9. The Wabbit and the Army Explosives

Grey Rat arrived with a jeep that had seen better days. As it jolted to a halt, the Wabbit wrinkled his nose. But he shrugged. "It's what we have," he muttered. He'd found more boxes. Enough to mine the whole corridor. Grey rat's voice was muffled from inside the jeep. "I suppose we'd better find a new home." The Wabbit panted from the weight of the box. "Plenty more hospitable than here." He looked behind at the line of boxes. He jumped back in the jeep as it lurched toward the next opening. "How long have you been here?" he asked. "Years," said the Rat. "And our Nazi familiars?" sneered the Wabbit. "Since the Cold War," replied the Rat. "You've lived a long life," said the Wabbit. "It's the stuff in the cans," responded the Rat. The jeep made a lot of noise as it careered along the tunnel. Its big end bearings had worn out years ago. Every time Rat stamped on the brakes it pulled to the left. The steering wheel shook and wobbled in a death rattle. But it still motored on. The Wabbit left box after box at every gap in the tunnel. "Where's the way out?" Grey Rat gestured ahead. The Wabbit saw an iron gate and some chinks of light. "What about your pal, Black Rat?" Grey Rat laughed. "He's on his way." He paused. "He's bringing all his pals." Now the Wabbit laughed. "I'm Der Rattenfänger of the Bunkers." The Grey Rat giggled. "The Nazis won't know where we've gone. And then what?"  The Wabbit bared every one of his 28 teeth. "Kaboom!" he grunted.