Damp Sunday

The day was damp. Wet leaves lay on the street. The Wabbit hopped aimlessly along Via Gregorio VII. It wasn't so cold, but the weather lay on his shoulders like a soggy towel. The Wabbit didn't like days like this. His fur was humid, which put him in a bad a bad mood. He was passing a tobacconist when a voice spoke to him. "What?" grunted the Wabbit. He didn't want to be rude, but he was quietly minding his own business. "How are your adventures?" Now the Wabbit paid attention. "Who are you?" He stared for a while at the closed shutter. "I am the smoking shutter as befits a tobacconist." The Wabbit looked displeased. "Smoking is bad for you!" The shutter smiled. "I'm what you might call a campesino." His shoulders seemed to shrug. "Besides, lots of things are bad for you." The Wabbit was in no mood for idle chitter-chatter and he breathed a sigh. "Please come to the point." The campesino took the cigarette from his mouth. "Come back and see me when I'm open and I'll advise you of an adventure you might have. I'll sell you a lotto ticket too." The Wabbit brightened. In the summer, he'd bought a lotto ticket on a whim and won a hundred euro. Then he'd bought another and won a thousand. He shrugged. "When I come back, the shop will be open - but you'll be closed." The campesino roared with laughter. "Just listen. Put your paw on the lotto ticket you want. If it's a winner I'll rattle in the wind." The Wabbit grunted and hopped on down the road. "Joke, rattle and roll," he murmured. 

The Wabbit at his Adventure Caffè

The team gathered at a Caffè they knew. But when they arrived it looked different. It was under new management, so they hesitated. "Looks safe," said Wabsworth. The Wabbit nodded. It was near various embassies and was likely secure enough. He nodded to an officer from the Carabinieri and received one in return. Skratch rolled up behind them. "What's everyone waiting for? Let's order." Lapinette simpered. "We were waiting on you, Skratch. Tell us what kind of adventure we just had." Skratch miaowed. "Your Lapinette was a real double, otherwise you wouldn't be wearing a version of your dress. Most fetching by the way." Lapinette curtsied. The Wabbit frowned. "In that case, the other Lapinette is not a dark and unacceptable part of your ego." "Much too Gothic," chortled Wabsworth. They all laughed. "At a sub- atomic level, atoms and molecules might know their own properties," commented Skratch. "So the other Lapinette knew who she was?" Lapinette was intrigued. "Now that's Gothic," said Wabsworth. Skratch let out a blood curdling growl that astonished passers-by. "The realm of the subatomic may be governed by principles that are not unlike semiotic ones." The Wabbit leaned forward. "The other Lapinette did have quantum coherence. Momentarily frozen and unfrozen in knowing and unknowing." Wabsworth was intrigued. "So where is she now, without her frock." I think she seized the possibility of another frock," purred Skratch. Lapinette's eyes widened to an impossible size. "We shouldn't really give a frock," said the Wabbit, "I'm ordering drinks!" 

6. The Wabbit and the Realm of Possibility

Lapinette bounded along the car park ramp at enormous speed. "Leave my Wabbit alone," she yelled. The figure turned. Lapinette faced what seemed to be herself. She lifted her snazer and took aim. Quiet fell and the car park lights flared. Silence froze them both. The Wabbit broke it with a shout. "Don't shoot. She's one of your possibilities." The figure's paws flailed. Her mouth opened. She seemed to say something, but the words were indistinct. "Give me back my frock," screamed Lapinette. She waved her weapon. The Wabbit caught them up and stood in front of the figure "She's you from an old adventure." Lapinette was furious. "She's an imposter and I want my frock back." The Wabbit shook his head. "You'll rupture the space time continuum." Lapinette finally let the snazer drop, but she kept her paw on the trigger. "Explain!" The Wabbit gave a lengthy talk on relativity. He knew Lapinette would be aware of it, but he had to calm her down. The car park echoed to her voice. "She could be dangerous. What about loop quantum gravity?" The Wabbit shrugged. "Probably. Remember you jumped on that underground train?" Lapinette nodded. "Spinfoam formed multidimensions in the tunnel and there were many possible Lapinettes. This one must have generated a topography of its own and remained behind." The alternative Lapinette's mouth moved. This time the Wabbit heard her speak - like the tinkling of tiny bells. "None of this is proven. I'm moving outside the realm of possibilities." She gave a wave and began to fade. Soon there was nothing, except for a tartan kilt that lay on the shiny tarmac. Lapinette picked it up and examined it. "That's possibly mine to keep."

5. The Wabbit and Lapinette's Possibilities

The Wabbit retraced his hops to the car park. It was where he'd first seen Lapinette and he thought he'd pick it up from there. He stomped along in the manner of a detective he'd seen on television. Then he saw her. She was gliding though the car park on electric air. But she was different. Her face shimmered in the harsh glare of the lights. Her frock hung lazily. Not to mention her position - as if she were about to jump onto a moving train. It was then that he realised he seen this before. It was on the Ghost Inspectre subway. A daring Lapinette had dived on the train and he remembered for a second she was transfixed, pixelated by the carriages as they shuttled along. Then it passed. What had she said at the time? A possibility dimension? He tucked his paws in his fur and followed. If she was a ghostly spectre from the past - and it was a possibility - he'd better act like a spectre and haunt. He flattened against the wall and moved stealthily. His ears pricked up. She was humming a tune. "Ghostly, ghastly, ghostly, ghastly. Don't touch the walls, the walls, the walls." The Wabbit stepped away with speed. But not before he felt the clammy gasp of possibility on his shoulders. "I can't possibly put up with this," he gasped. He shrugged off possibilities and kept on the trail. He decided to chance it. "Lapinette!" His voice scraped down the walls. Possibilities squealed. The figure turned, waved at the Wabbit, mouthed "impossible" - and vanished.

