2. The Wabbit and Lapinette Take 'em Out

Lapinette drove fast and had no time for obstacles. But as she reached Via Cernaia she heard a clatter of motorcycles. She vaulted the statues. The truck soared high in the air. The Wabbit looked down at the vehicles. "Definitely hostile," he said and he gripped whatever there was to grip. The truck was airborne, but the bikes came from below, grazing her wheels. The riders sported black visors and they couldn't really see their faces. But their intent was clear. They meant harm. "I can hear a Rotax engine." The Wabbit knew his motorbikes but Lapinette wrinkled her nose. "I don't care what engines they have, they're dead ducks." She threw the truck to the left and then the right. The motorbikes span to the ground and no-one got back up. "We're meeting Skratch and the rest at Pluto Park," said Lapinette, "and I aim to be there on time." The Wabbit settled back in his seat as the truck crashed down on the road. "You should get new seats," he said and smiled. "These are new seats," answered Lapinette. "You could have fooled me," said the Wabbit. "They're racing seats from the Army and Navy Stores. Special offer," said Lapinette. The noise from the engine was deafening. "So what's the MacGuffin?" asked the Wabbit. Lapinette downshifted several gears then just as quickly upshifted. Street furniture flew. "It's super hush hush," said Lapinette. "Mmmm?" said the Wabbit. "A weapon so dangerous, it must not fall into the wrong paws," added Lapinette. "Where is this weapon?" asked the Wabbit. "In the wrong paws," said Lapinette. "Best get moving then," murmured the Wabbit. "Hooked up and ready to roll," yelled Lapinette. The truck swung into Corso Svizzera on two wheels. "Hang 'em out to dry," shouted the Wabbit.

1. The Wabbit and the Secret Mission

The Wabbit was hopping along Via Pietro Micca when he saw Lapinette coming towards him in a truck. He stepped sideways but to no avail. She stopped a centimetre from his feet, then signalled for him to get on board. He swung himself up with a friendly wave. "What gives, Lapinette?" The Wabbit liked to use hippie vocabulary once in a while. "Wabbit, we have a mission." Lapinette sounded urgent. The Wabbit was surprised. There was nothing on the horizon, or so it seemed. He paused by the window. "What kind of a mission?" Lapinette chortled and floored the throttle. The truck screeched as it took off at speed. "A secret one of course." The Wabbit jumped into a seat and hauled the door shut. He hadn't supposed it would be any other kind. "We'll need all our vehicles," she said. She pushed the truck up the gears and careered off into Via Antonio Bertola. The Wabbit sat back and smiled. "Is it urgent?" Lapinette rounded a corner on two wheels. "Everything is urgent for the Department." The Wabbit nodded his head and wound the window up against invading dust from nearby tram works. "Agents of Rabit?" asked the Wabbit. "Don't know," said Lapinette. "Euls, Skuttles, Gnamskulls?" suggested the Wabbit. "No idea," yelled Lapinette. She crashed down three gears without regard for synchromesh. The Wabbit glanced in the back of the truck. It was crammed with weapons. "Expecting trouble." It wasn't a question. "Triple trouble," replied Lapinette. "Trouble is my trade," said the Wabbit, "How else would I make any money?" He leaned forward, opened a hidden compartment under the dash and grinned. "My emergency C4 is still here." Lapinette replied through gritted teeth. "Business will boom!"

The Wabbit at his Adventure Caffè.

The team met at a Caffè they knew and loved. Skratch arrived late, as was his way. Wabsworth peered round Lapinette to watch his approach. He was in good humour and raised his paw in greeting. "Hello everyone! What a splendid adventure!" Skratch liked to have first go at explanation and he was determined. "Let me give you my learned analysis." He shielded his eyes from the sun and sat down on the only seat available. He pulled it forward. "That sun is fierce," he said. The Wabbit was pleased to see him. "Tell us oh learned one, what was that for a sort of Adventure?" Skratch's meaow reverberated down the porticos. "It was a conventional device for a series," he said. "But I must mention Heidegger."  Lapinette gave a slight giggle. "Must you?" Wabsworth was interested however, and he leaned back. "Being and Time," he murmured. Wabsworth had recently undertaken a study of world philosophy in alphabetic order, and he'd lingered on "H". The Wabbit merely laughed. "I suppose you're going to give us all that guff about people seeking repetition because it makes them comfortable." Skratch pretended to be horrified. "I am not a dispenser of old guff," he meaowed. "Repetition takes the past and gives it meaning and sense. It may therefore be understood." He nodded gravely as if agreeing with himself.  Lapinette wasn't to be outdone. "Seidel thought of this as a redredging that reclaims the past." Skratch was super pleased. "You're a marvel, Lapinette." The Wabbit grinned. "It would be marvellous if Lapinette could attract the attention of the waiter! She's awfully good at that."  

