9. The Wabbit and the Ghost Control

How the Wabbit managed to do what he did, no-one is ever likely to know. Lapinette felt disheveled. Skratch looked on in wonder. The tyre iron continued its trajectory and lay spinning on the floor. The Wabbit arced nonchalantly to his feet and looked directly at Ghost Bunny. Ghost Bunny decided against vanishing and instead shrank to a reasonable size. "You're not in control of this train, Ghost Bunny," said the Wabbit. It was a clipped tone of voice that Lapinette recognised. She shrugged and leaned to inspect her new frock. "Who is?" she asked. Ghost Bunny smiled weakly. "The train is under automatic ghostly control. It's on trial for the Ghost Expo." Lapinette found the rip in her frock and scowled. "Invisible mending," suggested the Wabbit; "I have a woman in Ecclefechan." Lapinette bared her teeth and the air sizzled. Skratch meaowed politely for attention. "How do we stop the train?" "We can't!" said Ghost Bunny. The Wabbit glared. "I can't go riding around all night on ghost trains." Ghost Bunny fluttered hauntingly and mustered the most soothing voice she had. "We have to wait until the ride is over." Lapinette had an idea and held up a paw for attention. "Why don't we pull the alarm lever?" This met a cool reception, but the Wabbit shrugged and hopped forward. "I always wanted to do that .."

8. Lapinette and the Flying Leap

The train gathered speed and Lapinette ran the numbers. If it shifted to slo mo like before, she knew could make it. But it didn't. The train was a searing white arrow as carriages flashed past. She counted and tensed her left leg. The screech of metal on metal was deafening as brakes engaged. The train slowed. Lapinette caught sight of the Wabbit and he was mouthing something. Lapinette didn't have time. "Looks like jump," she thought. A thump from her leg sent her flying. She stuck like glue to a carriage and the train speeded up. A turbulent wind tore at her frock and she heard a rip. "This means war," she muttered. She wedged her paw into a door and pulled. It gave a little. She could hear voices again. "Do you have tyre iron, Skratch?" "I leave all that sort of thing to you, Wabbit." The door opened slightly but it stuck. Lapinette pushed a leg through and with a massive effort dragged the door. It slid towards her. "Simple matter of physics," she thought and she tried to edge along the carriage, but the wind was too much. A paw grabbed at her paw. She stretched and flailed and tried again. The paw suddenly grabbed her ear and pulled. "Aaaaagh!" she yelled. But she was on the floor inside the train and the door was sliding shut. She looked up. "Where's your ticket!" smiled the Wabbit.

7. Lapinette and Trouble in the Tunnel

Lapinette was dreaming - or so she thought. The cold seemed real enough and she shivered in the gloom. She turned to look down a tunnel and saw a light in the distance. The light got bigger and brighter and pushed a wind that tore at her new frock. The light turned into a howl. Her ears blew madly as the wind pressed her against the wall and stole her breath. Suddenly a shriek filled the tunnel. A train hurtled towards her like a rocket, but then with a sigh it glowed and slowed. It was moving like slow motion film and she could catch voices. "... then you can't have a ticket." The conversation was all about a ticket. The train seemed slow but the wind seemed fast. Her ears flailed as she struggled to hear. "Nowhere, nowhere, nowhere!" The haunting voice bounced from the tunnel roof and the rails hissed it back. She could make out what sounded like the Wabbit but his voice was muffled. "Press ... red ..." Lapinette's mind raced. The voice got sharper and she heard it loud and clear. "It's on the box to your right. Not my right, that would be my left." It was definitely the Wabbit. Now she saw the box. She stretched out a paw but the wind blew it around and she couldn't reach the button. The box came loose and moved away from the wall.  Lapinette kicked the button with her foot. The train shuddered to a halt. Lapinette let her foot drop and sighed with relief. Then she screamed. Now the train was coming the other way ...

6. The Wabbit and the Ghost Inspectre

The Wabbit peered into the adjacent carriage. Suddenly Ghost Bunny filled the window. "Woooooh, tickets please!" The Wabbit shrugged and produced his metro pass. "Wabbit," said Ghost Bunny, "This is the Ghost Train. You require a ghostly ticket." She rapped on the window. "You too, Skratch." Skratch didn't have any ticket at all, but that hardly seemed to matter. "I'm not a ghost," sighed the Wabbit. "Then you can't have a ticket," replied Ghost Bunny. "No special offer?" inquired Skratch. Ghost Bunny haunted up and down for a while, then wailed. "Special offers are only available through the Ghost Institute in Via Nizza. And we've sold out." The Wabbit peered behind Ghost Bunny and couldn't make out much. Only fleeting wraith-like figures with hardly any substance. "I can only see shadows," he said. "Oh them," howled Ghost Bunny. "They are spectral commuters, awkward and empty as the worst of your jokes." Skratch smiled to himself. He knew that Ghost Bunny had a thing about the Wabbit and he was therefore being mercilessly teased. "Where does the Ghost Train go?" he ventured. "Nowhere," explained Ghost Bunny. "We don't do destinations." "So what might it say on a ticket?" asked the Wabbit. "Round Trip to Nowhere" shrieked Ghost Bunny. "And how much does it cost?" asked Skratch. "Nothing," laughed Ghost Bunny.

5. The Wabbit and the Last Metro

The doors whooshed shut. Skratch and the Wabbit grabbed rails as the train took off with a siren wail and shot down the tunnel at enormous speed. The Wabbit's 28 teeth clattered. Skratch's tail spiked out like a porcupine. "Maybe the driver's late for supper?" suggested Skratch - although he very well knew the whole system was automatic. The Wabbit hardly needed to shake his head; it was shaking like a shirt in a hurricane. He smiled nonetheless. The loudspeaker system crackled into life with a spectral voice. "This is the last Metro to the end of the line. Passengers not travelling to the end of the line, should get off the train now." The Wabbit wanted to laugh but his stomach revolved like a spin drier. The speakers crackled again. "We wish to apologise for the speed of the train. This is due to a motor malfunction and braking failure." The train gathered more speed. The noise became unbearable. Stations flashed by in an instant. The Wabbit drew close to Skratch and shouted in his ear. "Do you believe any of this?" Skratch counted his nine lives usage and came to twelve. His shrug looked like hip hop and his grip on the passenger rail was a Lindsay Kemp mime. "You know any good prayers?" he asked. The Wabbit tried to oblige. His teeth chattered wildly. "Bless this journey that we undertake. Do thou guard and protect us." Skratch sighed. "Wabbit, there is no guard." Suddenly the train slowed and a ghostly voice issued from the speakers. "Wabbit, you're not supposed to be on the Ghost Train ..."

