The Wabbit gathered the rest of the team at Testaccio. It was hot. Seriously hot. No-one knew which way to look. The waiter was writing things on the blackboard, bleached by the heat of the scorching sun. The very air felt singed. Skratch leaped from the depth of a nearby bush. "It's hot hot hot," he meaowed. "Never mind that," said the Wabbit. "Tell us what kind of adventure we just had." Skratch paused. "Then get me a drink." The Wabbit gestured behind him. "The waiter is busy." Wabsworth called to the waiter. "Creatures dying of thirst here." His voice carried all his android authority. "Arrivo," smiled the waiter, "I was just writing special half-price offer on Prosecco," He went into the bar. "It was an odd adventure, filled with symbolic meaning." Lapinette raised a paw. "Museums offer a discourse about the past." Wabsworth agreed, He knew little about the past, being an android, so he said so. "I see it as a social construct, modified by the view of the observer." The Wabbit laughed. "Then history is what we make it." Skratch screeched. "History lies in the paws of the state and is much modified to suit the ruling class of the time." They all nodded. "But it resists change and will bite the bum of people who try." He looked to his right and noticed the waiter arriving with drinks. "And no prosecco is the curse of the working cat." Then despite the heat, they laughed until they dropped.
