2. The Wabbit and the Double Encounter

Lapinette and the Wabbit hadn't even reached the market when something happened. They felt a little wet, but it reached only part of their bodies. Lapinette was wetter and she shouted. "What's happening?" They looked up. They were Ice Mice vessels all right and one was directing snow straight at them. The Wabbit shook a fist. "You're not supposed to be in this sector. We had an agreement!" There was no reply. Two more vessels hovered, just as silent as the first. "Something's not right," shivered the Wabbit. "Intelligence said they were in another sector entirely."  Lapinette shrugged and tried to move but she was stuck in the snow. A silhouette fell across the Ice Mice vessels, the shadow of a giant bird. The Wabbit decided to speak harshly to Intelligence. But he left it for later. "Speak, creature!" he yelled. Again there was no response. "Use your universal translator," yelled Lapinette. "It's in for an overhaul," replied the Wabbit. Usually it didn't work, and he had given up. There was a roar. "I am tesh-tesh, the fiery one." He crumpled the vessel like an old tin can. "Respect my tendrils!" shouted tesh-tesh. The Wabbit and Lapinette smiled. "Your tendrils are most fine. Are you a gryphon?" The gryphon unfurled its mighty wings. "I am the multi-cultural gryphon of legend. From Ancient Egypt to Dante to modern folklore." The Wabbit smirked innocently. "You're not a dragon then?" The gryphon snarled. "Don't talk to me about dragons. They are most inelegant and quite rude." Lapinette raised a paw. "We're going to a bar. Would you like a drink?" The gryphon had no hesitation. "I'm partial to a glass of Sangue di Giuda."

1. The Wabbit and Lapinette take a Walk

The Wabbit and Lapinette were having a casual walk in a district they hardly knew. They were enjoying their amble as they made their way to a small market in the heart of the neighbourhood, when Lapinette turned and pointed. "Oh look. A demonstration." The Wabbit scrutinised the posters. " I hope you're not thinking of going." Lapinette shrugged. "Of course!" The Wabbit shrugged too. "Sorry to disappoint, but that demonstration was last year." Lapinette looked again. "It doesn't say the year on it." "I saw it my union journal," said the Wabbit. "It's a consumers organisation campaigning for better treatment of workers." Lapinette had a flash of inspiration. "Yes, I remember now. It's called the Clean Clothes Campaign. Clothing workers are being globally exploited." The Wabbit patted his supersonic fur. "Not guilty," he said, "But where was your mini kilt made? By children in Pakistan?" Lapinette folded her paws. "By children in Scotland!" she shouted. The Wabbit started to laugh - and so did Lapinette. Paw in paw they made their way along the road. Lapinette was curious. "What's the local market like?" "Very small, but with nice things made by local people," replied the Wabbit. "Exploitation free?" Lapinette was on her high horse. "Nothing is," murmured the Wabbit. "I think they have an alcohol-free prosecco bar, though." Lapinette was disgusted. "That's like coming to Italy and eating at McDonalds." 

The Wabbit and his Adventure Caffè

The team assembled at a Caffè in Testaccio. Drinks had been ordered but you had to get them yourself. The Wabbit grumbled, but Lapinette said she would do it and returned quickly, because sandwiches had to be heated. She leapt into her seat. Skratch arrived and grunted at the empty table. "This isn't what I'm used to," he groaned. Lapinette was far from pleased. "Now look Skratch. I ordered you a tuna and shrimp sandwich. Don't give me grief." The Wabbit giggled quietly. Wabsworth sniggered. "Tell us Skratch, what sort of Adventure did the Wabbit and Lapinette just have?" Skratch meaowed and meaowed. "It was a slight adventure barely worth analysing." Skratch was having a fit of pique because he hadn't been in an adventure for a while. Lapinette pouted and Skratch took his sentiments back at once. "We must turn to Freud and the pleasure principle." Wabsworth scowled. "Nothing could be more annoying. Lacan said it was like hauling words over hot coals. Skratch's eyes shot up. "Good turn of phrase Wabsworth - and probably true." The Wabbit chortled and muttered about spiders. "Speak up, Wabbit," said Lapinette. "The narrator is compared to a spider in Proust and thus to madness," shouted the Wabbit. He could be very opinionated. Lapinette wanted to change the subject. "Shall we hurry up the drinks?" "We'd be mad not to," replied the Wabbit. The Shaman brushed past with tourists in tow. He turned and pointed. "Listen to them and you could learn something."

