1. The Wabbit and the Slow Sabbatical

"Did you find anything?" Lapinette had looked forward to a night on the town, but the Wabbit shook his head. He gestured with a flick of his ears. "It's closed. Nothing there but dusty leaflets from last year." Lapinette looked disappointed. "What about the Grand Opera?" The Wabbit sighed. "Been and gone. We missed it" "I suppose we were far too busy having adventures." smiled Lapinette. The Wabbit allowed himself a lop sided grin and agreed. "All work and no play." They were quiet for a while. A chewing gum wrapper drifted slowly down the sidewalk and disappeared round a corner. The Wabbit watched it go. "I can't take the excitement," he muttered.  Lapinette thought. "Perhaps we need a hobby." The Wabbit's nose wrinkled. "We're not pensioners yet." "Then what about the Carrot Club?" said Lapinette. The Wabbit sniffed haughtily. "The Carrot Club closes in the summer for us to take sabbaticals." Lapinette was delighted. "So that means we can all go somewhere nice." "Well, it has to be carrot-related and vaguely educational." said the Wabbit quickly. Lapinette suddenly saw herself on an archaeological dig, carefully brushing dust from a fossilised carrot. Then in her vision, she raised her head and fanned herself with a linen hat. Helpers were preparing drinks and bearing them on trays to a large tent. "I have an idea," said Lapinette.

The Wabbit at the Adventure Pub

The Wabbit grabbed a stool as quickly as he could. "These are like gold dust in here," he yelled, "give me a helping paw, Wabsworth." Skratch's familiar voice floated across the bar. "What will you 'ave today father?" Glasses tinkled as the Wabbit crashed his stool around. Lapinette chimed in. "Can't you see the state of my glass?" "It's full," said Skratch. "Not for long," said Lapinette and she drank it back in a single gulp. "You don't like beer," said the Wabbit with a puzzled voice. "It ain't beer," smiled Lapinette and she winked at Skratch. Wabsworth shook his head and adopted a Cockney accent. "Wot kind of adventure was we in then?" "Horror-alien sub genre," said Skratch. "What with all these bleedin' troublemakers, it stands to reason, dunit?" Lapinette was sceptical and now she had acquired another glass. "The invaders looked just like us, and so they weren't so alien." "And they came from inside us, not outside," added Wabsworth. "Contamination," said Skratch, refusing to give up on his original argument. "But you can't have contamination from inside," said Lapinette. "Oh yes, you can," said Skratch. "It's an attack from the worst of places - inside us." The Wabbit began to feel left out. "A metaphor for loss of identity through contamination of the self?" Lapinette looked at her drink and thought for a while. Skratch polished glasses. The Wabbit span on his stool. Finally, Lapinette spoke. "My self needs a refreshment."

8. The Wabbit and the Great Escape

Turbulent air filled with cabbage leaves as a winged creature dropped from the sky. The Wabbit and Wabsworth found themselves high above the street in the safe clutches of Terni the Food Dragon. They looked at each other and then across to Terni's other talon. The monstroid creature was gibbering. "Is this an extra wabtax?" "Yes!" yelled Wabsworth. "No," shouted the Wabbit. His stitches were aching and he longed to scratch. "Where shall I drop this thing, Commander?" roared Terni. He flexed his monster wings and looped high above the rooftops. Terni's nose was pepper hot and the Wabbit fidgeted in a bad tempered way. "The Mariana Trench," he spluttered. Terni's breath painted an enormous "W" in the sky. "That's much too far, Wabbit. Would you settle for Etna?" The creature stopped drooling for an instant. "I yearn for the deep, wabtanic caverns." "What could possibly go wrong?" shrugged the Wabbit. "Just about everything," said Wabsworth, "and now I need a new coat." "Invisible mending," said the Wabbit. "Where?" asked Wabsworth. "Edinburgh," suggested the Wabbit, "my kilt maker will do it on the spot." Wabsworth nodded and spoke to Terni, "Change of plan for monster dropping." Terni smiled with a puff of fiery peppers. "Give the word." It was the Wabbit's turn to smile. "Loch Ness ... but drop us off at a pub." 

7. The Wabbit and the Monstroids

The Wabbit rushed Wabsworth to a quiet spot, but it was already happening. Wabsworth's chest opened and monstrous facsimiles scurried out. They came out small but didn't stay that way. And there were more and more. The Wabbit backed up to the wall and held up his paws. It was a way to buy time - and indeed, they stopped at once. It was then that the Wabbit had a bright idea. Wabsworth was his android copy and he knew his idiosyncracies better than any other being. "Environmental tourist tax!" he yelled, "each visitor counted separately." Curiously, all the creatures looked at the Wabbit and waited. "Discounts for smaller groups, less harm." The creatures began to merge. "If you fail to pay," shouted the Wabbit, "the matter will be referred." The creatures looked perplexed behind drooling faces. "Non payment is always referred to the Ministry for Revenge," continued the Wabbit cheerfully. He was mostly making it up - yet the Ministry for Revenge was real enough. No case ever brought to that bleak, foreboding edifice had been resolved in the lifetime of the plaintiff, but the creatures didn't know that and they shivered. "In the environment," shouted the Wabbit, "fewer tourists are less wear and tear." The copies gradually merged until there was only a single large creature standing. "May I inspect your licence to tour?" asked the Wabbit ...

6. The Wabbit and the Street Screamer

The creature's whine was like a thousand air screws. Cracks in the paving spread towards them. Blood seeped through the cracks. The Wabbit and Wabsworth grabbed some sticks from a passing hurling team and waited for the inevitable. With an explosion of blood, the creature emerged and darted towards the Wabbit. The Wabbit stood like a goalkeeper. He waited for the cracks to reach him and raised his stick high. Wabsworth snuck up from the back and hopping forward he whacked the creature with all his strength. Wabsworth was an android and his whack was considerable, but the creature didn't stop. The Wabbit suddenly swiped and this time he caught the creature off balance. Something rolled away. Wabsworth trapped it between his feet. "Commander!" he yelled. "It's synthetic." "I hate bio-mechanical monsters," murmured the Wabbit and he hit it again. Another component bounced along the sidewalk. The screams were deafening. "Wabbawabbawabba" moaned the creature and it dropped into the crack. Wabsworth looked round. Serrated arms clawed through asphalt as the creature sprang at him. But Wabsworth was no longer there. From behind, Wabsworth brought his stick down with a savage blow that disassembled the creature's head. The Wabbit looked relieved but it was short lived. Wabsworth clutched his chest. "Commander? There's something moving inside me."

