3. The Wabbit and the Ghostly Coins

The Wabbit and Lapinette were drawn to a nearby church. They entered with trepidation since there was a gloomy feel to it. The pile of coins surprised them. They looked genuine enough, but they were outsize - as if in a sale for the larger person. "What do you make of this, Lapinette?" Lapinette shook her head. "I just don't know. It's like they were intended for a ghostly children's party." There was a chill in the air and it made the Wabbit's fur stand on end. "We're not alone. But don't look behind you." Lapinette knew the Wabbit's special glasses enabled him to see to the rear. The Wabbit could see three spectres and he grumbled, "Why are they always in threes?" They hopped to the other side of the coins and risked looking back. The spectres advanced slowly until they reached the Wabbit and Lapinette. Then they passed through them as if they weren't there. The Wabbit felt an internal shudder and so did Lapinette. They turned to watch them float to the back of the church. The spectres made a clinking clanking sound as they exited. The Wabbit and Lapinette turned back. The coins had vanished. "I think these are your observers." Lapinette half smiled. Now it was the Wabbit's turn to smile. With a shake of his head he muttered. "No good following them I suppose, they're following me. Where have I seen them before?" Lapinette thought for a minute. "From what you told me, they're similar to the ones from that Ghost Ferry." The Wabbit looked pensive. "Yep, I could see right through them."

2. The Wabbit under Surveillance

The following day the Wabbit took Lapinette for a hop in the EUR district. He explained to Lapinette about the architectural style of the Fascist period. "It's rationalist," he said. Oh I know all that," said Lapinette. She explained about the original plan. "I think these were office buildings," said the Wabbit. "Still are," smiled Lapinette. There was a pregnant pause. "I see a shadow up there!" shouted the Wabbit. "They're after me." The Wabbit still insisted he was under surveillance. "Probably just a trick of the light," replied Lapinette, "Just because a shadow appears on a balcony doesn't mean you're being followed." They strolled paw in paw along the street. "Didn't we visit an air raid shelter around here." The Wabbit wouldn't let it go. "Yes," agreed Lapinette, "Well, you insisted there was a monster in there." The Wabbit was appalled. "There was a monster!" Lapinette stood her ground. "It was hardly a monster. It was one of your doppelgangers." "It had my blood," groaned the Wabbit, "Wasn't a Wabphage creature monster enough." Lapinette sighed. "A single shadow isn't surveillance; it's not doing anything." The Wabbit turned around. Just then, the shadow waved and vanished. "But I saw that. It's overt surveillance. It wanted you to see it." Now Lapinette looked worried. "It might be using AI." The Wabbit turned back. The shadow appeared again. "Facial recognition," said Lapinette. The Wabbit made a silly face and stuck his tongue out. The shadow vanished again. The Wabbit shrugged. "Now I know how to get rid of it." 

1. The Wabbit and the Surveillance Factor

The Wabbit was hopping on a stroll near Via Aurelia. He felt as if he was being watched. He glanced around. "Hello Wabbit," said Wabsworth. Commander Wabsworth was the Wabbit's android copy. That copy had been made quite some time ago, so Wabsworth was now rather different from the original. "I felt I was being watched," said the Wabbit. "That was me," replied Wabsworth. The Wabbit shook his head. "No, I knew you were sneaking up. Someone else." Wabsworth laughed. "You're a secret agent, it's in your job description." The Wabbit scanned the buildings. "I didn't know I had one." Wabsworth stuck his paw in his fur, a bit like the Wabbit. "It's a secret." The Wabbit smirked. "You think you're funny." "We both are, but I'm funnier than you!" said Wabsworth. They laughed and hopped together for a while. "Have you got any enemies, maybe?" asked Wabsworth. "Does the Pope keep bears in the woods?" replied the Wabbit. "Hmmm," mused Wabsworth. The Wabbit smiled to himself. "Do you still have an off-switch?" Wabsworth grimaced and snarled. "If you had one, would you tell anyone?" Wabsworth had no sense of humour about that particular question and the Wabbit knew it. "Still got that feeling?" asked Wabsworth. "I have," groaned the Wabbit. "If he gets any closer," sighed Wabsworth," we'll have to buy him a coffee." "And a cornuto!" quipped the Wabbit.

The Wabbit and his Adventure Caffè

At Lapinette's insistence the team gathered at the Coin Excelsior Department Store in Via Cola di Rienzo. Lapinette had been lingering at Tiffany's on the bottom floor in the hope that the Wabbit would roll up with money. This he had failed to do - and instead, met her on an upper floor. Lapinette jumped in the air. "I see a frock I'd like. It's over there." The Wabbit had seen the price tag. "Maybe I could mobilise some cash from the Dinosaur Fund," he thought. "Working expenses," he smiled, "But we have to go to our Adventure Caffè. Look. Here's Wabsworth and Skratch." The Caffè was in the basement, not far from Tiffany's. The Wabbit's eyes narrowed. "Let's go and look at that frock first." They all linked paws and made their way. "What was that for an adventure you just had?" asked Wabsworth. The Wabbit paused. Skratch jumped in. "It was harum scarum adventure that elicited a fast emotional response from the reader." Wabsworth shook his head. "That doesn't quite cover it. It was disorientating and frantic." Lapinette was dragging the Wabbit's paw. "Non-linear structure and repetitive motifs," she panted. "I rest my case," meaowed Skratch. "It was a network of thematic isotopies," he added. "What?" yelled the Wabbit. Lapinette stopped in her tracks and forgot all about the frock. "Eek," she screamed. "I made that up," smiled Skratch.

