The team was in the process of assembling at a Caffè in Via Gregorio VII. It was a bright day and the sun carved harsh patterns in the sidewalk. Lapinette came flying out the Caffè door. "I just ordered Proseccos all round!" The Wabbit scraped his chair with a lot of noise. "Good!" he replied. "Are you upset?" asked Lapinette. "I didn't know you were inside, we may have ordered twice." Lapinette giggled. "We'd just have to drink twice as quickly." The Wabbit brightened immediately. Skratch came into sight. "Hello everyone. "What was that for a sort of adventure?" Wabsworth appeared at the side and threw in his opinion. "It was an intervisual dialogue. A hybrid of forms." Skratch smiled. "Joussance!" Lapinette pulled a face. "Roland Barthes?" Skratch pulled another face. "I was thinking of Lacan." The Wabbit grinned so much you could hear it. "The slippy-slidyness of the text." Lapinette frowned. "You're thinking of glissement." The Wabbit stopped grinning then started again. "That's glissement." This was followed by a long silence, interrupted by Wabsworth. "The French don't have a word for that!" Skratch meaowed long and hard. "Your joke routine is improving, Wabsworth." The Wabbit sat back. "Where's this double drink coming from?" Lapinette looked round. "I think I accidentally locked the door." The Wabbit could see their drinks on the counter. "Life and prosecco are very similar," He paused and looked around, then delivered his punchline. "You have to chill for best results." Everyone groaned.
