7. The Wabbit and the Agents of FAN

The Wabbit escaped from hospital with stolen medication and bandages. The knock on his head left with him some kind of sixth sense, so it wasn't hard to find the team. But the team had already spotted unusual goings-on. A giant Wabbit towered above the buildings, surrounded by chanting fans who seemed familiar, but weren't what they seemed. "I am the authentic Wabbit and no other Wabbit precedes me," boomed the giant Wabbit. The fans were delirious. "Blessed be the Wabbit! Blessed be!" The giant Wabbit lifted a paw. "I am the Wabbit of the past, the future and a bit later on." Lapinette dug Skratch gently in the ribs and whispered. "That thing does sound like the Wabbit." "He put on weight," quipped Skratch, "it's the hospital food." Lapinette sniffed and in her mind she could see her Wabbit. "You're supposed to be resting," she thought. The Wabbit heard it. "I was bored," he murmured. "That's no excuse," thought Lapinette. The Wabbit tried to control his enhanced power and projected it at the giant Wabbit. Its paw flailed wildly and a booming staccato echoed from the walls. "Wab wab wab wabbit." "Wab wab wab wabbit," yelled the fans. "Bitty bit bit bit bitwab," slurred the giant Wabbit. "Bitwab"" roared the throng. "Now seek out sustaining sustenance," boomed the giant Wabbit, "but keep one tenth for The Wabbit." As the fans departed, Skratch looked bemused. "He's very fair for a giant."

6. The Search for the Perpetrator

There was no shortage of volunteers to look for the culprit and Lapinette balanced on Susan's wing as she sped to Lingotto. "How's the Wabbit?" asked Skratch the Cat. "Complaining," shouted Lapinette. Wabsworth grimaced. "When I get the perpetrator, I'll rip his stem from his stern." "We haven't got one yet," yelled Lapinette. "I want ideas!" Susan's engine whined, chugged and rattled as she raced close above the tracks. Skratch gripped the fuselage and looked for clues. "What about enemies?" Wabsworth shook his head. "The city is full of Wabbit fans dressed as enemies." Lapinette shouted through the wind. "What about the Fanbots?" "They're citizens," shrugged Wabsworth. "I'm guessing a malignant voyeur." The wind tore at Skratch's fur and he screamed to make himself heard. "Anyone missing? Someone we've forgotten." A train shrieked past. The noise was unbearable but Skratch's eyes were keen and he jerked round. "I think I saw something." Lapinette grabbed a strut and turned. "What kind of something?" Skratch hissed and arched his back like a wildcat. "Something isn't right. Wabsworth. Can you land Susan here?" "I can very well land myself," snorted Susan and she flew vertically upwards, twisted in the air and dived. Everyone except Wabsworth gasped in the g-forces. "Bank angle, bank angle," shouted Susan, "stall, stall, stall!" "Is she always like this?" gulped Skratch. "Invariably," sighed Wabsworth.

5. Touch and Go for the Wabbit

The Wabbit stared down. He could see his body in the wreckage and he could hear voices. "Clear!" The Wabbit wasn't feeling clear at all. The voices were shouting. "What's your name?" Suddenly the Wabbit saw himself signing autographs at Wabbit-Con. But the more he signed his name, the less he could remember it. "Clear!" There it was again. The Wabbit watched as he signed Clear on a programme. "We're losing him. Again!" The Wabbit felt a shudder and the voices got louder. "Do you know where you are?" The Wabbit saw his younger self hopping along a stony beach. "Loch Lomond," he murmured. He heard a flat electronic whine that just wouldn't stop. "He's gone," said a voice. The Wabbit watched himself hop into the loch. "Epinephrine. Stat!" The Wabbit sank beneath the water. The loch felt cold and tangles of weed stretched out to grasp his paws. "Again. Clear!" The Wabbit looked up through water that shimmered with a clear green light. Now he made out a quiet voice. "It's over." "No," said another. Something whacked his body with the force of a water cannon and he reached for the surface and kicked. The Wabbit gasped and spluttered as faces swam between him and the light. "Welcome back, Commander." The Wabbit blinked. Everyone was looking down at him. "What's up?" said the Wabbit. "Is it my turn to buy drinks?"

