The team crept inside a Caffè in Via Gregorio VII because it had air conditioning. The Wabbit said it was expensive, but he suspended judgment because everyone seemed happy. There was no available waiter but a voice from the back called "Arrivo subito." The Wabbit smiled. "It's only a matter of time." Skratch leaned in. "Are you referring to another of your prehistoric adventures?" The Wabbit merely shook his head. "Tell us - what was that for a sort of adventure we just had?" Skratch's meaow was an attenuated shriek. "There was the problem of authenticity." Lapinette screwed up her nose. "How so?" Skratch leaned in even further. "It is not known if ammonites had that nautilus head." Wabsworth butted in. "Isn't knowing about that sort of thing is an ideological construct." The Wabbit laughed. "Archaeologists would have us walking about in one of their ideological theme parks." Lapinette had several post graduate qualifications in anthropology. She nodded her head. "Archaeologists carefully reveal the means of construction of what they
think is really real. But all we can really know is uncertainty." The Wabbit grinned. "It's fairly uncertain if we'll ever get a drink." Wabsworth also had a laugh. "We can only be certain about our uncertainty." The waiter appeared bearing four Proseccos and sandwiches on a tray. "We never really ordered," snorted Lapinette. "He was really certain of what we wanted," shrugged the Wabbit.