7. The Wabbit and Lapinette Philosophise

Lapinette watched the Wabbit jump through the hole at the end of the tunnel. He turned and beckoned. "We're near Via Giulia!" he exclaimed. "We can get the bus." Lapinette didn't hesitate. She jumped through too, then looked behind her. The hole closed and there was only brickwork. "How does that work?" she said to the wall. The wall wasn't saying. "Or we could go to da Luigi's. I'm hungry," shrugged the Wabbit. Lapinette confessed to being a bit peckish herself. So they turned and made their way along Via Giulia. "What was that all about?" She was used to strange things happening, but that seemed without purpose. "I suppose it was to remind us that we should always be prepared." The Wabbit was having a philosophical turn. "You sound like a Boy Scout." sighed Lapinette. "Be prepared to be entertained," quipped the Wabbit. Lapinette couldn't help giggling. "Your jokes are really not very funny." The Wabbit smiled. "Like being trapped inside a hole filled with water. I meant well." That's a very dreary joke, Wabbit," groaned Lapinette. They laughed and hopped along, paw in paw. "Shall we visit that charity shop?" asked the Wabbit. "It's only open at weird times," replied Lapinette. "We could break in," suggested the Wabbit. "Rob a charity shop. Now that's funny!" exclaimed Lapinette. "No. We could leave our old stuff there," smiled the Wabbit.

6. The Wabbits down under the City

The Wabbit and Lapinette were enveloped in darkness, then they were tumbling in the depths of the city. It was wet and carried with it the stench of generations of stuff from carts and horses to chariots. Even elephants. And a million old togas left in a corner, wet and mouldy, to wreck their reek on the Wabbits. Lapinette could see the ground coming up quickly and it was layered with poo. "This isn't the Franciacorta I was expecting!" She landed with a splat. "Or even cut-price Prosecco of dubious origin." The Wabbit was equally scathing. His paws gripped the slimy brickwork, and he pulled himself up to a hole in the wall. "That stationery cabinet, I'll kill it!" Lapinette pulled dry cleaning material from the depths of her frock and dabbed here and there. "You can't kill a stationery cabinet!" The Wabbit's 28 teeth flashed. "Watch me!" Lapinette was more interested in getting out. The hideous stench was getting to her. "What on earth did they do in Ancient Rome to keep clean?" The Wabbit gave a wry laugh. "They probably didn't bother." "The senators must have been clean," exclaimed Lapinette. "Everyone was clean and they dumped dirty stuff down here!" shouted the Wabbit, "Out of sight, out of mind." Lapinette succeeded in getting her frock clean. "Regulations?" "Hah, plenty no doubt!" exclaimed the Wabbit. He looked around. "There's a tunnel over there! Could be a way out. And there's a light." "That would brighten my day," exclaimed Lapinette.

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. 

7. The Wabbit and Sybil's Cave

The Wabbit was never likely to get to a bar, because there was a whoosh and a bang and he and Lapinette were transported to a deep cave. The shadow would have grinned but there was no visible grin on the shadow. "This is Sybil's cave." The Wabbit smiled, "Where's Sybil?" So the shadow continued. "She was a prophetess and an oracle, but she forgot to wish for eternal youth. She withered away until she could fit in a jar." The Wabbit and Lapinette looked around for a jar. But there was no jar to be found. "I read about that in the Eliot's The Wasteland," said Lapinette. "Sounds like a good name for a pub," quipped the Wabbit. Lapinette sighed. "You like gloomy pubs." The Wabbit shrugged. He was still hoping for a prosecco. "What about these people down there?" The shadow shrugged too. "You would know them as noodles." The Wabbit filled his lungs and shouted, "Hey noodles, seen any jars with an oracle inside?" The noodles turned and fled, leaving only a scented candle. "Let's examine that candle," said Lapinette. "It might just contain the oracle." They advanced on the jar containing the scented candle. They sniffed. The candle spoke and it was indeed Sybil. "I am in a state of wretched witheredness for eternity. I was given a bargain by Apollo for immortality but forgot something." "What did you forget?" asked Lapinette. "I've long forgotten," moaned Sybil. 

