The Wabbit has to Jump

The Wabbit didn't take long to circle the parapet and he was already expecting a helichopper. But he had not expected such a special welcome. He looked out from the railings, astonished. Lovely Lapinette was piloting and his bodyguard, Franco Contadino looked out. Much to the Wabbit's surprise. Sergio Marchionne was there sitting beside Clari Csuk, the Wabbit's designer."Sir" Jump. Sir!" Franco called out to the Wabbit in his usual manner, cutting easily through the din of the engines and the rotor blades. The Wabbit's ears were buffeted by the wind from the blades and he shivered as his fur ruffled all over. He glanced over the rail and it looked a long, long way down, even for a wabbit. "New helichopper, Franco," shouted the Wabbit. He was trying to appear nonchalant but his voice was shaky. "Courtesy of Sergio, Sir! Less turbulence, Sir." Lapinette inched the helichopper in closer. "I can't get in any further than this Wabbit, we'll lose the blades. Just make a big hop." Then he heard a familar voice. "Don't forget your special ears, Wabbit," yelled Clari who had invented them. "Of course," shouted the Wabbit and engaged his ears. They made a soft and curious humming noise, inaudible to most above the sound of the helichopper. But the Wabbit could hear them. "It's funny to think that your ears sound good," thought the Wabbit. "Here I come, ready or not," the Wabbit exclaimed. "I won't even bother to shut my eyes." And he hopped out from the parapet and through the helichopper door with consummate ease. The Wabbit looked out from the door and bad farewell to the Mole as Lapinette took the helichopper back and then up. Then quick as you like the Lovely Lapinettte wheeled it around and the helichopper became a small yellow dot on the horizon.

The Wabbbit gets to the High Place

The Wabbit hopped out of the lift and the first thing he saw was Moloch. "That was quick," said the Wabbit. "I'm a God," said Moloch. The Wabbit thought that was fair enough, but neglected to say so. "Of course I had to secure a favour," added Moloch. The Wabbit thought this was best left ignored. "What is next?" The Wabbit put that politely. "You have to go around until you are behind the school children. I will distract them." The Wabbit shot Moloch a warning look. "I will amuse them with one of my many jokes," said Moloch. The Wabbit smiled and glanced over Moloch's shoulder at the skyline. He was becoming familiar with the city. Far off he could see Lingotto and he briefly wondered about Sergio and his furry sweater. "Can't you hear anything?" Moloch was insistent. The Wabbit didn't have to prick up his special ears. Now he was acutely aware of the dull choppedy-choppedy of a helichopper. "Let me make sure," said the Wabbit. "Round to the other side, behind the school children. Helichopper waiting?" "I said I'd get you home. Be quick," said Moloch." I'm gone. Be seeing you," said the Wabbit. He put down his ears and hunched his shoulders. Moloch tilted his head back and bellowed. "Baaaambini!" All the children turned and took photographs. The Wabbit sprang round the parapet and as he did he could hear Moloch's voice fading. "A funny thing happened to me when I was in Carthage ... " The Wabbit winced and sprang on.

The Wabbit enters the Presence of Moloch

The Wabbit, who was now at the front of everyone, hopped through the entrance and found himself at the feet of Moloch. "That was quick," thought the Wabbit, who had been expecting to make more effort. "I'd better hop around to the front and address him directly." The Wabbit thought he could afford to do this because Moloch looked restrained enough. But he had heard of Moloch and murmured to himself, "Well who hasn't heard of Moloch?" The Wabbit was philosophical about Gods. It was becoming second nature to talk to this and that sort of being. "There appear to be rather many," surmised the Wabbit. "Waaaaaabbit!" Suddenly the God Moloch howled a long Howl. The Wabbit was taken aback but decided to reply in kind. "Moooooloch!" There was no response so the Wabbit carried on. "I have heard of you from Cabiria. I trust you will not require a sacrifice." "Oh I've given all that up," said Moloch. "I quite turned over a new leaf. I have a steady job here and it's a nice little earner." "Well done. Good for you," said the Wabbit. "Good for you," he added. He felt a lot better now that he knew no particular sacrifice was involved. "Draw closer small Wabbit," said Moloch. The Wabbit hopped cautiously forward. "Your mission is complete and transport home is arranged. You will leave from a high place. "The Wabbit wondered whether Moloch was speaking metaphorically, but he looked up high anyway. "Apologies Moloch, I'm a wabbit not a squirrel," he said. "Take the lift, said Moloch. "Silly me," said the Wabbit.

