The team hadn't forgotten about the annual Hallowe'en Party. By special arrangement they'd obtained permission to hold it - near midnight - at the Royal Palace. They wandered through the armoury. "This looks like a good place," said the Wabbit. "Neigh," whinnied a horse. "Did you hear a horse neigh?" asked Lapinette. "Neigh," whinnied another horse. They looked to right and left. They heard the clatter of ghostly hooves. Two horses carrying two armoured soldiers were suddenly upon them. Blood spattered from their nostrils every time they snorted. The Wabbit wiped blood from his forehead. "This makes a change." he shrugged, "It's usually the Bunnyman." The mounted soldiers gave hollow laughs - hollower than fallen echoes across an abyss. They snickered as one. "Ha ha ha ha hah! We are the horsed guard of the Bunnymen, come to torment you at Hallowe'en." Skratch half sneered, half grimaced. "The Bunnyman always has an axe." Lapinette concurred. "Yes, devilish ones. Show us your axe." A ghostly axe materialised from thin air, sharper than the ravens cry. It chopped once and gore sprayed across Wabsworth. It chopped again and splattered Skratch in the eye. Skratch got annoyed. "Who are
you to advance on us with vague similes?" The horses reared. Wabsworth and Skratch cowered in fright. The Wabbit grinned and pressed a hidden switch in his fur. "How do like my full scale models?" It was nearly midnight. The riders and their steeds failed to stop. One horse gave the Wabbit's ears a vicious bite. "Yikes!" yelled the Wabbit. Lapinette, Wabsworth and Skratch all laughed and laughed. "How do you like ours?"