6. The Wabbit and the Franciscans

The Wabbits found themselves transported to a fine basilica, where they were faced with a projection of two priests. "This is Assisi of St Frances fame," said the shadow, "and these are shadows of the priests who work here." The Wabbit began to smile. "Making wine no doubt." Lapinette chided the Wabbit. "It's not a wine making order." The Wabbit smirked. "There is a secret and holy cave where St Francis did turn water into wine. Lapinette put her paws on her hips. "That's in Narni. Totally different." The Wabbit immediately thought of Narnia but refrained from saying so. However, the Wabbit knew that St Francis was famous for his work with animals. He talked with birds and all the animals, even rabbits - although he liked shrimp pie and wolfed it down at every opportunity. "Not a vegetarian then," murmured Lapinette. "No" said the Wabbit, "He liked his pies." Lapinette looked at the figures. "Maybe they're discussing shrimp pies." The Wabbit shook his head. "They're discussing the location of the nearest bar." Lapinette inclined her head in wonder. "It's just down the road," said the Wabbit. "The Ristorante Bar, San Francesco, on Via San Francesco." Lapinette gasped. "How on earth do you know these things?" The Wabbit smiled an infuriating smile. "I study," he smirked. 

5. The Wabbit and the Stick in The Sea

The sky lightened and the beach beckoned. A hop was in order so before retiring to a bar they made their way along the shore. "There was a bar, wasn't there?" asked Lapinette. The Wabbit hopped onwards. "I saw one."  They walked further. Lapinette pouted, "Surely it was closed?" The Wabbit laughed. "We can leave money." They headed further along the beach. There was a man on the edge of the water, digging in the sea with a stick. "Isn't that the man of whom we spoke?" said the Wabbit. "I hardly think so," replied Lapinette, "that's an old legend. This isn't the beginning of the world and the sky and the earth are far apart." The Wabbit shrugged. "Maybe he's doing it for fun." Lapinette nodded and they continued their hop. "Why do you think it's called the Island of Love?" asked the Wabbit. "It's a secluded spot," responded Lapinette. "Young courting couples come here and ... well ..." She paused and smiled. "Get flirty?" The Wabbit completed her sentence for her. They giggled and hugged. On their return they found the man had made a substantial hole, but he was nowhere to be seen. Only the stick remained. It was stuck in the sand,  pointing at an angle. "What do you think?" asked Lapinette. "I guess that's the way to the bar," grinned the Wabbit.  

4. The Wabbit and the Island of Love.

The shadow reached out and touched each of them. Both the Wabbit and Lapinette found themselves on an island - but where was it? "Not much of a place for a reception," scowled the Wabbit. Lapinette nodded in agreement. Then the Voice spoke to them once more. "This is the Island of Love. People have no shadow here." The Wabbit and Lapinette looked all around. "But who are these people?" The voice seemed to smile even though it was only a voice. "They come on boats and leave their shadows behind on their vessel. When they return, they get them back." The people picked their way around the island, looking for something that they couldn't find. Some were couples, some were alone. They drifted around aimlessly. Some picked up sticks, drew messages in the sand then threw the sticks in the sea. But the sticks always floated back to join the untidy heaps of other sticks. "This practice is of great antiquity," said the Voice, "and the sticks have a symbolic function who's meaning we cannot determine." Lapinette nodded gravely. "Perhaps an old man at Creation found himself trapped between Heaven and Earth. He used the stick to push the sky away." The Wabbit put his word in. "That's how sticks became bent." The Voice was silent. Then he said, "There you have it." The Wabbit pounced. "We'll have that drink now."

Thomas (1985), Paris, Chiron.

3. The Wabbit is followed on The Bus

The Wabbit and Lapinette took the bus from the Gianicolo Hill but the shadow of his ears was still there. "It's still there Lapinette," said the Wabbit, "and now it has eyes." Lapinette looked exasperated. "Where is it?" she asked. "Outside the bus, " replied the Wabbit. "What's it doing?" said "Lapinette. "Looking in, said the Wabbit. "It can't be!" said Lapinette. "We lost it when we got on the bus."  The Wabbit grimaced. "It hung on, I don't know how." It was the Wabbit's opinion that Rome buses jolted more than they had to. "It should have fallen off and been crushed under a lorry." Lapinette began to sing softly. "Me and my shadow. Bussing down the avenue." Passengers looked up. "It's not funny!" yelled the Wabbit. "Yes it is!", said a passenger. "Stay out of it, it's my shadow," grumbled the Wabbit. The eyes stared at the Wabbit. He stared back and made a face. The eyes jiggled. "You're not a real shadow," he exclaimed. "I am so!" replied the shadow. It was a bit muffled by traffic noise and sounded like "Yam Shochu." The Wabbit brightened. "Yam Shōchū?" He turned to Lapinette. "We're being invited for a Japanese drink." Lapinette nodded. "Don't mind if I Shōchū."

2. The Wabbit and the Frozen Prosecco

The Wabbit made for the Gianicolo Hill, but he kept glancing behind him. He sensed a presence but couldn't make out what it was. "Hello Wabbit!" Sometimes Lapinette could make him jump and he did. "Wanna drink, Wabbit?" The Wabbit couldn't resist prosecco, but he noticed the bottle Lapinette was carrying was frozen. Lapinette read his thoughts. "It says cold drinks, Wabbit" The Wabbit laughed. "Not frozen, Lapinette." Lapinette blew on the bottle and it gently lost its icy coating and the contents settled at drinking temperature. "Before I get glasses," she said, "What's that shadow following you?" The Wabbit looked behind him, then shrugged. "It looks like your ears, said Lapinette. "Just my ears?" asked the Wabbit, "Not my whole shadow?" Lapinette pirouetted. "Just ears." The Wabbit pondered. "That must mean something. The shadow represents unintegrated parts of myself!" Lapinette made to get the glasses. "Perhaps you should listen more!" "What did you say?" smiled the Wabbit. He watched her disappear behind the doors and could hear prosecco being poured. "Who are the four Romans?" "You think you're very funny," said Lapinette. But the ears appeared behind the Wabbit and spoke. "They're Galba, Otho, Vitellius and Vespasian - and they're not half as funny as me!" 