4. The Three Fates at the Whisky Bar

Wabsworth was master of the keys and he tinkled the ivories as Tipsy, Mitzy and Fitzy swayed to the rhythm of Brecht. "There's no whisky in this bar," yelled Tipsy. Mitzy moved from left to right. "Wabsworth has whisky and he doesn't even like it." They swayed in unison like the Ronettes. "He has an algorithm for Scotch," they sang. Wabsworth hit a discordant note. "There's no Lapinette in this bar! She can't be far; she can't be far." They changed positions. Tipsy stepped to the front. "No-one knows anything about this adventure. So pass me. The whisky. I must have it, it inspires, you know why." "Pass it. Pass it. We know why," echoed Fitzy and Mitzy. Wabsworth his paws flying across the keys, shifted chords and played Alabama song like the Doors. "Where is the Wabbit?" slurred Tipsy. "At the next whisky bar," said Fitzy. "It's not far," said Mitzy. "It's round the corner from the Spar," chanted Tipsy. Fitzy crossed her legs at an impossible angle. The scent of whisky hung in the air. Wabsworth paws flew and suddenly he sang. "Show me the way to the next lovely girl." Mitzy's eyes flashed. "Your good old Mama. That's me!" She lurched sideways into Tipsy's paws and was propelled across the dance floor. "And now we say goodbye!" Tipsy, Fitzy and Mitzy swayed through the nearest exit. Wabsworth grinned and stood. He swept his fur back, closed the lid of the piano, turned to an imaginary audience and said, "If you enjoyed that, tell my agent." Ghostly applause filled the room. Then to the accompaniment of ethereal cheering, he hopped through the same exit.

3. Lapinette and her Personal Guard

Lapinette gathered her personal guard and headed out to help the Wabbit. They crowded beside her as they'd been instructed to keep away from the side windows. "Keep your weapons inside the truck," yelled Lapinette, "We're in the centre of Rome, don't get mixed up with any tourists." They resembled a mass of darting eyes, looking for prey. The truck hurtled from the doorway of the building they had on loan for a few months until they were ready to make a permanent transfer. When Lapinette drove, the truck seemed to fly. The wheels hardly touched the ground as they coasted the streets near the castle. Fast as a magnet, they scorched a route across the tarmac and the short distance to the market where the Wabbit was last seen. "What the fried fish happened here?" gasped Fitzy. "Flirk, flack, fluck a tluck," lisped Mitzy. It was the closest to swearing as Lapinette's personal guard ever got. All except for Tipsy. "Mosquitos buggered shitweasel!" Lapinette was turning red as she threw on the brakes. "Split up, you strump muppets. Find the Wabbit!" They all leapt out. Brandishing weapons high in the air, they vanished. "Strewth. That felt like herding cats," said Lapinette. She grabbed her automatic, dropped down from the truck and headed into the market. 

2. The Wabbit at San Silverio Market

His radio calls were futile and the Wabbit searched all night. Evening turned to morning and still there was no sign of Lapinette. The walkie talkie maintained an obstinate silence. He circled round. He walked the length and breadth of San Silvario Market and went all the places where Lapinette might go, but still no luck. He was about return to HQ when the radio burst into life. "Commander?" asked Wabsworth, "Where have you been? We've been trying to get you." The Wabbit growled into the mouthpiece. "I've been here all the time. Via Gregorio VII." The radio crackled. "We swept by there and there was no sign of you. But I have Lapinette here," said Wabsworth. "She's been looking for you." Lapinette breathed into the radio. "Where are you now, Wabbit?" The Wabbit was getting annoyed. "San Silvario market, where we were the day before yesterday." Everyone sounded puzzled. "Sounds like you're in a time shift sort of thing," suggested Lapinette. "It's certainly some sort of thing," replied the Wabbit. "Were you in the supermarket yesterday evening?" Lapinette sounded miffed. "No. I was here until late, working on your Dinosaur Fund accounts." The Wabbit was astonished. "Well, your double was over here, laden down with Christmas shopping." "The devil's in the retails," laughed Lapinette. "I hope she got something nice." The Wabbit had to smile. "Put the team together, Lapinette. Is your personal guard available?" The Wabbit heard gunfire at the other end. "They're troubleshooting," said Lapinette. 

1. The Wabbit and the City

On his way to the supermarket, the Wabbit scurried across Via Gregorio VII. This he accomplished at great speed, thinking it was the most dangerous thing he did. Even facing the Agents of Rabit armed with the latest weaponry couldn't inspire the tension he felt. He dodged SUVs, vans, mopeds. bicycles and e-scooters and thought if he stayed still long enough, someone would probably park on his head. He hopped out of the way as a vehicle backed up, and felt under his fur for his automatic. But it was just an elderly lady with a too-big vehicle. He reached the ramp for the supermarket and was halfway down before he realised it wasn't the pedestrian entrance. He forged on and made his way through the parking area. Up ahead he spotted a familiar figure, laden down with Christmas shopping. It was Lapinette. "Lapinette, let me give you a helping paw!" His shouts were drowned by noise and bustle from above. He quickened his pace, to no avail. He took a short cut, but lost sight of her. "Where the binky did she go?" Another SUV moved across his path, blocking his vision. He thought he saw her again, but it was someone else entirely. He turned a corner. Lapinette was gone. He took out his radio but the signal was weak. He retraced his steps, glancing from right to left. When he was at street level he put in an urgent call ... 

The Wabbit goes to his Adventure Caffè

The team walked through the market in search of a snack bar, because the Wabbit insisted it was there. He jumped on a bench and executed a perfect a Highland Fling. Lapinette thought he looked precarious and held out her paws for safety. Wabsworth laughed and imitated the Wabbit as only an android could.  Skratch prowled at the back, gesticulating as usual. "What was that for a sort of adventure?" His tail flicked in anticipation. Visitors to the market disregarded these strange activities. Wabsworth took in the sights and smells, trimming his algorithms appropriately. The Wabbit jumped down, much to Lapinette's relief. Skratch meaowed mightily and caught up. "What was that for a sort of adventure you just had?" Wabsworth held up his paws and did a jig. "What lies in the semiosphere for us, Skratch?" Skratch purred. "Anything set in a cave deals with the unconscious." The Wabbit stopped clowning. "Caves and tunnels illustrate the lived experience of the psyche and the transpersonal." Wabsworth knew the Wabbit was trained in Zurich. "Ha! It puts the depth in depth psychology." Lapinette identified the book at once. "That's The Illustrated Dark by Christopher Lee." Skratch's nose twitched. "The actor or the author?" Wabsworth fell about laughing. His database was big enough to reveal the answer. Lapinette addressed the Wabbit. "Since leaving the cavern brings us to enlightenment, are you enlightened enough to find this Caffè?" The Wabbit jumped on the bench again. He pointed, shading his eyes in the manner of an explorer. "Over there."

