7. The Wabbit Entertains

"Wabbit’s Cola all round!" said the Wabbit who had repaired to a very favourite caffè with which he had a convenient arrangement. The day was hot and the street was noisy. But above the din the Wabbit heard a familiar voice and turned to see Skratch bearing down on his table. "No, no Wabbit! They charge €3 for a Cola here!" Skratch yelled. "That’s because we’re sitting down and they bring delicious food with our drinks," said the Wabbit with an approving nod. "I don’t like coming here, they won’t let me pay," said Wabsworth, "apparently my money’s no good here." The Wabbit grinned. "I’ll bet you bring the money later and put it under the door." "I most certainly do," said Wabsworth, "how did you know?" "Lucky guess?" shrugged the Wabbit, winking at Skratch and turning back as Lapinette signalled everyone’s attention. "While I’m ordering Wabbit’s Colas, you decide what kind of adventure that was," she said brightly. "OK," said the Wabbit, "any suggestions?" "It could have been a disaster movie, with all these cans zooming around," said Lapinette over her shoulder. “Proceeding around," said the Wabbit. "They had purpose and direction," "Just like you?" smiled Lapinette. "Just like me!" beamed the Wabbit and they all laughed and laughed and laughed.

6. The Wabbit Reminded

By the light of the moon the friends patiently watched for any signs of the Drink Thief. Skratch had rounded up Wabsworth on the way so he could keep an eye on both him and the Wabbit. Then he hid behind a fence and they all waited. They didn’t have to wait long. From the gardener’s hut behind the bushes came a tinny clanging sound, as if someone had shaken a crate of Wabbit’s Cola. Then one by one, Wabbit’s Cola cans came sailing across their astonished eyes. The cans didn’t shoot around in all directions but proceeded in an orderly way in a straight line, as if they were going somewhere. Skratch jumped and pulled down a can for examination. "Wabbit, this can has a small chip glowing in the side," he said. The Wabbit slapped a paw to his forehead. "I forgot the self distributing circuit," he exclaimed, "but it’s new and it's not activated yet." "You mean you programmed the cans to distribute themselves to the shops?" queried Wabsworth. "More or less." said the Wabbit. "More, by the look of things," said Skratch. "Then what about recycling," asked Wabsworth with an interested expression. "That was my plan too," said the Wabbit, "the cans would take themselves to the recycling bank immediately on the best before date." "You go too far Wabbit," said Skratch. "Too far too fast," added Wabsworth. " I know," said the Wabbit and he shook his head. "But Wabbit, who was the Cola drinker who looked like you?" asked Skratch. "That must have been me," said Wabsworth, "but I paid." "How much? said the Wabbit. "€1.50," said Wabsworth. "Disgraceful!" shouted the Wabbit and he thought for a moment. "Where's my money?" he sighed.

5. The Wabbit sees Something Strange

The Wabbit was deep in thought as he passed the Automatic Food Kiosk in Via Genova. But he glanced in and couldn’t believe his eyes. He found himself watching Skratch the Cat Burglar put money in a slot and lifting a can of Wabbit’s Cola from a vending machine. "Skratch, that’s Wabbit’s Cola!" he yelled. "Very nice too, I must say," said Skratch. "It’s both tangy and refreshing with a hint of something special." Skratch opened the can, took a sip and stifled a little burp. "But it’s not on sale yet!" gasped the Wabbit. "I'm trying to find the thief that's stealing my supplies." "Your Cola's a little on the pricey side," ventured Skratch. "How much?" asked the Wabbit curiously. "A euro," said Skratch with raised eyes. The Wabbit paused for a moment. There was something else. Something the Wabbit had ignored. He struggled to make the connection but something wasn't right. “I have a suspicion I might have something to do with this, Skratch," he said. "You’re stealing your own Cola!" laughed Skratch. "Maybe I have selective amnesia or been hypnotised," said the Wabbit, "but I can’t be in two places at once." Skratch hesitated because he knew the Wabbit well - and where the Wabbit was concerned, anything was possible. Skratch had a sudden thought. "What about your android double?" he asked. The Wabbit shook his head. "Wabsworth would rather switch himself off than steal Cola," he said firmly. "Well come with me and we’ll watch your supplies and see what transpires," Skratch said calmly. "But first I'll have another can of that Cola." "I'll join you," said the Wabbit, and he searched in his fur for a coin.