5. The Wabbit and the Beastly Pursuit

The creature dropped easily into the hospital atrium and Wabsworth and the Wabbit followed as best they could. "You'll never make that drop, Commander!" shouted Wabsworth. The Wabbit vaulted over the edge anyway. His stitches stretched and his teeth chattered but somehow he made it to the ground. Wabsworth fired round after round, but nothing hit the dodging, jinking creature. Its serrated paws flailed at anything it came across, and the horrid mouth drooled a mixture of saliva and blood. "Give me back my blood" shouted the Wabbit. The creature started to scream. Windows shattered, elevators plunged from their moorings. The air became a sea of potted plants as a high pitched whine wound its way around the concourse. Wabsworth dived for the stairs and flew down a banister rail, emerging right in the face of the creature. "Take that," he shouted and he hit it with two bunched fists. "Wabamama!" it yelled and it grasped Wabsworth between sharp paws. Wabsworth hit it with the butt of his gun. "Don't call me mama," he grunted. For a moment the creature went down. But in a flash it was on its feet and motoring towards the exit. "Wabbawabbawabba!" it spluttered through its bloodied mouth. With a shrill scream and a spray of dust, sharp paws cut through marble paving and the creature vanished ...

4. The Wabbit and the Monster Inside

Wabsworth heard a cry and he went to check on the Wabbit. The Wabbit was gasping, almost choking. Suddenly his chest heaved with an enormous bulge and his stitches flew open. With a high pitched scream and a whirring of serrated paws, a creature that looked just like the Wabbit burst out of the Wabbit's chest. Wabsworth pulled an automatic from his fur, but he failed to get a sight on the creature that would miss the Wabbit's vitals. "Gerrorrr it off!" yelled the Wabbit and he whacked the creature with all his strength. His strength wasn't quite up to par, but the creature slewed to the right and its paws scythed air. Wabsworth hit it with the grip of the automatic and it somersaulted onto the bed. The Wabbit lashed out with his legs. There was nothing wrong with the Wabbit's kick and the creature hit the deck with a massive thud. A scream that could cut metal tore air, and the scream got louder. Wabsworth covered his ears. Whatever it was tried to climb onto the bed but the Wabbit's feet smacked the menacing mouth square on. Drool sprayed everywhere. Now Wabsworth had a clear shot and he fired - but the thing was quick. The mattress smoked with gunfire as the creature headed for the door. "Stop it!" yelled the Wabbit and he zipped up his stitches. He tried to get up and his groan joined the scream as he hit the floor hopping. Wabsworth's face was a fury. "Leave it Commander, I'll get that parasite." "This is personal!" yelled the Wabbit.

3. The Wabbit and the Waiting Crowd

The Wabbit's personal guard, the 400 Rabbits, gathered outside the hospital, waiting for any news about the Wabbit. No-one quite knew who had tipped them off, but everyone was there. Lapinette decided to give them a briefing, mainly in the hope they would go away. But she had no idea what to say. "The Wabbit is comfortable," she announced. "How comfortable?" shouted one of the 400. "On a scale from one to ten," shouted another." "Em, five point one," said Lapinette. She held aloft a report which was entirely blank, but looked official enough. The 400 rabbits talked amongst themselves. "We brought salad sandwiches for the Wabbit," they shouted, "and grappa." Lapinette flourished her report. "The Wabbit has to fast!" A murmur of disappointment rippled through the throng. Lapinette adopted her most official voice. "I must ask you now to leave so that the Wabbit may rest." "We're not going," shouted the 400. "We brought tents." Lapinette was running out of steam so she grasped at straws. "The Wabbit left vouchers so that you could all enjoy a night on the town." "And leave the Wabbit?" shouted the 400, "no way!" Lapinette sighed inwardly then pretended to scrutinise the report. "The Wabbit may need blood," she shouted. "Please report to hospitals across the city ... to donate." The 400 dispersed with speed leaving nothing behind but the odd grappa bottle. Lapinette spoke quietly to herself. "If I'd told them, the Wabbit would bust his stitches."

2. The Wabbit and the Hospital Run

Wabsworth took an unorthodox route to the hospital. This involved the illegitimate use of three walkways and a pedestrian tunnel. The Wabbit didn't seem to care about that. Nor did he comment on the trail of street furniture that Wabsworth left in his wake. So Wabsworth knew the Wabbit was seriously out of sorts. The hospital had several entrances but Wabsworth ignored them all. If he could have driven directly into the emergency ward, he would have. Instead he took the fastest route. He crashed through the back gates, drove up several flights of stairs, then jumped from a connecting bridge. "Nice view," slurred the Wabbit. Lapinette's teeth jarred. She held on with both paws and kept a mental note of the damage. "It's over there," she shouted and she pointed a paw. Wabsworth slid between two squad cars and left tyre tracks on the hood of a highly polished vehicle belonging to the Finance Police. Lapinette scribbled an apologetic note, attached several meal tickets and threw it out. Wabsworth screeched to a halt and lifted the Wabbit from the jeep. "Whassa matter?" asked the Wabbit. "Am I going on a lovely vacation?" He convulsed and clutched his side suddenly. "I have a rabbit in my tummy," he announced solemnly, "his name is Ernie." "Emergenza! Agente ferito. Codice rosso!" yelled Lapinette.
[Emergenza! Agente ferito. Codici rosso! : Italian - Emergency. Officer injured. Code Red]

1. The Wabbit and the Hidden Wound

"Ow," said the Wabbit as his foot lurched on the sidewalk. Lapinette looked at him critically. "You're limping." "I think I did myself a mischief," groaned the Wabbit, Lapinette's eyes flashed. "When?" "It was that rumble I had with the Tracker," sighed the Wabbit. Lapinette waited for more information. "I was shot in the shoulder. Then when I came to, I heard Wabsworth calling for help on the radio." Lapinette nodded and the Wabbit continued. "I tried to reach him by propelling myself through the snow, but I lost control and hit a snowdrift." The Wabbit groaned as he recalled the impact. "Something in my side went crick." Lapinette gently prodded his side. "Yaaagh!" shrieked the Wabbit. "That does it!" shouted Lapinette, "I'm taking you to the hospital," "No need to bother," said the Wabbit. He clutched his fur and stumbled, then smiled sweetly. "It's only a pulled muscle." Lapinette pulled a radio from her frock. "I'm calling Wabsworth to bring the jeep." The Wabbit was dismayed. "I'll be pulled off duty," he scowled. Lapinette spoke urgently into her walkie talkie then turned to the Wabbit. "No-one is indispensable." A look that Lapinette recognised flashed across the Wabbit's face. She knew the Wabbit regarded himself as the most indispensable rabbit that ever hopped the earth. Lapinette prodded his side again. "Yikes!" yelled the Wabbit, grabbing onto Lapinette's fur before he collapsed. The radio crackled and a muffled voice spoke. "On my way," said Wabsworth.