6. The Wabbit and the Domitian Empire.

The Wabbit and Lapinette conferred on the best course of action for the Electric Shaman. Lapinette suggested that tour guide was a good enough option for him, but the Wabbit suggested a new location. After due deliberation they decided on Musei Capitolini. The Wabbit said it was the oldest museum in the world. Lapinette wasn't so sure, but the Wabbit argued that he had a card that got him in free. That clinched it. Capitolini it was. The Electric Shaman took it all in and the Wabbit fixed it with the Director - or Zeus as he called him. They came to a door. "What is this exhibition?" asked the Shaman. The Wabbit grinned. "That's Domitian. He was quite the lad, but Conservative in his way." Lapinette pouted. "Didn't he conquer Scotland." The Wabbit scowled. "No-one ever conquered Scotland." The Shaman scribbled something in a voluminous notebook that magically appeared and just as quickly disappeared. Lapinette nudged the Shaman. "The Wabbit is Scottish you know." The Shaman scribbled Alba in his notebook. "Shall we celebrate your appointment in the bar," suggested the Wabbit. The Shaman's electric cloak brightened even more. "It's upstairs," said Lapinette. "I know where it is," said the Wabbit, "and I know how to get there." The Shaman laughed, and said, "So do I. Let's get the lift." 

5. The Wabbit and the Blue Sky Cubes

The Wabbit thought it best to discourage the Electric Shaman from any mischief, because he felt a headache coming on. He chanced the local pharmacy with the Shaman in tow. He could hear a familiar voice yelling "Yeah, yeah yeah!" and looked up. Lapinette was there and she was bouncing up and down. She seemed to be trying to touch the blue cubes and the Wabbit called out to her. Lapinette looked down and gasped, "Oh, hello Wabbit, what are you doing here?" The Wabbit explained about his headache. Lapinette gasped again "They won't give you anything in here unless you touch the sky." The Wabbit shrugged because there was another pharmacy, and it wasn't far. "Isn't that the Electric Shaman?" said Lapinette. The Wabbit nodded. "I'm a tour guide now," said the Shaman. "Then help me out," said Lapinette. "I have to touch three cubes and they'll let me have some vitamins." The Shaman waved his electric arms, grasped three cubes, and brought them to the floor. Lapinette floated down, picked them up and took them to the counter. "You haven't taken a queue ticket," said the shop assistant. She ducked as Lapinette sent the cubes flying past her head - and produced the vitamins that Lapinette wanted. "Lapinette, I remember you," said the Electric Shaman, "I had you in my cloak." "Not for long," replied Lapinette.
 

4. The Wabbit and Arts and Crafts

The Wabbit stepped through a side door in the Metro. He was something of a shaman in his own right, having studied with Don Juan Matus in the Sonora Desert. So he didn't clap his paws or anything so mundane. He merely took the Electric Shaman through a door that breached reality. They emerged in a little-known house somewhere in Rome that once belonged to a group of artists. The Shaman gasped. "These designs, they look like my cloak." The Wabbit smiled. "I knew you'd like it." The Wabbit explained the origins of the house. Once it was very fine, but when a holy order of nuns took it over, it fell upon hard times. Luckily, most of it had been rescued and restored. "This is wonderful," said the Shaman. "I could come here and conjure up medieval knights." The Wabbit cringed. The thought of medieval knights jousting about Rome was worse than gladiators. "Couldn't you conjure up some nice illustrations." The Shaman looked crestfallen. "Where's the fun in that?" The Wabbit had a think. "Look Shaman, there's an awful filling station right in front of this building. It's an eyesore." The Shaman brightened. "Can I set it on fire? Get rid of it?" The Wabbit had one of his ideas. "Round up students, there's plenty in this neighbourhood. Design medieval banners. Block the road. Cause trouble." The Shaman really liked the idea. "What shall we tell the general public?" "Just stop oil," shrugged the Wabbit. 

3. The Wabbit Under the Colosseum

The Wabbit led the way down and the Shaman followed. But when they reached a lower level, he waved his wands. "They're building a Metro under the Colosseum," he laughed. “They’ve not finished it," said the Wabbit, “they've hardly started." The Shaman smiled. There was a flash. Suddenly they were in a Metro. "How do you like it?" The Wabbit groaned. "It looks like Turin. This is the curve from the station." Nevertheless, they both stood and admired the construction. "Up there is my new set of escalators." The Wabbit shrugged. "I guess this is all in your imagination." The Shaman grinned. "No it's quite solid. When the workers dig down, they'll find it's all been done already." The Wabbit shook his head like a donkey. "I don't think you understand industrial relations and the economics of land use." "Oh but I do," said the Shaman. "So I've thrown in a bit of spectacle. Masses of people will come for kilometres just to see this." He waved his wand again. A gladiator appeared and with a rapid slash of his dagger, produced buckets of blood. The Shaman waved once more. The gladiator disappeared. "He'll double as a ticket inspector," he giggled, "with on-the-spot fines." The Wabbit screwed up his eyes under his glasses. "Fines?" "The best bit," said the Shaman, "Death for non-payment." The Wabbit felt it was all too fanciful. "What about the ozone? I can still smell it." They looked around. "I think it's something to do with your gladiator," grimaced the Wabbit. "Oh phooey," replied the Shaman.