5. The Wabbit and a Dream of Rail Lines

The supermarket had gone and the Wabbit was dropping once more. There was a smile on his face because it was so peaceful. He could make out the railway station and the lines below, but he could hear no trains. Still, his nose picked up a static smell from the electric pylons. It seemed comforting. He continued to drop until he passed the cables. Lapinette was shouting. "Wabbit, this is the end of your dream." The Wabbit grinned to himself. "Is it over? So soon?" Lapinette yelled this time. "Wabbit wake up." The Wabbit didn't want to. Why?" he mumbled, "it's so comfortable." Lapinette floated closer. He could feel her paws touch his. "All good dreams must come to an end," she said. The Wabbit was aware of sounds from the nearby shunting yard and he could hear cars pass over the big bridge. There was the whoosh of a tram. He shook his head. "I like the railway and all that goes with it," he said. Lapinette was insistent. "You have to come back to us Wabbit. You have work to do." The Wabbit revolved through 360 degrees but seemed reluctant to waken. Lapinette spoke again. "You can visit the railway any time you like." The Wabbit smiled. "I can, can't I?" With a sudden shudder he shook himself awake. He was still floating above the railway but plummeting fast. The lines loomed. He tried to click his fingers. The scene faded and he was back in his bedroom. "Phew," he said, "these lines must represent the paths and choices I have in life." He was still slurred. Lapinette prodded him fully awake. "You have an unconscious desire to marry a train." The Wabbit laughed and thought about it. "You Freud, me Jane?" he giggled.

4. The Wabbit and the Gnamskull's Pizza

Lapinette moved the Wabbit's dream along. With a wave of her paws, they were in a supermarket in Ireland. "What on earth?" began the Wabbit. Lapinette silenced him with a paw to her lips. They waited until they heard a commotion. It was a monster the Wabbit hadn't seen for number of years and it was at a freezer compartment, tearing at pizzas. "A gnamskull," breathed the Wabbit. "A gnamskull and it's hungry for pizza." The gnamskull's teeth tore at the cardboard but it was tough work. He tried several until he found the one he wanted. Then he set about it with vigour. The Wabbit could only watch. Then his eyes flickered across to Lapinette's. "That's my favourite shop-bought pizza," he whispered. Lapinette gazed back. "You can talk as loudly as you like Wabbit, I don't think it can hear you." The Wabbit shouted. Nothing happened. "It's your dream," said Lapinette, "it must mean something to you." The Wabbit strode over to the creature and tried to take the pizza away. The gnamskull gripped it vicelike in its teeth. There was no way the Wabbit could get it. "Give me back my pizza," shouted the Wabbit. The Gnamskull shot behind a counter with the pizza. The cardboard had gone and he was eating the frozen contents. "Are you some kind of weirdough?" shouted the Wabbit. Lapinette shrugged. "The dream belongs to you. What happens next? "The Wabbit launched at the Gnamskull. "You're a real pizza work!" he shouted. The gnamskull dived under the counter and squealed. The Wabbit gave up. "Now look here, gnamskull," he said. "My pizza jokes can't be topped."

