The Wabbit has an Ethical Dilemma

The Wabbit was surprised by the conclusion of events which he, the Wabbit, had put in motion. Various authorities had arrived for Skratch and the puma. But now the puma looked cramped and there was grumpiness and complaints about the work entailed. Sometimes the Wabbit despaired and it was one of these moments. He shook his head back and forth because he did not wish to hear about documentation concerning licensing, validations, approvals, consents, authorisations, endorsements, authentications, attestations, compliances or evidential proofs. Even less did he wish to hear about poor conditions of employment, annual leave, long working hours and a host of other iniquities allegedly suffered by agencies who were supposed to work in co-operation with the Wabbit's department. The Wabbit looked at Skratch and Skratch looked at the Wabbit. They shared annoyed glances and grimaces were exchanged. The Wabbit was tempted to loosen Skratch's restraints, turn the other way and propel the puma back to the undergrowth and freedom. So the Wabbit hopped forward. "Do not poke, prod or otherwise torment this fine puma or I will file a special report. It will create so much paperwork that you will have no time off until your retirement." Everyone went pale except the puma, who was naturally beige. Skratch shook the Wabbit's paw and stepped into the bus. "Be seeing you," said the Wabbit, winking.

The Wabbit makes an Arrest

The Wabbit was so furious that he employed his special powers. So seldom did he use them that he hardly noticed his giant leap to the top of the building. At once he sprang on Skratch and pinned him by the shoulder. "Ouch!" said Skratch."Let go!" "I arrest you under the laws and codes laid down by the Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species of Wild Fauna and Flora," said the Wabbit at length. The Wabbit didn't really know the ins and outs of the legal position, but he knew he did not care. "I didn't know, it wasn't me," said Skratch. "The puma was already here when I arrived." "Species smuggling is forbidden," said the Wabbit. "You should be ashamed. That puma is a fellow feline." "I quite like him," said Skratch. "And you would sell him into servitude," said the Wabbit. "That's just not fair." "Perhaps we can come to an accommodation," said Skratch, who's arm was hurting. "I have some accommodation in mind for you," said the Wabbit and you may get time off for good behaviour." The Wabbit fished in his his fur for his communication device and when he found it, he indiscriminately pressed as many keys as he could find. "I'm calling this one in, Skratch. Perhaps Lapinette will find time to visit. I don't know why she has a soft spot for you." "Please don't tell her," said Skratch. "Perhaps we can come to an accommodation," smiled the Wabbit.

The Wabbit and the Curious Case of the Puma

The Wabbit found himself in the grounds of an old abandoned hospital and he hopped around the first building he came to. But what he saw pacing the grounds made him come to a sudden halt. A puma stood in the long grass. If the Wabbit knew his pumas, he knew one thing. They had unfortunate eating habits. So the Wabbit stayed upwind and out of the puma's stomach. He crouched in the shade of the building and watched as the puma strolled up and down. "Pumas seem to stroll a lot," thought the Wabbit. As long as the puma was strolling it wasn't eating. So the Wabbit hoped it continued to stroll and he stayed very calm and still. Then out the corner of his eye he saw that flash of red again and it came from high on the roof. "Skratch!" said the Wabbit quietly to himself. He had been so concerned with the puma that he had almost forgotten his adversary. There and then, in single moment of clarity, the Wabbit knew he knew everything. Well, almost everything - so he thought quickly. "The puma is a native of the Americas," he mused, "and he is endangered. This fellow should not be here." The Wabbit rather sympathised with the plight of the puma despite his tastes in food. "The Wabbit realised with horror that Skratch has moved from stealing silverware to smuggling. "And here the matter ends," said the Wabbit.

The Wabbit and the River Wild

The Wabbit couldn't believe his eyes. When Skratch plunged into the swirling river he rubbed them both with his paws and looked again. He knew that Skratch hated water as much he hated birds and the water looked none too clean. Skratch headed against the current and the Wabbit hopped into the water and stayed close behind. The Wabbit was a strong swimmer. Like the marsh wabbits with whom he had carried out his training, his hind legs had slightly less fur and longer nails. So he punted along happily and with considerable stealth. "I think," thought the Wabbit, "that Skratch has an even more secret hideout which can be readily reached by water." It was easy to swim after Skratch since he splashed far too much and made a wheezing noise that was audible even above the sound of the rushing waters. Skratch disappeared round a bend but the the Wabbit knew exactly where he was because he could hear him making sounds like a deflating air mattress. The Wabbit watched as Skratch made his way up the river bank and followed him through the dense undergrowth onto a curious walled island full of strange dilapidated buildings.