4. The Wabbit gets Closer

For a moment the Wabbit thought the caffè was deserted. But he wheeled around and saw three Roman soldiers drinking Roman Cola. The Wabbit was getting used to meeting his enemies and took the bull by the horns. "Good Servants of the Republic. What pray, are your names?" "I am Poobus," said one Roman, "I am Bummus," said another. "And I am Smellius," said the third soldier. The Wabbit suppressed a grin. "I am Wabbitus and I am employed by Provincial Governor Cuniculus. He implores all citizens to unmask and bring to justice, the Drink Thief." "Of what drink do you speak?" said a soldier. "Wabbit’s Cola, future drink of the people," said the Wabbit. "I prefer Roman Cola," said the soldier and the others shook their heads at the thought of a different Cola from Roman Cola. "You’ll be honourably mentioned at Senate," said the Wabbit with his paws crossed. "In that case I did see a strange one with the Cola," said a Roman soldier. "Went to the same outfitter as you by the looks of it," said another. "Made to measure," said another.  “Really," said the Wabbit. "A snappy dresser! You have been most helpful." A soldier dug another in the ribs and pointed at the Wabbit. "If you're such a Roman, Wabitus, then riddle me this," he chuckled. "OK," said the Wabbit. "When was Rome built?" asked the soldier.  "At night," replied the Wabbit. The three soldiers looked at him in puzzlement. "Well Rome wasn’t built in the day," quipped the Wabbit and he hopped very quickly out. 

3. The Wabbit gets a Lead

Undercover at the shopping centre, the Wabbit spotted more of his enemies and he wondered why. But he was intent on his task. What relevance did Ice Mice have for his quest to find the Drink Thief? Could they be stealing his new invention, Wabbit’s Cola? The Wabbit decided to attract their attention. "Ice Mice, may I interest you in a Telepass?" he chortled chirpily. "No stopping for highway tolls. You can skip the lines!" "Don’t care," said an Ice Mouse. "We usually do." "Then perhaps I can offer you a deal for your delicious drinks," simpered the Wabbit. "What kind of a deal?" snarled an Ice Mouse. He turned and the Wabbit caught sight of his Cola. He could see it wasn't his, so he changed tactics. "Deals off," said the Wabbit, "but what do you think of your Cola?" "Warm," said the the first Ice Mouse. "Insipid," said the second. "Have you heard of Wabbit’s Cola?" asked the Wabbit cautiously. "I saw a can of that in a caffè round the corner," said an Ice Mouse. The Wabbit tried not to get excited. "Some Cola connoisseur of course," he suggested." "It was just sitting on a table, but the wabbit logo put me off," scowled an Ice Mouse. The Wabbit decided he would investigate this caffè but first he had to disengage from the Ice Mice so he adopted a disinterested air. "What film did you watch?” he asked with a bored face. "Ice Station Zebra," said an Ice Mouse and he studied the Wabbit very closely ."You do look familiar, what is your name?" he asked. "I operate on a first name basis," said the Wabbit. "My first name is Commander."