The Wabbit at the Adventure Caffè

Skratch the Cat timed his entrance to perfection. When the others arrived, he pounced out from inside the caffè. "Flowers for little old me?" he grinned, "you really shouldn't have!" The Wabbit saluted solemnly. "We were waiting for you tell us what kind of adventure we were in." Skratch saluted in return. "This time, I think you should tell us, Commander." The Wabbit grinned. "Well sit down Skratch, I'm going to pass the buck." He called for drinks and looked at Wabsworth. "Your turn." Wabsworth didn't hesitate. "It was an open text, in a world of unavoidable diverse readings." "Umberto Eco," said Lapinette firmly. The Wabbit was agog. "Do you understand him?" he asked, "I really haven't the slightest clue what he's talking about." Lapinette chuckled enticingly. "He inferred that readers had to make things up and splice them back into the story." "The reader lends a hand to the author." said Skratch. "And the hand remains an enigma just outside our grasp," sighed Lapinette." Skratch leaned back, mimed puffing a pipe and adopted a stuffy English accent. "The Beast with Five Fingers, don't ya know? What a strange business altogether." The Wabbit thought deeply. "What about our readers? Do they have to make things up?" "All the time!" laughed Lapinette.

9. The Wabbit and the Last Oration

Lapinette turned and walked through the graveyard. The Wabbit signalled for the rest to keep a respectful distance as Lapinette paused between two gravestones. The hand settled quietly on the grassy plot in front. Lapinette raised two paws skywards and waited. Branches lowered. Thunder rolled. Lightning flashed. Cloaked in a clear blue light, Lapinette began to speak. "The part is the whole, the whole is the part." Somewhere in the distance, a piano played Mozart's Requiem. The Wabbit delved deeply for his medal ribbons and attached them to his fur. Wabsworth bowed his head and so did Skratch the Cat. Now the distant piano played joyfully. "Freude, schöner Götterfunken," said Lapinette. Everyone smiled as the hand sank into the grass. Wabsworth felt something rippling through his android circuits and Skratch's tail stood bolt upright. The hand sank deeper  - but just before it disappeared, it made a small wave of farewell. The Wabbit saluted. "I leave you in good hands," said Lapinette and she slowly dropped her paws. Rolling thunder became silent. Lightning ceased. The piano began to play jazz and it filled the wooded space. The Wabbit watched the last of the hand fade from sight. "Take Five," murmured the Wabbit and he waved goodbye.

8. Lapinette and the Instant Reading

They followed the hand through the Bavarian Quarter until it came to the graveyard - and face to face with Lapinette. Bathed in daytime moonlight, she stood directly in the path of the hand. Her paw moved upwards and with a deft gesture, produced a Tarot card. Time seemed to freeze and with it the hand. "Cards or palm?" hissed Lapinette. The hand flipped over and offered a palm creased with lines.  "Criss cross." whispered Lapinette, "you have more lines than the Coliseum, more junctions than King's Cross." The hand trembled under Lapinette's searching eyes. "I see a vague musical talent, stretched past its best," murmured Lapinette. The hand twisted in discomfort. The Wabbit watched, powerless to intervene. He glanced at Wabsworth, then at the hand. "Magic," shrugged Wabsworth, staring at Lapinette. Lapinette's voice became silky smooth as she scrutinised every line in the palm. "You must seek another path." The forefinger moved and seemed to inscribe something - like graffiti on an ancient wall. "Yes, you do have a choice," answered Lapinette. "Forget your lines, they're old and tired." The hand dropped to the ground and crawled along the path towards Lapinette. The light of the daylight moon fell on the Tarot card - and now the Wabbit could see it clearly. "The Magician," he breathed ...

7. The Wabbit and the Angry Piano

The severed hand played until it was exhausted but the piano demanded more. Its pedals clattered and its keyboard snapped yet still it was unsatisfied. Preludes gave way to etudes. Nocturnes, ballads and scherzos passed without pause. When the hand exhausted the classics, it played boogie woogie, bop and blues, until it had consumed the entire breadth of jazz. But the piano was insatiable. It bounded in the air and rocked around the clock. "I think we should go." The Wabbit's voice was a murmur but it came out loud. Five fingers swept the length of the keyboard and slammed down hard, and then the hand somersaulted and flew in the direction of the exit. "Follow that hand!" yelled the Wabbit. Everyone followed, but so did the piano. It had lost a few panels by this time and the lid flapped wildly, but its keys crashed out a macabre version of the Planet Suite. Drama and violence dripped down walls like molten plastic as the deranged piano charged relentlessly, "Run! Run or we'll B flat." Skratch thought a joke might help and it certainly made a difference. The piano chattered menacingly and picked up speed. Ivory spat in all directions. "It can't hold the keys!" yelled the Wabbit.

6. The Wabbit and the Ghostly Notes

The Museum's Piano Room was huge and the severed hand sped along the line of pianos and back. With a prod of a poky forefinger it tried this one and that - until it settled on an upright piano of considerable size. The hand played a tune on ivory keys that had seen musical evenings of many years. They had suffered the touch of a thousand hands and were worn here and there, but they had never endured anything like the onslaught that the severed hand meted out. The Wabbit and Wabsworth felt their ears turn to jelly. The floor shook beneath their feet as the piano shuddered into a tune. "Graceful Ghost Rag!" shouted Skratch. But the Rag was as graceful as a spectral sausage. "The hand can't syncopate," yelled the Wabbit. "All hands sign the plate?" queried Wabsworth. The hand stopped. Then it switched to D minor. No single hand had ever played Beethoven so sweetly - and no hand would ever do so again. The piano lifted into the air and swayed as the hand tinkled Ghostly Waltzes. Skratch pirouetted and exclaimed he'd never been so moved. With a sudden jolt, the piano crashed on the polished floor and the music halted abruptly. To everyone's astonishment, pianos keys moved independently and the piano began to speak. "Does the hand do requests?"

