2. The Wabbit and the Fiery Bus

The Wabbit and Lapinette decided the bus home was the best option and they saw one coming. So they hopped quickly as it rounded the corner into the plaza. "We might just make it!" shouted the Wabbit. He waved to the driver. "Wait!" yelled Lapinette. The Wabbit stopped in his tracks. The bus burst into flames that engulfed the whole vehicle and licked at nearby buildings. "How did you know?" yelled the Wabbit. "I know everything," shrugged Lapinette. They ran to the bus to help but couldn't get close. The heat was intense and the noise deafening. Black carbon showered from the bus and coated the road in a slick, tarry substance. The Wabbit held up a paw. "It's not finished." The bus shimmered and warped. Then it made the groaning noise of tortured metal, disappeared and reappeared in an instant. The flames vanished. The bus bent back into shape. The heat dissipated and the bus engine burst into life. Passengers sat as if nothing had happened. The bus drew away to turn the corner and they watched it go. "You don't see that every day," murmured the Wabbit. "What's going on?" said Lapinette. "Public service cuts?" suggested the Wabbit. Lapinette nudged his leg. "Something's happening in this city." "And you don't know what it is?" grinned the Wabbit. Lapinette's smile was confident. "I will do..."

1. The Wabbit and the Imitation of Art

The Wabbit and Lapinette hopped a leisurely pace along the big bridge across the railway. The bridge usually displayed posters of the latest animation movies and they stopped and had a laugh. "Are we incredible?" asked Lapinette. The Wabbit shook his head. "I think we're marvellous." Lapinette giggled. "Not awesome?" They stared at the poster for Incredibles 2 for some time. "I'm told we rock," said the Wabbit suddenly. Lapinette's ears swayed. "Well, that we do." "Is that a raccoon?" asked the Wabbit. "Its name is Rocket, I think," murmured Lapinette. "We should have one," said the Wabbit. "It's not a dog," laughed Lapinette. The Wabbit's ears swivelled at a sudden drone but on the bridge there was always heavy traffic. It could come in fits and starts, fading to nothing then surging into frantic life - so the Wabbit folded his ears back into place and re-examined the poster. "Maybe we should reassess out superhero status." Lapinette wrinkled her nose. "Everyone's a hero these days." "OK, " said the Wabbit, "so what's one level up from hero?" "Idol," said Lapinette. "I prefer star," shrugged the Wabbit. A searing bolt of light flashed between the Wabbit's ears and slit the sidewalk in a shower of sparks. Lapinette hopped into the air. and yelled, "What does an idol do at this juncture?" "This doesn't happen to idols!" groaned the Wabbit. They tried to blend into the poster, as a green space ship passed overhead and disappeared. "Unbelievable," hissed the Wabbit ...

The Wabbit at his Adventure Caffè

Wabsworth and Major Spitlove the double agent were last to arrive at the Adventure Caffè. "The staff is on vacation," said the Wabbit. "We have to serve ourselves," added Lapinette. Skratch rubbed his paws in glee and made for the kitchen - but the Wabbit called him back. "Not so fast, Skratch!" Lapinette shouted. "What was that for a sort of adventure we just had" Skratch purred politely. "Prolonged instantiation." He vanished into the kitchen and returned smiling. "There's enough food in the kitchen to serve an army." "What about our adventure," sighed Lapinette. Skratch nodded. "Instances of general concepts which we exemplified." Wabsworth chipped in. "Meaning can only be derived through continual instantiation." "Aha!" chortled Lapinette, "therein lies the experience of the constitution of identity." Major Spitlove laughed. "Which in my case is difficult." The Wabbit rapped on the table. "Our Hallowe'en adventure foregrounded psychological projections. It was the shadow of the shadow - forever dancing to and fro." "But what about the Bunnyman? said Wabsworth suddenly. "There was no Bunnyman," shrugged Lapinette. "I saw him, he was watching us," said Wabsworth. "Looking for ideas, I guess," smiled the Wabbit. From under the table a sudden crash rattled the crockery. A louder crash made the Wabbit's teeth chatter. A third detached a piece of fruit from the bowl. It rolled and dropped into the Wabbit's lap and he leaped in the air. He looked around. Everyone shook their head. The Wabbit's eyes were everywhere but saw nothing. He shrugged. "See you next year, Bunnyman."

["Instantiation of meaning is always in the experience through which individuals constitute their identity."  Mihai Nadin]

6. Skratch and the Hallowe'en Turnaround

The Bunnyman got up, dusted himself off and hopped up to Skratch. It was Major Spitlove the double agent. He looked nervous but Skratch chortled. "Do you think they bought it?" Spitlove shrugged and looked up at their gang on the bridge. "Looks like it." He lifted the pumpkin head. "My robotic friend Jack sent me a live video feed for the whole affair." "Can I have a copy?" snickered Skratch. Some way off on the bridge - and out of earshot  - the Wabbit smiled and nudged Wabsworth. "Do you think they fell for it?" "Looks like it," giggled Wabsworth. He nodded vigorously. "That radio axe was a great idea." The Wabbit relaxed. "We can have our party now." They made their way down the clangy iron stairs. Skratch was still smiling. He gave Spitlove a hug. "Now our trick is over it's time for our party." Lapinette called down from the bridge and her voice was frantic. "Look out! Look out for the Hand!" The Wabbit merely grinned. "What trickery is this?! An axe struck the pumpkin squarely above the eyes. It squeaked and bled viciously. "Aaaagh!" shouted Spitlove. He dropped the pumpkin and kicked it. It flew in the air. The Wabbit dived forward to catch it, but squashed it flat. "Yuk, it's all over my fur," groaned the Wabbit. "The Wabbit fell for it!" laughed Lapinette. Jenny rocked back on her boots and tilted her pirate hat. "That be a hat trick."