4. The Wabbit and a Touch of Menace

Inside the Main Hall, special guests gathered for the preview of Wabbit Con. "Ah Wabsworth," said the Wabbit, I hope I'm on that list." Wabsworth waved his clipboard. "My list is blank. I'll write you in and you can be first." The Wabbit smiled and viewed the hall. "I must say the Department has done well." Lapinette agreed but did not say she had routed cash from the Wabbit's Dinosaur Fund to pay for refreshments. The Wabbit relaxed and watched adventure stills on the big screen. But through light jazz playing from the sound system, drifted a conversation between two fans dressed as Lapinette. "Where are you from, darling?" "Los Angeles, honey." "How fabulous. I'm from London." "I love London. Say, can you hear a ticking?" "No, it must be part of the music." "Well it's going right through my head." The Wabbit swung and tuned his ears to fans dressed as Ice Mice. "I do like jazz," said one, "but the percussion isn't right." "Do you mean that ticking?" "Yes, I can't get rid of it. It's all I can hear." The Wabbit turned to Lapinette. "Have you got a ticking noise?" Lapinette frowned and listened hard. "It sounds like an oven timer." The Wabbit sprung in the air and yelled at the top of his voice. "Free aperitivi in the basement!" In the stampede that followed, he pushed Lapinette under the jeep. The Wabbit heard the roar and saw the flash before everything went black ...

3. The Wabbit and Wabbit-Con

Lapinette had dragged the Wabbit for a hop to the Medieval Castle, but it was more crowded than usual. "Passes please!" said a familiar voice. "What in the Binky for?" growled the Wabbit. "You have to have a pass," said Skratch the Cat, "or you can't come in." Lapinette grinned maliciously. "It's for Wabbit-Con. Your fans are arriving from all over." The Wabbit looked all around. "No-one tells me a thing." "It's a Department PR initiative," said Lapinette. "Then I don't need a pass," said the Wabbit, "because I'm the Wabbit." Skratch scrutinised the Wabbit from ears to toe. "How do I know you're the real Wabbit? You might be a fan." "Then how do I know you're the real Skratch?" frowned the Wabbit. "Because today I'm the Cat's Pyjamas," said Skratch. The Wabbit spoke loudly. "I order you to let me in." "No pass, no admission," said Skratch, as he casually nodded a Wabbit fan through. The Wabbit hopped in fury and yelled, "I can prove I'm the Wabbit!" "OK," said Skratch, "let's have it." The Wabbit thought. "I'm the one that sent you to film classes." Skratch smiled an annoying smile. "Everyone knows that - and it's in the journalist press pack." "Oh all right," sighed the Wabbit, "I'll buy a pass." "Pre-orders only," said Skratch, "available from the Pet Shop in Corso Svizzera." The Wabbit scowled, jumped and shrugged at exactly the same time. Skratch glanced at Lapinette. "He just might be the Wabbit." Lapinette pulled an extra pass from her fur. "I'll make sure he behaves." "If you can do that," laughed Skratch. "he's not the Wabbit."

2. The Wabbit & the Pure Hop FanBots

The Wabbit and Wabsworth headed for the tram, but when it came to a halt, green FanBots flooded out. The Wabbit sighed. "You know everything about this, Wabsworth, don't you?" "I'm an android with a mammoth memory," said Wabsworth. "Then who?" asked the Wabbit tersely. Wabsworth paused and a smile flickered across his face. "These are Pure Hop FanBots." The Wabbit shook his head and murmured, "Why?" Wabsworth kept an eye on the FanBots' approach and elaborated. "The FanBots of the Pure Hop Tendency do not approve of the status quo." "Well, Qui, Quo, Qua," flounced the Wabbit. Wabsworth paid no attention and continued. "The Pure Hoppers are coming to WabbitCon to protest." The Wabbit's eyes rose so high they reached his ears. "They do not consider you a personality, Commander," said Wabsworth. "You are the Liberator who will lead them to the Promised Hay." "I will not," moaned the Wabbit, "I'm busy." "Excuse me," said a Pure Hopper, "that is a good costume and you wear it well." The Wabbit clenched his paws and tried very hard to be civil. "Thank you," he nodded. The FanBot looked up. "But the lettering isn't quite right." Wabsworth detected the start of a low growl, so he interrupted. "It's nearly Ferragosto Holiday and all the costumiers are on vacation." The FanBot whirred his fan. "Where can we find the Great Leader?" "He took a small vacation," snapped the Wabbit.
[In Italy, Qui, Quo and Qua are Donald Duck's nephews, Huey, Dewey and Louie.]

