The Wabbit was as good as his word. He searched out a suitable space for a copy shop and installed the printer. Before long, pink paper was flying from the output tray. The cartridge came out to inspect his new location. "This is a medieval castle," he exclaimed, "and it's quite pink." The Printer rumbled in the background. "How did you find this place?" The Wabbit explained. "Oh, I was one one of these bus tours and we all had to file round. I had a quiet word with the owners. Now you're obliged to print their promotional leaflets." The cartridge was ecstatic. "As long as they're pink!" The Wabbit swivelled to take in the scene - and noticed two pink chairs. "They do seem to like pink." The cartridge pointed to the pink paper. "We wanted to give you a special present. It will take a while to get your image perfectly pink." The Wabbit looked at the paper and smiled. Every page had his picture, in which he was completely pink. "I'm flattered," said the Wabbit. "I'm going to tweak it again," said the cartridge, "Where would you like them delivered?" The Wabbit grinned. "I'm going back home. Just address them to The Wabbit, Rome." The Printer rumbled again. "They'll be a few days. We got rather a large order for wedding invitations." The Wabbit waved and made to lope off. He felt a warm glow and turned. "I'm feeling in the pink," he said. "So don't forget to visit," said the Printer. "Don't worry, I'll be back," smiled the Wabbit, "to pick up my commission." Then they laughed and laughed and laughed.
