The Wabbit and his Adventure Caffè

A slap-up lunch was called for and the Wabbit said he would host it. Skratch was late as usual, but unapologetic. Wabsworth and Lapinette arrived first or so they thought. The Wabbit had concealed himself by the serving area and he called out, "Welcome everyone." Lapinette knew he was there all along. "I thought you weren't coming Wabbit," she smiled. It was a hot day, and the sun bleached the sidewalk. The Wabbit laughed. "Me? Miss the Adventure Caffè? Not likely ... Here's Skratch!" Skratch arrived late to make an entrance. "Ask me the question," he cried. "OK, Skratch my turn!" said Wabsworth, "What was that for a sort of adventure?" Skratch pretended to ponder. "It was about imagining the future." Lapinette pounced. "A future that's already here!" The Wabbit rapped his paw on a chair. "I don't think that matters. It's a design fiction. We created a narrative imaginary world. A map of sorts." Lapinette smiled. "A disarticulated form. It questions the narratological shape between fiction and reality." "If indeed we can speak of a reality," meaowed Skratch, "that Umberto Eco would have questioned in specularity." Wabsworth snorted. "Yet possible worlds have been around since Aristotle." Skratch grunted. "Maybe but possible worlds are stipulated, we don't need binoculars." The Wabbit's head was beginning to spin. "Does that stipulation get us a drink any quicker?" Skratch laughed. "You know Wabbit, it just might."

[I'm indebted to Mirko Gentile in 'Where are the flying cars? Exploring the role of SF in the construction of experiential futures.' Lexia Journal of Semiotics 45-46] 

6. The Wabbit and the Fresh Beach

Turbina's jet exploded with a blast that would awaken the dead. The blast included the extra odours at which Turbina was adept. He moved at the speed of light. The beach looked pleasant, but the cushion was still there. "I thought you were sending us back," said the Wabbit. The cushion curled into a shape that the Wabbit didn't like. "We wanted to make sure you were back and that you stayed well and truly back. Do not pester us with your maleficent odours again." The cushion began to dissipate and before long it had disappeared entirely. Wabsworth grinned. "What was that all about?" The Wabbit looked cheerful. "I don't rightly know, but here we are." He called to a beach bar for two proseccos. "This place looks familiar," observed Wabsworth. "Fregene," stated the Wabbit. "Quiet," said Wabsworth. "End of the summer," replied the Wabbit. Wabsworth looked at the Wabbit with horror. "It's 34 degrees, the sun is shining and the beach is sultry." The Wabbit merely shrugged. "It's the end of the summer and that's why no-one is here." Wabsworth leaned back and took in the scene. "I'm glad I'm an android, I'll never understand humanity," he murmured. "So what about me?" said Turbina, "I'm parked illegally on the beach." The Wabbit threw back his head and roared with laughter. "This is near Rome and frankly we don't give a damn." "I see our proseccos coming," said Wabsworth. "I want one too," said Turbina. "Non-alcoholic?" asked the Wabbit. "Have you lost all reason?" said Turbina.   

5. The Wabbit and the Smelly Kinkdom

Clouds billowed in! They found themselves surrounded by air cushions and they were none too happy. The one on the right had a ferocious expression and he smelled quite rank. "This is the Cloud Kinkdom and we argue all the time about how kinky we are," said the first air cushion. Turbina butted in. "Perhaps you could argue about how to reduce your smell."  They started to argue again. "That's the whole point," said the second, and he let out an enormous fart. "I'm getting out of here," said Turbina, but she couldn't make her wheels move. "I'm going to fire up all my gases, then have a right good clean up." Wabsworth covered his nose. She was as good as her word. All her turbine waste came pouring out. The first air cushion was aghast. He'd never smelled anything like it. "Styuck, yuk poo," he exclaimed. The second merely keeled over in a dead faint. "How do you manage!" he groaned. "Oh, we do, it's hard but we do," said the Wabbit. Secretly he gave a thumbs up to Turbina. Wabsworth encouraged her. "What about your second stage emissions?" he asked. Turbina emitted the ghastliest smell the Wabbit had ever known. His  fur curled like a snake stepped on it - but he didn't show it. "We're sending you back," said the cushion entities. The clouds cleared. They were sitting on a beach with clear air all around. "That blew me away," joked the Wabbit. Turbina erupted. Her wheels span and a sea of sand sprayed. "If it happens again, I'll blow you away, Commander!"