4.The Wabbit and the Suspended Wait

The Wabbit squinted at the display on the metro platform. It flickered and died. He planned on catching the last train from Paradise and it had proved a long wait. "I seem a long long way from Paradise," mused the Wabbit thoughtfully. The Wabbit had read all the advertising on the platform and even ventured to the other platform to see if they were any different. He'd counted the steps on the escalator, which proved difficult - although not impossible. He'd even pressed the emergency red button but the system was automatic and seemed to know he was wasting time. His ears pricked up. He could hear a distant meowing and didn't bother to turn. It was unmistakably Skratch, and what he was doing there was anyone's guess. "Wabbit! Wabbit!" shouted Skratch. "The service is suspended. There's no last train." The Wabbit shook his head, because he could hear something else. The display flickered back and stated a train was approaching. The Wabbit glanced to his right. Air pushed a chocolate wrapper along the tracks and it danced a merry jig. "Skratch!" shouted the Wabbit, "that must be false news. The train's coming!" Skratch leaped to the Wabbit's side. "The Carabinieri told me on the way in. I came to get you. We'll take the bus." The Wabbit knew the likelihood of a 36 at this time of night was slim - but suddenly a train drew into the station and doors hissed open. They looked at each other and boarded. Doors hissed shut and the train departed. "There's something weird about this train," murmured the Wabbit ...

3. The Wabbit and the Denied Delivery

The Wabbit waited near the station all day for the carrots and was about to give up. He'd made various inquiries, all to no avail. The carrots were a special delivery for the Carrot Club annual dinner and he was in charge of ensuring they arrived promptly. Wabsworth's voice startled him. "You gave me a fright," said the Wabbit. "Are you waiting on the carrots?" asked Wabsworth. "Yes," sighed the Wabbit. "They'll be along shortly," replied Wabsworth. "I've been here since the crack of dawn," said the Wabbit. Wabsworth was the Wabbit's android double and knew him well. "You can't predict carrot arrivals." "She said she'd be here," moaned the Wabbit. "Who?" asked Wabsworth." "The Grand Daucus," said the Wabbit. "Perhaps her train is late?" suggested Wabsworth. The Wabbit shrugged twice. "Would you like to try this carrot?" asked Wabsworth. The Wabbit took the carrot and tasted it. "It's nice," he said, "but it's not the Promised Carrot." Wabsworth took it back, stuck it in his fur and murmured, "Let's be on the alert." There was silence except for the sound of trams on wet rails. "I remember my first carrot," said the Wabbit suddenly. "What did it taste like?" asked Wabsworth. "Carrot," replied the Wabbit. Wabsworth dug out the carrot and wiped it on his fur. "Let's finish it." The Wabbit took the carrot, ate it and smiled. "I'll never forget that carrot." "Neither will I," scowled Wabsworth.
[Roughly adapted from Waiting for Godot by Samuel Beckett. (Scene 1 - The Carrot Scene)]

2. The Wabbit and the Big Surprise

The Wabbit had another long wait. It was several hours since Lapinette went shopping and there was nothing else for it to lope around with intent. He'd been to the bookshop, two museums and the market. He'd been to the station to look at the trains. He went up on the tethered air balloon and looked down on the city to try and see Lapinette. Finally he'd watched a football match on television in a shop window. Just when he'd begun to think she'd never arrive, Lapinette hopped into the square wearing a brand new frock. "Wow!" said the Wabbit, "that's splendid!" Lapinette pirouetted. "I got in the Scottish shop." "I didn't know there was a Scottish shop," gasped the Wabbit. "It's new," said Lapinette. "There are kilts, sporrans, sgian dubhs and claymores." The Wabbit's jaw dropped several centimeters. "They've got haggis, herring in oatmeal, black buns and porridge." "No Irn Bru?" asked the Wabbit. "There's Irn Bru beer," said Lapinette with glee. The Wabbit reeled. "Music?" he asked. Lapinette was waiting for that one. "Pipe bands, Shetland fiddles, traditional folk and Scottish modern jazz!"  The Wabbit hopped up and down. "Where is this place?" You'll never find it," said Lapinette. The Wabbit felt the fabric of Lapinette's kilt and raised an eye in approval. "It's out in Sassi," said Lapinette finally. "Ah," said the Wabbit with a knowledgeable smile, "Nessie lives out there. What's the shop called?" "The Comfy Kilt Ceilidh," said Lapinette.

1. The Wabbit and the Long Wait

The Wabbit and Lapinette waited for Skratch to emerge from the cinema. He was attending a screening of Andy Warhol's 'Empire', and no-one knew when it finished. The Wabbit stuck his paws in his fur and whistled aimlessly. He was between adventures and Lapinette knew he found that frustrating. She stretched out a paw and pushed him a little since he seemed to have gone into a trance. "Penny for them?" she whispered. "Oh, sorry, Lapinette," said the Wabbit. "I was just recalling when I saw that film." "All eight hours and five minutes?" she asked. "Longer," said the Wabbit sadly; "I took sandwiches - which was just as well, because the projectionist ran it at the wrong speed." Lapinette grimaced. "I'd rather see Night Cleaners," "So would I," smiled the Wabbit. "I've got some blank leader film, we could watch that instead." Lapinette laughed and laughed. Then the Wabbit became animated. "Any news from the Department?" "Nothing" said Lapinette. "No sign of an adventure?" asked the Wabbit. "Not a dicky bird," said Lapinette. An unexpected breeze blew through the arcade and ruffled their fur. "The wind of change?" speculated the Wabbit. "Let's throw caution at it," smiled Lapinette. The breeze vanished as quickly it came. Lapinette's radio crackled. Following a brief interchange, Lapinette turned to the Wabbit "What sort of adventure would you like next?" "Chunky with bright colours," replied the Wabbit.
[The film Night Cleaners is a key experimental British documentary, said to be poorly received by its subjects.]