2. The Wabbit and the First Clue

The Wabbit hopped through the ancient exhibits on his way to the palace exit. He was rather familiar with all the displays, so he paused immediately when he saw a discarded can of Wabbit’s Cola, his new invention. A "clue!" cried the Wabbit and he searched deep in his fur to pull out a magnifying glass worthy of Sherlock Holmes. He thought he could see a paw print on the can but he didn’t recognise it so he peered closer. With his eyes so close to his magnifying glass, the Wabbit caught sight of a familiar yellow reflection in the rim, but he pretended not to notice. "What’s a lone Skuttle doing here?" he murmured to himself. "I’m a clue," said the Skuttle. "I don’t have time for Skuttles today," said the Wabbit. "I’m on a serious detective mission." "I’m a clue." repeated the Skuttle. The Wabbit shook his head. "I am," insisted the Skuttle, "so what do I represent to you?" The Wabbit thought of various things that couldn’t be mentioned in polite company. "You’re stealing my Cola?" he ventured. "We hate Cola," said the Skuttle.  The Wabbit pondered. "You like drinkin' wine," he said. "Spo-De-O-De!" sang the Skuttle triumphantly. "The thief is drinking the Cola, so it’s not Skuttles," thought the Wabbit and immediately that thought came into his head, the Skuttle began to disappear. "When I’ve eliminated all that is impossible, then whatever remains is the truth," thought the Wabbit. "No matter how improbable," whispered the Skuttle and it vanished into thin air.

1. The Wabbit and the Drink Thief

The Wabbit had for some time been working on a new drink to rival his favourite Irn Bru. His secret project was well protected by a friendly gardener, who tended the secluded garden of an old palace in the centre of town. There, hidden in a shed for organic waste, the Wabbit kept a hoard of his mysterious new drink. The drink had been a happy accident. The Wabbit liked to sip from a straw but one day, he ran out. He could only find the aerosol extension from his can of WD40 lubricating oil, so the Wabbit used that as a straw and it imparted a strange and earthy flavour to his new drink. Gradually, the Wabbit began to like it. Then his drink just didn’t taste right without a homeopathic dose of oil. All was going well until one sunny morning the Wabbit noticed that cans were disappearing, because the Wabbit was always counting things and he knew immediately. It definitely wasn’t the gardener because he didn’t like the Wabbit's new drink and had emphatically told him so on several occasions. So someone or something unknown was helping themselves. "I’m going to find out who this purloiner is and unmask him or her or it," muttered the Wabbit. "Wabbit’s the name. Gumshoe’s the game," he murmured as he took a sip of Wabbit’s Cola. "But first I need a clue." The Wabbit looked all round but he saw nothing that looked remotely like a clue. "I’m currently clueless," sighed the Wabbit. 

The Wabbits in the Jazz Club Caffè

Back in Turin, the Wabbit propelled Lapinette into one of his favourite haunts. He had asked the staff to be on the lookout for Romans and a waiter had assured him that he always was. Reassured, the Wabbit sat down to wait for a special cocktail of his own invention. "It’s taking ages," said Lapinette. "It has to be precise," said the Wabbit. "What do you call it?" smiled Lapinette. "It’s called a Jazz Wabbit," replied the Wabbit. Lapinette waited very patiently to hear about the ingredients but the Wabbit took his time. "It’s just like a carrot aperitivo," he said finally,"but instead of soda there’s Irn Bru." "But they won’t have any Irn Bru here," scoffed Lapinette. "I used to bring my own," smiled the Wabbit, "and now I hear that lots of people have been asking for Jazz Wabbits." Lapinette shook her head. "It will sweep the land no doubt," she said and she had a sudden vision of a bottle of Irn Bru in every fridge in Italy. "What sort of adventure do you feel you had this time?" she asked suddenly. "It was a dream so it doesn’t count," sighed the Wabbit. "It was a real dream," said Lapinette, "and in it was a detailed film epic, within a fur meta-text." The Wabbit looked shrewdly at Lapinette. "Have you been raiding my cinema library?" he asked. "No, I've heard you talk and I just made that up," said Lapinette. "Then what did the film think, and who did it talk to?" asked the Wabbit. "A film can't think," said Lapinette. "You'd be surprised," said the Wabbit.