4. The Wabbit and the Air Kinkdom

The Air Cushion Entity took them across Rome and into a heavily guarded building. "Take no notice," he chortled, "This is all my domain. You are recognised as acceptable." Turbina made a comfortable landing. "What do we do now?" asked the Wabbit. "Nothing," said the Cushion entity. He settled into the waiting grooves. They seemed to have been made for him. The Wabbit noticed how kinky they were. "Are you always this kinky?" he asked, "I strive to be," said the Cushion. "Can you be kinky on your own?" asked Wabsworth. "I am many and we may take on whatever form we wish." The Cushion as adamant. "Would you like a refreshment?" "I thought you'd never ask," replied the Wabbit. The Wabbit was enveloped in a fine spray of Prosseco and so was Wabsworth. "This is kinky," said Wabsworth. He turned on his Prosecco enjoyment sub routine. "I'm all sticky," muttered Turbina. The Cushion responded by showering the car interior with a fragrant anti-static cleaning material. "What about a sandwich?" asked Turbina. "I only do liquids," laughed the Cushion. "I have a pulverised version." Turbina shuddered. The Wabbit fished in his fur and handed Turbina a salad sandwich. "Emergency rations," he grinned. The Wabbit looked around. "What takes place here?" "Very little," hooted the cushion, "it's a place to be." The Wabbit and Wabsworth got out of Turbina. The Wabbit struggled a bit, "Doesn't get any easier, does it?" grunted Wabsworth, "But would you like another prosecco?" The Wabbit leaped out with ease.

3. The Wabbit, Turbina and the Cushion

The Wabbit and Wabsworth didn't have time to visit any bar. Turbina coasted down and her doors opened. She yelled "Get in, get in." They were hardly settled in their seats when she took off. Her jet blasted - and inside seconds they were in EUR. "I've got to get your air cushion, Wabbit." The Wabbit knew things were serious if Turbina called him Wabbit and not Commander. "Why?" asked the Wabbit. "It's not what it seems!" replied Turbina. "What does it seem like?" asked Wabsworth. There was a silence as Turbina thought. "It seems like an entity." "An air cushion entity?" The Wabbit was curious. "It has properties," said Turbina," Look what it's doing! Attaching to my radiator. It might drain my precious liquids." Just then the air cushion detached from Turbina's radiator and started on the windows. "I don't need a wash and brush up," squealed Turbina. The Wabbit watched as the entity fixed itself to the air caps on the tyres. Then the entity spoke. "I have checked your systems and you are now deemed acceptable to enter the Air Kinkdom of Above. I will take you there." The cushion expanded and enveloped Turbina in a major cloud. The Wabbit shrugged and looked at Wabsworth. "Call it developmental research in fluid mechanics," he said. "Did he say Kinkdom?" asked the Wabbit. Wabsworth nodded gravely. "We could all do with straightening out," said the Wabbit. Wabsworth was inclined to agree. "All this moisture but no mention of a drink," sulked the Wabbit.

2. The Wabbit and the Air Cushion

The Wabbit and Wabsworth got to work on the new system and took it to a friendly shopping centre. They'd managed to persuade Turbina the Jet car to test it out and although she was reluctant at first, she saw sense in the enterprise. For a week's supply of salad sandwiches, she agreed to take part. Shoppers thought it was a raffle and tried to give Wabsworth money. He gave everyone a receipt and smiled nicely. At first all went well. They injected the air cushion and Turbina rose in the air. The Wabbit grinned and patted the hood. Wabsworth kicked the tyres and lit the fires. Turbina engaged her engine, and she floated round in a circle. "So far, so good," said the Wabbit. Turbina wasn't so happy. "I've no control of height, Commander." The Wabbit nodded. "We're working on that." Turbina could be bad- tempered. "Better work on it quick, I'm going to have to engage my jet with the new lattice drive." Wabsworth shook his head. "Not inside the shopping centre, please." Turbina powered up. The blast broke several windows and sent three men's suits spiralling into the air. Turbina continued to rise. An enterprising member of staff opened the sliding roof windows and Turbina shot right through them. "What next?" Turbina was remarkably calm. The air cushion began to disintegrate and disappeared into the atmosphere. Turbina flew in the sky above Valle Aurelia. Her voice crackled over the supermarket loudspeakers. "Your idea needs work, Commander." "Back to the drawing board," murmured the Wabbit. "I know a nearby bar," said Wabsworth. 

1. The Wabbit and the need for Tyre Sales

The Wabbit was passing the tyre shop in Via Gregorio VII. He always looked in with fascination and considered the continuing need for tyres. Couldn't vehicles just glide on cushions of air? There would be no wear and rear, he thought, no need for a tread, no blowouts, no inflation, deflation or any other kind of ation. The Wabbit considered it a little longer and came upon a problem. Without friction, how would the automobile stop? He wanted to ask the man in the garage but it was deserted and there was no-one there to ask. He thought for a bit and then he hit upon an idea. Hover cars. The cars would use anti- gravity technology and hover a metre from the ground. The Wabbit remembered an article in Popular Mechanics and a book by an Australian author. He determined he'd discuss it with Wabsworth and began hopping in his direction. As it happened, Wabsworth had a long-abandoned prototype in the back of the shed. Maybe they could dig it out and modify it. The Wabbit had some old bits too. Liberated from Denny Shipyard in the Clyde, they had lain about at the back of The Department of Wabbit Affairs for years. They were highly usable, at least on water. Why not on land? With a spring in his hop, the Wabbit made his way to see Wabsworth.