The Wabbit was drifting up Via Gregorio VII, deep in contemplation. It was a fine Hogmanay afternoon. Things were quiet. All the shops were closed, even the Wabbit's favourite bar. A few stragglers made their way home, bearing liquid refreshment. The sun threw long tranquil shadows on the sidewalk. A sudden shout split the silence. "What ho, Commander!" Wabsworth had crept up on the Wabbit and aimed to surprise him. "Hello Wabs, what gives?" said the Wabbit. Wabsworth gave him a funny look. "You know what day this is?" "Aye," said the Wabbit, "It's Hogmanay." They both walked up the road together. "Are we ganging thegither?" asked Wabsworth. "Like freedom and whisky?" laughed the Wabbit. "Best not to peak too early," Wabsworth smiled. He was an android copy of the Wabbit, so he knew all that stuff. "Where's Lapinette? Cleaning the house?" The Wabbit grinned. "She left that to the Department. She's giving a pre New Year address to the powers that be." "Who be they?" asked Wabsworth. The Wabbit turned to look at Wabsworth. "They be the high heid yins." Wabsworth cackled. "Kilts wae tweed jaikets and haggis filled sporrans?" The Wabbit shrugged. "Some things never change." Wabsworth shrugged too. "Ah weel, Happy Hogmanay?" The Wabbit pretended to look appalled. "You know fine weel no-one ever says that."