1. The Wabbit and a Ghost in the Machine

The Wabbit looked up at Lapinette from the floor of the Centrale Montemartini Museum. He was dwarfed by the machinery and knew it. A faint smile played around his face as if it didn't know whether to come or go. He shrugged. She shrugged back. Lapinette knew what he was thinking. He was thinking he didn't care about the next adventure. He was tired as the old machinery, and his limbs ached. At least the turbines were getting a rest. He waved to Lapinette and she waved back. "What shall we do now?" she called. The Wabbit shrugged again. "Paint the town red?" he quipped. She started down the stairs. "Got any red paint?" He blinked and she shimmered in the light and vanished. He'd been talking to himself again and he wondered if it was a touch of madness like the Mad March Hare. It was then that he heard it. A tinkering sound that came from the depths of the turbine. It seemed to be shouting "Let me out! I haven't been greased, and my system has seen no oil for eons." The Wabbit had quite enough of ghosts, either in or out of the machine. "Begone! You're merely a trope," he said. "A trope, am I?" said the voice, "Get me out or the trope will be on you." "Hah!" said the Wabbit and he made for the door. "Stop!" cried the voice and a shadow emerged - a shadow such as the Wabbit had never seen.

The Wabbit and his Adventure Caffè

A slap-up lunch was called for and the Wabbit said he would host it. Skratch was late as usual, but unapologetic. Wabsworth and Lapinette arrived first or so they thought. The Wabbit had concealed himself by the serving area and he called out, "Welcome everyone." Lapinette knew he was there all along. "I thought you weren't coming Wabbit," she smiled. It was a hot day, and the sun bleached the sidewalk. The Wabbit laughed. "Me? Miss the Adventure Caffè? Not likely ... Here's Skratch!" Skratch arrived late to make an entrance. "Ask me the question," he cried. "OK, Skratch my turn!" said Wabsworth, "What was that for a sort of adventure?" Skratch pretended to ponder. "It was about imagining the future." Lapinette pounced. "A future that's already here!" The Wabbit rapped his paw on a chair. "I don't think that matters. It's a design fiction. We created a narrative imaginary world. A map of sorts." Lapinette smiled. "A disarticulated form. It questions the narratological shape between fiction and reality." "If indeed we can speak of a reality," meaowed Skratch, "that Umberto Eco would have questioned in specularity." Wabsworth snorted. "Yet possible worlds have been around since Aristotle." Skratch grunted. "Maybe but possible worlds are stipulated, we don't need binoculars." The Wabbit's head was beginning to spin. "Does that stipulation get us a drink any quicker?" Skratch laughed. "You know Wabbit, it just might."

[I'm indebted to Mirko Gentile in 'Where are the flying cars? Exploring the role of SF in the construction of experiential futures.' Lexia Journal of Semiotics 45-46] 

6. The Wabbit and the Fresh Beach

Turbina's jet exploded with a blast that would awaken the dead. The blast included the extra odours at which Turbina was adept. He moved at the speed of light. The beach looked pleasant, but the cushion was still there. "I thought you were sending us back," said the Wabbit. The cushion curled into a shape that the Wabbit didn't like. "We wanted to make sure you were back and that you stayed well and truly back. Do not pester us with your maleficent odours again." The cushion began to dissipate and before long it had disappeared entirely. Wabsworth grinned. "What was that all about?" The Wabbit looked cheerful. "I don't rightly know, but here we are." He called to a beach bar for two proseccos. "This place looks familiar," observed Wabsworth. "Fregene," stated the Wabbit. "Quiet," said Wabsworth. "End of the summer," replied the Wabbit. Wabsworth looked at the Wabbit with horror. "It's 34 degrees, the sun is shining and the beach is sultry." The Wabbit merely shrugged. "It's the end of the summer and that's why no-one is here." Wabsworth leaned back and took in the scene. "I'm glad I'm an android, I'll never understand humanity," he murmured. "So what about me?" said Turbina, "I'm parked illegally on the beach." The Wabbit threw back his head and roared with laughter. "This is near Rome and frankly we don't give a damn." "I see our proseccos coming," said Wabsworth. "I want one too," said Turbina. "Non-alcoholic?" asked the Wabbit. "Have you lost all reason?" said Turbina.   