The Wabbit and the Ruined House

The Wabbit raced around the building. His powerful rear legs punted him at an enormous speed and little white puffs of city dust trailed behind him. He could see something red near the side of the river so he screeched to a halt. His sharp eyes caught a feline flash near an old ruined house. "Just the sort of place that Skratch would hole up," thought the Wabbit colloquially. He adopted a slower and more cautious pace and quietly circled round the back. There were signs everywhere that said "Danger of Accident" and "Keep off", which the Wabbit duly ignored. He hopped onto what remained of the roof and peered through the ruined rafters. There, by a wall on the ground floor, was a collection of premium cat food tins, a comfortable basket, a state-of-the-art digital radio and a sack brimming with silver ornaments. The Wabbit made a soft whistling sound and chattered his teeth gently. "Skratch's lair, I'll be bound," he thought. "I'm going to flush him out." He stretched out a paw and taking a twig, he startled a bird in the rafters. The Wabbit figured Skratch would have an extreme reaction to wing-ed things and he was right. Skratch yowled loudly and chased after the bird, and the Wabbit carefully followed.

The Wabbit carries out Surveillance

The Wabbit followed the woman until she entered a narrow courtyard and went into a pet shop. "Aha! A pet shop, eh?" said the Wabbit enigmatically to himself. The Wabbit's briefing papers indicated that pet shops were sometimes used illicitly by the sinister agents of Rabit. No-one, far less the pet shop owners, knew of Rabit's clandestine activities. So the Wabbit hopped right up and onto the low roof. He looked up and down the street and watched all the people going in and out of the pet shop. The Wabbit counted them in and he counted them back out again. But of the sinister agents of Rabit, he could find no trace. The Wabbit began to think that on this occasion he would have to admit he had drawn a blank. There was simply nothing to report. Suddenly his wabbit instinct urged him to jump to the side. There was a resounding crash just where the Wabbit had been standing and a heavy object smashed to smithereens on the base of the pet shop sign. He looked up to the adjacent building to see from whence it came and caught a flash of red as Skratch the Cat Burglar disappeared across the rooftops. "Gotcha," said the Wabbit. "Skratch my friend. Your days of freedom are most certainly numbered."

The Wabbit takes the Tram across the Dora

The Wabbit had received special instructions to take the Number 9 tram to Corso Swizzera and to hop around the area. He had been warned it was rather industrial with a number of hideaways that were perfect for the Agents of Rabit. The Carabinieri had also been kind enough to advise him that Skratch the Cat Burglar had been recently released from custody. Apparently he was likely to have gone to ground in the same district. The Wabbit wondered whether Skratch had forged some kind of alliance with Rabit but resisted the thought. "If Skratch is anything, he is independent," thought the Wabbit. "He's probably casing a joint in order to relieve some poor person of their expensive and treasured diamonds." The Wabbit looked out of the tram window and it didn't seem possible. The tram had just passed across the River Dora and the Wabbit could see industrial units in every cranny. This was clearly not a diamonds place but one of yards and vehicles and shops selling tyres and pneumatic compressors. The Wabbit couldn't envisage Skratch using a pneumatic compressor unless it was to help drill through the door of a safe. "Oh, I suppose pneumatic compressors have got to come from somewhere," mused the Wabbit as he got off the tram. "That woman seems in quite a hurry. I'll go her way and see what's what." The Wabbit quickly loped across the tram lines in pursuit and hopped south towards the river.

The Wabbit joins the Procession

The Wabbit happily marched - or rather hopped - along the Corso Vittorio Emanuele II with the Carabinieri. "I only went out for carrots," he thought, "and look what happened." It wasn't easy hopping alongside the Carabinieri but the procession was, as he had been advised, informal enough. Each time they passed a group of onlookers the Wabbit heard polite clapping and he nodded his head in acknowledgement. Some people seemed to know the Wabbit and he heard them say to each other "Oh look! Isn't that the Wabbit?" Then the Wabbit heard someone say "What a smart coat that Wabbit is wearing," and he was relieved because he was not wearing his formal cape. He noticed a man who kept running ahead to take photographs and each time the man focused his camera, the Wabbit straightened up and looked directly ahead. "I think he must like my coat," thought the Wabbit and murmured, "perhaps I will speak to him later and order some prints." "Commander Wabbit," said the officer next to him. "Will you join us later for our gala dinner?" "May I bring Lapinette, my beloved?" said the Wabbit. "The Lapinette?" said the officer. "The same," said the Wabbit. A palpable frisson rippled though the ranks. "She will be wondering what happened to her carrots," said the Wabbit. "Our commanding officer will send an official invitation," said the officer. "And the carrots?" worried the Wabbit. "We'll send a bouquet." said the officer. "That'll fix it," thought the Wabbit.