[Thanks to: The Illustrated Dark: Cinema Soul and Shadows. Christopher Lee Miller]

10. The Wabbit and the Aftermath

They were just coming back through one of the tunnels they'd found. They left the Agents confused. Wabsworth had administered a serum he'd been developing in the Wabbit's shed. He assured the Wabbit they wouldn't remember a thing - not their organisation, not why they were there, nothing. It would take an army of shrinks to get them back to normal. As they rounded a corner, Lapinette noticed the Wabbit's double agent, Major Spitlove, standing in a corner. He wasn't pleased. "Do you know how long it took me to train these Agents?" Wabsworth laughed. "As long as it will take you to put them back together." Spitlove stamped a foot and howled in protest. "It's no good moaning, Major," said the Wabbit, "That's how it works in the trade." Lapinette smiled. "It's a good thing your space-time machine only worked as long as it did, Wabsworth. It probably turns their brains to scrambeloni." Spitlove looked puzzled. "What's scrambeloni?" The Wabbit grinned. "What I ask for in fancy restaurants to wind up the waiters." Major Spitlove was sick and tired of being the Wabbit's double agent - and he said so. Lapinette nodded. She knew the Wabbit was hard work. But Wabsworth chimed in. "Oh, he's quite good fun!" Lapinette snorted, waved her paws and mouthed, "quack quack quack." Spitlove looked at Wabsworth for explanation. Wabsworth shrugged. "Lapinette is saying the Wabbit quacks us up."

9. The Wabbit and Trouble in the Tunnel

Several rough Agents herded them into a tunnel. They were small of stature, but unlike other Agents, they seemed to have a modicum of intelligence. And they were none too gentle. The Wabbit saw blood on the tunnel floor. Wabsworth gave him the nod. "Fake," he whispered. The Agents had their weapons and for the first time in ages, the Wabbit wasn't quite sure what to do. But Wabsworth had more than a clue. "Lie doggo," he whispered. "I have a plan." The Agent gave Wabsworth a vicious kick. Wabsworth let out a fake cry. But Wabsworth had something up his sleeve. The electric shock machine was all but forgotten but Wabsworth remembered its effect when he'd connected it through his positronic memory. He touched an Agents foot. The Agent gasped then fell. The others gathered round and tied to drag him to his feet. They got a shock when they did and soon, they all lay prone. Lapinette and Wabsworth got to their feet. Lapinette tried not to slip in the fake blood. "Mind the fake blood," shouted Wabsworth. But it was too late. The Wabbit fell in it. Wabsworth grinned. "How ethical was that shock?" The Wabbit shook his head. "I think the spark between us has gone." Lapinette snorted. "The Wabbit thinks he's very funny. What are we going to do with these fellows?" "More of the same?" suggested the Wabbit. Wabsworth giggled. "They'll be ecstatic." Lapinette grinned. "Shocks ain't what they used to be."

8. The Wabbit and the Agents in Disguise

Wabsworth hopped out into the dimly lit cavern. He looked ill at ease - or that's the way it seemed to the Agents of Rabit, The Agents were dressed as the Wabbit's personal guard and they'd made a fist of it. But they couldn't replicate the drunken charm of the originals. Wabsworth stuck his paws in the air and made as if he was shivering wreck. "Please don't hurt me," he whimpered, "I'm only an android." That was the signal. While the lead Agent was distracted, the Wabbit fished out a cache of C4 he always carried in his fur and launched it over the heads of the Agents. The lead Agent dropped his pistol and tried to catch the explosive, but it landed behind them. It sent a shock wave designed to stun and the Agents fell senseless to the ground, all except for the chief. He hopped back a little, then a little more. The Wabbit stepped out. "Where are the rest?" The Agent froze. Wabsworth picked up his automatic and shoved it in his coat. "Tell us now or we'll squeeze it out of you." Lapinette emerged and played Ms Nice Wabbit. "Leave him alone, Wabsworth, I'm certain if we give him biscuits, he'll tell us all he knows." The Agents nearly smiled. "The rest are a level below. Can I have my biscuits now?" Lapinette grimaced. "I lied." But the Wabbit dug in his fur and produced a biscuit, which was rather the worse for wear. " How many?" The Agent munched the biscuit. Crumbs scattered on the floor. A door opened and several armed Agents stepped into the cavern. "Paws up!" They marched forward. "Quite a few," smiled the Agent.

7. The Wabbit and the Mouth of Darkness

The machine brought them to the mouth of Orca and its strange inscription. "Ogni Pensiero Vola." The Wabbit snorted. "All thoughts fly." He shook his head like a donkey. "All good thoughts are conceived when hopping. In you go, Wabsworth." Wabsworth half laughed. "It's always the android that gets these jobs." But he hopped in. He paused to look back and gave a thumbs up, then he was swallowed by darkness. The Wabbit shrugged. "I think I've seen this in the movies." They readied their weapons and listened. They heard twigs breaking, but they both knew they weren't twigs. They waited what seemed like an age until Wabsworth suddenly reappeared. He shrugged. "I was set upon by two thugs. I took care of them." Lapinette shuddered. "What's it like?" asked the Wabbit. "Dark," said Wabsworth, "but you get used to it." He gestured for them to enter and they made their way into the darkness. The walls were dark, damp and somewhat sticky. Matter trickled from the roof like molasses. There was a deep penetrating smell, like a fertiliser factory in a heatwave. They moved deeper into the mouth. Lapinette waved her gun at the darkness. She had the best sight and the most sensitive hearing. "Down these steps, and to the right. I can hear them snickering." She led the way down the stairs. They came upon a dank cavern. Their whispers echoed in the gloom. The Wabbit grinned. "Some idiot's repeating what we say ... "