1. The Wabbit and the FanBots

"There they are now," said Wabsworth. "Don't turn round, they'll spot us." The Wabbit tried not to look. "Who did you say they were?" "They're FanBots." said Wabsworth. The Wabbit looked quizzical. "What kind of FanBots?" Wabsworth sighed a deep sigh. "They're your FanBots actually. And so they're mine too - by default." The Wabbit squeezed his eyes to slits and turned slightly. "What the Binky are they doing?" Wabsworth had been quick to investigate. "They're coming to Wabbit-Con and they're desperate to even glimpse you." The Wabbit shuddered but Wabsworth continued. "They worship the very ground you hop on." "Tell me it isn't true," groaned the Wabbit. But Wabsworth was the Wabbit's android double and he was keen on the truth. "They know everything about you. Everything." At that moment a FanBot called out. "Hello fellow fans! Can you tell us where the Wabbit eats?" The Wabbit adopted a funny voice and, without hesitation, named an establishment he hated. "The Wabbit eats at a sausage restaurant in Mirafiore." A FanBot came close and his voice shook. "You ... look so much like the Wabbit." "We're big fans," shrugged the Wabbit. "Perhaps His Wabbitness is nearby!" shouted a FanBot and they scurried around, looking. Wabsworth intervened. "You will never find the Wabbit." The FanBots looked distraught and moaned gently. Wabsworth gestured to thin air. "The Wabbit will find you."

The Wabbit, Lapinette and Old Times

The Wabbit's paw snuck into Lapinette's and she smiled. "Looks like we're hopping down the very same street." "On the sunny side," laughed the Wabbit. "I prefer my streets sunny side up," said Lapinette. "As do I," nodded the Wabbit. Lapinette hopped with delight. "Do you remember when we first met?" The Wabbit was tentative. "I do," he said, "but it was dark." "That," said Lapinette, "was because you were locked in a luggage locker at the rail terminal." The Wabbit smirked slightly. "I was protecting stolen goods as valuable evidence." Lapinette hopped, skipped and giggled. "You locked yourself in and you'd still be there if it wasn't for my swift intervention." The Wabbit caught a mental glimpse of his skeletal remains. "It was all under control." Lapinette fluttered her eyes. "Your radio had no batteries and there was a railway strike." "Mmm," murmured the Wabbit. "Then it was just as well you had a fur dresser's appointment there." Lapinette thought for a second. "I've still got the scissors I borrowed to lever the hinges." "Are they the ones with the red handles?" asked the Wabbit. "Puce," replied Lapinette. The Wabbit looked relieved because he regularly used bent scissors to prise open containers. "Anyway, what did we get up to after that?" "We had adventures," shrugged Lapinette. "How many, would you say?" queried the Wabbit. Lapinette was emphatic. "A thousand."

The Wabbit's Adventure Caffè

The team gathered and waited for Skratch the Cat. Eventually he hove into sight with a giant wave and a shout. "Now what was that for a rip roaring adventure?" "It was detectively woofy," said Arson Fire, the Greyhound. Lapinette giggled and looked at the Wabbit. "You think you're Sam Spade?" The Wabbit effected a drawl. "I kept putting two and two together but there were so many twos I stopped counting." Skratch meaowed pleasantly. "It wasn't about the money and it wasn't about the gold." Wabsworth looked across at the Wabbit. "So what was it about?" "It was about the journey," said the Wabbit. Wabsworth looked disappointed. "So the Dinosaur Fund made nothing?" The Wabbit smirked. He drew a shiny object from his fur and set it on the table. "I wouldn't say that exactly." Now Skratch pounced. "I knew it. You kept the Bratwurst Bullion!" The Wabbit shook his head. "It got stuck in my fur." "I'll take charge of it," said Wabsworth reaching for the Gold Bullion Hot Dog. Lapinette made a mental note. "That's Good Delivery Bullion, even with unorthodox packaging." "Not to mention cooking," barked Arson Fire. "Well, it's all the money I have at the minute," said the Wabbit, and I'm thirsty." Skratch put his paw in his fur and rummaged. "Maybe I can spare five euro for a fellow traveller." The Wabbit's 28 teeth flashed in the sun. "I'll have a carrot aperitivo with sparkling gold flakes please." "So will I," said Lapinette. "And me," said Arson Fire. Wabsworth pulled out a requisition book. "Does that aperitivo have a name?" "Macwabbit's Gold," meaowed Skratch.

13. The Wabbit's Finance Restitution

A clapping of wings heralded Parakalo the Dove. He hurtled to their meeting place from the best blue sky he could arrange at short notice. At exactly the same time, the Wabbit and Lapinette shimmered in from a productive past. Parakalo felt obliged to be formal, so he spread his wings and hovered. The Wabbit opened the bag. "I'm returning what rightfully belongs here." Parakalo cooed softly. "To whom shall I deliver it?" A silence fell and then the Wabbit murmured. "I trust your judgement in the matter." "How much is there?" asked Parakalo. "Enough to run a country for a while," said Lapinette, who had made a careful note of the amount, denominations and serial numbers. "There's only one thing," said the Wabbit with a grimace. Another silence fell. "Money's like a gun," he said. "It smells of its history." Lapinette thought that was very sage but Parakalo merely sniffed. "I can smell hot dogs, Bratwurst to be exact." "So can I," sniffed Lapinette. "It must have got on my fur," sighed the Wabbit. Lapinette was thoughtful. "The Dinosaur Fund got caught up in something smellier than we thought." "The road to smell is paved with good intentions," said the Wabbit. Lapinette gave a wry grin. "But we had to go to smell and back." Parakalo looked serious. "Now the banks have got smell to pay." Then they looked at each other and laughed and laughed.