5. The Wabbit and the Right Piano

They met Skratch the Cat at a museum that lay in the heart of the Bavarian quarter. Skratch always had many keys and most of them fitted something. If they didn't, he had other ways of getting in. "This one's sure to fit," he meaowed. Wabsworth and the Wabbit gently carried the severed hand, wrapped in a bag, through the empty museum. It twisted a bit when it sensed musical instruments, then it traced several notes with a long forefinger. One by one, instruments in the glass cases started to play and displays vibrated loudly. "Shhh," hissed the Wabbit. The music faded slightly and the Wabbit patted the bag. Skratch was enthusiastic. "What kind of piano does the hand want?" he purred. "An early fortepiano? Maybe a virginal or a clavichord?" The hand shook violently. "An electronic piano?" suggested Skratch. The hand made a rude sign. "A grand piano!" said Wabsworth. The hand seemed interested. "Parlour Grand, Boudoir Grand or Baby Grand?" asked Skratch. An air of indecision hung in the air and the hand tried to wriggle out of the bag. "Let's find the right room and let the hand choose," murmured the Wabbit. He gripped the bag tightly and quickened pace as the instruments burst into Scarlatti's Cat Fugue. Skratch pirouetted across the floor. "My favourite," he purred.

4. The Wabbit and the Upper Hand

The Wabbit suddenly turned and the severed hand jumped back. Wabsworth tentatively touched flesh that felt clammy and yielding. The Wabbit sneered and shouted, "What do you want?" For a moment the hand hung like a flap. Then fingers traced the outline of a piano and pecked at the Wabbit's fur. Music filled the arcade with wrong notes that growled and howled. Everything was off key. The hand jarred and twitched and the five fingers pinched. The Wabbit bared 28 teeth and snapped viciously. The hand retreated and bumped into Wabsworth with its stump. Wabsworth brushed it off and spoke up. "Perhaps you'd like a nice ring? I can get you five if you like." A forefinger wagged negatively and made another shape. "It wants a piano," said the Wabbit and he mimed playing one with his paws. "Skratch the Cat can get a piano," said Wabsworth quickly, "he can get anything." "He can get you sheet music, too," said the Wabbit. "And a stool," added Wabsworth, immediately regretting it. Nonetheless, the hand seemed enthusiastic because his fingers were all of a flutter. The Wabbit hummed the Last Concerto but now the hand was far from pleased. It wagged a forefinger at the Wabbit and made a move for his ears. Wabsworth grabbed the arm and twisted, the Wabbit forced the thumb backwards - and together they wrestled the hand down. "It's time to face the music," smiled the Wabbit.

3. The Wabbit and the Five Fingers

Wabsworth and the Wabbit scurried from the cinema with the disembodied hand in hot pursuit. "I need information!" yelled the Wabbit. Wabsworth was an android copy of the Wabbit and resembled him to a point. But where the Wabbit's memory was concerned, he was quicker. "Symbolically, hands can mean justice." "I was just going to say that," said the Wabbit, "but what about fingers?" The hand flexed fingers and showered them in nail clippings that hooked into their fur. A nail scraped viciously on glass. The screech crashed down and chewed the sidewalk. "It's not a helping hand," yelled Wabsworth. He grabbed the Wabbit's fur and hauled him along the gloomy arcade. "I guess handcuffs aren't going to work," moaned the Wabbit. Five fingers drew a series of notes on the wall and the arcade rang to a left handed piano concerto. A sharp nail traced a pattern through the Wabbit's fur. The longest finger touched Wabsworth on the ear and he dragged the Wabbit faster. "Any ideas from the movie?" gasped the Wabbit. Wabsworth began to lope. "We could try giving it a ring." "It hasn't got a phone," yelled the Wabbit. "A finger ring!" shouted Wabsworth. The Wabbit looked around for a jewellery shop and rummaged in his fur for a brick. But a finger and thumb pinched his ear in a painful grip ...

2. The Wabbit and the Phantom Hand

In a small repertory cinema in the very centre of town, the Wabbit and Wabsworth took what was on offer. There was no rain as Wabsworth had correctly anticipated, but there was a musty smell like a soggy mop abandoned in a corner. They sat spellbound. A wheelchair-bound pianist had been murdered and to the haunting strains of Bach's Chaconne, his severed single hand crept abroad seeking musical justice. Both Wabsworth and the Wabbit trembled as the hand opened a window, then jumped at a scrabbling sound from behind them. "People just can't behave at the cinema," whispered Wabsworth. The Wabbit pulled a pad from his fur and made a short note concerning the cinema and popular culture. The hand on the screen wrote a note and signed it, then hid itself in a drawer. "Is this the right version?" asked Wabsworth. "Things are mixed up." "Maybe it's one of these restored prints," suggested the Wabbit. On screen, the hand leaped from the drawer to a piano and played jazz in the manner of Thelonius Monk. Wabsworth was spooked and so was the Wabbit. Nails scratched fabric. "I think there's a cat in the cinema," said the Wabbit. The movie hand casually squeezed the neck of a victim. A gurgle ended in a wheeze and the wheeze faded slowly. The Wabbit felt a sudden thump in the back of his seat. "People have no manners," hissed the Wabbit angrily and he turned ...

1. The Wabbit in the Weary Weather

The Wabbit bumped into Wabsworth in the city. He could never recall the name of the street and if asked directions, he didn't know the way. "What's this street called?" asked the Wabbit. "I have no clue," shrugged Wabsworth, "shall I look it up using a powerful application?" The Wabbit shook his head. "I don't think it matters. It's near somewhere else." The rain was slight but it was one of these showers that soaked into the fur. Wabsworth shivered. "We need a change of climate. This makes my bones creak." The Wabbit was perfectly aware that Wabsworth was an android, but had long given up figuring his idiosyncrasies. "Me too," he murmured. "Maybe the weather is better over there." He pointed vaguely into the middle distance. "The weather is usually different in the cinema," said Wabsworth. "Oh, I know what you mean," sighed the Wabbit. On his last cinematic visit, the air conditioning was set so low he'd been forced to borrow an overcoat and socks. He thought affectionately of South Pacific and Fahrenheit 451. "I suppose we could go to the movies," he suggested, "so what's on?" "Frozen," said Wabsworth. The Wabbit scowled. Rain swept down from the Alps bearing more than a touch of frost, and they dived into a caffè.  "What will you have?" asked Wabsworth. The Wabbit's response was swift. "Caffè corretto!" "Make that a double," said Wabsworth.