5. The Wabbit and the Smelly Kinkdom

Clouds billowed in! They found themselves surrounded by air cushions and they were none too happy. The one on the right had a ferocious expression and he smelled quite rank. "This is the Cloud Kinkdom and we argue all the time about how kinky we are," said the first air cushion. Turbina butted in. "Perhaps you could argue about how to reduce your smell."  They started to argue again. "That's the whole point," said the second, and he let out an enormous fart. "I'm getting out of here," said Turbina, but she couldn't make her wheels move. "I'm going to fire up all my gases, then have a right good clean up." Wabsworth covered his nose. She was as good as her word. All her turbine waste came pouring out. The first air cushion was aghast. He'd never smelled anything like it. "Styuck, yuk poo," he exclaimed. The second merely keeled over in a dead faint. "How do you manage!" he groaned. "Oh, we do, it's hard but we do," said the Wabbit. Secretly he gave a thumbs up to Turbina. Wabsworth encouraged her. "What about your second stage emissions?" he asked. Turbina emitted the ghastliest smell the Wabbit had ever known. His  fur curled like a snake stepped on it - but he didn't show it. "We're sending you back," said the cushion entities. The clouds cleared. They were sitting on a beach with clear air all around. "That blew me away," joked the Wabbit. Turbina erupted. Her wheels span and a sea of sand sprayed. "If it happens again, I'll blow you away, Commander!"

4. The Wabbit and the Air Kinkdom

The Air Cushion Entity took them across Rome and into a heavily guarded building. "Take no notice," he chortled, "This is all my domain. You are recognised as acceptable." Turbina made a comfortable landing. "What do we do now?" asked the Wabbit. "Nothing," said the Cushion entity. He settled into the waiting grooves. They seemed to have been made for him. The Wabbit noticed how kinky they were. "Are you always this kinky?" he asked, "I strive to be," said the Cushion. "Can you be kinky on your own?" asked Wabsworth. "I am many and we may take on whatever form we wish." The Cushion as adamant. "Would you like a refreshment?" "I thought you'd never ask," replied the Wabbit. The Wabbit was enveloped in a fine spray of Prosseco and so was Wabsworth. "This is kinky," said Wabsworth. He turned on his Prosecco enjoyment sub routine. "I'm all sticky," muttered Turbina. The Cushion responded by showering the car interior with a fragrant anti-static cleaning material. "What about a sandwich?" asked Turbina. "I only do liquids," laughed the Cushion. "I have a pulverised version." Turbina shuddered. The Wabbit fished in his fur and handed Turbina a salad sandwich. "Emergency rations," he grinned. The Wabbit looked around. "What takes place here?" "Very little," hooted the cushion, "it's a place to be." The Wabbit and Wabsworth got out of Turbina. The Wabbit struggled a bit, "Doesn't get any easier, does it?" grunted Wabsworth, "But would you like another prosecco?" The Wabbit leaped out with ease.

3. The Wabbit, Turbina and the Cushion

The Wabbit and Wabsworth didn't have time to visit any bar. Turbina coasted down and her doors opened. She yelled "Get in, get in." They were hardly settled in their seats when she took off. Her jet blasted - and inside seconds they were in EUR. "I've got to get your air cushion, Wabbit." The Wabbit knew things were serious if Turbina called him Wabbit and not Commander. "Why?" asked the Wabbit. "It's not what it seems!" replied Turbina. "What does it seem like?" asked Wabsworth. There was a silence as Turbina thought. "It seems like an entity." "An air cushion entity?" The Wabbit was curious. "It has properties," said Turbina," Look what it's doing! Attaching to my radiator. It might drain my precious liquids." Just then the air cushion detached from Turbina's radiator and started on the windows. "I don't need a wash and brush up," squealed Turbina. The Wabbit watched as the entity fixed itself to the air caps on the tyres. Then the entity spoke. "I have checked your systems and you are now deemed acceptable to enter the Air Kinkdom of Above. I will take you there." The cushion expanded and enveloped Turbina in a major cloud. The Wabbit shrugged and looked at Wabsworth. "Call it developmental research in fluid mechanics," he said. "Did he say Kinkdom?" asked the Wabbit. Wabsworth nodded gravely. "We could all do with straightening out," said the Wabbit. Wabsworth was inclined to agree. "All this moisture but no mention of a drink," sulked the Wabbit.

2. The Wabbit and the Air Cushion

The Wabbit and Wabsworth got to work on the new system and took it to a friendly shopping centre. They'd managed to persuade Turbina the Jet car to test it out and although she was reluctant at first, she saw sense in the enterprise. For a week's supply of salad sandwiches, she agreed to take part. Shoppers thought it was a raffle and tried to give Wabsworth money. He gave everyone a receipt and smiled nicely. At first all went well. They injected the air cushion and Turbina rose in the air. The Wabbit grinned and patted the hood. Wabsworth kicked the tyres and lit the fires. Turbina engaged her engine, and she floated round in a circle. "So far, so good," said the Wabbit. Turbina wasn't so happy. "I've no control of height, Commander." The Wabbit nodded. "We're working on that." Turbina could be bad- tempered. "Better work on it quick, I'm going to have to engage my jet with the new lattice drive." Wabsworth shook his head. "Not inside the shopping centre, please." Turbina powered up. The blast broke several windows and sent three men's suits spiralling into the air. Turbina continued to rise. An enterprising member of staff opened the sliding roof windows and Turbina shot right through them. "What next?" Turbina was remarkably calm. The air cushion began to disintegrate and disappeared into the atmosphere. Turbina flew in the sky above Valle Aurelia. Her voice crackled over the supermarket loudspeakers. "Your idea needs work, Commander." "Back to the drawing board," murmured the Wabbit. "I know a nearby bar," said Wabsworth. 