3. The Wabbit's Encounter with the Slift

The dream was all too real for the Wabbit. But he saw Lapinette float some distance from the ground in what was unmistakeably the slaughterhouse at Testaccio. And there was a Slift, clearly recognisable in his distinctive fur coat. He tapped him. The Slift turned and looked down. The voice was familiar but had a strangely disembodied tone. "Commander Wabbit, where's my money?" "I didn't give you any money," said the Wabbit, "I recall advising you to make some investments." Lapinette pointed at him. "You were supposed to make more money than you ever dreamed of." The Slift inclined its head. "No money was forthcoming from my investment." Lapinette smiled. "You didn't allow enough time. I quite firmly stated at the time that I would triple your investment in 900 years." The Wabbit smiled too. "I remember saying I would take these Fake Fur investments off your hands, and you refused." The Slift moaned a long and mournful moan that might grace any crazy dream. "So here I am with only the fur I'm standing up in." Lapinette pirouetted. "Poor you!" The Wabbit poked the Slift harder and, like before, his paw passed straight through his fur coat. He hopped back. "Since it's my dream I can put everything to rights. Please take this key and go to locker number 66 in Torino Porta Nuova Station. There you will find all the gold in the universe." The Slift took the key and made for Rome Station to get a connection. Lapinette fluttered dream-like to the ground. "What was that key, Wabbit?" The Wabbit smiled the wickedest of wicked smiles. "I just dreamed it up."

2. The Wabbit and the Fur from the Past

Now the Wabbit was spinning. The crime museum had gone. He recognised the new place as the old slaughterhouse in Testaccio. He was dropping steadily to the floor. He looked up at the rafters and across at the walls. They rippled like a black ocean. It was then he saw Lovely Lapinette. She was calling to him. "Wabbit, Wabbit you're dreaming." The Wabbit knew he was dreaming. He just couldn't do anything about it. She was shouting again. It was more of a yell. "You're dreaming of old adventure locations, Wabbit." His mouth moved in response, but no sound came out. He stopped a metre from the floor. He wiggled his paw to see if it would move. It did. Lapinette drifted close by. "This is where we met the Slifts. It's a dream and it's all in your head." The Wabbit hit the floor with a thump and so did Lapinette. "Fake Fur Futures?" His voice was slurred. "Yes," said Lapinette. "Are you dreaming too?" asked the Wabbit." It was mangled and sounded like sheeming choo. "Yes," giggled Lapinette. The Wabbit slowly sat up and shook himself. "I'm not dreaming anymore." Lapinette laughed a silky laugh. "Yes, you are." The Wabbit put a paw on the wall. It went straight through. Lapinette dug him in the ribs. "What do you want to do in your dream?" The Wabbit thought for a while. "I'd like to wake up?" Again, he heard Lapinette's silky laugh. "That's no fun," she whispered, "Live a little. How would you change the past?" The Wabbit tried to recall the events. "Oh, I remember. It was like the Wild West." "Well, air yer lungs," suggested Lapinette. The Wabbit thought about it, smiled and then effected a cowboy drawl. "I'm looking for the man who shot my paw."

1. The Wabbit and the Curious Sky

The Wabbit was dreaming - or hoped he was dreaming. He recognised the corridor. It was certainly the Museum of Crime in Rome. But there was no floor, only sky. He could feel fluffy clouds at his back, and he was sinking. "Why am I here?" he said to himself. He looked at his paws because he knew it was the way to tell if he was in his dream body. He could see his paws all right. He wiggled them than they moved. "This would suit Carlos Castaneda," he thought. "If I'm in my dream body, something will happen." But nothing happened except for a relentless sinking. Maybe it was the sinking that was happening. He tried to recall the last time he'd been to the museum. He'd been on a work trip to Rome and had just been to the Antimafia Commission to give evidence before learned judges. That was following his undercover stint at a popular newsagent and he'd popped into the museum on the way back on a whim. It was a strange museum, an eclectic collection of objects which he quite liked. And for once in his life, he hadn't borrowed anything. The Wabbit thought that would be bad form for the Crime Museum. He bobbed up and down a bit more. The walls and the skirting board came into view, then sky, then skirting boards. He shut his eyes and tried very hard to hear. There were murmuring voices. He opened his eyes. The murmuring stopped. He opened them. There was the murmuring again. With an enormous effort he made his ways to the walls and leaned on them for support. The sky started to whirl and became solid, but the walls were soft as the marshmallow clouds he'd seen before. "Curiouser and curiouser," thought the Wabbit ...