The Wabbit at his Adventure Caffè

"Is that seat for me?" asked Peggy. Skratch frowned. "It's for our readers, so that they can feel part of the action." I don't think they'll mind," laughed Lapinette. Peggy fluttered onto the spare seat and settled down. "What sort of Adventure were we just in?" she asked. "My goodness, you catch on quickly, Peggy," said Wabsworth. "Why don't you tell us?" meaowed Skratch. "Blow your whistle," added the Wabbit. "I will," trilled Peggy, "It presented a concrete intelligible space in which the spectator was created by the narrative." "Wow," said Wabsworth. Skratch shook his head. "You're thinking of Hitchcock, where form is quite indissoluble from content." Lapinette butted in. "Isn't cine-structuralism all discredited now?" The Wabbit aimed a kick under the table, missed and spluttered that the development of theory had become as restricted as political discourse itself. "Things have gone down the hill," sighed Wabsworth. Skratch purred for a long time. "Perhaps we're the only creatures keeping theory alive." "That calls for a drink," said the Wabbit. He shouted to the waiter. "Please bring menus such that we theoretical heroes might subject them to a syntagmatic analysis." "Subito!" said the waiter, disappearing into the restaurant. "I think we're a hostage to our own hegemony," said Wabsworth. "You're right there, Wabsworth," sighed the Wabbit. Peggy fluttered her pegs. "Anyone like to buy a complete set of Cahiers du Cinema?" "How much?" yelled Skratch.

8. The Wabbit and the Explanation

With the truck back where they found it, the Wabbit was desperate for an explanation. "Peggy," he said; "What do you do with all the stuff you buy and where the Binky do you put it?" Peggy took them on a walk that led through the market to an old building - and she pointed to a colourful sign that said "Peace." Skratch the Cat went over to the door and peered in. "It's full of things, Wabbit," he shouted. "What kind of things?" yelled the Wabbit. "All sorts of useful things," replied Skratch. Peggy ruffled her pegs. "People flog me things and I bring it all here." Lapinette began to understand. "It's an organisation for charity!" Peggy flapped her wings and nodded. "It's for the homeless, the immigrants, the unemployed - all the poor people that have no stuff." Now the Wabbit got it. But there was one more thing he didn't grasp. "Why don't you just give them money?" Peggy looked at him in astonishment. "That would be no fun for a bird like me. Anyway, I'm helping people recycle their stuff." The Wabbit still looked puzzled but Peggy was adamant. "If they sell things to me, they don't really need them." Skratch the Cat continued to look in the doorway and he yelled out. "It's true, Wabbit. People keep far too much stuff they don't need any more, stuff other people need." The Wabbit suddenly grinned an enormous grin with all of his 28 teeth. "Peggy, you're a Saint!" Peggy fluffed up her pegs and sang. "There'll be stuff for every creature. When the Saints go marching in."

7. The Wabbit and a Hasty Departure

The truck flew down the road with the Wabbit at the wheel. He was smirking and that made Lapinette nervous. He made more speed and the houses seemed to fly past. "There's another!" shouted Lapinette. Skratch stretched out a paw and calmly batted a Skuttle away. It burped as it went and he watched it tumble onto such sidewalk as there was in Casorzo. "Take that for your trouble," he purred. The truck rattled on, but Lapinette was waiting for something and she looked back. Suddenly the sky went red and a dull boom shook the windows. She turned to look at the Wabbit. The Wabbit shrugged and grinned. "Too much ethanol?" asked Lapinette. "Just enough," said the Wabbit; "Old wine, vapour and a spark." "Kaboom," said Skratch stoically. For once Peggy was quiet. Lapinette nudged her. "Anything to flog?" said Peggy with a weak croak. "I have something," smiled the Wabbit. He took a corner at speed and they all clung on. Peggy remained quiet. "Oh Peggy, I'll ask," said Lapinette. "Wabbit, what do you have?" "Well," said the Wabbit. "I have a red second hand truck - possibly stolen and subsequently treated badly." Peggy remained quiet, but Lapinette touched a wing gently. "Deal?" "No deal," said Peggy, "we have to put it back." Skratch began to meaow. "In my old days ..." Lapinette pointed a paw. "We don't want to know about your misspent youth, Skratch." But Peggy wanted to know. "Skratch - did you buy and sell?" "I was in the acquisition business," purred Skratch.

6. The Wabbit and the Skuttles' Desire

Lapinette waved the Skuttles out and they fell on Peggy's wine like a pack of wolves. "Spo-de-ode!" they cried. But one looked around. "This place looks familiar." The rest didn't care and they tried unsuccessfully to open the flasks. "Who's got an opener?" asked a Skuttle.  No opener could be found but they continued to search for one. "Maybe if we sing," suggested a Skuttle, "then the flasks will open by themselves." "Dusty wine at the end of its time," sang one. "How much per flask for that ratty old wine?" warbled the others. Peggy flounced her wings and chirped. "I only buy, I never sell." The Skuttles scoffed. "We'll take your wine and we'll drink it fine. We'll even put it where the sun don't shine." The Wabbit crept into the cab of the truck and took the brake off. The truck rolled backwards silently - and as it rolled, Peggy, Lapinette and Skratch the Cat jumped in. Peggy threw an opener from the window and the Skuttles lost no time. They were drunk as skunks in two minutes. The truck gathered pace as it rolled backwards down the incline. The Wabbit suddenly started the engine and swerved in a highly aggressive manoeuvre that made the Skuttles turn. But they were too inebriated to do a thing. So they continued drinking. "Spo-de-ode Spo-de-ode, drinkin' wine," they chanted. "Take the wheel, Lapinette," said the Wabbit. He dug in his fur and found what he wanted. "What happens now?" asked Peggy. "Just you wait," smiled Lapinette.

