The Wabbit lifted the remaining coin and looked at Spring Rabbit. "What's it to be?" he asked. Behind him, tourists scattered into the city taking their free coins with them. The shapes separated from the coins and became listless untethered shadows. Spring Rabbit briefly touched the coin that was left, then sprang back. He looked into the distance. "There go the shapes. How did you know?" The Wabbit shrugged. "We gave the coins away free, gratis and for nothing. It was more than the shapes could bear." "Poetic justice," observed Spring Rabbit. The Wabbit turned to watch. The shapes looked without hope. They could no longer live profitably in the coins, so penniless and homeless, they shuffled into the night. The Wabbit tapped the coin. "What do you want to do?" "The coin is a prison house," said Spring Rabbit; "I will not return. How much is it worth in your money?" "It might fetch a million euro at auction," said the Wabbit. "Keep it, it's yours," said Spring Rabbit. The Wabbit mentally consigned it to the Museum. "Now I need work," said Spring Rabbit. "Can you remember any magic tricks?" asked the Wabbit. Spring Rabbit vanished momentarily then returned. "That's all very well," smiled the Wabbit, "but can you saw a scantily clad lady in half?" "I can pull one out of a hat," said Spring Rabbit.