The Wabbit at his Adventure Caffè

It was a jovial gathering at the Adventure Caffè. Skratch as usual was late - but he arrived in good form. The Wabbit welcomed him with unusual vigour. "Here's my good friend, Skratch the Cat!" Then he added, "It was Skratch who saved the day." Skratch raised an eyebrow. "I thought I'd messed everything up." Lapinette was cool as a carrot. "Not one of us ever messes up." Wabsworth chimed in. "Not much anyway!" The Wabbit grasped Skratch's paw. "Tell us oh great critic. What was that for a sort of Adventure?" Skratch leaned back. "I'll tell you now. That was a novel and exciting story featuring great danger." The Wabbit interrupted. "Which the main protagonist overcame with good humour!" Skratch meoawed. "But there was a main signifying feature used to comic effect. That was ... the dynamite!" Wabsworth tapped on the table. "It definitely avoids the wider extra-diegetic implications of conspiracy films that we know and love." Through comedy," added Lapinette. Skratch nodded. "The dynamite would not explode - except in particular circumstances. So, the comedic effect was placed in the final frame and suggested exactly such a circumstance." Lapinette laughed. "Explosive! I'm glad I wasn't in that frame." They all giggled. Skratch continued. "The Agents were emotionally unstable and so was the explosive." The Wabbit smiled. "So maybe we could scare up a drink?" Lapinette laughed. "Maybe we're just not scary enough?" Wabsworth was tickled by this and thought of a joke. "Lapinette," he said, "You're dynamite!"

7. Skratch and the Stick of Dynamite

The Wabbit was passing through the kitchens of the medieval castle and looking at the food in preparation. He wasn't quite happy with the cook's choice and his nose wrinkled. But suddenly he spotted Skratch, hanging from the roof. "Hello Wabbit," cried Skratch. He seemed pleased with himself, but the Wabbit was puzzled when he saw the dynamite. "What are you up to?" he asked. Skratch swung down. "I just disarmed a couple of thugs outside the castle," he meaowed. The Wabbit looked none too pleased. "What did you do with them?" he asked. Skratch snickered, "I ate them." The Wabbit jumped in the air. "Whaaat?" Skratch laughed. "Just joking Wabbit. They're all locked up in the cells." The Wabbit hopped up and down. "We were hoping to act as decoys and find out who they were working with." Skratch didn't see any problem. "Well, we're no worse off, I can let them escape." They could have killed you Skratch," yelled the Wabbit. "Who me?" said Skratch. "I'm a cat. I have nine lives." The Wabbit put his paws on his hips, a little like Lapinette. "How many have you used?" Skratch counted, but when he came to eleven, he gave up. "I see what you mean," he purred, "Anyway, these two rabbits are completely hopeless." "They got us with stun grenades," said the Wabbit. "Never mind," said Skratch, "This dynamite is perfectly safe." He threw the dynamite at the Wabbit. The Wabbit dived out the way as it hit a metal grill and exploded. Pots and pans and crockery clattered to the ground. The Wabbit picked himself out of the debris. "What am I going to tell the cook?"

6. Skratch and the Flying Leap

As a kinetic projectile, the decisive factors were speed, object size and drag. For Skratch that was automatic. He propelled himself forward with a thrust of his rear legs. His huge claws raked from right to left. The two Agents didn't stand much chance. Caught by the claws they were thrown to the side and landed in a tumbled heap. Dynamite flew high in the air. Skratch flipped and summersaulted. With a single lunge he caught the dynamite, tucked it into his fur and landed feet down on the Agents chests. "Up to no good?" he shouted. "I've caught you in the act." The Agents were dazed and could hardly answer. Skratch knelt beside one of them. "Talk," he said, "talk fast." The first Agent thought quickly. "We're tourists," he gasped. "We're having a picnic," said the other. "Fimble fambling fools!" yelled Skratch. He picked them both up by the scruff of their scrawny necks. "Lucky it's not your ears!" He started to drag them into the castle and headed for the cells, meaowing and hissing alternately as he sped along. "I have a lovely spot set aside for fools like you." It was a dank day and the dim prison cells failed to lighten it. A single light illuminated the bars. They sat in a corner under the light bulb looking miserable. Skratch plucked the dynamite from his fur and juggled with it for while. "Strange tourists, you. I suppose you were going to brew up." They nodded vigorously. Skratch slammed the prison doors with a clang, and paused to read them their rights. "Anything you say will not be taken seriously. You're entitled to a lawyer but we haven't got one. Understood?" They nodded their heads. Skratch left to find the Wabbit but he was laughing. "A right pair of Herberts."