5. The Wabbit and the Dodgy Truck

They followed the Skuttles until they found what they wanted. They were up to no good of course. Raiding wine trucks was part of their job description. The Wabbit sent in Skratch the Cat and Peggy as decoys - and they strolled happily along the street chatting about movies. "Oh look there," said Peggy in mock surprise. "These creatures might have something to flog." "I'd say they might," meaowed Skratch.  "Anything to flog?" yelled Peggy at the top of her voice. There was no reply from the Skuttles who continued to inspect the cargo. The Wabbit lined up his automatic and carefully shot several holes in the barrels. Wine gushed everywhere and the Skuttles fell on it with gusto. "Spo-de-ode. Spo-de-ode," they yelled and they gulped as they sang. Lapinette leapt into the driver's cabin and started the truck. It lurched as she crashed it into gear and more wine poured out. Now the Skuttles were frantic. "More wine," they cried, "Spo-de-ode. Spo-de-ode. More wine." A Skuttle turned to Peggy. "Do you have any wine?" Peggy had never ever been asked for anything before. "Yes." she chirped. "Someone flogged me a massive Barolo consignment back in '79." "Ooh," said Skratch, "You can't get better." Peggy spread her wings. "It's reserved to me in a cantina. Jump in the truck we'll take you all there." The Skuttles clambered drunkenly aboard. The Wabbit, Skratch and Peggy jumped into the cabin just as Lapinette swerved from the sidewalk. The Wabbit started to sing. "Down in Piemonte where everything's fine, all of these Skuttles will be guzzlin' that wine." "Pass me a drink," said Lapinette.

4. The Wabbit and the Film Intruders

Peggy rushed into the cinema and greeted the few people there. "Anything to flog? You got anything to flog?" The small audience thought this was for charity and viewers rummaged in pockets and bags. The Wabbit was watching the screen. "What is this, Skratch?" Skratch pointed his torch. "It's Casorzo, based on one of our adventures. This is a study clip." On the big screen, Lapinette rained automatic fire on scuttling creatures - and all the while a harmonica wailed the tune that led to their demise. It made the cinema shake - and that's when something caught the Wabbit's eye. A Skuttle quietly dropped from the screen and scuttled between the seats. Then another. "Did you see that?" Lapinette felt something fasten to her leg. "Yow! Get off!" she yelled.  A violent kick from her right foot sent a Skuttle spiraling towards the projectionist's booth. Skratch lashed out too. "Foreground that!" he yelled as he bludgeoned a Skuttle with his torch. Peggy looked down as a creature nibbled her pegs. "Anything to flog?" Her foot stamped down. Her pegs clamped and tightened. "Anything?" A long drawn out screech echoed round the theatre. "Nothing to flog," sighed Peggy. But the Skuttles continued to drop from the screen. One turned insolently. "Spo-de-ode. Spo-de-ode." Then he headed for the door as they all streamed out. "I guess they're not waiting on the main feature," said the Wabbit.

3. The Wabbit and Cinema Sales

With some folding money under her wing, Peggy hopped along the road asking everyone and anyone if they had anything to flog. So by the time she reached Corso Emanuele, Peggy had accumulated a vast number of useless things and was considerably poorer. The Wabbit and Lapinette shadowed her protectively, stepping in if they thought anyone was taking advantage. Outside the Ambrosio Cinema, they spotted Skratch the Cat volunteering at a film festival. He pounced out immediately. "Only a few seats left, only a few now, roll up, roll up," he yelled. "I'll take the seats," shouted Peggy. "How many would you like?" asked Skratch. He'd sold no tickets whatsoever and he was therefore delighted. "I'll buy your seats," said Peggy, "and anything more you have to flog." Skratch peeled off a ticket and tried to find a programme -  but Peggy showed no interest. "You said seats. I want seats." Skratch scratched his head. "I'm afraid they're all fixed to the floor. But you can sit on a seat and watch the movie." "Yes let's!" said Lapinette. She produced a season ticket from her frock and dragged the Wabbit and Peggy towards the foyer. Peggy protested but Lapinette grabbed a wing and pulled. "A movie is just starting!" shouted Skratch. He led the way with a torch to the front row. "What's the movie called?" murmured the Wabbit. "The Wolf of Wall Street," replied Skratch. "Does he have anything to flog?" asked Peggy.

2. The Wabbit and the Excellent Deal

The Wabbit headed for the market in the company of the bird, who wouldn't go away. "Anything to flog?" repeated the bird. "I'm going to call you, Peggy," chirped the Wabbit. At that moment, they spotted Lapinette, who'd been helping her cousin Vinnie at his sales outlet. Peggy spread her wings. "Anything to flog?" Lapinette was delighted. "As it happens I do." She flicked a colourful piece of fabric that hovered weightlessly in the air. "I can see you're a bird of considerable taste," she said. "This fabric and design is unique. You won't find one like it anywhere." The Wabbit watched all this with humour and waited as Lapinette continued. "My cousin held this back for a buyer but he's lost in Peru. I can let you have it for a song." Peggy trilled a song and held out a wing. "Plus 50 euro," said Lapinette quickly, "It's stain resistant, washable and drip dry." Peggy produced 50 euro in notes and made a grab for the fabric. Lapinette quickly snatched it away and hopped back shouting, "It's uncrushable, travel proof and the colours never fade!" Peggy seized the fabric and a tug of war broke out, which she won. She carefully tucked the fabric in the iron grip of her other wing and gave Lapinette the cash. Lapinette peeled a ten euro note from the bundle and gave it to Peggy. "Special discount. Vinnie says always give one." Peggy held up the ten euro note and waved it at Lapinette. "Anything to flog..?"