1. The Wabbit and the need for Tyre Sales

The Wabbit was passing the tyre shop in Via Gregorio VII. He always looked in with fascination and considered the continuing need for tyres. Couldn't vehicles just glide on cushions of air? There would be no wear and rear, he thought, no need for a tread, no blowouts, no inflation, deflation or any other kind of ation. The Wabbit considered it a little longer and came upon a problem. Without friction, how would the automobile stop? He wanted to ask the man in the garage but it was deserted and there was no-one there to ask. He thought for a bit and then he hit upon an idea. Hover cars. The cars would use anti- gravity technology and hover a metre from the ground. The Wabbit remembered an article in Popular Mechanics and a book by an Australian author. He determined he'd discuss it with Wabsworth and began hopping in his direction. As it happened, Wabsworth had a long-abandoned prototype in the back of the shed. Maybe they could dig it out and modify it. The Wabbit had some old bits too. Liberated from Denny Shipyard in the Clyde, they had lain about at the back of The Department of Wabbit Affairs for years. They were highly usable, at least on water. Why not on land? With a spring in his hop, the Wabbit made his way to see Wabsworth. 

The Wabbit goes to his Adventure Caffè

The team assembled at a shopping centre before going on to an Adventure Caffè. It was nearly lunchtime and the Wabbit felt peckish. He turned in the direction of the bars - all of which were outside. Restaurants within were far from good. He had no wish to indulge in the young people's passion for fake tapas, nor indeed a glutinous hamburger from the Wild West Emporium. "You don't want a bam-bam burger?" asked Wabsworth. "I'd rather Tom Mix shot a cigarette out my mouth," replied the Wabbit. Skratch guffawed. "The Wabbit is old enough to remember Tom Mix as a boy!" The Wabbit drawled. "I recall the day when Tom and I helped Wyatt Earp at the OK Canal." "That's Corral, Wabbit," grinned Lapinette. The Wabbit sniggered to himself. "What was that for a kind of adventure you had with Lapinette," asked Wabsworth. Lapinette sniggered too. "It was one of these filler adventures where no-one knows quite what to do." Skratch meaowed furiously. "I found it rather pleasant. Filler stories can subtly explore social issues through allegorical or symbolic means." Wabsworth laughed. "That sounds like artificial intelligence material, Skratch. I could have invented that for your good self." Skratch was delighted. "That's delightfully reflexive of you, Wabsworth." The Wabbit smiled. "If you're reflexing, Wabsworth. it's time for you to buy the drinks."

7. The Wabbit and the Pleasant Bar

There was little in the way of impact. The Wabbit and Lapinette found themselves in a pleasant beach bar. It was more than pleasant. Lapinette had to admit that. A voice hailed them from the Lepus. "Ahoy there!" called Jenny, "This be a deserted bar in the Med. It be having all mod cons for a holiday destination." Lapinette smiled. But she had not forgotten. "Where the market?" The Lepus answered. "There be an African gentleman along in a second carrying all your market needs upon his back." The Wabbit grinned. "Such as?" Jenny's voice echoed out. "Things for threading things to other things." The Wabbit laughed. "I need one of these things." Lapinette called out. "Anything else?" Jenny answered. "You may purchase any of the furniture before it be washed away. " The Wabbit was quick. "I want that table with all the drawers in the side." Lapinette hesitated. "Where will you put it?" "In my shed," came his reply. "Before it becomes driftwood," he added. "How much?" asked Lapinette. "Be making an offer," called Jenny. "Five euro," said Lapinette. "It be for charity," called Jenny. "Six euro," said Lapinette. "You be driving a hard bargain," said Jenny, "But how do you propose transporting it."  Lapinette made a tutting noise, "On your ship." Jenny 's voice was soft. "There be shipping costs." The Wabbit put his oar in. "We wouldn't want to rock the boat." Jenny's voice came back at once. "These jokes be so fishy that I'll do it for free." "More than we can afford," quipped the Wabbit. 

6. The Wabbit and the Torpedo Bar

The Wabbit and Lapinette found themselves coasting at speed. just above the water. They were between the line laid out by timbers and heading straight for a dilapidated structure. "There it is!" Lapinette was excited. The Wabbit wondered when he was going to get a prosecco. "It looks like something left over from yesteryear," commented the Wabbit. "There will be a bar, I know there will!" Lapinette always seemed to be cheerful. The Wabbit desisted from being grumpy. "The voice said there was only vodka, and I expect it will be the very best." Lapinette proclaimed it would be yummy and ice cold. The Wabbit could confirm that from the temperature of the water. "Baltic cold," he nodded. They skimmed along grazing the timbers. "Maybe there will be a welcoming party," murmured Lapinette. The Wabbit could only imagine. "It looks wartime," said the Wabbit, "Maybe we came back in time and the party will be composed entirely of frogmen." "And women," added Lapinette. They were getting closer and could see that not much remained. "Just enough to make bijou dwellings," snorted the Wabbit. "What's the opposite of bijou?" asked Lapinette. "Gargantuan," said the Wabbit. Suddenly they were being pulled by a giant force. "We're about to find out," said Lapinette, "Brace for impact." 

