A detail from the Wabbit's personal guard mopped up the remainder of the Agents of Rabit, while the Wabbit looked on approvingly. "This way, this way," shouted Moloch from inside the jail, He licked his lips and looked at the Wabbit. "What shall I do with the prisoners?" "Do you what you like!" scowled the Wabbit. He had fought the Agents so hard and for so long that he hardly cared. "There are rather many," said Moloch. "Just lock 'em up," said the Wabbit, "we'll decide later." "May I accompany you to your adventure caffè?" asked Moloch. "You're the guest of honour," said the Wabbit, and then he paused. "Tell me where you got the new threads, Moloch?" Moloch looked questioningly. "The garments, the schmutter," said the Wabbit. "I recall you had rather a different costume in the old days." "Oh," said Moloch smiling, "I visited an Indonesian shop in Via Garibaldi." The Wabbit raised an eyebrow. "The staff were most accommodating," continued Moloch, "and I got a rather good deal." "I'm hardly surprised," said the Wabbit with a grin. One of the Wabbit's guard saluted. "Commander Sir!" The Wabbit raised another eyebrow. "The prisoners are insisting on their rights, Sir. They want television, Sir." "The Wabbit threw back his ears and laughed. "I can't think of a better punishment!"