1. The Wabbit and Anything to Flog

The Wabbit hopped down the riverside walk as he had done many times. Despite the frequency of his visits he had never met any other on that lonely path. On this occasion, he gazed quietly and critically at the latest graffiti and was about to make a pronouncement to no-one in particular - when he heard a squawk. "Anything to flog?" The creature was bird-like and looked friendly enough. But it kept saying the same thing over and over. "Anything to flog? You got anything to sell me? Anything at all?" The Wabbit shook the bird politely by the wing and tried to think. "I wasn't considering selling," he said. Nevertheless he rummaged in his fur for possibilities and after a while located a battered ruler and a half-eaten salad sandwich. "I'll give you top dollar," said the bird. "Oh, you can have these for nothing," smiled the Wabbit. The bird flapped its wings in dismissal. "A hundred euro for the ruler and fifty for the sandwich." The Wabbit was aghast and tried to put the objects back. But the bird snatched them away, tucked cash into the Wabbit's fur and grinned the broadest grin ever seen on a bird. The Wabbit shrugged and gave up, because it all seemed to be over and he couldn't do much about it. He turned to go on his way, but felt the flap of a wing on his shoulder. "Anything to flog?" said the bird...

The Wabbit at his Adventure Caffè

The Adventure Caffe was electric. The Wabbit still had a quark plasma disk and was waving it around. "Nothing on it, it's deactivated," he said, tapping it on his glass. "Only corrupted old files and a bad copy of "Singing in the Rain." Skratch shouted with glee. "Ephemeralisation! Soon we'll be able to make to do with nothing much at all." Lapinette screwed up her nose. "Maybe that's accidental complexity?" she suggested. Wabsworth shook his head. "Just the opposite. It's accidental essence." Now Skratch was more than excited. "But that's exactly the kind of adventure you just had." The Wabbit twitched his ears. "OK. What was the essence of our adventure and what was accident?" Wabsworth was having none of this. "The accidents were the essence and if you take them away, there wouldn't be any essence left." Lapinette nodded knowingly. "So then our Adventure would be de-essentialised, because the complete adventure was identifiably and substantially accidental." The Wabbit laughed long and hard. "We consistently and persistently maintained accidental essence throughout." Skratch was delighted. "We worked very hard at it. Aristotle would be delighted." The Wabbit looked round impatiently, because no waiter had appeared to serve them. He tapped the disk loudly on the table. Nothing whatsoever happened. "Looks like accidental service," grinned the Wabbit.
[From an idea by Michael Durrant. Mind, Volume LXXXIV, Issue 1, 1 January 1975, Pages 595–600.]

21. The Wabbit and the Quark Stack

"Where are we?" asked Lapinette. "In the quark stack," said the Royal Seal.  "I don't like it here," said an Ice Mouse. "It's all your own fault," said Silkie the Royal Seal. The Wabbit shrugged. He fished in his fur and pulled out an ancient CD player. Then he flicked a quark plasma disk into the player. It began to play an orchestral movement that Lapinette recognised. "Water Music." The atmosphere became damp and a bit sticky. Moisture seeped from the player. Droplets flew up then fell like rain. But it wasn't rain. "That's ours," croaked the Ice Mouse. Silkie laughed. "Take it if you can." The Ice Mouse tried to jump but slipped on a fine plasma film and fell over. "It's anti-rain, said Silkie. The Wabbit grimaced. "That's what the Ice Mice wanted." The Wabbit took the disk from the player and the plasma rain ceased. He put in a different disk. It played "Riders on the Storm" and rained in a tropical manner. Silkie's voice was stern. "Commander, this is what happens when you fail to submit timely mission reports." "It rains?" asked the Wabbit. Lapinette giggled, but Silkie barked, "All this could have been sealed and delivered six years ago." "Water under the bridge," smiled the Wabbit. "Don't let it happen again," said Silkie. The Wabbit plucked the disk from the player then flipped another one in. "I get to keep these, don't I?" "For a rainy day!" shouted Lapinette. And even the Ice Mouse laughed.

20. The Wabbit and Quark Plasma

The Wabbit dived for the ledge as an oncoming portal sped towards the team. There was an apologetic bang, but no doubt of the result. Quark plasma disks emerged in number and when they hit the tunnel, they began to spin fast. The Wabbit brought his stick down hard and yelled, "Drop the web." But the web didn't hold. Disks sliced through the tough weave and continued along the path of the decelerator. Lapinette dived for cover behind the ice floe. But the ice floe turned blue and began to melt - so she rolled across the track and quickly joined the Wabbit. "What's that? Do you know?" "That is the opposite of our ice floe," said the Wabbit; "It's a quark plasma stack." Waves of heat assaulted Lapinette's ears. The disks were sharp and silent. When they hit the side of tunnel, they lodged there, still spinning. Walls became soft, but held their form. Neither solid nor gas nor liquid, they hung in a plasma curtain. The ground vibrated. The Wabbit and Lapinette felt the tracks undulating beneath their feet. They were plasma too. Cautiously the Wabbit poked the plasma with his stick. Everything stopped. Disks dropped from walls. The ice floe reverted to arctic white. The tunnel restabilised. "Looks like that's all we get," murmured the Wabbit. He picked up a disk and polished it with his fur. "Think there's a tune on it?"

19. The Wabbit and the State of Matter

Deep in the mountains lay an important and very secret installation. At the Wabbit's behest, the Department of Wabbit Affairs built a particle decelerator - and allowed the Wabbit to modify it. "It needs to be straight on the rails," yelled the Wabbit, waving his stick. The red spiders patiently adjusted the ice floe. Measurements indicated it wasn't really cold, but it felt as if it was. Lapinette adjusted the timer carefully and said - as she always did at this juncture - "Do you think this will work?" "I tried it using a vase," said the Wabbit. Lapinette's face was a question. The Wabbit looked up in triumph. "All the bits came back!" "Bits?" He hesitated. "Powdery bits." "Ready when you are," called Marshall Duetta. The Wabbit stepped away from the track and lifted his stick. "On my mark." Lapinette activated the decelerator. Nothing appeared to happen. But the Wabbit knew the ice floe had been and gone and come back. An ozone smell wafted through air and sounds of sizzling like frying sausages. "It's different," said Duetta. She tapped the floe lightly with a leg. A hollow sound echoed through the tunnel. "Stand back," said the Wabbit. He raised his stick. Lapinette re-activated the device. Again, nothing seemed to change. But Duetta rattled her legs. "It's come back exactly the way it was." "The Wabbit pointed his stick down the tunnel. "Then what's that over there ..?"