9. The Wabbit Awakened

"Wake up Wabbit wake up!" The voice was insistent and something was tugging on his ear. The Wabbit gradually forced his eyes open. "What, who, where?" gasped the Wabbit. "You were dreaming," said Lovely Lapinette, "and you wouldn’t come to." "But it was so real," spluttered the Wabbit. "The 400 Rabbits captured the Romans, and you were in a most fetching uniform." "It must have been the fur treatment," sighed Lapinette. "How much did you put on?" "I splashed it on all over," said the Wabbit ruefully. "You’re supposed to use it sparingly," said Lapinette. "We hadn’t heard from you. We were worried." "But I radioed for help," said the Wabbit, "and no-one took me seriously." "That was in your dream," sighed Lapinette.  "Oh," said the Wabbit and he thought for a moment. "But what about the Romans?" he asked finally. "Dream," said Lapinette. The Wabbit was tentative. "The 400 Rabbits?" "Dream," said Lapinette. "And your cute uniform?" ventured the Wabbit. "In your dreams," smiled Lapinette. "Well you know what Freud said," stated the Wabbit. "I expect your going to tell me," said Lapinette. "Every dream is an unfulfilled wish," said the Wabbit. "You went on holiday for a rest but unconsciously you wanted excitement," interpreted Lapinette. "OK I suppose," agreed the Wabbit, "but what did you think of the film?" "I can’t possibly know, it was your dream," replied Lapinette, and she waved the fur treatment in front of his nose. "You can be in my dreams if I can be in yours," said the Wabbit. "It’s a deal," said Lapinette. 

8. The Wabbit and the Silver Screen

In a single instant the Wabbit found himself looking down on a massive outdoor cinema screen and he didn’t pause to think why. He knew he was watching a film of his recent adventure, but he didn’t give that a second thought. This was because the Wabbit was very keen on films and where cinemas were concerned he knew exactly what he wanted. Normally he would have sat at the front in the middle, because from that position he could assess whether the projection was just right. It was his custom to look back sternly at the projectionist in his box and then frown until the picture was correctly adjusted to his satisfaction. But now, even from the very back, the Wabbit could see what was required. "Projectionist, projectionist!" he cried, in as loud a voice as he could muster. He thought he could hear a faint squeak from the projection box so he carried on. "It’s a little out of focus, just a bit soft," he yelled. The picture became crisper. "And it’s fuzzy at the edges." The picture sharpened all round. "Slight tilt down at the right," he called. The picture moved into position. "Are you certain your projector is rock steady?" he demanded. "There’s a bit of jump and weave." The picture lost its slight shake and became steady. "Perfect," said the Wabbit and leaned forward to watch - until he became aware of a familiar voice that wasn’t part of the film soundtrack. The voice was coming from beside him and it was getting louder. "Wabbit? Hello! Are you there? Wabbit!" ... 

7. The Wabbit gets an Outcome

It happened with lighting speed. The 400 Rabbits charged in a wedge that suddenly split and they quickly surrounded the Romans whose formation was clumsily conceived. The 400 Rabbits packed in until the Romans were penned like sheep while a reserve battalion of rabbits streamed over the hill and down the slope to capture escapees. In what seemed like an instant it was all over and the Wabbit's lieutenants hopped forward to take the surrender. A groaning and a moaning rose from the Romans, who were not used to losing battles against rabbits, and a cheer rose from the 4oo. "Good tactics, Commander Wabbit," said Lapinette. "Did you learn that from Sun Tzu’s book of War?" "No," said the Wabbit and he wiggled his ears. "I adapted it from an old episode of Star Trek." "What shall we do with them now," asked Lapinette. "We can’t keep dumping enemies in the Sombrero Galaxy." The Wabbit turned to the 400. "What shall we do with them?" he yelled. There was silence. Then the 400 turned their paws down as one. The Wabbit smiled. "Well, what happened in Star Trek?" enquired Lapinette. "They let them go," said the Wabbit. “And overcome with shame they melted away to trouble no-one again." Lapinette looked sceptical. "I’m joking," said the Wabbit. "Take them away!" he yelled to the 400, "and put them in the Coliseum." Lapinette’s eyes shot in the air. "The tourists will take care of them," explained the Wabbit. "That’s harsh," said Lapinette. 