The Wabbit and the Carabinieri

The Wabbit had only popped down to the supermarket for a bag of carrots when he heard a commotion. He couldn't help hopping round the corner to see what it was. There were Carabinieri everywhere and they were having a special celebration. "Commander!" The Wabbit looked around and around. "He must be important," thought the Wabbit. "I want to see who it is." He looked and looked and looked - and then he realised that it was he, the Wabbit, who was the Commander. "Hop up here Commander! This is Pegasus," The Wabbit hopped onto a platform and spoke to the officer. "You must be part of the Corazzieri, said the Wabbit thinking quickly. "Your fine mottto is Virtus in periculis firmior." The Wabbit was, as usual, hopelessly out of touch with military matters. "Cavalry Sir. Thank you anyway Sir" said the officer. The Wabbit was now regretting he had neglected to put on his formal cloak, but he had only ventured out for carrots. "My uniform is rather inadequate to the occasion, I'm afraid," said the Wabbit. "Don't worry sir, this is a gathering of the Carabinieri Association and everyone that has ever been in the Carabinieri can be here. It is quite informal." "I won't have to make a speech then," said the Wabbit. "Well you can if you want. You are quite well-known." the officer said encouragingly. The Wabbit thought about it. "Perhaps later," said the Wabbit. "May I stroke Pegasus?" "Base of my ears please," said Pegasus.
Virtus in periculis firmior: Courage becomes stronger in danger

The Wabbit up on the Roof

"Lets go up on the roof," said Lapinette, "and talk about our most recent adventures." "OK," said the Wabbit. "But strictly speaking. We didn't have an adventure per se. We just moved around." "Per se?" echoed Lapinette. "Don't be so stuffy. Moving around is always an adventure." "Ouch," said the Wabbit as Lapinette suddenly dug him in the ribs. "Ouch," he said again as she pulled down one of his ears and whispered "Come on." Then without further ado she hopped out onto the ledge and dangled her paws in the air. The Wabbit hopped out too and found the experience rather exhilarating. "What shall we do now?" said the Wabbit. "Sing," said Lapinette. "Sing what? said the Wabbit. "Up on the roof," said Lapinette. "OK, G Major. You first," said the Wabbit quickly. Lapinette put one paw over her left ear and started. "Right smack dab in the middle of town. I've found a paradise that's trouble proof. Up on the roof!" And she swung her legs back and forward with glee. The Wabbit started to enjoy himself too and he continued. "And if this world starts getting you down.There's room enough for two. Up on the roof. Up on the roof!" "Up on the roo-oo-oof," warbled Lapinette. "Oh, come on, honey," spoke the Wabbit deeply."Up on the roo-oof." "I liked that," said Lapinette. "So did I," said the Wabbit. "Lets stay up here all night." And so they did.

The Wabbit enjoys a merry jest with Lapinette

"Nice car you got there," said the Wabbit. "Does it use much fuel?" "Most amusing," said Turbina the Jet Car. The Wabbit could hear her fuel pump ticking threateningly and ignored it. "Perhaps you're going my way?" said Lovely Lapinette. "I could drop you off." "I'm not sure that would be proper," said the Wabbit, "because people might talk." "Let's fly in the face of convention," said Lapinette. "My parents might disapprove of me accepting a lift from a beautiful lady wabbit with a fast car," said the Wabbit. "They're not here," said Lapinette, "and I promise not to tell." "Well," said the Wabbit. "If you assure me you will drive carefully, I may accept." "I aways drive carefully," said Lapinette. "You'll keep your paws on the wheel and your eyes on the road?" said the Wabbit. "My eyes and my paws are at your disposal," said Lapinette. "And I can play any music I like? asked the Wabbit. "Within reason," said Lapinette. "I am a reasonable Wabbit," said the Wabbit. "That's not exactly what I heard," said Lapinette. "But I'll take your word for it." "I can take no more," said Turbina and both her doors swung open. "Lets go," said the Wabbit and they both jumped in. Turbina's wheels span as she leapt forward and flames from her afterburner scorched a line on the road the whole way home.