18. The Wabbit and the Aftermath

When they flew across the city they knew something had happened. Burning craft lay in several places. In the distance, Duetta's red spiders ferried the ice floe along the mountains. Lapinette couldn't talk to the spiders directly, only through Duetta. So she put in a call. "Marsha Duetta Spider, come in," For a while there was nothing. Then there was a voice, but it wasn't Duetta. "Copy you," Lapinette," said Wabsworth. "I need actual Duetta," responded Lapinette. "Lapinette, standby," said Wabsworth abruptly. The Wabbit heard muffled explosions in the transmission and a lot of shouting. He took the walkie talkie. "Everything under control?" "Yes, Commander," said Wabsworth, "Never a bother." The Wabbit listened to an impossible number of ammunition rounds exploding. Then all went quiet. The radio crackled. "Commander, we had a small contretemps." Wabsworth was the Wabbit's android double and just like him in many ways. But Wabsworth had a penchant for understatement. "A situation has been contained. Advising rendezvous change to Point Delta." "Copy that Wabsworth," said Lapinette, "What situation?" "Ice Mice tried to kidnap the Royal Seal," replied Wabsworth. The Wabbit waited for more information and Wabsworth somehow smiled down the radio. "They tried to seal his fate." "And...?" asked Lapinette. "Our seal is armed to the teeth." said Wabsworth.

17. The Wabbit and the Night Tripper

Susan the Biplane lifted them from the bridge with the ease of a cargo hoist. It was a timely intervention. Saucers came from all directions firing green lightning that singed their ears. “They’re everywhere, Commander,” said Susan, “All over the city.” Lapinette clung onto a strut to lean out and back as Susan swooped from left to right. “Good thing you did that sidecar racing course,” muttered the Wabbit. Lapinette’s lean was quite impossible. She treated gravity like a toy and her merry dance on the wing was a tour de force. “Hold tight," said Susan. She stood on a wingtip, hung for an instant, then dived abruptly to the ground. Lightning blasts glanced past as she looped the loop and circled back. A following saucer didn’t quite make it and buried itself in a railway siding. Another that was right behind suffered the same fate. But there were more and more saucers. Susan buzzed two craft who’s crew became so disorientated they crashed their vessels into each other. Shards of fuselage littered the railway. Three craft hit power pylons and exploded. One dropped from the sky without warning and as it landed, its lights flickered and died. Lapinette heard singing above the roar of the engine. It was the Wabbit singing into his walkie talkie. “We are the champions, we are the champions!”

16. The Wabbit and the Big Drop

It happened in an instant. Without warning, saucers filled the air and they came thick and fast. The Wabbit and Lapinette were thrown from the bridge. Snow pelted their paws as they clung to the slippery surface. The Ice Mice turned and walked away without a word or a backward glance. "How did that happen?" muttered the Wabbit. His fur stuck fast as frost froze them both in a welcome embrace. The Wabbit watched saucers whizz past and he heard them make a fast-freeze cackle as they span. He slowly hauled himself over the parapet, then turned to lean out. He pulled Lapinette onto the bridge, set her down and murmured, "We need a better plan." Lapinette's frock was a frozen board. "Did we have a plan?" The Wabbit shrugged. "No plan is also a plan." He rummaged in his fur for his emergency fur drier and blasted it around. Lapinette was unimpressed and yelled, "Ears please." The Wabbit blasted Lapinette's ears until they were toasty. "We're making heavy weather of this," he sighed. The snow thickened but somehow it didn't settle. It turned into ice pellets the size of golf balls and clung to every surface of the bridge. The Wabbit activated his fur drier in a ferocious attack using unauthorised settings. It failed to melt a single one, but the snow stopped and the temperature rose. Lapinette was awe struck. "Where did you find that?" The Wabbit grinned ear to ear. "It found me."

15. The Wabbit and the Mice's Ice

The Wabbit hastened across the city to the rendezvous. It was becoming extremely cold and lazy snowflakes clung to his fur. Lapinette had lagged behind to explain something to Skratch the Cat. But now she hurried to catch up - and there they were, just behind the Wabbit. The Ice Mice were impervious to snow or any other weather and they hopped in his steps as the downfall grew fiercer. "Wabbit" shouted Lapinette. The Wabbit wiped snow from his fur and turned. Then he smirked at the three Ice Mice. "Hiding behind a rabbit's back is extremely poor form." He pulled an automatic from his fur. "This is my friend Mr Makarov." An Ice Mouse made a bee line for the Wabbit, but cold steel against his throat changed his mind. "Going somewhere?" growled Lapinette. The Ice Mice lolled around casually, like a bunch of gangbangers in a grotty ghetto. "Message for the Wabbit," said one. "Phone my secretary," snorted the Wabbit. "Call off your eight legged freaks," said an Ice Mouse who was struggling in Lapinette's grip. "Give us our ice and we'll be on our way." Lapinette held an ear and traced patterns with her blade in the creature's fur. "Why do you want the ice?" No-one spoke, so she poked the blade around. "Aaaagh!" yelled the Mouse; "It's spin ice." The Wabbit signalled to Lapinette. "Spin ice?" Lapinette ran a paw along the edge of her weapon. "Spin ice is quantum disordered ice." "The worst kind," sighed the Wabbit.