12. The Wabbit makes Good Time

Just as the Wabbit and Arson Fire jumped on board, Quantum departed. With Captain Jenny on the footplate there were no half measures. Quantum flipped to Slipstream Drive and the city dissolved to a sea of banks and beer cellars. "Let's get out of here?" shrugged the Wabbit. Lapinette watched until things stopped shimmering. "It's our money?" "Sure is," said the Wabbit. "How much?" asked Lapinette. "I haven't counted," said the Wabbit ... and he sniffed. "But there's another smell. It's familar." Arson Fire barked once. "Aaargos." The Wabbit paused because Arson Fire was more than he seemed. "The money smells of Argos, the hound," said Arson. The Wabbit wheeled round and yelled down the corridor. "Set new course 132'." Jenny's voice echoed back. "What day?" "Same time as we left," said the Wabbit. "But where are we going now?" asked Wabsworth. The Wabbit stamped a foot. "We're returning the money that isn't ours." Only Arson Fire appeared to have a clue what on earth was going on and he watched the Wabbit intently. "Wabsworth!" shouted the Wabbit. "Get Parakalo on the blower." "No can do," yelled Jenny from the footplate, "we're in slipstream." The Wabbit sighed. "Drop out, we're still in last week." Quantum's engines whined to a halt and they hung somewhere vague as the Wabbit spoke to Parakalo, the dove. "I wasn't expecting a call, Commander," he cooed, "where are you speaking from?" "Last Tuesday," said the Wabbit.
[Argos is Odysseus faithful dog, a greyhound.]

11. The Wabbit and the Money Kitchen

The Wabbit burst through the door at the top of the stairs. Arson Fire scampered to the far end of the kitchen and maintained a low growl as the Wabbit pointed his automatic at the boss sausage. Two sausage henchmen looked unfazed and continued to launder what money they had. But the boss was furious and he yelled, "Don't you know who I am?" "You're a silly sausage," remarked the Wabbit. He sniffed the air. "You have something of mine." He sniffed again. "and something of someone else too." The boss sausage snarled. "I'm Hit Sausage and it all belongs to me," Arson Fire laughed with a howling that equalled the Hound of the Baskervilles and notes flew around as the Wabbit savagely kicked the bag. "All this money in one container isn't safe but I'll take the risk." He seized the bag and backed towards the door. Hit Sausage started after the Wabbit, but Arson Fire got in his way and bit him on the nose. "Aaagh, get them!" yelled the Boss. But his henchmen were too cooked. "They're the Extra Wurst," shrugged the Wabbit and he fired a few rounds into the ceiling because he thought it might be fun. Together with Arson Fire he barked and barked hs way to the street. Arson Fire slithered to a halt. "Where now Commander?" "We have a train to catch," said the Wabbit. "I'm hungry," said Arson Fire. "You had sausages," laughed the Wabbit. The city echoed to pounding paws, as they vanished with enormous speed. "This bag's heavy," yelled the Wabbit. "We'll buy a trolley," barked Arson Fire.

10. The Wabbit and the Hot Dog Club

It was quieter than expected. Soft piano jazz mixed with a chinking of glasses and money. "Members?" asked the barman with the top hat. "We're temporary," said Arson Fire. "Just passing through," said the Wabbit. The barman puffed at a cigar the size of a sausage. "Check in your hot dogs here." "Grrrrr grrr grrr," snarled Arson Fire. The barman didn't bat an eyelid. "As long as you're here, your money's here." "Just the job!" said the Wabbit. "You can certainly help us. We're looking for a special hot dog consignment." "What kind of special?" asked the barman. "Sentimental value," smiled the Wabbit. He hopped over to the pianist and pulled from his fur the lunch vouchers he'd saved for his vacation. "No elevator music," he whispered. The pianist hit the keys with vigour. "Think I'll come around," he crooned. "... when the money's gone." Arson Fire kept a firm grip of his hot dog and barked at the barman. "Perhaps you saw a hot dog liquidisation?" The barman leaned back. "The Hot Dog Laundry. It books work outings here. The staff like hot dog smoothies." Arson Fire looked at the Wabbit in horror but the Wabbit merely smiled and hopped close to the barman. "What better," he drawled, "than the slow release of hot dog fibre into the bloodstream?" The barman found himself staring at the wrong end of an automatic. "For the sake of your health," said the Wabbit, "tell us where to find the Laundry brigade." The barman merely gestured with his head. "Upstairs ..."

