The Wabbit grinned. They were home. That's what he thought anyway. Lapinette leaned into the wind with no paws. "I've never seen Viale Pasteur so quiet." The Wabbit nodded. "It must be early in the morning." "On a Sunday," replied Lapinette. "In August," added the Wabbit. He paused. "I'm going to put her down." Lapinette jumped as they skidded along the road and landed near a curb. "The Wabbit and Lapinette. Coming to a dimension near you!" she yelled. The Wabbit flipped the board and grabbed it. Together they made their way to Caffè Palombini. "Maybe Palombini's is quiet too," suggested Lapinette. "I don't think it's ever quiet," answered the Wabbit. They rounded the corner. But Palombini's wasn't there, it was Ciampini's. "We're in the wrong dimension," scowled the Wabbit. Lapinette grinned. "We could still have a coffee." The Wabbit shrugged. "And a salad tramezzini." They sat down. Buses passed but they were the wrong colour. They swigged back their coffee and munched their sandwiches. "I think I know what to do," said the Wabbit. He lifted the skateboard and took a can of 3 in 1 from his fur. He oiled the wheel bearings. He span them round, then span them back. They left cash on the table and jumped on the deck. The Wabbit smiled. "When we hit the next dimension, get ready to bail."
