6. The Wabbit and the Terrifying Terror

Further up the tunnel there was light and for a second Wabsworth was relived. Then he heard a commotion and was on him. A ferocious creature grabbed him from behind and howled. "Waaaabsworth, Waaaabsworth!" It knew his name, he didn't know how. He struggled but couldn't free himself. The creatures claws sank into his fur. Blood foamed from its mouth and slathered onto his neck. He activated his defences again. The creature felt the shock and let go but it was infuriated and roared the louder. Wabsworth heard another sound. He feared more zombies and ripped his arm away from the creature. But a blood curdling cry from above could only be the Wabbit. He heard a violent struggle and risked a glance upwards. The Wabbit had swung down from a piece of ironwork and wrapped himself round the creature's neck. He had an automatic. For a second Wabsworth shook his head, but he remembered a line from a film he'd seen. Kill the brain and you kill the ghoul. It was like instant communication. The Wabbit heard it and mouthed it. He pushed his automatic into the creature's mouth and fired upwards. Its spurting blood was a curious shade of purple. The bullet had pierced the brain. The creature slumped and lay on the tunnel floor. The Wabbit dropped. "Wabsworth. How's yer belly off for spots?" he murmured. "Spot on," quipped Wabsworth. With a chortle the Wabbit kicked the dead creature. "I've seen that in the movies," said Wabsworth. "So have I," murmured the Wabbit.

5. Wabsworth in the Deep Catacombs

Deep in the catacombs and safe for the moment, Wabsworth saw a line of statues. Judging by the state of their composition, they had been outside for a long time then brought inside. "What's your name my son?" The voice boomed and echoed through the tunnels. "My name is Wabsworth," said Wabsworth. He thought it best to be formal. "I am an android in the service of the Department of Wabbit Affairs." The speaker leaned forward. "I am a representation of an apostle in the service of the Lord. How may I help you?" Wabsworth ran the statue's image through his vast information banks but found only archaeology. "I have a bit of Zombie trouble," he said. The statue nodded sagely. "Poor creatures, they are caught in a state of undeadness and must wander the earth for all of time." Wabsworth was faintly irritated. He shrugged. "They're wandering too far. I haven't got all of time. I must join with my team and rid the earth of zombies." The statue grimaced. "I can hear them coming. They will be here soon." Wabsworth could hear the flapping of a dragon's wings and faint moans in the distance. He knew that theology wasn't going to help him. Again the statue spoke. "I will delay them. You be on your way." The statues began to crumble and one by one they fell across the passageway. Wabsworth started to run .. 

4. Wabsworth and the Zombie Dragon

Wabsworth was enjoying a day off at the Colosseum when all hell broke loose. He'd been enjoying going around and subjecting any tourist he met to his encyclopedic knowledge of the Roman Empire. But when a dragon dropped from the sky and picked him up, he thought that was a bit too much. He pulled out his radio and tried to get in touch with the Wabbit. It flew from his paw, squawking with the Wabbit's tones. "Urgent, urgent! Beware! Zombies of all kinds descending on Rome! This is not a drill! I repeat. This is not a drill." Wabsworth turned on his anti dragon software and shook. Electricity surged from his fur. The dragon released his grip and Wabsworth dropped to the ground where two zombies awaited. They looked mean. They growled. Decaying flesh dripped from their faces. "They look like they're from a music video." Wabsworth spun on his heels and made for the nearest tunnel. Tourists abounded but none paid any attention. "All part of the show?" murmured Wabsworth. He sounded just like the Wabbit. The dragon wheeled in the sky and dived at him. Wabsworth recovered his radio, ducked into the tunnel and disappeared. The dragon was wedged in the entrance. Wings flapped in a frantic dance. Scales dropped like autumn leaves. It breathed fire and the stench was grim as sour vomit. "That way to the vomitorium," quipped Wabsworth.

3. Lapinette and the Hungry Zombies

Lapinette was in Testaccio Market when she heard them coming. It was a kind of shuffle. A little bit distinctive, a little bit zombie. She flattened herself against a trader's stall, but it was no good. They advanced round the corner and saw her immediately. She got her radio out and it started to crackle with the Wabbit's voice. The signal was intermittent. "Beware ..  crackle .. zombies .. crackle .. shopping," It was too squawky. She switched it off because she already knew that. The first zombie was shorter or maybe he was just stooped. He bent down even further. "Brains," he said, "Need brains." The taller one echoed him. "Juicy brains, more juicy, squashy brains." Saliva drooled from what was left of his lips. Lapinette was already pointing. "Straight along there. You can't miss the butcher. He has plenty of succulent juicy brains." She thought fast. "Do you like wild boar salami?" The two shuffled past. "Need human brains," they moaned. As they rounded the corner, Lapinette got back on the radio. "Wabbit, what's this zombie thing?" The radio crackled. "I've got my own zombies here. Terrible dress sense." Lapinette gritted her teeth. "What do your zombies eat?" The radio crackled again. "Each other." Lapinette felt nauseous. The radio whined a bit. "Can you interest them in aperitivi?" asked the Wabbit. 