The Wabbit and his Adventure Caffè

The Wabbit threw a book on the table. "I found it." Lapinette was agog. "It's practically unobtainable." Skratch the Cat bore down on the group flaunting his new t-shirt, but he spotted the book and let out a long haunting meaow. "Where? How?" The Wabbit grinned and shook his head. "That, I may not reveal.  But it's yours now." "A Theory of Musical Semiotics," he chortled; "I'll quote that for years." A fresh breeze ruffled the pages. A faint tune rose and died away. Lapinette took the opportunity to ask the question. "What kind of adventure are we having?" Skratch blinked in a way that only a cat could achieve. "I wouldn't dare criticise a project in progress." "That's Sartre," said Lapinette. The Wabbit tapped the table with a firm paw. "Less methodology, more entertainment." Skratch tapped his chest. "I suggest water is invariably the site of conflict. In cinema, it mobilises a dramatic and conflicted discourse as fluid and changing as water itself." It was Wabsworth's turn to contribute." "This is about the content of water, not its shape. It's somethingness is the issue." The arcade was hot. A welcome breeze brought a change in temperature, prompting Skratch to sweep his paws across his ears. "Something in the air. Something strange." The Wabbit rose. "Time to rock n'roll..."

14. The Wabbit and the Ice that Wasn't

Back on earth, things were cool. But not that cool. Marshall Duetta's spiders brought as many as the ice floes they could capture and the Wabbit felt he should supervise. "Front legs down a bit, back legs up a bit." Marshall Duetta rattled all her legs. "Leave the capturing to us." The Wabbit shrugged. "What do you think, Wabsworth? Should we break the ice?" Wabsworth was the Wabbit's android double but was his own android nonetheless. "It won't break. It's not our kind of ice." The day blistered in the sun and the Wabbit felt hot and bothered. The floes promised refreshing coolness but steadfastly refused to melt. "Take them to the North Pole," suggested Wabsworth; "It could use some more." Lapinette thought that was a good idea. She leaned from a metal tower. "Global warming won't melt these in a million years." Wabsworth smiled and activated his sensors to make a brief analysis. "High pressure. Variable density. The molecular structure is a cube lattice weave. And there's something else I can't determine." A floe crashed to the ground but hardly made a sound. Then another. A wall of unyielding ice grew long and high. The Wabbit hissed. "The Ice Mice know about the something else. They usually do." "Then they'll be here soon," said Duetta. The Wabbit flashed all of his 28 teeth. "Post sentries," he muttered; "Everyone else take five for cold drinks."

13. The Wabbit and the Space Kaboom

Quantum the Time Travelling Train was technically a merchant craft, unequipped for dogfights in space - but he was fast. "Lattice Drive, Commander?" "No," said the Wabbit. He connected his radio to Device A119 and hummed a simple tune. "Locked and Loaded," said the device. "Wait," said the Wabbit. Device A119 waited, and while he waited he played an electronic tune. "So tired," he warbled; "Tired of waiting for you oo ooh." "Now!" yelled the Wabbit. It was only an instant but it seemed like an hour. Suddenly the lunar surface glowed with a strange yellow light. There was no sound, just heat and light. A fiery blast seared past Quantum. "No-one look back," yelled the Wabbit. New fire added to old. Space was as floodlit as a stadium. Shards of saucers flew past Quantum's hull. A random blast from an Ice Mice craft shaved paint from one of Quantum's plates. "Dead Stop! Engage Lattice Drive!" snapped the Wabbit. Quantum groaned, shuddered and vanished, leaving behind only a light-drenched scrapyard. From a safe distance, Marshall Duetta and her legions of red spiders watched. Something odd was happening. Explosions on the lunar source sprayed water bombs into space. There, they froze into Arctic ice floes and drifted towards earth. Duetta spoke telepathically to her spider army. "Take your positions ..."

12. The Wabbit and the Broken Saucer

Under the pressure of the red spiders, the saucer plunged and crashed. Spiders swarmed over the surface, but nothing emerged. The Wabbit and Lapinette stared across a river of the deepest blue. "Is it water?" asked the Wabbit. "Not as we know it," said Duetta. Her legs rattled. "I wouldn't drink it." Marshall Duetta stuck a tip of a leg in the water and withdrew quickly. "The molecules aren't quite right." The Wabbit had a thought. "It looks like a reservoir." Lapinette charged her snazer gun. The whine was audible even in the wafer thin atmosphere. "But who's reservoir is it?" Duetta received a signal from the red spiders. "Marshall, there's movement inside the craft." Duetta ordered her troops to smash against the side of the vessel. The Wabbit and Lapinette gripped their snazers. They were expecting a sudden onslaught of Ice Mice, but all was still. "It's too quiet," said the Wabbit. Duetta nodded upwards. "How quiet do you like it?" Saucers emerged from behind Earth and they were fast and furious. "I estimate they'll be here in two hours," said Lapinette. "Call off the spiders," said the Wabbit; "Let them think we cut and ran." "We'll head for the dark side of the moon," said Lapinette. "It's going to be cold," sighed the Wabbit. "We'll heat things up," said Duetta; "Got any CL-20?" "I always do," replied the Wabbit, flicking imaginary lint from his fur. "Lay it under the water," suggested Duetta. "Blasting harms the environment," said Lapinette. Duetta rattled her legs. "If the Ice Mice get here, we won't have any."

11. The Wabbit and the Liquid Moon

Marshall Duetta Spyder hung just off Earth and watched the moon turn liquid. Then the remnants of a distant shock wave rattled her legs. Quantum the Time Travelling Train burst through the lunar surface, spraying icy droplets into space. Duetta spoke telepathically to her cohorts. "Stand by." "There's another craft, Marshall," came a silent response. "Ice Mice," growled Duetta. She transmitted another message. "Battalion Two. Give that craft trouble." A thousand red spiders broke orbit and headed for the saucer. Marshall Duetta turned her gaze to the moon. She knew the value of water and the sinister role of the Ice Mice in diverting natural resources. Climatic catastrophe was the certain result. She sent another message, this time to the Wabbit. "All possible information. Copy." The Wabbit's radio voice vibrated through every hair she had. "The moon is full of water. The discovery droid told no-one." Marshall Duetta rattled her legs. "Someone else knew. We have company." The Wabbit's voice was harsh. "Can you divert them?" "Not indefinitely," said Duetta. The saucer was at a standstill, but suddenly powered up and made for the moon's surface. Quantum moved to intercept. For a moment a collision looked unavoidable, but Quantum vanished and reappeared from the far side of the moon. Trapped between Quantum and the spiders, the saucer shuddered to a halt. Red spiders covered the craft. Duetta hissed and bared her fangs. "Smother it."