The Wabbit and the Original Big Red Train

The driver and his mate got down from the Big Red Train at Torino Porta Nuova, but the Wabbit lingered. He couldn't help looking at the controls and his paws twitched at the sight of them. He was itching to push, pull or switch something, anything as long as he could touch it. Suddenly he heard a voice and it was speaking to the Wabbit. "Do you want to see something Wabbit?" The Wabbit looked all around and he could see nothing. But he spoke back anyway. "I do like seeing things," he said. "Watch out of the window!" said the voice and the Wabbit looked out. "Wow," said the Wabbit. They were no longer in the railway station. They were in the street, by a park and there were cars and lamp posts and signs. "I am the original Big Red Train. The first of the line!" said the Big Red Train. And the Wabbit could see the train was a bit different. "How did you do pull that switcheroo thing?" asked the Wabbit in slang. "Quantum mechanics," said the train. "OK," said the Wabbit. The Wabbit had heard of quantum mechanics and he knew this was theoretically possible. "I thought I'd bring you near to your lodgings," said the train. "Don't worry, they'll be along in a minute." "Who'll be along in a minute?" asked the Wabbit. "Your pals, Lapinette and Turbina." "So how do you that then - quantum mechanics?" said the Wabbit. "By telephone," said the train.

The Wabbit jumps on the Footplate

The Wabbit always liked to nod to the train driver. He felt it was only right and proper that he or she should be properly acknowledged. The train driver was aboard and he leaned from his window and looked down at the Wabbit and shouted. "Hey wabbit, are you coming with me?" "Yes," replied the Wabbit. "I am going to Torino." "Why don't you hop aboard with me," said the driver. "Oh may I?" said the Wabbit politely. "Are you certain that is permissible?" "Believe you me I know the rule book," said the driver, "and it don't say nothing about wabbits, that's for sure." So the Wabbit hopped up and into the cab of the big red train and then he hopped about and looked all around. There were many dials and switches that reminded him of Turbina the Jet Car and he kept his paws away from them, just in case he was suddenly propelled into a railway version of a time vortex. "Perhaps I can help you shovel the coal into the furnace," said the Wabbit with a twinkle in his eye. The driver's eyes became as wide as saucers until he realised that the Wabbit was pulling his leg. "Hey Giuseppe," he called to his mate. "We've got a live wire here!" And they laughed and laughed and laughed. And as the train pulled out of the station they were laughing still.

The Wabbit kills time in Rome

The Wabbit was at a loose end. He hopped around and he hopped around until his paws were so sore that he knew he was missing Turbina, his jet car. There were many tough traffic restrictions in Rome and they had so many penalties for minor infractions that not even Turbina's friends in the Carabinieri could get her a special pass. "Silly restrictions!" muttered the Wabbit. The Wabbit hopped right past the Coliseum. He avoided the tourist traps because he was looking for a special market where he had once purchased a very fine pair of paw warmers for only 2 Euro. "It's around here somewhere, I know it is," thought the Wabbit. "Someone must have moved it," he grumbled and stamped his back leg. He had looked with disapproval at the mock medieval market with its little white tents, because it was not the kind of market that met with the Wabbit's approval. The Wabbit liked big bustling markets with many different things sold very cheaply. "I want a rufty-tufty market," he complained to himself. A rufty-tufty market in the Wabbit's view offered some element of danger: a place where the Wabbit had to have his wits about him or he might be fleeced. Neither did he want a jar of caramelised carrots for 25 Euro. What the Wabbit wanted was to come across a rare jazz CD and no-one but the Wabbit would know its real value. This only happened on extremely rare occasions. "It's the seeking that counts, Lapinette," said the Wabbit to Lapinette's advertisement, which was everywhere. "Seek then, Wabbit," said Lapinette's advertisement. "I knew that would happen," said the Wabbit.

The Wabbit and the Dubious Civil Servant

The Wabbit had just stepped out of the Antimafia Office, where had picked up a dossier on the sinister Agents of Rabit. He had only paused for a moment when a very strange man sidled up to him. "Nice coat," said the man. The Wabbit thought the man's suit was quite woeful . "Che brutta," he murmured and commented out loud on his hat. "A good hat opens many doors," said the Wabbit, because it was the first thing he thought of saying. "and closes them," said the man. The Wabbit had not the slightest clue what the man meant and said nothing. "Why are you here?" said the man. "I am but a tourist, killing time before my tour of the Coliseum," said the Wabbit carefully. "Perhaps I can help you kill time," said the man. "It would be a favour." The Wabbit ignored an offer that he considered impertinent. "Why are you here?" said the Wabbit. "I am a special adviser and I came here to help the government," said the man. The Wabbit concealed his enormous disbelief. "Then you are surely a kind of civil servant," said the Wabbit and added "I am also a kind of civil servant." "Then your pension will be a good one," said the man. "Yes," said the Wabbit. "When I retire I shall be a Tourist for Life." At this, the strange man gave up. "Tu parli troppo*" said the man and he sidled off from whence he came. The Wabbit knew he had managed to out-talk his annoying companion and celebrated his departure with a retort. "Pazzo," muttered the Wabbit.
*You talk too much