The Wabbit revisits an Old Haunt

The Wabbit's hop turned in to a stroll. Insofar as it could be said that wabbits can stroll, the Wabbit had worked hard and practiced. Now, in his view, he felt he had perfected the art of the wabbit stroll. The Wabbit turned to look up, since he had been told that if he looked up he couldn't miss the Mole Antonelliana the symbol of Turin. The Wabbit had been known to miss quite large things, so every so often he suddenly looked up and around. "Do you know," mused the Wabbit. "I think I've seen this high place before." And he thought and thought and thought. Then it came to him in an instant and he remembered. "This is where I was, when I was in the Wrong Museum." The Wabbit wondered for a while if it was possible to be in the wrong museum. While he was wondering, a choppedy-choppedy sound took his attention, so he kept staring up for a while and squinted through his special glasses. It wasn't Franco Contadino's helichopper but it did look nice against the blue sky. The Wabbit's thoughts turned to his new attaché. What was Franco doing at this very moment? The Wabbit turned to the street and with some difficulty, hopped through the hundreds of school children. He avoided their many feet and the flashes from their phone cameras and studied the long queue for the museum. "Mmm," said the Wabbit. Then he spotted some senior citizens with special passes. "I also have a special pass," said the Wabbit loudly. So he took it out of his bag and waved it in the air as he attached himself to the silver-haired group. Soon he was in the museum. And he was right at the very front.

The Wabbit talks Hard Boiled.

The weather had improved by the time the Wabbit found his contact. He had only had to lope after the bus. When he reached Porta Nuova station, he knew where he was. The Wabbit hopped through familiar territory until he reached the Piazza San Carlo. "This is the time, this is the place, this is the fellow," murmured the Wabbit. He put his front paws on the wall and looked right up. The statue moved and spoke. "You the Wabbit?" " None other, " said the Wabbit. "You could use a drink," said the statue. "Do I look like I could use a drink," said the Wabbit. "Everyone could use a drink," said the statue. "May as well," said the Wabbit. The Wabbit had a good long drink and was surprised. He was instantly refreshed. The Wabbit patted his mouth with his paws. "You got further instructions," he said. It was a question but it came out like a statement. "Everyone needs further instructions," said the statue. The Wabbit thought the statue was a bit of a wise guy, and an old wise guy at that. He decided that he would humour him. "I gotta steer from Turbina, said you had the lowdown." Sure" said the statue "I'm a regular 411." This was lost on the Wabbit, but he ploughed on. "I'm supposed to see some guy." "You gotta see Moloch down at the Mole. He the main man. Importantly important." The Wabbit was ruffled. "That's my line," he murmured to himself. "Be seeing you," he said out loud and suddenly jumped in the water. He shook himself rapidly and water sprayed all around. Ignoring the high pitched yelps from the students on the wall, he hopped casually towards the Mole Antonelliana.

The Wabbit ponders in the City

The Wabbit loped across the city. Things were changing here and the Wabbit didn't like it. It was dry and dusty and grit blew in his eyes. He turned up his fur against the sharp wind and hopped onwards. Why was there so much travelling? Why were there so many instructions? Why hadn't he taken the Metro? There were too many questions for the Wabbit. So he tried to stop asking them and keep going. Three blocks west, two blocks north. What was it exactly that Turbina had said? "That was one more question," thought the Wabbit. He looked at the overcast sky and looked down again. He looked up and down and around. Then he hopped under some scaffolding and stopped. Some people passed but they didn't see the Wabbit. They were too busy eating ice cream. "Funny place to eat ice cream," thought the Wabbit. But then, as he readily acknowledged, there were some things that he had never quite worked out. The Wabbit thought if he could reach a main thoroughfare, he would know where he was. Then, even if it took longer, he could get to where had to go. In the distance he could see big orange buses rumble past, crowded with passengers. "That'll do," said the Wabbit to himself. Suddenly the Wabbit was gone. But a child saw the Wabbit and pointed. "Isn't that a wabbit running after a bus?" Her mother turned and spoke firmly. "Wabbits," she said, wiping ice cream from the child's face. "Wabbits ... are not in the habit of running after buses."