6. The Wabbit and Proteus of the Park

Still clutching his machine, the Wabbit reached Monster Park. He stood with Lapinette in a small dais, looking at a statue of Proteus. He was nonplussed. He thought he would arrive at Orco's mouth. Lapinette gazed at Proteus. "Haven't I seen you before?" said the Wabbit. "I doubt it," said Proteus. "I am becalmed here in this ghastly place." The Wabbit looked around. "It doesn't look so bad." Proteus looked pained. "All day, every day I suffer the gaping tourists." "I know what you mean!" responded the Wabbit. "Don't get him started," groaned Lapinette. She slapped her forehead with a paw. But Proteus couldn't be stopped. "I'm entrapped here in this ghastly statue. But I least I have my fish." The fish statue moved forward at speed, surprising Wabsworth who'd been gently stroking its head. "What say you, mechanical rabbit?" boomed Proteus. "I know all things, past present and future," said Wabsworth." "So do I," said Proteus, "we must chat." The Wabbit tilted his head. "Then have you seen any strange rabbits. Awkward of gait and of repellent aspect." Proteus laughed. "They make a snickering sound unpleasant to the ear?" The Wabbit nodded. "They passed this way only yesterday," said Proteus. "They were trying to change their form but all were as shallow as pans." The Wabbit and Lapinette exchanged glances. They waved, then the Wabbit pressed the red button ... 

5. The Wabbit and Spitlove's Surprise

It was a balmy day. The grass waved in a gentle breeze. The Wabbit sniffed the air. "Spring." They looked at the structure. "A place of power," murmured Lapinette. "It's been here rather a long time. Many springs have passed." Wabsworth nodded as if they should know. They looked into the distance and observed an Agent coming down the hill towards them. "He shouldn't be able to see us!" The Wabbit wasn't happy. The Agent kept coming and then when he was a few metres away, he stopped. "Hello Commander." The Wabbit finally got it. It was Major Spitlove, his double agent. "Spitlove, I was not informed of your location. What happened to your eyes." Spitlove blinked. "Contact lenses. Don't worry, my fellow agents can't see you. With these, I can though." Lapinette got annoyed. "What's going on, Spitlove?" Spitlove considered. He didn't like to give anything away. "You probably got a message about Monster Park." They all nodded in agreement. "The Agents are planning an incursion dressed as the 400 Rabbits." The 400 constituted the Wabbit's personal guard. "They're practicing now," said Spitlove, "They're not terribly good, but they could cause an incident." They heard shouting. "They're active," said Spitlove. "Better be on your way. See you in the summer." The Wabbit nodded and checked with Lapinette. "Still got the chestnuts?" She nodded. The Wabbit grinned and pressed the red button. 

4. The Wabbit and the Winter Zone

The Wabbit grabbed the box from Wabsworth. Lapinette winced, because it had a red button, and she knew that Wabbit would press it. His paw hovered. Then he did exactly that. The scene changed. It was cold. Sunny, but icy cold. They shivered. All except for Wabsworth, but he shivered to keep them company. Winter light pierced every corner. Stones looked down with an indifferent gaze born of four thousand years of staring. Tramp tramp tramp. A marching sound caught their attention. Three Agents of Rabit advanced. A scout team. But they hopped right through them. Shivers turned to shudders. "Don't worry. They can't see you," said Wabsworth. "They know something is afoot but there's nothing visible." The Wabbit kicked a rock and it trickled along the path. The Agents looked round, but saw nothing. The Wabbit suppressed a  snigger. His twenty-eight teeth snickered. "Wabsworth, how long does this effect last?" asked Lapinette. Wabsworth shrugged. "I never had time to test it - but as long as we keep believing in it, it should hold for a few hours." Then Lapinette recalled the chestnuts. She didn't know why, but the Wabbit had suggested they pick them up and she knew she had one under her frock. She rummaged. But just as she found it the Wabbit decided to press the red button. "No!" she yelled. But the scene was already changing.  

3. The Wabbit in an Alternative Space

It wasn't quite a wrench. Neither was it a pull. But two paws moved both Lapinette and the Wabbit to a different space. They both blinked. There was a smiling Wabsworth holding a strange box. But the scene had changed. They were outside. Everything was brown like it was autumn. Icy fronds hung from trees. Boulders were covered in moss. "Like it?" queried Wabsworth. They looked around. "Where are we?" asked Lapinette. "What's that box?" asked the Wabbit. "This is the inside of the outside, or the outside of the inside. It makes no difference. It's a quantum thing," grinned Wabsworth. "I had to remove you from danger, everything is the same as it was. "Very pretty," scowled Lapinette, "But we were creeping up on the Agents of Rabit. "You were going round in circles," said Wabsworth, "These are an elite squad of Agents, well versed in time travel." Lapinette gasped. "They come from the future?" Wabsworth grinned. "Not exactly." Water dripped behind the Wabbit and joined a small stream which seemed to flow upwards. "This is an alternative space I created," said Wabsworth. "The other universe which you left is contained in this box." The Wabbit laughed. "Don't let it out, it was awful." "I can't keep it here for long," said Wabsworth, "It gives us a breathing space. I only have this, then winter, spring and summer. After that it expires." The Wabbit marched up and down, thinking. "It's autumn. Are there chestnut trees?" Wabsworth nodded and fiddled with his box. The Wabbit looked on the ground. With a lopsided grin, he said, "Divide and conker?"

2. The Wabbit and the Enchanted Caveway

Lapinette and the Wabbit travelled to Monster Park. They were there before anyone else but decided to start anyway. "I don't remember this passageway," groaned the Wabbit. "We're supposed to be sneaking up on them!" Lapinette was tetchy and so was the Wabbit. The cave was damp and cold, despite being pretty. Water dripped down the walls. Leaves lay on the ground. Colours were vaguely psychedelic. The Wabbit swept the area with his snazer. "Are you sure this is the right place?" Lapinette wrinkled her nose. "I can smell them." The acrid odour of the Agents of Rabbit assailed Lapinette's sensitive nostrils. The Wabbit could smell them too. His nose twitched in protest. "Quiet!" Lapinette heard something. They flattened against the wall but kept going. Lapinette was philosophical. "They could be anywhere in this maze. Smells travel this way and that." The Wabbit whispered. "I recall there were Agents here before. Not the best troops in the world but they were here." They travelled down the cavern. "Wabsworth should be here soon," said Lapinette. "He has our coordinates and a built-in automated direction finder." The Wabbit nodded, then shivered in the cool air. Something dropped in an adjacent cave. They froze. A shadow fell across the cave. A figure stepped in front of them ...