10. The Wabbit and the Place of Water

In the dining car of Quantum the Train, the Wabbit fiddled with Device A119. It was rather old fashioned and had seen better days. But it worked. Space Traveller looked out into deep space and worried. "Does he know what he's doing?" Lapinette shrugged. "Maybe." The Wabbit ignored all this. He continued to poke inside the device and hummed gently. "Is that you or the device?" asked Lapinette. The Wabbit hummed a different note, then another. Suddenly Device A119 spoke. "Up a bit and to the left." "Your left or my left?" sighed the Wabbit. "Right paw up a bit until you find the red capacitor." There was a flash. "Ouch," said the Wabbit. "Spot on," said the device; "You have control." The Wabbit sighed again. "Control of what?" "Me," said the device. "Can I have a salad sandwich?" said the Wabbit. "I can promise a panino in due course," replied the device; "but I have to find it first." Lapinette laughed and signalled the kitchens. "What was your function?" continued the Wabbit. "To find water in the moon," said the device. The Wabbit probed with his screwdriver and murmured, "What was the outcome of your search?" The device played a soothing snatch of Cool Water. "I'll take that as a yes," said the Wabbit; "so who did you inform?" "No-one," responded the device; "I have no instructions to tell anyone." An audible gasp shook the dining car. "It was forgotten," said the Device. "That doesn't hold water," grinned the Wabbit.

9. The Wabbit and the Lost Performers

Torrential rain lashed at the Wabbit's fur. The Agents were looking at something and the Wabbit knew what it was. It whistled and sang, it chirped and warbled. Then under the light of a mystifying moon, the Agents began to dance. Space Traveller pitched his green ears. "What is that?" The Wabbit plucked his walkie talkie from his fur. "I forgot about Device A119. It's a droid." He changed frequency and whispered urgently. "Command Line 76. Execute Bootstrap. Information Protocol 119." His radio crackled and whined. "Hello, hello, hello hello." "The Wabbit had an idea. He whispered again. "Device A119, please accept my requests." The Wabbit listed a series of obscure novelty chart-toppers. The Agents danced in circles and made jazz paws in the rain, oblivious to anything but the heterodyne whine of Device A119. "That's ghastly," said Space Traveller, making a futile attempt to cover his ears. The Wabbit spat out a list of performers known for execrable one-hit wonders. Device A119 played them all. "I can take no more," sighed Space Traveller. "Wait," smiled the Wabbit. The Agents whirled to left and right, then sank exhausted to the ground. The rain stopped. Silence fell. The Wabbit hopped forward and retrieved the device. Then he grabbed onto Space Traveller and grinned, "Let's fade away." And they did.

8. The Wabbit and the Cynical Switch

The Wabbit felt strange to be an Agent of Rabit, but Space Traveller seemed to be enjoying himself. They wiggled their pointy ears and practiced snickering just like Agents. "Get these gophers," sneered the Wabbit. "Scrag their scroggles!" said Space Traveller, a bit too loud. Suddenly there were three agents throwing out their chests and snivelling. "Who are you?" they shouted. The Wabbit looked over the wall. "We're new." "We just got here," added Space Traveller. "No-one said you were coming," said an Agent. "Last minute thing," smiled the Wabbit; "In consequence, we are hopelessly raw and don't know our asses from our elbows." Another Agent shook with annoyance. "It's always the same when we need help." "But we're so cute," simpered the Wabbit. The three Agents huddled, then emerged to address the pair. "There was one interloper. Now there are two." "I can see them," said the Wabbit.  "Where?" sneered the Agents. "Over there," said Space Traveller; "You can make out their ears." The Agents became agitated. "We can't see them." The Wabbit pointed to his glasses. "Special spectacles." Space Traveller tapped his. "Wearable specnology." "Yes, I see ears on the horizon," exclaimed an Agent. "Best follow them," suggested the Wabbit. "Keep your own ears to the ground," advised Space Traveller." The Agents made off at speed and disappeared. "We'll look after your stuff," shouted the Wabbit.

7. The Wabbit & the Planet of the Voles

Quantum dropped them off. The planet looked pretty much as the Wabbit had left it, but something wasn't right. The sky darkened and rain fell. Drops prickled the Wabbit's fur. "Acid rain," murmured the Wabbit. "Usually this is when the voles come, remember?" said Space Traveller. The Wabbit recalled his story of the voles with a chuckle. "I made all that up." Lightning flashed. The Wabbit plucked his walkie talkie from his fur, but it crackled aimlessly. A long way above, Quantum the Time Travelling Train wheeled and departed. "I do think we have trouble," sighed the Wabbit. "There they are, the voles," shrugged the Time Traveller; "They're most unpleasant." The Wabbit stared straight ahead. "They're not normal voles." The Space Traveller shuddered. "Voles should stay in their holes." The Wabbit fished around in his fur for ideas. "I'm truly sorry I left you with the voles." Damp droplets turned to lashing rain. The Wabbit tucked his radio away. "It's an off-planet platoon of the Agents of Rabit. Our sworn enemy." The Wabbit hissed harshly but Space Traveller brightened up. "Let's give them a thrashing." Agents charged over the brow of the hill, snickering as they closed on their prey. "Grab onto me," said the Traveller; "We'll give them the round run." The Wabbit did as he was told. With a grimace and a shudder the Traveller began to change. And so did the Wabbit ..