The Wabbit talks to the Rear

The Wabbit had never seen a car like this one. But he was even more astonished when The Car spoke straight out of its rear - and anything that spoke from its rear amused the Wabbit. "There is another like me. You must take delivery of that one for the family of Lapinette," said The Car. The Wabbit's eyebrows shot straight in the air. When this happened, they appeared to be attached to his ears - which he knew looked rather amusing to onlookers. He caught sight of himself reflected in the chrome of the car and could barely suppress a laugh. "You are a most funny Wabbit," he said to himself. "When will this be, Talking Car?" The Wabbit felt he had to ask, otherwise he would be at the mercy of circumstances. The last thing that the Wabbit wanted was to be at the mercy of circumstance, although he felt he was constantly placed in that position. "My name is Turbina," said The Car, and spat some fumes from its rear. "Pleased to meet you," said the Wabbit, coughing a bit. The Wabbit wondered when The Car would get to the point. "Delivery," said The Car, "will be in due course." The Wabbit groaned and waited for the inevitable, which duly arrived. "Wabbit! First you must go ... "

The Wabbit talks to the Talking Jet Car

The voice continued as the Wabbit peered inside The Car. "Are you satisfied with the data display, Wabbit?" "Yes," said the Wabbit. He couldn't help answering The Car. The Car continued. "I was commissioned by the family of Lapinette in 1953. I am a prototype." "Oh really," said the Wabbit. The Wabbit paused for thought. The Wabbit's first thought was that he should have known that Lapinette had something to do with this. But still, the Wabbit didn't know what to say to The Car. When he didn't know what to say he always covered his confusion by asking a lot of questions. So he asked The Car about the purpose of all the instruments and when he had exhausted the topic, he asked about the fuel consumption. "I'd rather not say," said The Car, in a somewhat offhand fashion. "OK," said the Wabbit and he dropped the matter. The Wabbit hopped down and around to the rear of The Car. "This is interesting and different," he stated, in a matter-of-fact fashion that he reserved for interesting and differerent matters of fact.

The Wabbit looks at a Jet Car

The Wabbit reached the exhibit detailed in the instructions, given to him by Sergio. "Oooh, said the Wabbit. The Wabbit always said "Oooh" when he was at a loss for words. So he said it again . "Oooh! " Then he paused for more thoughts. "This is a most serviceable vehicle!" The Wabbit hopped all around the car and then he hopped back again. He hopped underneath and looked at everything he could look at. He hopped to the front and he hopped to the back. "This would save my paws all right," he thought to himself. The he hopped around once more for good measure. "When would you like to to take delivery, Mr Wabbit?" The Wabbit was sure he had heard a voice from somewhere. He was fairly certain it was not a talking car, although it looked like it could do most things. The Wabbit looked all round for the source of the voice. He decided he wasn't going to reply to the voice unless he knew where it came from. "Up here, Mr Wabbit!" The voice seemed to be coming from inside the car. So using his special ears, the Wabbit hopped up and hovered. And then he peered through the window ...

The Wabbit gets a Day at the Museum

It wasn't far to hop to the Museum of Automobiles. The Wabbit had hoped that Sergio might give him a lift and save his paws, but Sergio just couldn't stop working. Probably he was in a helichopper at this very moment, thought the Wabbit. But Sergio's directions were extremely precise and the Wabbit had tucked them safely in his bag. "What an imposing building," thought the Wabbit and he wondered if it could be any bluer. But after a good look he knew was wabbit friendly. The Wabbit hopped on the wall and paused for thought. He basked in the sun for a bit and wondered what it it would be liked if he never paused for thought. He thought that would be very boring indeed. So he lay along the wall and stretched all his paws out. Then he took Sergio's notes from his bag and he read them most thoroughly. He was to proceed through the front door of the museum and go upstairs to see a particular exhibit. At that stage he would receive further instructions. The Wabbit asked himself if there was ever an end to further instructions. Then the Wabbit answered himself that there wasn't. Then the Wabbit asked himself if he would like it if there were no further instructions. And again he answered himself that then he would then have to make up his own instructions. By the end of the conversation the Wabbit was tired. So he hauled himself up and hopped off the wall and made his way around the blue building.

The Wabbit gets the offer of New Brakes

The Wabbit did not have time to worry about how to stop. As he reached the bottom of the ramp, the plush executive had somehow got to the bottom before him. With a single bound, he leaped over the wall and stuck his foot out, right in front of the Wabbit. "Woah," said the Wabbit as he flipped high in the air. He seemed to be heading straight down when all at once he found himself safely in the arms of the executive. "You need to work on stopping, Wabbit," said the executive. "Maybe I do at that," gasped the Wabbit. The executive held on to the Wabbit who was puffing and panting. "My name is Sergio, Wabbit. Why do you call me the plush executive?" "Because of your fur," said the Wabbit, taking the opportunity to snuggle a bit in Sergio's jumper. Sergio set the Wabbit down on all four paws. "That was good, very good. I think we can use that. Where did you learn how to cartwheel?" "At my father's knee, or some other low joint," quipped the Wabbit who had recovered enough to make a bad joke. Sergio groaned long and loud. "I think I can help you with brakes, Wabbit. But first I need you to take a look at something." The Wabbit sat on his hind legs and smiled his wabbit smile. He liked the idea of brakes very much indeed. On the other hand he felt quite exhausted. "Is it far?" asked the Wabbit.

