The Wabbit received a crackly call on his walkie talkie. The Department was anxious for him to confirm, and he set off immediately. He spoke to no-one in particular. "I think it's that mission Wabsworth was on about." Wabsworth's voice chimed in. "The second one - and you should really terminate group calls properly." The Wabbit growled "Out," and shoved the radio in his back pocket. When he arrived, Lapinette was already investigating. The fire had ravaged a pub, but things appeared strange. "Oh. You got here at last." She didn't turn her head. The Wabbit scrambled on top of the borrowed fire truck. "I hope you got a chit for this." Lapinette's voice was cool. "In your filing cabinet, under "e". "For expenses?" asked the Wabbit. "For expedite this immediately," replied Lapinette. The Wabbit paused for a moment. "Isn't that ember hot?" he asked. "That's the funny thing," mused Lapinette. "This was a raging fire this morning, but none of the ashes are remotely warm." She waved a paw through the flames. Nothing happened. "As cold as death's chill hand." The Wabbit shuddered. "I prefer cold as a dead rabbit's nose." "Now that's creepy!" Lapinette smiled and looked worried at the same time. She pointed into the distance. Similar heaps of embers lay scattered. "It appears to be spreading." "And all of them as chilly as the moon?" grinned the Wabbit. Lapinette grunted. "Chillier."