5. The Wabbit in the Submarine Bar.

With the aid of complicated equipment, Lapinette and the Wabbit transferred to the submarine. But to their surprise, there was no bar to be seen, "Maybe Jenny thought we meant a Bar Class submarine," Lapinette shook her head. "It's too modern, and I'm not certain, but it could be Soviet." A voice rang out over the tannoy. "The bar will shortly be open for the same of hard, very hard and extremely hard drinks." The Wabbit looked puzzled. "There's not much room on a submarine for a bar." The voice replied. "We have ways of getting you there." Lapinette didn't fancy crawling into the torpedo housing and said so. "We wouldn't dream of that," said the voice. "Merely sit on the torpedo you see in front of you. We'll bring you whatever you desire." The Wabbit shrugged and lay astride the torpedo. Lapinette tucked in behind. "Two Proseccos," she cried. "Vodka only!" shouted the voice. The torpedo began to move. It slid into the housing and through a door. "Fire," shouted the voice. Everything turned into blur and the Wabbits found themselves in the deepest blue sea they had ever seen. They were spinning, but levelled out. They could see something amazing. A torpedo house at sea. "There's definitely a bar there," grunted the Wabbit. "Looks like a Vodka Bar!" said Lapinette. "Man is not a camel," toasted the Wabbit, "He must drink." 

4. The Wabbit and the Yellow Bar

Jenny rolled back and forward in a pirate fashion. "This be the first bar." Lapinette could see the Wabbit wasn't happy. "Wabbit, we could at least try it." The Wabbit didn't like yellow. In fact, he hated it. And it also reminded him of the popular tune by the Beatles. He didn't like that either. Jenny laughed. "There be all your favourite rum cocktails." Lapinette hid a smile. The Wabbit only liked one rum cocktail. That was Cuba Libre. Then Jenny said, "There be prosecco, but it also be in yellow." The Wabbit thought he could tolerate that. Lapinette giggled. "I'm going to have a yellow prosecco and if there's a juke box, I'll play songs by Yello." "Oh Yeah," quipped the Wabbit. Lapinette gave a sickly smile. "Bow wow, chick chicka chick, oh yeah," Now the Wabbit swayed. "I'm beginning to warm to the idea, oh yeah, oh yeah." Lapinette swayed too, "The moon, beautiful, the sun even more beautiful. Ah ha ha." Jenny guffawed. "I think you'd better get on that submarine oh yeah. You can have a good time, such a good time, like the pirates of old, chicka chicka." The Wabbit jumped up and down like a dog. "Bow bow wow!" he yelled. He paused. "Got any Malibu?" Lapinette shouted. "The sicklier the better." 

3. The Wabbit and a Sea Market Voyage

Lapinette scrunched up her eyes and thought as hard as she could. "Market, market, market," she thought, "Market we've never been before!" As if by some enchanted hand they were conveyed into a sea of blue. They were on the bridge of the Lepus and Captain Rabbit Jenny was in charge. "Welcome me hearties," she said, "I'm on my way to a market under the sea. It be open today, for the sale of unobtainable objects." The Lepus was close to the surface and sun threw shards of dappled light in the water. "How did you manage that?" asked the Wabbit. "I just made a wish," answered Lapinette. The Lepus engines burst unto life and soon they were making their way down. "Davy Jones Locker be a good place to start," said Jenny. "There are things there that are certainly not available to the common shopper." The Wabbit considered. "Left-handed mariner's loop?" This was met with a loud guffaw. "Nothing so mundane," replied Jenny. "Plenty of ghost cutlery, made from ingots of lost treasure. How do you think dead pirates eat?" Jenny paused. "They make a strange sound when they munch. A screeching, like metal on metal." Lapinette's fur stood on end. But Jenny wasn't finished. "We came across an empty dingy with a pair of boots on it. And two socks." The Wabbit was entranced. "But the weirdest things I saw was a van, making it way in the depths. It had exhaust fumes, the lot. They curled round waves like sea sprites." "See any bars down there?" asked the Wabbit. "Wherever there be ghost ships, there be ghost bars," answered Jenny, "And we be going there ..." 