[ Caffè corretto: espresso coffee with a shot of brandy or grappa]

The Wabbit at the Adventure Caffè

They all approached from different angles. With Nessie arriving for drinks, there seemed to be lots of room so they sat down. Nessie didn't scare the waiters because they knew with the Wabbit, anything could happen. The Wabbit looked at Wabsworth and Wabsworth looked at Skratch. "I didn't like that red wind," said Skratch. "It woke me up." It was that kind of wind," drawled the Wabbit. "Makes your fur itch." "Yep," said Skratch, "everything goes screwy." "Well I'll ask the question." said Wabsworth. He hadn't sat down and looked like he was thinking. "What sort of screwy adventure was that?" he said finally. "Skratch smiled a film class smile. "It bounced around like a cork from a bottle of bubbly." "And then the cat got the cork," smiled Lapinette. Wabsworth put a word in. "Don't be so harsh. Despite its noir pretensions, it wasn't a genre piece. The wind drove it along like a screwed up chocolate wrapping." A light breeze played with the flowers in the pink vase, got bored and moved on. Skratch relented. "The wind is invisible but in the adventure the dust betrayed it. It gave it colour and ammunition." Lapinette's ears swayed gently. "The ghosts used the wind like a freight train and didn't pay." "Better charge it to the dust and let the rain settle it," roared Nessie. A spit of rain spread a damp bead on the tablecloth and it was quickly joined by another. "The rain suggests we drink inside," said the Wabbit.

8. The Wabbit breaks the Surface

The Wabbit heard ventilators closing and the unmistakable sound of bulkhead flappers. "Brace!" he yelled and he hung onto a rail. Number Nine Tram shot up through the river in a cloud of murky spray. A warm glow from the sky embraced them and Nessie roared in delight. "Wabbit, dae ye aye have so much fun?" The air was still gritty. But there were no ghosts. Lapinette dug the Wabbit in the ribs. "What happened to the Ghosts from the Mountain?" "Mi bad bwai take care of dem duppies. Dem run." said the reggae creature. "Galang chase dem back where dey fra." "Forever?" asked Lapinette. "Trubble no set like rain, Cunie," said the reggae creature. "No badda bawl - im soon come back." The Wabbit had completely forgotten the creatures knew him as Cunie, the African rabbit god. He grinned but had a sudden thought. "What about the Roman Centurion sent to guard us?" "A voice spoke from the back. "Yahso fi real." The Wabbit grinned again. "You're not a Roman Centurion at all, are you?" "No," said the Centurion reluctantly. "I'm a time tourist." "That will cost you 500 euro," shouted Nessie. The Centurion paid up quietly. The reggae creature stared at Lapinette and whistled a low whistle of appreciation. "I-Rey! Im frack look gud." "I didn't quite hear that." said Lapinette primly.
[Bad bwai : Bad Boy.   No badda bawl. : No use crying.   Yahso : right here.   I-Rey! Im frack look gud. : Well hello! Your frock is nice.]

7. The Wabbit chants down Babylon

Number Nine Tram hung in the Late Tunnel and all was relaxed - or so it seemed. Reggae creatures swirled through with a tune and left. But Nessie was agitated and roared. "The Ghosts from the Mountain are still coming." A reggae creature draped himself on a seat. "Yuh no haffi worry - dem jus' bong belly pickney," "That's enough donkya," snapped Nessie, "Babylon dey cum." The reggae creature hummed a snatch of an old Trench Town ballad. "Wha bangarang place yu frahn?" The loudspeakers crackled. "Yuh a chat bagga nonsense," shouted Nine, "opin up yuh iez and listen!" A wind whistled through the Late Tunnel and flung red speckled dust at the windows. Reggae creatures bounded inside, shut everything up and fell silent. There was no music - just the sound of scratching glass. "Heavy manners," murmured the Wabbit. "Look, we can't stay in the tunnel forever," said Lapinette, "we need to stop the wind." "Wi a gwaan chant dem down," said a creature. "That's it!" shouted the Wabbit and he whacked his feet on the floor. "Cole cole wind, wi chant yuh down." They all joined in, making it up as they went along. It was a whole lot of chanting and the wind dropped away to nothing. "So far, so good," murmured the Wabbit.
[Bong belly pickney : greedy children.  donkya : don't care. Babylon dey cum : the enemy is coming. Bangarang : old]

6. The Wabbit in the Late Tunnel

Deep beneath the bowels of the Metro lay the Late Tunnel. Known to a select few, this was where streetcars hid from inspectors, waiting to pop up on the surface ahead of schedule. Number Nine Tram appeared momentarily, scooped the Wabbit, Lapinette and Nessie from a platform and disappeared into the Late Tunnel. Loudspeakers crackled. "Welcome to my schedule," said Nine. "You're late," grinned the Wabbit.  "It's you that's early," said Nine. With a hiss of compressed air a door opened and offbeat rhythms floated through. The Tunnel was populated with Reggae Creatures, who's music gave a whole new meaning to the term "late". They happily surrounded Number Nine and played a classic that was strictly roots. There was no red speckled dust and no laughing tricksters from the Mountain of Ghosts. The Wabbit breathed a clean, clear sigh of relief. "Wabbit, Mi waah know a watta guwaan yasso?" said a reggae creature. The Wabbit shrugged. "The wind brought ghosts and they're out to haunt us." "Bun a fyah on dat!" snorted the creature. "Rassclaat duppies," snorted another. The reggae creatures broke into a strident dub that lasted a considerable time. "Whit are they oan about?" asked Nessie. "They're expressing musical outrage at our ghost predicament," said the Wabbit. "Oh aye," snarled Nessie agreeably. "Togeda we gibe dem trubble."
[Jamaican/Rasta patois. Mi waah know a watta guwaan yasso? :  I want to know what's going on.  Togeda : together
Bun a fya on dat : (abusive) Burn a fire on that!.  Raasclat  : (abusive) toilet paper.. Duppy : dangerous spirit/ghost.]

