The Wabbit at his Adventure Caffè

The Wabbit found the gang at the arcade. They were sitting round speculating whether he'd got lost. "How long have I been away for?" he asked. "Just overnight," said Lapinette. "Seemed like longer," replied the Wabbit. He started to relate his story. No sooner had he begun, when Skratch arrived late as usual. "Carry on," he said, "I picked up most of it." The Wabbit smiled. "Yesterday evening I was walking near here, when I touched an object and it took me on a trip." Everyone wanted to know what kind of trip it was, and the Wabbit explained the ins and outs of the entire journey. "I'm left with this key," said the Wabbit. "So it's not the end of the journey," suggested Skratch. The Wabbit was hardly impressed. He knew that already. "But what kind of a journey was it?" He effected a gentle tone of enquiry. Skratch paused for maximum affect. "The story does appear to be a descriptive open discourse - but one which requires no particular closure." Wabsworth butted in. "I think it merely tells of the personality of the Wabbit in a non-linear way." Lapinette grunted and gave a grudging smile. "I think the Wabbit was more in the realm of the documentary there." The Wabbit leaned back. "That's all very well, but what is this key for?" Lapinette studied it. "It looks like a smaller version of an old key. One that was in a previous story." Skratch laughed, "What did you do then Wabbit?" The Wabbit grinned. "I tried putting it in every lock I could find." Lapinette grinned mysteriously and winked. "Better start then ..."

7. The Wabbit and the Rest of the Way

The Wabbit was falling and there wasn't far to fall. He felt the crump as he landed. It was on the Quay in a place he knew well. He sat there for a while, hardly daring to move in case he couldn't. He was clutching something. It was a familiar object. Metal. Cylindrical. Now what in the world was he doing here clutching some kind of a doohickey? He tried to remember, but it wasn't easy. Gradually it swam back. He'd been on a walk when he chased something that proved elusive. There was a kind of shock that propelled him through several zones. All of these zones were familiar to him - but they weren't quite right. He picked himself off the ground and sat on the steps to look at the object. It was a key. "So you're the cause of all this fuss," he muttered. He banged it on the ground. Whack. It made the normal kind of ding a metal object should make. He scratched the rust away and it shone as it should. "You don't seem very dangerous now," sighed the Wabbit. He rubbed it on his fur and felt a strange tingling. That made him suspicious. "The lab for you my boy until we find you're pucka." He tucked it away safely and looked around. Everything was normal. The river lapped at the edge of the breakwater. People were out for walks and he heard them make their merry way. He rose to his feet and brushed imaginary dust from his fur. "Maybe I'm on my way to an Adventure Caffè," he said to himself. "Maybe Skratch the Cat will know what all this is about." So with a wry smile, he set off to the nearest establishment, which wasn't too far ...

6. The Wabbit in the Field of Gold

"Now you're talking!" said the Wabbit. The stark stairway had been replaced by a field of gold. And he could move, that was nice. He tried everything - starting with the tips of hs toes. Then the rest of his feet joined in. Soon everything was twitching, and he felt as happy as he'd ever felt. The sun was out. The marigolds were in bloom. Rolling countryside did what it did best - it rolled. The Wabbit ambled through the field, humming a merry tune. There was something not quite right about it, but the Wabbit decided to tolerate it for the time being. He ambled to the right, then ambled to the left. He ambled back and forward. Then he realised what it was. He wasn't getting anywhere. He could only amble. And the scene, admirable though it was, would not change. "I'm stuck in a loop," he murmured. He considered the matter and decided that no matter how nice it was, it should stop. "Stop the loop!" he shouted in the most commanding tone he could summon. But the loop continued to loop. "This is awfully nice, but please change!" The Wabbit's voice suggested he was at the end of his tether. "I've had enough, and I want to go back to ordinary non-Kafka adventures." A breeze sprung up. "Maybe this is it" thought the Wabbit, "Maybe everything will go back to normal." But the breeze got stronger. The marigolds began to lose their leaves and they flew in the air. Fields rolled past rather more than they should. "Here we go again," thought the Wabbit.