1. The Wabbit and the Historical Question

The Wabbit was perusing a painting in the Museo del Risorgimento. He laughed to himself. "Risorgimentos always involve people kicking seven bells out of each other!" All the same it was extremely exciting and he kept a straight face. But what the Wabbit liked about this room was the light. It struck the wall at a very particular angle and made all the paintings sit up. "Wabbit, Wabbit!" His reverie had been disturbed. Lapinette came piling into the room with sparkling eyes and a flushed face. "Phew I'm glad you're here, Wabbit. You're needed back at the Department." The Wabbit gaped. "Didn't I fill in my travel claim properly?" Lapinette pirouetted across the room. "Nothing like that. It's the Agents of Rabit. There's been an incursion just north of Rome." The Wabbit waited to hear more. "What kind of incursion?" Lapinette stamped her foot and then the other one. "An incursive incursion! They all came swarming out of that folly that you like." "The Mouth at Monster Park?" suggested the Wabbit. "That's the one," said Lapinette, "Agents pretended to be monsters and no one noticed for a while. Tourists thought it was a Monster Park experience. Until they got kidnapped." The Wabbit considered the matter carefully. "They toy with daemons." The Wabbit didn't like tourists and felt they got what they deserved. He heaved a sigh. "Better get down there. Assemble a team. Evacuate remaining tourists." Lapinette wheeled to go. "Where shall we send them?" The Wabbit shrugged. "Somewhere they understand. The Leaning Tower of Pizza."

The Wabbit's famous Adventure Caffè

The team made its way to a Caffè well known to the Wabbit. But to his horror, the place was surrounded by roadworks and hoardings indicating Torino was changing. The Wabbit snorted. "If a few trucks and a hole in the road represents change then I'm a Dutch Uncle." Lapinette laughed. "What is a Dutch Uncle?" The Wabbit thought for a minute. "Someone who sternly disapproves of everything." Wabsworth giggled. "That's you!" Wabsworth was an android copy of the Wabbit and as such had developed sub routines to avoid getting too much like him. Lapinette shook her head. "They're trying to get rid of the mould, Wabbit" The Wabbit sniggered. "Could have fooled me." Skratch arrived at the back, late as usual. "Aren't you going to ask the question?" "I'll ask it." said Lapinette. "What was that for a sort of adventure we just had?" Skratch meaowed long and hard. "It was riposte to global warming. Global warming debates are typified by folk devils and moral panics." Wabsworth butted in. "I thought that was about Mods and Rockers." Everyone was taken aback. How could Wabsworth know about Mods and Rockers? "The same rules apply," shrugged Skratch. "An over reaction to social problems which amplifies through continual reiteration." Lapinette pouted. "Succinct, but moral panic doesn't explain everything. Contextualization demands that we use figurational approaches." The Wabbit interrupted. "Wabsworth has identified a table and I'm having a moral panic about prosecco." Skratch chuckled. "Where's your folk devil?" The Wabbit paused. "In the detail."

5. The Wabbit and the Problem Pumpkin

The Wabbit rummaged in his fur for quite a long time. Then he pulled out two fire extinguishers he'd found in a market. "Got any vinegar?" Lapinette put a hand down her frock and pulled out a family size bottle of acetic acid. It didn't take long to mix it thoroughly and charge up the extinguishers. The mould monster didn't know what to make of it. But when the Wabbit fired an extinguisher off the monster was aghast. Mould disappeared and so did the foul odours. Lapinette continued to clean up. When the mould had all gone, all that was left was a pumpkin. "You're just an ordinary pumpkin!" yelled the Wabbit. He threw down his extinguisher. It clanged on the rocks. Lapinette exclaimed, "Quite an ugly pumpkin." The pumpkin looked ashamed. "I'm nice inside." The Wabbit laughed. "Are you sure you're not mouldy." The pumpkin gave a little Hallowe'en dance. "Lovely are my seeds. They make a cracking Haitian joumou." The Wabbit picked up the extinguisher, stuck it in his fur and shrugged his shoulders. "Juju more like." Lapinette took pity on the poor pumpkin. "Let's all do a late wee Hallowe'en dance for the Day of the Dead." They joined paws and danced across the rocks. Lapinette hummed a Mexican tune. "What is that dance, Lapinette." The Wabbit grinned. "La Danza de los Diablos," sang Lapinette. The Wabbit and the pumpkin laughed. "God sends food," cried the Pumpkin. "And the devil sends cooks!" nodded the Wabbit. 

The Wabbit and a Bunnyman Hallowe'en

The question on everyone's lips was, "Would the Bunnyman put in an appearance this year?" It had always been a joke - or so they thought. They snuck into the film museum, camped out near the top of the ramp  - and waited. They heard footsteps. They heard a heavy object swishing. They felt eyes looking at them. The Wabbit felt along the shaft of his axe. An image of Jack Nicholson unfurled from the darkness. It growled. "Here's Johnny! I am the Bunnyman." The Wabbit half turned. "It's a publicity stunt. He's not the real Bunnyman." The lips moved. Teeth grimaced. "Oh but I am, Wabbit. You don't get realer." Lapinette bounded forward. "You're just a caretaker." Johnny bared his teeth. "Gonna take care of you, little rabbit. And him. Particularly him." He nodded at Skratch. "Intertextuality indeed. You know nothing, cat." He snarled. Wabsworth commented from the side, as only he could. "The Bunnyman is both horror and melodrama. The hesitation of the uncanny, mediated by the marvelous." Skratch was nervous but he grinned. "The marvelous is merely a response to other discourses. As indeed you respond, masquerading as the Bunnyman." The image howled. "But I am the Bunnyman masquerading as Jack Nicholson, a mere player on a stage." The Wabbit turned fully and hit the curtain with his axe. Lapinette followed with well-chosen swings. The image parted and closed again. Now there was no picture. Only a growling voice remained. "See you next year, Wabbits. But I'll be watching you." The Wabbit breathed a sigh of relief. His heart was beating. It was hard not to pant. Wabsworth spoke. "Jung said ghosts were consciousness without the brain."  Lapinette laughed. "No brain, no gain."