5. Skratch and the Shooting at Pluto Park

Skratch was fast but the Bunnyman was faster. Skratch arrived at the Hallowe'en venue with his pursuer right behind him. The Bunnyman stood at the top of the stairs, swinging his axe from side to side as he recited a list of his 500 victims. Skratch prepared for combat but the list was so long, he began to feel numbed. The Bunnyman lurched down the stairway and with each step he let his axe drop on the metal treads. Hideous clangs rang out across Pluto Park. Peering out the corner of one eye, Skratch saw vague movement on the bridge. He hoped it was the Wabbit, so he stayed silent and tried to distract the Bunnyman. He yelled out. "That's a load of piffle! The Bunnyman is all discredited now." Sparks flew as the Bunnyman's axe hit the rails. "I'll chop off your cat head and stick it on a spike!" A silence followed. Someone shouted from the shadows. "Drop the weapon and put your paws on the rail." "More victims," snickered the Bunnyman. He lifted the axe and threw it. Skratch leaped out the way. A shot rang out, followed by another. The axe shaft splintered. The Bunnyman looked at his chest, then sagged and keeled over. With one leg caught in the stairs, he was trapped. His breath was shallow now. "I'll be back," he muttered. It was his last gasp as he slumped and lay prone. Skratch shouted to the Wabbit, "Please tell me this is a prank." The Wabbit blew smoke from the barrel of his automatic. Moonlight glinted from his 28 teeth. "Just a lark in the park."

4. Skratch and the Graffiti Warning.

Unaware of the search for the severed head, Skratch arrived to scout the usual Hallowe'en location. This year he had a Bunnyman surprise up his sleeve and he wanted to set the scene. Dusk fell on Pluto Park. The sky darkened as he made his way along the wall that skirted the old abandoned power station. The graffito lady looked startled as she always did - but tonight she seemed more startled than usual. He thought he heard a noise behind him and he turned. There was nothing - just a wolf moon making its way across the evening sky. "Skratch beware!" said a voice.  Skratch looked the mural up and down. "Beware what?" he murmured. "Beware the Bunnyman." It was a whisper, barely audible, and it oozed from bricks and mortar to rustle the dark grass behind him. Skratch turned again. Nothing. His fur shivered. "The Bunnyman is an urban myth," he said to himself. "Legend," said the wall. Skratch shrugged but his shrug was dutiful. The wall spoke again. "By the crumbling of my bricks and mortar, the Bunnyman aims to make you shorter." Now Skratch's ears made out the steady march of footsteps. In the moonlight he glimpsed a flicker of a shadow shape drawing closer. He relaxed his muscles, then tensed. Just when the shape poised over his head, he sprang in the air. An axe sliced the wall where his head had been. Shards of mortar showered the grass. Skratch leaped atop the wall and raced along it like the fastest cheetah there ever was. "I wasn't planning on a run," puffed Skratch.

3. The Wabbit and the Ghost Sleuth

The search for the severed head began in earnest. Duetta's red spiders crawled the towers, while Lapinette climbed onto a ledge and eagle-eyed the area. The Wabbit thought of the words of a favourite detective. “It is the brain, the little gray cells on which one must rely," he said to himself. He settled back and had a think. He shut his eyes. "One must seek the truth within, not without," said a ghostly voice. "Quite right," thought the Wabbit. An unearthly shove woke him up. "Ghost Bunny!" he yelled. "Sleuth Bunny's my name!" said Ghost Bunny. The Wabbit adopted a spooky voice. "Haunting's your game?" Ghost Bunny fluttered and swooped. "I'm here to paranormally assist." The Wabbit pointed to the giant pumpkin. The pumpkin was wary of the spiders and had camouflaged itself against graffiti. It stared down from a balcony. He made a face at the pumpkin. The pumpkin made a face back. "Can you get rid of that pesky pumpkin?" groaned the Wabbit. "I'm a ghost, not a bouncer," shrieked Ghost Bunny. Without warning, she shot in the air and fluttered down. "I'm concentrating. I'm picking up vibrations." She let out a terrifying yell. "I see an axe. He did it with an axe." "Who did?" asked the Wabbit. "The Bunnyman!" screamed Ghost Bunny, "I can see the axe rising and falling." "Can you see the victim's head?" asked the Wabbit. "I can see something rolling into the distance," screeched Ghost Bunny. The Wabbit waited. "I hear it shouting," moaned Ghost Bunny, "shouting its head off."
[The reference to grey cells is made by Hercule Poirot in Agatha Christie's "Death on the Nile" (1937).]