2. The Wabbit and the Street Stall

The market stall was on the street, and it was a tight squeeze to get past. The Wabbit poked various things. But he either had most of them or didn't want them. He noticed Lapinette sidling up at the far end. "Wabbit, you've got most of these things!" The Wabbit pretended not to care. "I haven't got a left- handed aubergine peeler!" he exclaimed. "You don't need one," responded Lapinette, "you're ambidextrous." The Wabbit considered very carefully. "What about a thing for bashing other things." Lapinette jumped up and down. "We have three already." The Wabbit knew the stall had enough stuff to furnish three kitchens. "I'm looking for an unobtainable item," he confessed. Lapinette had been hearing this for years. "There's no such thing," she said. She folded her paws. "Anyway, there's no point looking here, you need to go to the right market." The Wabbit's paw dropped on a kitchen utensil. "No!" shouted Lapinette. He tried again. "No," yelled Lapinette, "we have a drawerful of these already!" The Wabbit smiled. "Which market do you suggest?" "The non existing market," mocked Lapinette. "Oh. the dystopian fantasy market?" replied the Wabbit. "That's highly niche," said Lapinette, "As niche as a dark web market." The Wabbit grabbed on to the stall - for he felt suddenly dizzy. "Or an NFT market." Lapinette looked serious. "I heard they were as dead as yesterday." "No" said the Wabbit, "As sure as I need a prosecco." 

1. The Wabbit and the Unobtainable Item

The Wabbit ambled up the back road to Aurelia. He had no particular plan in mind. Sometimes he would turn and look back, because if he squinted his eyes, he could just see his apartment. If he used his special glasses he could see a lot more. Rather more than he wanted in fact, so he didn't. He was heading for a market in search of an unobtainable item, and he hoped the rain would hold off, because he felt it sullied his fur. "Maybe I should purchase a raincoat?" he mused. He dismissed the thought immediately. "I told my coat a joke, but it just hung there!" He giggled. He had regaled people with that one-liner many times, but no-one ever laughed. All the more reason to repeat it. His search for an unobtainable item was occasionally successful. It was usually a music album which had found its way to a market by accident and he would snap it up without delay. Then there was the strange case of the inwards bent circlip pliers. He'd only had to use it one occasion, but it was worth the money. Once he'd purchased a box labelled 'Peculiar Tools' but he'd never found a use for any of the contents. Lapinette had been trying to get him to throw it out, but he'd refused on the basis that something might come in handy. He thought about Via Urbano II. It was within hopping distance and at the far end there was an old man who sold tools. He'd go there he thought - and he began to hop with menace.  

The Wabbit's Famous Adventure Caffè

The Wabbit and Lapinette waited for Wabsworth and Skratch outside the chocolate shop. They were late and apologetic, having been held up by two young ladies trying to sell books. It happened every time they went to this shopping centre, and they were less than impressed. Wabsworth had an encyclopaedic knowledge of every book ever published. Skratch had a fine library of cinema periodicals dating back to the 1950s. "Skratch!" shouted the Wabbit. "What was that for a sort of adventure we just had?" Skratch gave a mighty hiss. "I found the characters were portrayed as egotistical and untrustworthy." Lapinette laughed. "That's because they were!" Wabsworth shook his head. "I analysed all films in my database. Characters from outer space are generally depicted as creatures who always lie. They are other and not like us." The Wabbit's face was a picture. "Looking at current affairs, I'd say that's an accurate reflection of modern politicians. They say what people want to hear, so that they can be in power." Lapinette nodded. "Yes, I'm afraid that's so." Skratch screeched loudly. "Lucky then, that we have the Department of Wabbit Affairs." He smirked and looked around. "I wouldn't trust the Department to open a bag of crisps," scowled the Wabbit. "And certainly not anything to do with your Dinosaur Fund," said Wabsworth. The Dinosaur Fund was a private account set up by the Wabbit to finance his more unorthodox missions. The Wabbit paled. "I don't think so." Lapinette grinned. "Shall we use some of it to finance today's aperitivi?" Wabsworth looked on with mock dismay. "As long as receipts are duly obtained." 

10. The Wabbit and the Flashy Landing

Quantum landed in Campo de' Fiori which quite surprised onlookers - but they thought it was a new scheme by the Mayor. Some people clapped and others grumped. Diners went about their culinary business, while the Wabbit and Lapinette remained in Quantum's cab. Skratch made a few euro by collecting money, much to Wabsworth's disapproval. "Give everyone a receipt," he said, "It will all have to be accounted for." Lapinette turned to the Wabbit. "What about the prisoners?" The Wabbit flinched. "We have prisoners?" Lapinette waved her paws. "Uberclerk Zzorp and the Reclamoids!" The Wabbit put his head back and laughed. "Put them on at the Circus Maximus, they'll be a hoot." Lapinette felt that the Wabbit's levity was misplaced. "You can't let them run loose on Earth. Who knows what might happen?" Wabsworth chortled from below. "Zzorp might be able to sort out your Dinosaur Account." "Doubt it, no-one can," smiled Lapinette. "I'll take them back on Thursday," laughed the Wabbit. "Today's Thursday," replied Lapinette. "Next Thursday," offered the Wabbit. They were quiet for a few moments. "I suppose we could offer them dinner," said Skratch. "All receipts to be lodged," insisted  Wabsworth. "I'm thirsty," said the Wabbit. Everyone burst out laughing. "I see a waiter bring complimentary drinks for the intergalactic travellers," smiled Wabsworth. The Wabbit was delighted, "Better bring our guests out of the brig and prepare them for a week's stay." Lapinette gave him an old- fashioned look. "I only travel intergalactically on Thursdays," shrugged the Wabbit.