The Wabbit Takes Off

The plush executive planned to watch the Wabbit start but before he knew what had happened the Wabbit had disappeared. Without warning, the Wabbit sprang straight into a sprint. Then he swung around and dabbed his right rear leg against the wall, levering his whole wabbit body into the cartwheel position. By this time, the Wabbit was just a blur as he vanished round the first corner. With all of his 28 teeth bared, the Wabbit emitted a low growl as he cartwheeled round bend after bend, shaving off time as the ramp spiralled down. He also shaved off a substantial quantity of fur against the wall as he took sharp bends at an increasing rate. Hosts of brown-coated technicians with clip boards and stop watches swivelled their heads as the Wabbit cartwheeled past at astonishing speed. The Wabbit's knew that his cartwheel was for the most part instinctive. But the new ears had given his instinct an edge. The Wabbit was going faster and with more accuracy than ever before. But as the Wabbit spiralled down, he remembered something that he had pushed to the back of his mind. At some stage he was going to have to stop ...

The Wabbit gets a proposal he can't Refuse

"Ooooh," thought the Wabbit. "This could have been designed for the Wabbit." The plush executive spoke. "I think this could have been designed for you, Wabbit. This is the ramp to my racetrack on the roof." The Wabbit pretended he saw one of these every day and shifted his paws in a distracted manner. The plush executive explained to the Wabbit that he would be overjoyed if the Wabbit demonstrated his cartwheeling prowess from the top of the ramp to the very bottom. Of course, the Wabbit wanted nothing more than to race down at top speed. Yet clearly he was supposed to negotiate with the plush executive. The Wabbit decided to ask some technical questions, which he made up on the spot. He asked about height, breadth, length, curvature, velocity, surface temperature, torque, stresses and strains and anything else he considered vaguely relevant. When his questions were answered he nodded slightly, tapped his rear legs three times and hopped silently to the top of the ramp. Then he turned to the plush executive. "I want a complete report on all technical measurements. Nothing shall be omitted." The plush executive signalled his assent. "Watch me go." said the Wabbit.

The Wabbit gets a Special Invitation

Still examining the address on his papers, the Wabbit emerged from the lift and straight into a plush executive suite, with a plush executive man inside. The Wabbit hopped across the floor, scattering a large number of jazz CDs and some bits of car engine. "Whoops, there you go Mr Brubeck, Charlie Mingus pardon me, sorry for the paws, Billie," said the Wabbit flippantly. The Wabbit should have been taken aback but he somehow knew this would happen. He knew it in his fur. The imposing gentleman was fluent in many languages and spoke wabbit quite effectively. With a series of honks and oiks and some gentle purring, the executive asked the Wabbit to contribute to a special automobile development programme. "In what special and particular manner can I help you, imposing gentleman?" The Wabbit thought it best to be courteous. He was told that the new programme required importantly important knowledge that only the Wabbit could contribute. The Wabbit's cartwheel had been noticed and recorded but no-one could quite work out how he did it. Just for an instant the Wabbit was uncomfortable, because he didn't know either. The Wabbit decided to omit this vital piece of information, because his curiosity had got the better of him. "Perhaps you could demonstrate it," said the plush executive. "I need to be in the mood," replied the Wabbit cautiously. The executive opened a hidden door. "Please hop this way," he said firmly. "Perhaps this will interest you, Wabbit."

The Wabbit speeds along on the Metro

The Wabbit liked to be at the front. He knew that without doubt he was a bit of a speed freak - and even if the sign said the front seat was for children, it said nothing about wabbits. Stations came and stations went but the tunnel itself was special. After all, the Wabbit thought, tunnels were built for wabbits. It occurred to the Wabbit that it would be real cool if he could race through the tunnel at top speed on his own. Sometimes the Wabbit thought in a rather hippy manner that he could not quite discard, no matter how hard he tried. In any case, the Wabbit was headed for the end of the line and at that stage he was to go a special place for further instructions. Lapinette had been mysterious about her plan but the Wabbit knew it was something to do with transport. It always was. So the Wabbit relaxed. Usually if he followed his nose, there would be a good outcome. Therefore he would be laid back. The Wabbit heard himself thinking these thoughts and he knew in his heart that he wouldn't even like being "laid back". So he pulled his legs up under him and laid back and smiled. The train whooshed along and before the Wabbit had become comfortable, it pulled into the terminus and announced that it had. "Everything speaks these days," murmured the Wabbit.