9. The Wabbit and El Dorado's Place

In a less than salubrious location, the Wabbit and Arson Fire approached a premises known as El Dorado. But locals knew it variously as the Golden Handshake, the Golden Digger and the Golden Parachute. The hostess hardly looked at them and effected a special interest in polishing glasses. "Name?" she barked. "Wabbit," replied the Wabbit. The hostess paused. "Going?" The Wabbit frowned and nodded, "inside." The hostess flicked her hair. "Stay?" "Brief, "said the Wabbit. "Hmmph," said the hostess and she turned to Arson Fire. "Name?" "Arse," blinked Arson Fire. The hostess nodded approvingly and spoke gently. "Business?" Arson shook his head. "Pleasure." He blinked some more. "Stay?" asked the hostess, fluttering her eyes. "Indefinite," said Arson. The hostess turned to give the Wabbit a withering glance. "Credit?" The Wabbit was about to say 'cash', but Arson Fire interrupted. "Undated Government Hot Dogs." "Now that," said the hostess, "will do very nicely indeed." She looked from Arson to the Wabbit and then her eyes flicked back. "Are you vouching for the strange furry one?" "I take care of him," said Arson. The hostess nodded again. "Any weapons?" The Wabbit patted his fur and adopted a lop sided grin that usually worked. "Just a Makarov automatic." The hostess smiled for the first time. "You might need it in here ..."

8. The Wabbit and the Golden Sausage

Acting without any particular authority, Jenny, Skratch and Wabsworth seized the Riverboat and sailed to Bamberg to pick up the Wabbit. There the Wabbit searched in his fur, then grabbed the sausage with a pair of cooking tongs. Streams of flame shot from Arson Fire and enveloped it - but nothing happened. The Wabbit nodded. "The sausage is gold all right." "You want hotter heat?" asked Arson Fire." "How hot can you get?" asked Lapinette. "Prrrropane hot," said the greyhound. "Too destructive," said the Wabbit as he peered for markings. And there they were -  999, Frankfurt am Main, 2015. The Wabbit mused. "My Dinosaur Fund got diverted." Lapinette started to hum a song and the Wabbit picked it up. "Gold, Gold, Gold, they just gotta have that gold." Lapinette kept her eyes on the golden sausage. "They'll do anything for gold, won't they?" The Wabbit sniffed and shook his head. "Not this gold." Arson Fire barked suddenly. "Why not?" "Because it still has a trace of Dinosaur Fund." The Wabbit suddenly whacked the gold sausage with his tongs. Sonorous music rang out and played a familiar snatch from Taxman Blues. Now the Wabbit's teeth flashed in a sinister smile. "One thing about gold is - you gotta dig it!" He snapped a paw and laid down the golden sausage to let it cool. "Where to Commander?" called Jenny. "El Dorado?" shrugged the Wabbit.

7. The Wabbit and the Bankers' Run

It all happened in an instant. Without waiting, the Wabbit grabbed the Trophy and Lapinette seized her winnings. Give a Flux, the white greyhound, snatched what he could and Arson Fire tightened his grip on his hot dog. "Run!" shouted the Wabbit and he loped off at speed. "What odds?" gasped the Wabbit. "Hundrrred to One," barked Arson Fire, "can we keep the Trophy? I won it." "It's quite awful," yelled Lapinette. "And it weighs a ton," yelled the Wabbit. Not far behind, Woof Hearted soared through the streets "What's that brrratwurst made of?" he growled. So the Wabbit sniffed, then sniffed again. "It smells ... of my Dinosaur Fund." He knew at that instant what it was - because the Trophy was much too heavy and sturdy for a competition prize. "It's gold," said the Wabbit. "It's probably a Good Delivery Bratwurst," suggested Lapinette. "Look, I'm not a Chinese take away," scoffed the Wabbit. "That's gold bullion to go," replied Lapinette. Even at the Wabbit's considerable velocity, Lapinette could see his brow knit into a ball. "Four hundred golden ounces in the shape of a sausage." The Wabbit clasped the Trophy fiercely to his fur and quickened his pace. "How much do you think?" "Half a million," gasped Lapinette. The Wabbit loped faster. "Let's find some quiet spot." "What then?" asked Arson Fire. "We cook the sausage," said the Wabbit.
[Banker is slang for a greyhound that regularly delivers wins.]