5. The Wabbit and the Laughing Wind

The red speckled dust grew worse and the Wabbit and Lapinette scampered for shelter. Nessie followed close behind and slithered along the station concourse. For a wonderful moment they were free of the dust. Then the vents suddenly opened and dense swathes of red dust filled the building. Dusty spirals burrowed everywhere and whenever they touched glass, they gave out a low sliding laugh. "This isn't funny," coughed the Wabbit.  A spiral slid across his glasses and sniggered. "Laughing ghosts!" bellowed Nessie. Lapinette dodged a feathery spiral as it chortled past. "Wabbit, these must be your ghosts." "Ghosts have no sense of humour," scowled the Wabbit as a spiral crept between his ears. Lapinette stopped. "That's not true. Ghosts play tricks and howl with laughter." The spirals howled and flung red grit at their eyes. "These are daft demons," roared Nessie. Vents chattered and threw more dust. "The Sirocco comes from the Sahara," shouted Lapinette. The Wabbit turned. "They're from the Mountain of Ghosts!" But although the Wabbit had a theory, he was no further forward. One of the spirals exhaled a spray of grit in his face and cackled. The air was unbreathable and as hot as the desert it came from. The Wabbit nudged Lapinette, made an M sign with his paws and gestured down at the rails. Then he put his paws over his scarf and muffled his voice like a station announcer. "All passengers to Level 1 for complimentary biscuits."

4. The Wabbit and Nessie's Connection

Lapinette suggested the wooded river and they made their way through the red speckled dust. "Something moved in the trees," said the Wabbit. Lapinette narrowed her eyes, stared through the hazy air and sighed. "I think it's a Roman Centurion." The Wabbit shrugged and pulled his scarf over his mouth. At that moment, the river erupted and spray drenched him from head to foot. "Nessie!" yelled the Wabbit. "You're supposed to home in Scotland." "I took a holiday," roared Nessie. The Wabbit was horrified. "What about the elections?" Nessie smiled a jagged tooth smile. "I voted at the Scottish Embassy." A wail from the river bank pierced the wind. "Do you know him?" asked the Wabbit. "I thought the ghost was with you," replied Nessie. Lapinette had a moment of clarity. "He is always with us." The Wabbit found Nessie's spray invigorating and he soaked his scarf and wiped dust from his face. "So he must be our ghost." Nessie bellowed above the wind. "Does everyone get a ghost?" Lapinette spoke primly. "A ghost is a projection of the unconscious, a reality we disown." "No it's not," shouted the Centurion. The Wabbit half smiled but dust went down his throat. "You can always speak to a ghost." "Speak then," said Lapinette. But the ghost spoke first. "I came to guard you," he called. Then he vanished ...

3. The Wabbit and the Ghost Bullet

Lapinette and the Wabbit swept into the caffè but the red speckled wind got there first. Dust swirled in every cranny. The Wabbit called for drinks and got them - but he declined the sandy sandwiches. Without warning, the bartender slumped unconscious across the bar. Glasses and cups flew everywhere, but made not a single sound as they hit the floor. The Wabbit sipped his wine, pulled out his automatic and looked at Lapinette. Lapinette looked back. Their ears retracted slightly and they waited. Suddenly glasses and cups smashed noisily and there was a devastating crack as the mirror shattered. "That was a ghost bullet," said the Wabbit. Lapinette wrinkled her nose and picked some glass from her frock. "The bullet seemed real enough." The Wabbit pushed his automatic back in his fur and shrugged. "In popular folklore," he said, "a ghost bullet can only be fired by a ghost." The wind hammered the windows like a debt collector and the door creaked. Lapinette shivered. "Then we'd better find the ghost." The Wabbit had to think. "We need to know what kind of a ghost this is." Lapinette had no option but to join in. "A poltergeist?" Another glass smashed to the floor by her feet and a coffee cup flew past her head. "I don't think so," said the Wabbit, neatly dodging a whisky tumbler, "they don't come armed." The espresso machine burst into life and made coffee. "Deus ex machina?" sighed the Wabbit.

2. The Wabbit and the Ancient Ammo

Lapinette and the Wabbit worked quickly on the rooftop. When the Sirocco blows through Turin you can't waste time. They were both enveloped in speckled red dust that swirled from the horizon - and in the blast, things had a tendency to vanish. Lapinette grabbed a cartridge box and read the inscription. "Never heard of it," said the Wabbit. Lapinette's fur stood on end because the Wabbit had heard of all that sort of thing and a bit more besides. "Never seen this before either." His voice was a mumble in the wind. Lapinette could hear it nonetheless. "It simply doesn't exist," said the Wabbit. Lapinette waited and shook dust from her scarf. "It has to be something." "It is really something. It's an ancient Roman bullet." "Nonsense," spluttered Lapinette, "how do you know?" The Wabbit looked closely, screwed up his eyes and read the lettering. "It says ... 'Up you, Crassus.'"  Lapinette laughed. "It must have been Spartacus then." Her voice was sarcastic - but the Wabbit tucked the bullet into a plastic bag that he had in his fur. "It's a ghost bullet, that's what it is." The Wabbit slapped his fur and shed speckled red dust far and wide. "There are recent sightings of Roman centurions marching beside Loch Lomond bearing current day weapons." Lapinette shook dust from her ears. "I expect the bars were open late that night." "Someone said bar!" grinned the Wabbit.

1. The Wabbit and the Speckled Wind

The Wabbit and Lapinette ambled through the arcade, sheltering from a hot, dry wind that scooped dust and hurled it against shop windows. The Wabbit coughed and slapped his coat. The dust was everywhere - a red speckled dust that gouged bricks one by one. "This is ghastly," said Lapinette. "Just the Sirocco," said the Wabbit. All the same, his nose wrinkled. The Sirocco was relentless and it blew hot air through a cold day. Everyone was twitchy. The wind made children cry and grown men weep. It engraved glass as it passed and bartenders gave up on polishing. Lapinette tucked a paw into the crook of the Wabbit's arm and found the Wabbit's paw was on his automatic. "Emergency time?" she murmured. "It's always emergency time," said the Wabbit. He ran his paw over a broken safety catch. Two sudden cracks parted the wind and took the stage. "Nice clean cracks," said the Wabbit softly. "That's quite a wind," breathed Lapinette. "A wind with artillery?" said the Wabbit. Lapinette looked up - then back. "On the way in, did you see someone fixing the floor?" The Wabbit scuffed a foot in the dust and stared at a prone body. His 28 teeth were smiling but changed quickly into a ragged comb. "He's been laid off." Speckled dust began to shroud the figure. The Wabbit pulled Lapinette's paw gently in the direction of a store. "Let's find some fancy scarves and information."