4. The Wabbit and the Mould Monster

The Wabbit and Lapinette moved to another bridge and were just crossing. It was all too sudden for the Wabbit to notice. Lapinette tried to alert him, but the mould monster was already at her heels. It was made of the mouldiest mould with two glaring eyes attached by flaps of skin. It looked like Hell - but didn't sound like much. Just the barest of whooshy slitherings and the occasional belch. "Wabbit, it's the monster!" The Wabbit was looking the other way, "I hope it's credible!" He turned, aghast, "It is credible!" He was rooted to the spot. So was the monster. It mumbled in a spooky way, "Yuk, Rabbits. yeuch." His eyes dangled. The stench was awful. "You smell," said Lapinette, "It's you rabbits that smell," retorted the monster. "I am Mould of Mould Manor." His eyes swung on their flaps, "Where's that?" asked Lapinette. Mould monster laughed long and hard. "Under your paws. I live under the shallow streets. I live under the cobbles. I live on apartment walls. I live in wood, cardboard, tiles... " "That's enough living," shouted the Wabbit. "Go back where you came from." Vile odours swirled round the bridge, Lapinette held her nose, The Wabbit tried to move but he was stuck in its mouldy grip. "I'm going to grow and grow and grow!" yelled the mould. The Wabbit's eyes watered. His face turned red. He started to sneeze. "Gotcha," said the mould. Lapinette spoke under her breath, "We need vinegar and lots of it." The Wabbit wiped away the tears. "We're in enough of a pickle already."

3. The Wabbit and the Smell on the Bridge

They strolled down to the iron bridge. The Wabbit had always liked it there, despite the general grottiness and disparate population. He sniffed. "It's here too." Lapinette scowled. "It's often pongy here!" The Wabbit sniffed again and strolled on. Then it was on them. A cloud of such noxiousness it was hard to believe. Multicoloured vapours surrounded them. They might even have been pretty, but it certainly looked like mould. The smell was appalling. It was more than musty. It was an appalling blend of wet hound and rancid cheese. The Wabbit covered his nose. Lapinette shrieked. "Poo, bum smell!" It was unusual for Lapinette to use any kind of bad language, but the Wabbit could only agree. "Smells like a thousand sweaty asses." Lapinette wrinkled her nose in disapproval. She pointed. "It comes from over there!" The Wabbit looked at where the river was marshy. Hundreds of mouldy jets poured liquid filth into the air accompanied by tuneless humming. "The devil take it," yelled the Wabbit. "Maybe you're right," shrieked Lapinette. "It is a monster." The Wabbit growled. "It's going to make an appearance." Lapinette shrank back. "And a credible one." The Wabbit grabbed Lapinette's paw and dragged her from the bridge. But the mouldy vapour followed them. Humming turned into a howl. Thick fumes surrounded them, ripe as tripe. "Let's get this drunken skunk!" shouted Lapinette.

2. The Wabbit in the Recording Studio

The Wabbit was really worried about the mould. He communicated his worry to Lapinette. Now Lapinette was really worried about the mould. She rightly said that mould could kill and should be eliminated at once. So together they passed by the nearby RAI recording studies to record a warning message. The Wabbit located himself in a recording booth and Lapinette lounged in a nearby seat. "Have you got your script?" The Wabbit flounced and said he didn't need one. "Everyone needs a script," said Lapinette. The Wabbit began. "About this, er um, mouldy old mould." Lapinette fell about laughing. "I told you so. Give it a proper name. We'll map it out, what do you want to communicate?" The Wabbit thought for a minute. "I want to alert everyone to the deadly dangers of mouldy old mould." "Why?" said Lapinette. "Because it's here and amidst us, getting up our noses with its spores." Lapinette smiled. "So Wabbit, what is there to fear but the smell of a damp rag?" "There's a monster!" yelled the Wabbit," I know it in my fur." Lapinette wanted the Wabbit to be more specific. "What can this monster possibly look like?" The Wabbit waved his arms. "Green and black and enormously furry!" Lapinette tried to draw the Wabbit out. "Do you mean this large furry green and black monster will pursue us through the streets by day and night?" The Wabbit stood up. "Not through the streets, by Binky. It knows the streets. It is the streets!"

1. The Wabbit and the Gloopeda Machine

The Wabbit rose early one morning and hopped down Via Po towards the river. He took a breath, but it wasn't the smell he was expecting. Normally he could gulp fresh air, mingled with the tang of the river. But all he could smell was drains. "It's like a thousand wet mops left in a corner for a year." He complained to himself bitterly, which was what he did when things didn't go exactly to plan. Then he saw the truck. It was very brightly coloured and the company name was emblazoned on every surface. "Hmm, Gariglio," he mused. "Never heard of it." He noticed mention of a web site, so he looked it up using his special glasses. He smiled. "I know what the truck is. It's a gloopeda gloopeda machine." A man with big boots came striding from around the corner. The Wabbit nodded to him and recalled an old conversation with a similar operative. "Torino is built on mould," he'd told the Wabbit. "More mould than you can shake a stick at." The Wabbit sniffed. He was allergic to mould. The early morning sun seemed to intensify the smell as if it knew. "Time to move on," he told himself, He hunched his shoulders and continued his walk to the river. But the smell of mould in his nostrils persisted and when he reached the bottom of the cobbled street it was still there. "Lapinette shall hear of this," he murmured. "She knows all about mould." 