6. The Wabbit & the Bratwurst Trophy

The greyhounds gathered in Nürnberg for the start of the big race. During preparations, they talked of current affairs and the high cost of tripe. But when the Tannoy crackled, they crouched in their starting positions and waited silently. Without warning, smoke burst from Lapinette's automatic and the dogs took off like rockets. Arson Fire belched flame and took a slim lead, but the others gained ground. "It's Arson Fire by a nose, as they go into the far turn," said the Tannoy, "then it's Give a Flux, then Woof Hearted." The Wabbit watched with wry amusement because Arson Fire still had the hot dog between its teeth. "How much did you wager?" asked Lapinette. "Just a flutter," said the Wabbit. "Five euro straight bet on Arson Fire." Lapinette wrinkled her nose. "Treble Forecast ... Arson, Woof then Flux." "How much?" asked the Wabbit. Lapinette smiled as she watched Arson Fire clear the back straight, then chuckled as Woof Hearted charged past Give a Flux. "A month's salary." "Winnings incurred on official Departmental business," shrugged the Wabbit, "are to be submitted with relevant paperwork." "This is a private job," said Lapinette, mentally counting her winnings. The Tannoy boomed.  "Arson Fire first, Woof Hearted second and Give a Flux third." "Bravo," shouted Lapinette and she threw her arms in the air. It was then that the Tannoy crackled. "Owing to a hot dog distraction, the judges are reviewing the race ... "
[Flutter: (UK) A minor bet for amusement. Tannoy: a Scottish trade name, which gave it's name to large space loudspeaker systems ]

5. The Wabbit and a Dog called Fire

On the advice of the Captain, the Wabbit and Lapinette scaled a tall steeple in the suburb of Haarschnitt. There was a chance they might spot Arson Fire, the greyhound. But just as they were about to give up, they heard a snarl and smelled combustion. "Er-ow wow wow. Er ow wow wow," said Arson Fire in with a combination of growls and vowels. The giant hot dog remained clenched in the greyhound's teeth and flame streamed continuously from its rear end. The Wabbit was clueless about what to do next, so he made a strange whistling noise and said, "Here boy." This met with a terrifying snarl as Arson Fire gripped the hot dog tightly. So the Wabbit called across to Lapinette. "What did he say?" Lapinette looked Arson Fire in the eyes then said, "He wants to know if you have any raw green tripe."  Lapinette was often good at strange things and the Wabbit knew better than to ask. "He'd like to know your name, strange furry one," said Lapinette. The Wabbit stared at the greyhound. "Wabsy," he said, "May I call you Arse?" Arson Fire sighed and turned to Lapinette. "I'm in a rrrrrace." "Wow er wow wow ... wow?" asked Lapinette. "The Brrrrratwurst Challenge in Nürrrrrnberg," woofed Arson Fire, "I'm betting on myself to win." "Is that allowed?" barked Lapinette. "It's not barrrred," said Arson Fire, "and I'm going to clean up." "Odds?" Lapinette made a dog sound between her teeth. "No-one knows me," grunted Arson Fire," "I'll get a hundrrrred to one." The Wabbit ran some math and smiled. "Consider us promoters..."

4. The Wabbit and the Riverboat Affair

It was a chilly day in Frankfurt and the wind from the Main ruffled the Wabbit's fur. While Jenny interviewed passengers, Wabsworth spoke quietly to the Captain and relayed conversation directly to the Wabbit. The radio crackled with tales of unusual events and there had been several. But the Captain sounded adamant. "Yes, it was ein Hund," he grumbled. "Didn't have a ticket so I asked the dog to pay right then." Wabsworth gave the Captain an enquiring look and slipped him 2 lunch vouchers. The Captain leaned on the rail and talked. "He wanted to pay with an undated Government hot dog." Wabsworth started back in mock surprise. "Ja," said the Captain, "but I had no change for anything that big." "Where did the dog go?" The Captain thought for a second. "He was for Haarschnitt searching - and I said I'd drop him off," "And did you?" murmured Wabsworth. "Well," said the Captain, "when we got to Haarschnitt, he just jumped off and paddled - with the hot dog in his teeth, yet." Wabsworth pretended to be amazed. "Did this Wunderhund have a name?" "Ja," said the Captain, "and it was ein guter name. His name was Flammen. Arsch in Flammen." "Arson Fire," breathed Wabsworth and he looked up at the Wabbit. The Wabbit made an incomprehensible gesture so Wabsworth shrugged and turned. "One last thing. How much was the Government hot dog worth?" The Captain let out a nautical bellow. "€250 billion." Wabsworth heard a muffled crash as the Wabbit dropped his radio ...