The Wabbit and the Carrot Funcation

The Wabbit had one more thing to take care of before his Staycation was over. He had agreed to perform with Lovely Lapinette and the joint was jumping. So he jumped on stage and grooved, while Lapinette smooched and patted her ears. Jazz funk music was driving hard and for a while so did the Wabbit. Then he stopped and fished out a harmonica from his fur. Its wail cut across the music but the band paid no attention and funked on. "I'm funkin' on down, to New Orleans," chanted the Wabbit. Lapinette pouted and sang in a cut glass accent. "Smelling of whisky and old blue jeans." "Funk it!" said the Wabbit. "Funk it," called Lapinette and she patted her ear in a Gilda fashion. It was impossible to ignore the driving rhythm. The band was a funky train and it just kept rolling. "What you got on board?" shouted the drummer, sternly. The Wabbit suddenly grinned. "We got a funk load of carrots," he yelled, "let us through!" "Funky carrots!" yelled Lapinette, "out of our way!" For a moment the Wabbit's harmonica did sound like a train load of carrots coming down the track. "We only got carrots," breathed Lapinette. "Then you got nothing to pay," shouted the drummer. The music drove on like an express. Then suddenly Lapinette turned and yelled, "We fooled you, we fooled you, we got celery. All celery." The audience cheered, the music faded and the Wabbit, Lapinette and the band made their bows. "How do you feel?" asked the Wabbit. "Completely funked," said Lapinette.
[Thanks to Allen Weber, Hot Shock, for the suggestion and background photograph.Buy Allen's music at CDBaby ]

The Wabbit at the Adventure Caffè

The Wabbit and Lapinette arrived to find Skratch the Cat and Wabsworth in heated debate. "No Wabsworth," said Skratch, "the story within a story is as old as Odysseus himself." Ghost Bunny fluttered across the tables and finding no-one to haunt, eavesdropped. Wabsworth waved a paw in dismissal. "The inside story guides us to the attributes of the characters, because the outside story has no plot." Lapinette nudged the Wabbit and dragged him to a table. "My staycation is over," frowned the Wabbit, "it was never supposed to have a plot." Skratch turned to greet them both. "OK Wabbit, then it's your turn to say what kind of an Adventure that was." The Wabbit grinned a big grin. "Its function was to disclose the background of characters to the audience, somewhat like Odysseus." Ghost Bunny fluttered and wailed. "The Wabbit met ghouls, sea serpents and shadows without bodies." Lapinette chipped in. "And he used tricks," "And culinary explosives," murmured Wabsworth. "All very colourful," smiled Skratch. "I met your long lost distant cousin by the way." The Wabbit had nearly forgotten about trying to stay incognito - and was embarrassed by his deception. Lapinette covered for him. "That was a test of the Wabbit's wearable technology app." "I knew it was you Wabbit," said Skratch, "because you suddenly disappeared." The Wabbit looked furtive. He swiped his app and his ears vanished. "I'm taking that away," said Lapinette.

11. The Wabbit and the Jolly Vampires

Around the corner, the Wabbit and Ghost Bunny awaited developments. They didn't have to wait too long. Light spilled onto the street and with it came three merry figures, They were very merry indeed, having come from an extensive dinner and their cries rattled the rooftops, "Who are they?" asked Ghost Bunny. "These," smiled the Wabbit, "are the Three Jolly Vampires," and he explained. Unlike most vampires, the three had given up on orthodox vampirism. They liked bright lights and happily feasted on exotic wild garlic, but their shadowless appearance gave them dreadful anguish. Now was the moment. The Shadows from Pluto suddenly sprang and it took but an instant for them to attach to the vampires. The jolly figures looked down in amazement. They twisted and turned but the shadows were firmly affixed and danced in the street, hauling the vampires with them. "We have our very own shadows," cried a vampire gleefully, "You'll never, ever get rid of us," cried the shadows. Ghost Bunny fluttered up and down. "Wabbit, how did you know the Three Jolly Vampires would be here?" "This is where they dine," said the Wabbit, laughing, "but now I'm feeling a little peckish myself." "I need a drink," said Ghost Bunny. And together both the Wabbit and Ghost Bunny melted into the night ...

10. The Wabbit and the Object Hotel

The Wabbit hopped forcefully from the Metro with the shadows following close behind. It only took a swipe of his wearable technology application to give him an idea and his paws were guided to a suitable location. There he found Ghost Bunny hovering over a hotel sign that cast a red neon glow around the hallowed entrance below. The Wabbit stopped and waved his paw like a tour guide. "I've known this place for many years," he announced. His shadow charges made an eerie sound so the Wabbit continued. "Often, I saw guests emerge who had no shadow and who seemed in desperate need of one." The shadows wailed painfully in desire and the Wabbit waved his paw in a kind of blessing. "So here are your objects and your salvation." The shadows wailed once more. "Perhaps they won't want us as their shadows." The Wabbit shook his head. "Don't ask. Merely attach yourselves. In all likelihood they won't know at first." The shadows murmured, "What then?" "Ah," smiled the Wabbit, "then you're stuck with each other and you have to work out an accommodation between you." "Can't we be your shadow?" pleaded the leading shadow. Now the Wabbit laughed. "I already have my own shadow and one is quite enough." A blood curdling shriek from Ghost Bunny alerted the Wabbit to approaching guests. "Now," said the Wabbit, "let's see which objects have no shadow ..."
[The Hotel Dogana Vecchia is a well appointed hotel in Turin. Located in the historical district, it is possibly the oldest in the city.]