5. The Wabbit in the Plastic Realm

Everything ceased from tumbling. The Wabbit was on steps that at last he knew. Or so he thought. It was quiet. Too quiet. There was no sound at all. He tried scuffing his feet on the steps, but nothing happened. He looked down at his arms. "I'm shrink wrapped," he said. His mouth formed the words, but no words came. He tried to move, but couldn't. The steps appeared to be at the Medieval Castle, but there was no-one around and it was a strange colour that defied description. "Help!" he yelled. Since the Wabbit couldn't get any words out, no-one came to his rescue. "Maybe I'm stuck in time," he moaned to himself. "Yes you are," said a voice. The Wabbit definitely heard a voice.  "You're stuck," said the voice. "Stuck in what?" said the Wabbit. "You're stuck in the Plastic Realm." The responding voice had neither body nor substance. "Why am I here?" asked the Wabbit. He saw no need to move his mouth because nothing physical happened. "What is your number?" said the voice. "I do not have a number," said the Wabbit. "WHAT is your number?" asked the voice again. This time it was insistent. The Wabbit had a think. "If I'm supposed to have number, I'd better give whoever it is a number, and that's an end to it." The voice was waiting. The Wabbit thought very hard since no voice came out and it was disconcerting. "I am Number One." "Wrong number," said the voice. The Wabbit lost his temper. "I am not a number. I am a free rabbit." Everything started to tumble to and fro like a washing machine. "I'm getting tired of this," shrieked the Wabbit. To his surprise he had his voice back and it was very loud indeed. "LET ME OUT !" he yelled ...

4. The Wabbit's Market Under the Stars

When the Wabbit looked down he could see a normal market with normal clothes. But when he looked up all he could see were stars. They weren't even normal stars. These stars were in the process of forming and far, far away from here. "But where's here," said the Wabbit to himself. No-one answered. The Wabbit hadn't the foggiest notion of where he was. It was all to do with the whoosh, of that he knew. But it wasn't much to go on when you were a normal rabbit with normal ears. "Maybe I'm not so normal," he said to himself. he grimaced. He'd had quite enough of being abnormal for one evening. He looked all round and had a think. "Maybe I could find something useful in this market." He looked down at the jacket and shook his head. "That doesn't look so terribly useful to me." Even if he had desperately wanted it, there was no one around to buy it from. He had a think. Where was there a market he never wanted anything from? The answer came in a flash. It was Crocetta Market and Crocetta Market was always filled with women's clothes. And the moment that flash occurred everything started to spiral again. "Here we go again," thought the Wabbit. Every stall in the street upended and shook itself out. There were dresses, bags, gloves, hats and tights and they all became gushing rivers that flowed down several streets in the direction of the Po River. The Wabbit hung onto his stand as it ripped away from its moorings. A wall was looming up and all he could do was stare as the wall began to change .. 

[Sky picture credit: NASA]

3. The Wabbit and the Liquid City

It wasn't so much of a bang as a woosh. The Wabbit wasn't used to wooshes, although he'd set off plenty of Kabooms in the past. The woosh took him by surprise. Everything was sparkly and the world seemed to get smaller, but it was just the speed. One minute he grasped the object and the next he was spiralling through the air. His fingers tingled where he'd touched it and now he wished he hadn't. Hindsight was 40-40. It was going to be quite hard when he landed, he thought. But there was no sign of landing. He was stuck in a rapidly diminishing landscape that zoomed into the distance but when he looked down, he'd hardly travelled any distance at all. Noises seemed hollow. He twitched his nose. He could still smell the pizza places but it was at a distance. Of the place where he'd found the object, there was little but a blur. The rest of the city shimmered and glowed. He somersaulted in a lazy loop, and he could see the city change position. But with a violent shudder all of that changed. Everything disappeared into a pin prick then swirled as he was propelled somewhere - anywhere but where he wanted to be. The scene gradually stabilised. He was looking at a wall. Then the wall turned liquid and dripped onto a street. The street became a rushing river that gushed torrents of cars, street furniture and tables and chairs along with it. Then it stopped moving and stabilised again. The Wabbit looked all around because he was in a part of the city he'd never visited. Everything was still. The Wabbit dusted himself off. "Now that was a long strange trip," he murmured ...

2. The Wabbit and the Found Object

The Wabbit didn't know if you could pursue a happening but he thought he'd try. He quickened his pace and before long he was round about the place where it all occurred. He looked all about but he could see nothing. What was it? Where was it? All he could see were pizza places. The Wabbit liked pizza but not in Turin. You had to go south for a decent pizza and that was where the Wabbit ate them. Pizzas in Turin were door stops and he'd given up on them. He ignored the smell and hopped a bit further until the street gave way to street furniture. Suddenly it looked like the place where a happening might take place. "It's got to be round here," mused the Wabbit. He noticed the tub immediately. It had a bush growing in it, but it looked far too big for its contents. The Wabbit approached with caution because he'd been taken by surprise before. Then he put his paw in the tub and rummaged around. He felt something solid amongst the earth, but he knew it would be difficult to take it out. It was a small object that didn't quite belong amongst the street furniture. So, he poked and prodded. Nothing happened.  He put his paw right around it and pulled. Nothing happened. "That's funny," mused the Wabbit, "It should move." But the object refused to budge. It seemed to grip the inside of the tub as if it was attached, but it was not attached. "I can get this thing out," murmured the Wabbit. He pulled harder. All of a sudden, whatever was holding it gave way and the Wabbit shot backward across the street. "My Goodness," said the Wabbit. ...