The Wabbit's Adventure Caffè

The team sat down at an unfamiliar caffè just to try it. It was a bit strange because the tables didn't quite fit, and they had to sit round a pole that held the umbrella. But they all laughed and said it was an adventure. Skratch wasn't particularly late. He held Sebby the Garibaldi Hat - although Sebby was trying to escape. "I found this hat in this street," he meaowed. "Let go!" yelled Sebby, "I can get around on my own." Skratch laid Sebby down on a chair. "What sort of adventure did you just have?" he purred. "In my opinion," said Wabsworth, "Lukacs and his concept of realism would have been superseded by adding a hat." Lapinette laughed. "You felt Lukacsian theory was missing the vital inclusion of hats?" Wabsworth was perfectly serious. "Hats would have introduced the note of realism that he needed for completion," The Wabbit was not to be outdone. "Plenty of hats in The Leopard." "You're quite right Wabbit," said Lapinette. "It was Piero Tosi who brought us authentic and exquisite hats of the period. Realism was never so well defined." Sebby giggled. "I'm a hat, a hat, an authentic and realistic red hat." He turned over and tried to coax money from passers by. "Donations for the cause!" Skratch grabbed him away. "We're forgetting spectacle and excess." Wabsworth grimaced. "The two are almost synonymous in discursive rapture." They all gasped. The Wabbit leaned back, "I wagered 50 euro on him in the 3.30 at Epsom." "Did he win?" asked Lapinette. She had a glint in her eye. "Yes, he did," winked the Wabbit. "Then you're paying," she chortled. Then they all threw their heads back and laughed and laughed. 

7. The Wabbit, and the Perilous Bridge

Sebby the Hat evaded everyone. The Wabbit and Lapinette tracked him down to a bridge across the River Dora. He was yelling, "You'll never take me alive!" He jumped onto the railings and balanced precariously. "He's going to top himself!" shouted the Wabbit. They made a grab for him, but he evaded capture and tottered on the slim railings. Lapinette was breathless. "Sebby, you've got to back to the Museum. This is no place for a Garibaldi hat."  He toppled over a little further and looked down. The Dora threshed. Spray reached the railings. He prepared to jump. "Sebby, you're a hat, not a nineteenth century anarchist." The Wabbit was bellowing above the sound of crashing water. "You can't stop me!" shouted Sebby. A strangely dressed man on a bicycle passed and he looked across. "Not another hat suicide." he mumbled. He cycled on his way. "It's safer in the museum," said Lapinette. "I hate the museum," responded Sebby. The Wabbit sighed and shook his head. "Oh, why don't you come with us?" Sebby grinned as best he could. "With you? On adventures?" Lapinette moved closer. "You have to behave yourself." "And respect authority," said the Wabbit. "Whose authority?" said Sebby with caution. "Mine!" The Wabbit and Lapinette spoke together. Lapinette inched further. "All right then," agreed Sebby. Lapinette grabbed him and tucked him under her frock. "Comfy," breathed Sebby.

6. The Wabbit and the Big Smash

The Wabbit wasn't expecting it. No sooner had he found glass cabinets when something forced the jeep off track. It might have been an old mortar or something as simple as a gust of wind from a window. They were thrown into the air. Sebby the Hat landed upside down on a window ledge. He complained. "This isn't even the right corridor. These are crockery wotnots. I hate fussy wotnots." The jeep lurched. The Wabbit hit a massive pane of glass and stopped. Lapinette's feet whacked the Wabbit on the nose. He held onto the steering wheel nonetheless as he tried to extricate the jeep from the fragments. "Sorry Wabbit!" The Wabbit groaned. "No particular problem." The din was something else. "We did get glassified," yelled Sebby, "I told you." The jeep settled. The noise died. The Wabbit sat upright. Lapinette's took her foot from his mouth. "This isn't even the right museum," she exclaimed. "It was when I tried to come in," replied the Wabbit. "Well, maybe it was the wrong roof." Lapinette picked shards of glass from her frock. "Get back in the jeep, Sebby." She surveyed the scene. "There will be Hell to pay." The Wabbit shook his head. "Think of it as a restructure. Everyone's doing it." Lapinette gripped Sebby on her lap. "Want me to drive, Wabbit?" "Can't do any harm," shrugged the Wabbit. Lapinette looked round again and passed Sebby across. "Not any more." 

5. The Wabbit and an Extraordinary Entry

The Wabbit changed vehicles because Wabbit 2 was always unfinished. He foresaw trouble and didn't want to damage Wab 1. He snuck along an unusual route, took a service lift, and emerged on the top floor of the Museum of the Risorgimento. Getting down was another matter. He decided to make an extraordinary entry in the hope no-one would believe it. Sebby the Hat had other ideas. "I'm home," he yelled and flew out of the jeep. Lapinette dived after him. "We have to sneak him back and then everything will go back to normal." Her voice was deafening in the still of the hall and the echo bounced down the staircase. There were never many visitors in the museum. The place was deserted. He span the steering wheel and despite the lack of grip the jeep swung to the left and dropped several feet. The engine roared as Lapinette managed to get a grasp of Sebby. She pirouetted and dropped back into the jeep with Sebby in tow. "I'm have the Cross of Military Valour you know." Sebby was more than pleased with himself. The Wabbit scowled. "I've heard enough! You're going back in your cabinet." Sebby the Hat squirmed from Lapinette's grasp, squeezed under the Wabbit's legs, and dropped from the other side of the jeep. "No! I'll never be glassified." The Wabbit slapped a paw to his forehead. "I thought my jokes were bad." Lapinette agreed. "They're woeful but his are worse."

