The Wabbit made a sudden dash for the door and down the stairs. He was too fast for the waiter. Tucked under his arm, the painting threatened to escape, but the Wabbit secured it and carried on. He could hear cries behind him but ignored them. He scurried round the entrance and back into the museum. A handy corner afforded him a hiding place. Museum staff came and went. He could hear them as they searched for a missing painting. "Where is it?" shouted an irate attendant. "It's Just Stop Oil up to one of their idiot pranks," shouted another. There was confusion. There was yelling. There was consternation. The Wabbit smiled and shrank further into the corner. "I'm an international art thief," he grinned. Sirens wailed outside. "I seem to have caused an incident," thought the Wabbit. He activated a switch under his fur and all but vanished. Voices became louder. "What's been stolen?" asked a policeman. "We're looking for it," said an attendant. "Looking for what?" said the policeman." The attendant shrugged. "We don't know, we just know it's missing." The policeman rocked back and forward on his heels. "What's it called?" The attendant shrugged. The Curator loomed into sight. "Nothing's missing. The entire museum has been searched. Nothing has gone at all." The Wabbit grinned. His plan was going well.