2. The Wabbit and the Automatic Zombies

The Wabbit went to the shed the next day to check it out. He'd established that there was nothing untoward and moved further down the street when he heard scuffling behind him. He turned and there they were. Zombies. "I knew it!" he murmured. There was a badly dressed one, another who he could only describe as medium - and a young woman who he knew Lapinette would describe as tarty. They stood stock still. Then one moved its arms as if it was a signal for them all to move. Then they waved in ghastly synchrony. The Wabbit couldn't help moving back. It was then that something touched his ears. "Yeuch!" he yelled and brushed whatever it was away. He squinted upwards. It was a hideous skeletal figure with protruding bones. "Get off," he shouted. It was a hand that belonged to an arm that swayed for an instant before falling to the street. The Wabbit stepped back again. The zombies stepped forward. He stepped toward them. They stepped back. The Wabbit started thinking. They looked like they'd escaped from a film. Especially the one in the awful shirt. "How do you boo!" greeted the Wabbit. "Shopping, must do shopping!" they replied. The Wabbit pointed further down the street. "Furniture, kitchen and fittings," he said. He glanced at the roughly dressed one. "Men's outfitters and bags in great quantity." "Bags, get bags," said the Zombies. The skeletal figure replaced his arm and they stumbled past the Wabbit in the general direction of IKEA. "It's not even Black Friday," murmured the Wabbit. 

1. The Wabbit and Shaun of the Shed

The Wabbit rounded the shed-like structure on the street. It was never open and the Wabbit wondered why it was there. The lettering was beginning to fade, and it had seen better days. The Wabbit puffed out his cheeks. "Shaun of the Shed," he thought. He laughed at his own joke, even though it wasn't great. A delivery bike driver behind him giggled. "At least someone thinks I'm funny," murmured the Wabbit. But the cyclist was laughing at something further down the street. The Wabbit shrugged to conceal his disappointment. He was waiting on a message about a mission. No mission in the offing made the Wabbit sightly nervous. "I'm on more of an intermission," he quipped. He disliked waiting. The evening sun made long shadows on the road. "Time for an aperitivo," he mused. A new caffè had opened further along the road. He had yet to try it. He started to hop that way but glanced back at the shed. "I hope it's not full of zombies." He looked again. "When there's no more room in Hell, the dead will seek out sheds." He moved closer. "Dead in a shed!" Then he began to laugh. "Out of your head in a shed!" Passersby turned to look. Some joined in, calling for zombies to emerge. The Wabbit saw movement and shouted. "I like my zombies slow and stupid." The door swung open ...  

The Wabbit at his famous Adventure Caffè

The Wabbit ordered the team to assemble at the Caffè in Testaccio Market. It was a mite chilly, but their enthusiasm made up for the cold. Lapinette bounded into the Wabbit's paws. Or she would have, except he wasn't holding them out. Wabsworth was helpless with mirth. He'd souped up his sense of humour algorithm and guffawed like a pirate. "Love's young dream," he squealed. "That's quite enough Commander," said Lapinette. "Sorry Ma'am," he apologised. Lapinette was only pretending to be annoyed and she asked the question. "What was that for a sort of adventure we just had?" Skratch the Cat had arrived, only slightly late. "It was magic adventure, and you cannot have that on its own, Wabbit!" Wabsworth was anxious to redeem himself as a serious scholar. "Without society, magic does not exist. Yet its transformative nature is without mechanical parallel."  The Wabbit smiled one of his annoying smiles. "Even symbolic actions produce a change of state." Lapinette put her paws on her hips. "Collective imaginings of invisible powers imbue them with efficacy," she said, "And that is what makes magic a social fact." Skratch was on that with a pounce. "We are all social facts." They chanted together in unison. "We are all social facts. We are all social facts." The Wabbit hopped up and down. "I see cocktails here are dirt cheap! And that's a social fact." "You're buying, that's a fact." pointed Lapinette.