3. The Wabbit and the Smell of Money

The Wabbit sniffed. All his funds were impregnated with a clinging odour and no matter how they transformed, they kept the smell. In a dingy neighbourhood in Amsterdam known as Brievenbus, the team was hot on the spoor. The Wabbit peered suspiciously at the advertising and shook his head. The truck was as Italian as Advocaat and the language was choice. So the Wabbit nodded and Tipsy perked her head above the counter. "Gilt flavour hot dogs please." "We don't have none," said the vendor, "a bunch of German tourists have been and gone and bought the lot." "Oh dear," said Tipsy, "where were they from?" "Frankfurt," said the vendor. "At's where I gets me 'ot dogs." Tipsy's eyes revolved three times. "Look into my eyes," she crooned, "and tell me why any sane Frankfurter would take hot dogs home." The vendor's eyes swirled too. "It was a special delivery and I puts 'em asides and waits." Wabsworth drew close. "Tax office, I demand to see your accounts for the last week!" "I only poor Italiano," said the Vendor. "I no know what you say." "Voglio le ricevute degli hot dog," yelled the Wabbit. The vendor's eyes went blank. Tipsy grabbed a dog eared notebook and flicked through it. "Hot Dog Laundry and Liquidisation, GmbH, Haarschnitt." The Wabbit looked at Tipsy. "How did you get here anyway?" "I'm a stowaway," said Tipsy. "You're working your passage," smiled the Wabbit.
[Brievenbus : Dutch. Letterbox ; Haarschnitt: German. Haircut]

2. The Wabbit and the Time less Taken

The cab door slammed shut. "I need you for a mission, Quantum." The Wabbit figured he could find his missing funds by going back in time. But he wanted to go alone and so alerted no-one, certainly not Quantum the Time Travelling Train. The Wabbit saw the regulator swing and felt engines vibrate - slowly at first, then at speed. Outside, the city warped round the train then streets and buildings flickered past like snow in a blizzard. The Wabbit smiled. He'd expected some trouble - at the very least a demand for a requisition order. "I know you don't like short time hops, Quantum. And this is only a matter of weeks." "I'm all prepared," said Quantum, "So rest easy. It's organised." The Wabbit was nonplussed but Quantum laughed. "The paperwork is done and you'll find it on the windscreen shelf." "We'll have to stop for supplies," said the Wabbit. "Taken care of," said Quantum. "There's a stock of salad sandwiches, coffee and a supply of hard and soft drinks in the fridge." "How the binky did you know?" asked the Wabbit. "The team told me." "The team?" sighed the Wabbit. "Your team," said Quantum. The Wabbit hopped up and down on the footplate. "Where are they now?" "In the dining car," said Quantum. "Who?" demanded the Wabbit. "Lapinette," said Quantum. The Wabbit waited. "... and Skratch and Wabsworth." "Is that the lot?" groaned the Wabbit. "Captain Jenny," added Quantum. The Wabbit smiled and gave up. "They'd better have valid tickets."

1. The Wabbit and the Finance Haircut

The Wabbit and Lovely Lapinette hopped along Corso Raffaello on their way to lunch. "Any news from the Department?" asked the Wabbit. "Not officially," said Lapinette. The Wabbit pondered for a bit. "Trouble?" "Trouble with tassels on," said Lapinette. The Wabbit brightened but Lapinette didn't. "I'm afraid it's your Dinosaur Fund." The Wabbit's face fell. His Dinosaur Fund was strictly unofficial and provided vital resources for unorthodox missions of the Wabbit's choosing. "I'd hoped it was building up again," he said. "It took a haircut," said Lapinette, "but no-one knows where." The Wabbit's brain was churning. "It was delivered to a letterbox in the Netherlands in undated government gilts." "Check," said Lapinette. "From there it was couriered to a sausage company in Frankfurt and liquidised." "The hot dog route," nodded Lapinette. The Wabbit allowed himself a cautious smile. "A digital transfer should have taken it to Donchester Dog Races where Arson Fire was certain to clean up." Lapinette grinned. "He did and the winnings were considerable. They made their way to the London Borough of Rottingfish for overnight deposit." The Wabbit groaned. "Where is it now?" Lapinette pouted. "It's back, what's left of it." "How much?" sighed the Wabbit weakly. "Twelve euro and ten cent," replied Lapinette. "That's not a hair cut, we've been pumped, scalped and dumped," yelled the Wabbit.

9. The Wabbit and Prison Reform

The Wabbit hadn't the faintest idea what to do with the prisoner and he grinned wryly to himself. The Wabbit didn't hold with prisons, because he thought they didn't work. But in a medieval building known only to the Wabbit and close associates, he maintained a detention room. "I hope your treatment has been satisfactory," he announced. The Shaman sighed. His batteries were depleted and he wished he'd used solar cells instead. "Did you enjoy the detention movie of the week?" chirped the Wabbit. "I'm tired of the Great Escape," retorted the Shaman. The Wabbit played with the Force Field switch and made it crackle - which was the full extent of its effectiveness. He had built it in his shed and it simply didn't work. Nonetheless, the Shaman shrank back. So the Wabbit had an idea. "Have you thought of trying show business?" The Shaman shook his head. "You could pull yourself out of your own hat," suggested the Wabbit. The Shaman thought about it. "Is there any money in it?" "You can print your own money," said the Wabbit, "it's really all the rage." "What about flashing lights?" said the Shaman. "You'll have to come with a warning!" laughed the Wabbit and he hopped straight through his force field and sat down. The Shaman watched as the Wabbit showed him three cards, one of them the Queen of Hearts. The Wabbit slowly placed them face down. Suddenly paws and cards blurred, then stopped. "Now," asked the Wabbit, "what happened to the Lady?"

