The Wabbit and his Adventure Caffè

The team wandered through Testaccio Market in search of a Caffè. Lapinette was overjoyed and jumped in the air as she liked to do. "Here we are in Testaccio!" she exclaimed, "I must go and look at ladies' clothes." The Wabbit grinned. "We've got to to go to a Caffè first," he said. "I think ladies' clothes can wait." Wabsworth brought up the rear. "Did you get that delightful tartan frock here?" Lapinette shook her head. "No that was up in Via di San Silverio," Skratch looked dubious. "When are renovations finished?" "In the Year of the Ass," shrugged the Wabbit. "Not like good old Testaccio!" grumbled Wabsworth. "I liked the old Testaccio market," meaowed Skratch. The Wabbit shook his head. "Do you want to ask the question, Skratch? Or Lapinette will never get to that shop." Wabsworth asked it. "What was that for a sort of Adventure you just had?" Skratch let out a terrific meaow that made everyone jump. "It was a kind of folk tale and as such didn't have to make much sense." Lapinette jumped even higher. "That's right, it wasn't genre as such. The transpositions in location served to challenge our overall awareness of time and space." Wabsworth chuckled. "Castaneda would have agreed. You assembled in other worlds." Skratch purred. "Jumping off the roof. Now that was a tour de force." Then Lapinette laughed. "We kept our awareness too." The Wabbit doubled up. "We were kindled with knowledge. And so we knew the quickest way to the bar!" Wabsworth chuckled too. "Let's burn from within. I'll have an Aperol spritz."

[Year of the Ass: Said to be an old Chinese Joke. There is no year of the Ass]

5. The Wabbit and the Rooftop Nature

Lapinette and the Wabbit found themselves scrabbling on the edge of the rooftops. They were staring at the Buddha from the Box Camera. Lapinette had the Box Camera with her, but she couldn't recall picking it up. The Wabbit scowled and clambered onto the roof. "What gives?" he said. "The Roof is on the Rabbits," said the Buddha. "If you like," responded the Wabbit, "but why are we here?" The Buddha shimmered. "It's in the nature of things." The Wabbit thought he preferred the Buddha when he was in the box. But he was respectful. "Why are you here?" he asked. The Buddha replied. "That is the Buddha Nature." The Wabbit felt like the most junior of monks. Lapinette chimed in. "Where do you feel most comfortable?" The Buddhist replied. "I am outside the Box Camera." Lapinette considered. "Where is the Box Camera most comfortable?" The Wabbit decided not to get involved. "Outside me," said the Buddha. The Wabbit was confused but wouldn't say so. "Where does that leave us?" he said. "Back where we started?" replied Lapinette. The Buddha blinked and vanished. A muffled sound came from inside the inside the Box Camera. The Wabbit was baffled. "What do we do now?" Lapinette answered quickly. "We wait for a satori moment." The Wabbit shrugged. "Could be a while." Lapinette smiled. "Let's jump!" The Wabbit looked down. It was a long way, but he grabbed her paw and they both jumped off the roof. For a second, they were surrounded by a clear green light. Then they were in the museum - and both box and Buddha had gone. "Was that a satori moment?" asked Lapinette. The Wabbit shook his head and shrugged. "No," he replied, "It was a Carlos Castaneda moment." 

The Wabbit and the Hallowe'en Horsemen

The team hadn't forgotten about the annual Hallowe'en Party. By special arrangement they'd obtained permission to hold it - near midnight - at the Royal Palace. They wandered through the armoury. "This looks like a good place," said the Wabbit. "Neigh," whinnied a horse.  "Did you hear a horse neigh?" asked Lapinette. "Neigh," whinnied another horse. They looked to right and left. They heard the clatter of ghostly hooves. Two horses carrying two armoured soldiers were suddenly upon them. Blood spattered from their nostrils every time they snorted. The Wabbit wiped blood from his forehead. "This makes a change." he shrugged, "It's usually the Bunnyman." The mounted soldiers gave hollow laughs - hollower than fallen echoes across an abyss. They snickered as one. "Ha ha ha ha hah! We are the horsed guard of the Bunnymen, come to torment you at Hallowe'en." Skratch half sneered, half grimaced. "The Bunnyman always has an axe." Lapinette concurred. "Yes, devilish ones. Show us your axe." A ghostly axe materialised from thin air, sharper than the ravens cry. It chopped once and gore sprayed across Wabsworth. It chopped again and splattered Skratch in the eye. Skratch got annoyed. "Who are you to advance on us with vague similes?" The horses reared. Wabsworth and Skratch cowered in fright. The Wabbit grinned and pressed a hidden switch in his fur. "How do like my full scale models?" It was nearly midnight. The riders and their steeds failed to stop. One horse gave the Wabbit's ears a vicious bite. "Yikes!" yelled the Wabbit. Lapinette, Wabsworth and Skratch all laughed and laughed. "How do you like ours?"

