Susan spotted the Wabbit and Lapinette in one of the many lanes in the artisan district and thought it best to drop Lapinette there and then. Lapinette found herself ejected onto the cobbles. "Eeeek," she yelled. Wabsworth and the Wabbit stared blankly. There were flowers and plants everywhere. "Glad you could drop in!" said the Wabbit. Lapinette waved her paws. "These plants are all over the place, they're taking over!" The Wabbit looked down aghast. "I thought it was a new initiative by the Mayor. You know, for the pilgrims." He brushed frantically at his fur. But the plants were hard to shift. Wabsworth did the same. "I've got some systemic weedkiller in my fur. It might do the trick." But there was no way to detach from the sticky tendrils. Passers-by made their way along the lane but were quickly overcome by sticky green weeds. They all looked up. Susan was hovering overhead. "Can she pull us free?" yelled the Wabbit. "I don't think so," said Lapinette, "She had difficulties earlier." The Wabbit began frantically search his coat. "I have a pair of secateurs I got in a market." As the Wabbit fiddled around, Lapinette started to yank him away. By this time Wabsworth was able to free himself - and he joined in. Together they pulled and pulled, until with a sound like a suction cup the Wabbit managed to detach himself. "Who said flowers were delicate?" he moaned. "The flower people?" retorted Lapinette.
