It was a pleasant afternoon at the Adventure
Caffè and, as usual, Skratch made a sudden entrance. "Sorry I'm late," he meaowed; "I was detained by the movies." The Wabbit grinned. "You're nearly too late for the big question." Skratch made for a spare seat. "Cats are never late," he purred. He looked down at Spring Rabbit, who had mysteriously appeared next to Wabsworth. "What is your critical view of your adventure, Spring Rabbit?" Spring Rabbit sprung into Wabsworth's lap and spoke in a soft voice. "It falls into the category I recognise as
trickamagical. A silence fell. "Please elaborate," smiled Wabsworth with interest. Spring Rabbit settled. "The discourse was mobilised by magic, executed by tricksters. We all transgressed the boundaries of empirical fact." "Skratch nodded gravely and was about to hold forth. But Wabsworth was anxious to give his opinion. "Real sorcerers resort to tricks when magic doesn't work. The line between the two is fuzzy." Lapinette was impatient. "It doesn't matter, because the exclusive aim of magic is to produce results." Spring Rabbit laughed, then vanished briefly and reappeared. Everyone gasped. "You'll always work," laughed the Wabbit.