The Wabbit at the Adventure Caffè

"Hello Spider woman," meaowed Skratch the Cat. The Wabbit had invited Skratch to his favourite caffè to listen to his views on their latest adventure. Wabsworth leaned forward. "Wab's the name. Gumshoe's my game." The Wabbit waved to Skratch and drawled. "The cheaper the shaman, the fancier the outfit." Skratch puffed out his chest and laughed. Lapinette crossed her legs and murmured. "I knew it was a film noir, because I was completely in the dark." "As was your audience," purred Skratch, "and I'm still figuring who was telling the truth." He scrutinised all three then thought deeply. "Wabbit, I saw your deceptive reflection, mirrored in the subway walls." He wheeled to face Lapinette. "You were the femme fatale. You were hidden but possibly hiding the truth. Maybe you and the Shaman were together." Wabsworth was next on Skratch's list. "You took the role of narrator but instead of following and explaining, the plot dragged you along." "I ran interference," said Wabsworth proudly. "What about the Shaman?" grinned the Wabbit. Skratch brushed a paw across his chest. "I considered he might be a sham but rejected it. His was rough magic but he was the real deal." Wabsworth rapped the arm of his chair. "He didn't get the antimatter and he didn't get the female." They instantly paused and looked at the Wabbit. "Where is he now ... ?"

8. The Wabbit and the Inside Out

Wabsworth linked paws with the Wabbit and they both chanted. "Nissa nissa nissa nissa." They were relentless. The Shaman collapsed on the station floor and deflated like a bag of old breath. Then something moved inside the cloak as if it was trying to get out. "Chant Wabsworth, chant!" yelled the Wabbit. "Nanna hey, nanna hey, nanna hey ho," chanted Wabsworth and they both hopped from one foot to another. The figure was small but grew every second as the Wabbit and Wabsworth danced round in a never ending circle. Now they could see who the figure was. "Get me out of here! On the double!" yelled Lapinette in a squeaky voice. The Wabbit pulled Wabworth's paw and they went round again. "Etlay erhay ogay! Etlay erhay ogay " Lapinette spun through the air - along with a hat, an assortment of batteries and an impatience at bursting point. "I'll take him apart at the seams!" She landed with a wallop that was far from graceful and turned to look at the remnants of the Shaman. The Wabbit shrugged. So did Wabsworth. "Is she full size now?" whispered Wabsworth. "I never answer questions about size," murmured the Wabbit. Lapinette shook a paw at the costume but the Wabbit looked very suspicious. "Are there any more in there?"   "I heard voices," said Lapinette. Wabsworth gazed enquiringly and Lapinette grinned. "Sounded like the Swingle Singers." The Wabbit's eyes suddenly twinkled. "Let's leave them ..."

7. The Wabbit Chants Down

They reached the comparative safety of the concourse, but the Shaman started to yell. "Now! Give me the antimatter, Wabbit, I know you have it." Wabsworth could only watch. The Wabbit turned, raised raised both paws and chanted. "Nissa nissa nissa nissa." The air cracked with a dreadful roar and from it issued seven demonic wabbits. The Shaman stumbled as they swooped. "Nissa nissa nissa," chanted the Wabbit. The seven circled and dived and the Shaman swiped aimlessly. "I'm not afraid of rabbits!" The station lights dimmed as he tried to draw power - but the seven were merciless and swift. He shrieked as pieces of costume flew from his cloak and he cursed the Wabbit nine times with all his might. "May your paws dissolve!" The Wabbit lowered his paws slowly and spread them wide. "Nissa Gy We Oh," The Shaman's sigh was like a death rattle. Wabsworth watched closely for it looked as if the Shaman was being torn from the inside. The Wabbit raised his paws again. "I command you to obey." The Shaman made one more attempt to break free from the seven, but his stomach sank and his head sagged by such a degree that it threatened to dislodge completely. "Enough," grunted the Shaman in surrender. "Release the soul within," said the Wabbit ...

[Seneca nation chant.  Nissa: moon.  Gy We Oh: Blessed be.  

"May your paws dissolve" is a freely adapted curse from a Roman inscription - Archaological Museum, Bologna]