4. The Wabbit and Lapinette's Assistance

Lapinette was helping the museum with an ancient mosaic when the Wabbit hopped in. "Mind where you tread, Wabbit!" she yelled. "This is very old." The Wabbit wrinkled his nose. "So is this." He held up the box camera which continued to smoke. Lapinette put down a piece of mosaic and looked up. Behind the Wabbit was a strange shape. "There!" said Lapinette. "There, where?" responded the Wabbit. He looked straight at Lapinette. "At your back," she groaned. The Wabbit half turned. The vapours had turned into a genie of sorts. Or so the Wabbit figured. "A genie. It looks like the Buddha." The figure grinned. A quavering voice began. "I can take many forms." Lapinette stood now, with paws on hips. "He's not the Buddha." The mist shivered and the figure became more solid. "Only the cats know," he uttered. The Wabbit shrugged. "I should have brought Skratch. He knows all sorts." Lapinette brushed fragments of mosaic from her knees. "What if I sweep the dust and see the Buddha?" The Wabbit caught on. "The Buddha has no country. Where can you see him?" Lapinette was quick. "The Wabbit is one hundred steps ahead of me." The Wabbit shrugged again. "Then I must brandish my sword." The shape cleared and its voice shook the museum. "No need Wabbit, I'm rumbled." Lapinette sat down. "Maybe he is the Buddha." The Wabbit turned around so he could see him. "Why were you inside a camera?" The figure smiled. "Who put me there?" Lapinette smiled too. "Perhaps he didn't answer a koan." The Buddha shook his head. "Maybe he did answer it." 

[Loosely adapted from Kassan brandishes the sword.]  

3. The Wabbit and the Camera in the Box

After the blast there was only one thing left in the box. It wasn't Hope as Skratch had suggested, but a box camera labelled Kodak 120. The Wabbit tried to open it but couldn't. "It has to open," he thought, " otherwise they wouldn't get the film inside." After much twisting and pulling he decided to take it to the photo museum where he thought they know something about the camera and where it came from. He was entirely wrong. The staff were clueless about the camera, other than the model - it was a Kodak Portrait Brownie 120. They insisted they only knew about pictures it might have taken and suggested he look at the exhibition for ideas. The Wabbit shrugged. But since he was there, he decided to examine the exhibits. It was mostly about Ketty la Rocca, who was an avant garde photographer. He decided her work was more in Skratch's line of expertise. He sniffed. There was something in the air. He looked down. A puff of vapour came from the camera lens. Then another. Soon a steady stream of vapor jetted from the camera. It was also getting hot. The Wabbit tried to put it down, but his paws were stuck fast. "I'd better get this out of here," he thought. He dashed from the museum and took off down the road at some speed. Then he heard a voice from inside the camera. "Let me out at once!" The Wabbit couldn't oblige. "I'm afraid it's stuck," he said," so I can't open the camera." The voice spoke again. "Take it to someone who can." The Wabbit thought hard. When he had difficulty, he usually took things to Lapinette. He broke into a run. "On my way," he breathed.

2. The Wabbit and Skratch in the Blast

They hauled the box home so that they could examine it at leisure. Despite Skratch's reassurance that the box was empty, they found otherwise. The Wabbit spied lamps of various - all of them from China - and a few electric fittings. "What say you now, Skratch?" "I thought the box was rattling a bit. They don't weigh much, those things," said Skratch. The Wabbit had a funny feeling they shouldn't have taken the box for granted. He reached inside and grabbed a lamp. "Perfectly normal lamp, nothing strange," said Skratch. But he had a crawly feeling in his tummy that all wasn't right. "Best be a little careful with that one," he said. He pointed at the socket fitting. "It looks OK," said the Wabbit, "I really could use one of these in the shed." He seized it rather roughly. Skratch became aware of a familiar smell. "Do you smell burning?" he purred. The Wabbit hesitated and let go of the socket. "Do you mean like a light fitting when the plastic deteriorates?" Skratch nodded. They both began to retreat as they heard sizzling and buzzing. "I think it's best to put some distance between us and the box." The Wabbit recalled the time when he'd mixed filler the wrong way round. It got so hot he'd thrown it over a wall and cowered in terror from the blast. The Wabbit screwed up his nose and shrugged. But they were too late. The fitting exploded in a shower of acrid black particles. They coughed and spluttered and wheezed and ran. They were both covered in black and smelled to high heaven. "How do we explain this to Lapinette?" murmured the Wabbit.

1. The Wabbit and the Quiet Street

The Wabbit and Skratch the Cat were taking a small vacation in Dublin, just to see old haunts. They ambled along Raglan Road. The Wabbit hummed the tune and Skratch meaowed along. But when the Wabbit got to the end of the first verse, "Let grief be a fallen leaf at the dawning of the day," Skratch exclaimed, "Too melancholy Wabbit. Do you know anything brighter?" The Wabbit laughed and warbled. "There's whiskey in the jar!" He did a jig and they both kicked leaves as they rounded the corner. "What's this?" exclaimed the Wabbit. They could hardly ignore the box. The Wabbit examined it. "It's from China." Skratch snickered. "Everything is!" They looked it up and down. "What shall we do? We can't just leave it here." Skratch had been a cat burglar in his time, so he smiled. "Technically, it's thrown away, so it belongs to the finder." The Wabbit wasn't so sure. "Maybe it fell off the back of a lorry." "Same thing," murmured Skratch. The Wabbit poked the top. "Might be an explosive device." Skratch kicked it for a few metres. Packing materials fell out. Nothing else. "Nope," he purred. "No device. But as it happens, I could use a box." He plucked it from the ground with a paw. They made their way to Pembroke Road. "Quick one at Searsons?" asked Skratch. "Drop of the Cratur," replied the Wabbit. He thought about their schedule. All the details had been left to Skratch. "How are we getting home?" Skratch meaowed. "Susan the Biplane from Newcastle Aerodrome, 4pm." "Time for two drops then," laughed the Wabbit. "And a slap-up lunch," purred Skratch.

[Raglan Road. Songwriters: Sean Taylor/Patrick Kavanagh. Lyrics © Straitjacket Songs Ltd., Sgo Music Publishing Ltd.]