9. The Wabbit & Shadows of the Object

The Wabbit swiped his new app and his eyes flashed brightly and stayed bright. "I am your destiny," he growled, "Follow me." Then the Wabbit moved past the shadows without acknowledgement and hopped into the tunnel. "State your crimes, by the way," called the Wabbit. His voice echoed from the walls. The shadows wailed. "Our only crime is that we separated from our objects." The Wabbit did not reply and he hopped along the rails without a backward glance. "Wabbit," whispered Ghost Bunny. "Their objects don't want them back." The Wabbit nodded - but he kept going and the shadows followed. "Supposing I found you new objects." The Wabbit's tone was clipped and even Ghost Bunny felt nervous. The shadows wailed eerily along the tracks. "Great One, truly you are the Wabbit of whom they speak." Points snicked in the distance. Ghost Bunny fluttered close to the Wabbit and communicated telepathically. "What's the plan, Great One?" The Wabbit silently replied. "They want objects, we give them objects." Ghost Bunny floated and thought. She had no idea what these objects might be and probably neither did the Wabbit. But she could see he was thinking. Now the Wabbit's voice was sharp. "I would find you a new object world requiring shadows. Alas, I'm on my holidays." The shadows howled in disappointment as the Wabbit wheeled round to face them. He hissed and paused. "Luckily you have my interest ..."

8. The Wabbit and the Shadow of Pluto

The Wabbit and Ghost Bunny tracked the sounds to the Metro. Ghost Bunny's portal to Pluto had shifted location and things were buzzing. The Wabbit swiped his wearable technology app and pushed his head through the force field. Ghost Bunny did the same, although strictly speaking she didn't have to. On the other side, Lapinette's personal guard was engaged in a firefight and looked under pressure. They fired and fired but shadows advanced with menacing shrieks.  "What kind of Binky is this on my holiday?" muttered the Wabbit. Ghost Bunny swirled hazily through the force field. "The Shadows of Pluto," she whispered, "they're supposed to be in permanent custody." "What for?" mused the Wabbit. "Crimes against light" said Ghost Bunny. The Wabbit growled, "Then they mustn't get through," and he burst through the field. Tipsy fired a steady stream of rounds to minimal effect and yelled, "Commander, you're on staycation, Hop back through the portal immediately!" The Wabbit dusted his fur. "Certainly not." Fitzy signalled to the Wabbit. "Sheeps' shiblets, Commander, that's an order." The Wabbit smiled heartily. "I'm freelancing." The shadows got closer. "Halt," said the Wabbit. The shadows stopped and one of them spoke. "Are you the rabbit that is "Yet to Come?" The Wabbit's 28 teeth looked like a sharp comb. "Consider me arrived."

7. The Wabbit and the Invited Ghost

Now the Wabbit was really enjoying his break. So he headed to Pluto Park where he knew he'd run into one of his friends. He hopped up and down and all around the iron towers whilst whistling a happy tune. Nothing happened and all was quiet. He wondered whether he was whistling loud enough and doubled his efforts. Then he heard what he was waiting for. It was like whistling too, but spooky. It got louder and louder and eventually Ghost Bunny fluttered down to greet the Wabbit. "I came to haunt your holiday." The Wabbit pretended to flinch. "Proceed," he nodded. Suddenly the air was full of spectres, coming and going and shouting,"Alarm! Frighten! Scare!" The Wabbit saluted heartily. "A terrifying display. Thank you." Everyone in the Wabbit's team was quite aware that Ghost Bunny was in love with the Wabbit, and that she had been ever since she followed him back from Pluto. In turn, they also knew of the Wabbit's deep affection for Ghost Bunny. He held out a paw. "Boo!" said Ghost Bunny. "Alarmed to meet you," replied the Wabbit. "You're just saying that," said Ghost Bunny, coyly. The Wabbit laughed. "I'd be too scared to trick you." "Wabbit, are you enjoying your staycation?" asked Ghost Bunny. "Things are just a little too quiet around here," smiled the Wabbit. At that moment there was a strange noise in the distance. Then another just like it. The Wabbit and Ghost Bunny looked at each other and grinned, "Trouble ..!"

6. The Wabbit and Dinosaur Funding

The Wabbit disembarked and hopped the quay. Wabsworth hurried towards him. "Sorry to disturb you during your Staycation, Commander!" "All part of the holiday," said the Wabbit brightly. Wabsworth waved an impressive looking bond. "It's your Dinosaur Fund." Wabsworth was breathing heavily for an android and he looked anxious. But nothing could phase the Wabbit on his staycation - not even a curious threshing from the river. He shrugged and waited for an explanation. "Funds passed through Panama and became incredibly soiled," said Wabsworth, "so we routed them for deep cleaning." The Wabbit was cheered. "Where?" he asked. "Loch Ness, Scotland," replied Wabsworth. A bellow echoed along the quay as a dinosaur reared from the river. The Wabbit smiled nonchalantly because anything can happen on a staycation - and he swiped his app. "Is it Nessie?" "Ciamar a tha thu?" said the dinosaur. The Wabbit felt a warm glow from his fur and nodded. "I'm having fun on my staycation." Nessie roared in an impressive fashion. "We forgot to bill you for ironing. We're proud of our personal touch, so I came directly." Wabsworth waved the bond frantically and Nessie snatched it in her jaws and roared. "That will do nicely." Wabsworth frowned. "I insist on a receipt." A receipt fluttered down and the Wabbit tucked it in his fur and gazed up. "How did you get here, Nessie?" Nessie bellowed. "The official channels!"
[Ciamar a tha thu? : Scottish Gaelic. How are you?]

5. The Wabbit and the Familiar Spirits

The Wabbit hardly had time to do anything technically wearable. Monsters appeared from every cranny and soon the ferry was full of them. There was something familiar about the creatures and Wabbit was suitably contemptuous. Besides, he was on his holidays. He plunged a paw into his fur and swiped his app in good faith - but although it it was extensively extensive it did have some limitations where monsters were concerned. The Wabbit didn't care. He grinned and groped for something else, something long forgotten. He located it, pulled it out and threw it. The object exploded in a fine red mist to which the Wabbit was totally impervious. Known as Rabbit's Revenge it was the hottest chilli known to the civilised world. Plastic melted, paint peeled and the surface of the river boiled with a crimson glow. The monsters coughed and spluttered and choked but the Wabbit happily ingested the mist and declared it delicious. He was having a wonderful time. If monsters came close he merely breathed at them and they recoiled, whimpering, to the far side of the boat. He tried that several times but eventually he got bored and pushed them overboard. For a while he watched, as one by one they sank under the launch and disappeared. He swiped his wearable technology app and his fur told him he was having fun. The Wabbit's 28 teeth pulled back in an expression of pure delight. But he couldn't help checking the hour. "Time flies when you're enjoying yourself," chortled the Wabbit.