4. The Wabbit and the Accidental Exit

In a second the Wabbit was in his jeep. Lapinette was driving. Sebby the Hat spun wildly in the air. Were they coming or going? The Wabbit hardly knew. He could see a lift intended for the metro but there was no metro in this part of the city. "I came to pick you up." Lapinette span the steering wheel. She just missed one of these awful scooters the Wabbit hated so much. "I was with a knight," said the Wabbit. Lapinette laughed. "Once a price always a prince." "But once a night is enough," replied the Wabbit in a manner that suggested the joke was worn out. "And this hat. It's all the hat's fault." The jeep flew into the air. It was easier to deal with cobbles that way. Sebby was delighted with the turn of events. He giggled with mirth. "What's so funny?" snapped the Wabbit. "I can't tell you off the top of my head," answered Sebby. He giggled again. "Wabbit, I thought you needed rescuing," said Lapinette. The Wabbit nodded grimly. "I did. I think your tour should end, Sebby." Sebby did one of his little dances. "That will be a thousand lire." Lapinette squealed. "Your out of date, Sebby. Anyway, where's the Wabbit's little radio and earphones?" "And my guidebook and brochures," added the Wabbit. Sebby the Hat whizzed back and forth. "That's the thing about hats. Always trying to cover things up." Lapinette couldn't help laughing. "What was your job in the army?" "Entertainer," said Sebby. The Wabbit could smell coffee. "Not catering?" he asked.
 

3. The Wabbit and things out of Whack

The Wabbit barely had time to take out his automatic when the scene changed. A horse and knight bore down on him. The horse bit his ear. His automatic flew from his grasp. A muffled bellow came from the knight, and he flailed with his lance. Sebby the Hat span off into the distance and he was yelling. "Wrong horse, wrong battle, wrong war. wrong museum! He turned in the air and sized up the knight as if for a fight. The Wabbit lunged for the automatic. It too turned in the air and pointed back at him. It racked on its own. The Wabbit dived to the side as it snicker-snackered. Everything had gone terribly wrong. Things were mixed up. Time zones, weaponry, personalities - all were out of whack. Sebby had an idea. He landed square on the knight's face. The knight could no longer see. His visor smashed down along with his lance. He pulled his horse up sharply and lost control of his spurs. The Wabbit rolled across the floor and grabbed his pistol. A 9mm round was still 9mm - even in this warped zone. Sebby continued to stifle the knight. The Wabbit fired a warning shot which bounced around and damaged a valuable chandelier. Things subsided. The horse became still. The knight sank as he gave up. "Things are a little too quiet round here," laughed the Wabbit. Sebbit tumbled over to see him and gasped, "I haven't had so much fun since 1860."  

2. The Wabbit, the Hat and the Horse

The hat led the Wabbit far and wide across the city until they reached the Museum of the Risorgimento. The Wabbit was curious He knew the museum and had a pass - but no idea about the visit. The hat led the way up the stairs. "Where are we going Sebby?" Sebby bounced along. "We're nearly there!" The room was big. In the middle there was a horseman. The horse snuffled. "Hello Sebby. How's your belly off for spots?" Sebby chortled. "I've brought a friend. His name is Wabbit." The Wabbit felt the need for formality. "Commander Wabbit." The horse laughed. "General Garibaldi at your service." The Wabbit saluted. "How is your good wife, Anita?" The Wabbit had met Anita in his travels. "Long dead," said Garibaldi, "As indeed am I." The Wabbit was a bit puzzled because the horse was speaking for Garibaldi. Sebby did a little dance. "We all take turns to be Garibaldi. I live along the corridor in a display cabinet." The Wabbit grinned. "Good game. Let's go and see that cabinet." The horse snickered and reared. "Can I come?" Sebby laughed. "You're the General!" The Wabbit wasn't sure the horse would go through the door but decided not to worry about it. Sebby led the way. "There are hats and tunics and medals and guns." The Wabbit sniffed the air. He could smell mineral spirits. He looked down the corridor and pondered. "Someone's cleaning guns." He felt for his automatic ...

1. The Wabbit and the Unguided Tour

The Wabbit made up a tour for himself. He just went for the first thing that came into his head and then another and so on. His first site was Superga because he liked to ride the Tramway up the hill. At the top there was a Basilica. It had been the site of many adventures and he stood stock still remembering them all. He murmured like a tour guide. The war with France culminated in the Siege of Turin. Vittorio Amedeo II fulfilled a promise to build a cathedral on the hill if the French were overturned. The Wabbit mulled it over. "Good job too," he thought. But he was pensive. "Many soldiers killed in that war, thousands." He nodded his head. His personal tour was going rather well. He looked up. The sky turned a peculiar shade. Buildings too. "I'm in an old photograph!" he thought. But it couldn't be anything to do with history. The Wabbit was an expert on photography and knew it was invented in the early 1800s. He blinked. Suddenly colour was back. Then it was gone again. Sepia returned. He thought for a while. "Maybe it's me." Then he heard a voice calling. "Wabbit, Wabbit! Follow me." He couldn't see anyone to follow. "Here, here!" He looked down. It was a military hat, more of a cap really. And it was red - a vivid crimson in a sea of sepia. He stooped down to speak to it. The hat looked up, or at least the peak did. "What's your name?" asked the Wabbit. "Eusebio Airoldi." came the reply. "That's a mouthful." said the Wabbit gently. "Call me Sebby," said the hat.

The Wabbit at his famous Adventure Caffè

The team made its way along Via San Massimo. "It's definitely up this street," said Lapinette. The Wabbit was sceptical but said nothing. Skratch approached from the rear. He was complaining. "Cars come at you from nowhere," he screeched. The Wabbit laughed. "You prefer Rome?" There was silence. The Wabbit knew that Torino was quiet compared to the hustle bustle of Roman cars. "Never mind that," laughed Lapinette. "What was that for a sort of adventure we just had?" Skratch glared balefully at a scooter going the wrong way. "It was rich in symbolism." If Skratch could have fired a bolt of lightning at the scooter, its driver would be a lump of shriveled carbon. Wabsworth snorted. "Greek Gods were nasty. They didn't pull punches." Lapinette grunted. "I'd say they were pragmatic rather than cruel." The Wabbit didn't really agree. "They were cruel to be kind. Punishment usually fitted the crime." Skratch meaowed plaintively "Styx seemed put out by Zeus. But she bore no particular malice." "And he got the water he wanted." added Wabsworth. Lapinette was determined to find the restaurant she wanted. "Try veering to the right," said the Wabbit. They came on a large piazza with many restaurants. "There it is!" cheered Lapinette. "I knew it all along." "God's oath," muttered the Wabbit under his breath. But everyone heard it and laughed and laughed.