6. The Wabbit Reinforced

The Wabbit tried very hard not to look surprised. Stretching into the distance were the ranks of the Wabbit’s private guard, the 400 Rabbits. At the very front stood Lovely Lapinette and she held aloft a heavy snaser gun as if it was a child’s toy. The Wabbit was about to ask her what took her so long but decided to leave that for later in favour of oratory. He always pretended to dislike public speaking, but that never seemed to stop him when the opportunity presented. And so he looked at his army. "What is your name?" he yelled. "We are 400!" came the reply. "How many enemies do you see?" asked the Wabbit. "Not that many!" The roar was deafening. "What is the first position?" cried the Wabbit suddenly. "No effort!" roared the 400 Rabbits. "And what is the second?" shouted the Wabbit. "No error!" The sound of the 400 made a wind that bent the trees. The Wabbit raised a paw and turned to Lapinette. "You certainly took your time!" he hissed. "It made for a dramatic entrance," whispered Lapinette with a glint in her eyes. "The Wabbit knew that glint. "I like your new frock," he quipped. "You noticed!" sighed Lapinette. The Wabbit winked and turned back to the 400 Rabbits. He raised a paw and made a wavy sign and the 400 Rabbits rapidly assembled into a wedge. The Wabbit turned back to Lapinette and growled loudly. "On my Command!" There was a deathly hush in the ranks and everything was still. The Wabbit shrugged. "Unleash Hell!" he grinned.

5. The Wabbit at the Circus Maximus

The Wabbit continued to glance behind him until he reached the Circus Maximus, a location he knew like the back of his paw. The Wabbit always visited the old Roman racing stadium when he was in town and he would hop round the circuit pretending to be Ben Hur. But he was suddenly aware of a curious and terrifying sight. Roman soldiers filled the stadium as far as his eyes could see. The Wabbit’s fur stood on end and a chill ran all the way down his back and straight to the end of his tail. For a moment he didn’t know what to do. And when he didn’t know what to do, he started analysing things. "It’s too few for a legion, too many for a cohort," he thought. Several maniples perhaps," surmised the Wabbit. "And all infantry, no equestrians." But the Wabbit knew that for all his analysing, there was an awful lot of them and he was only one. A cry rose from the soldiers. It was soft at first, barely a murmur. Then it grew loud and threatening, "Mortem! Mortem! Mortem ad Cuniculum!" The cry became deafening as the voice of the Romans swelled to fill the vast space. "Mortem! Mortem! Mortem!" they shouted as one. "I don’t like the way is going," thought the Wabbit," who planned to carry on living. "Stultus Lepus! Stultus, stultus, stultus!" shouted a row of soldiers. "Oh that’s it," muttered the Wabbit. "I’ve had quite enough of this." He bared all of his 28 teeth and hunched head down. "Age quod agis" yelled the Wabbit as he hopped forward to meet the enemy. But above the roar of the Romans he heard strange sounds from behind him - and so he chanced a quick glance over his shoulder ... 

4. The Wabbit and the Emergency Call

The Wabbit loped through the city keeping one eye on the Roman soldiers whose numbers appeared to be increasing. The Wabbit knew the city well, but not as well as the Romans and he couldn’t shake them no matter how many twists and turns he took. So when he got to Largo Argentina, he delved deep in his fur for something he had almost forgotten he had with him. His walkie-talkie was directly connected with Wabbit Command and he had been expressly forbidden to take it on vacation far less use it. The Wabbit deemed this an emergency so he pressed a button and hissed "Wabbit Command, Wabbit Command. SOS." The radio crackled alarmingly. "Are you enjoying your holiday, Commander?" said a voice. "I’m being tailed, send help," whispered the Wabbit. "Yes. Yes Sir. We were warned to expect a call like this and you’re on holiday Sir," said the irritatingly soothing voice. "Look, this is not a joke, send assistance," hissed the Wabbit.  "What’s that Sir?" came a calm reply. "This is not, repeat not a joke," hissed the Wabbit. "It’s the Romans. Send reinforcements." "How much Sir?" asked the voice. "Aaaagh!" shouted the Wabbit. "Send reinforcements, they’re going to advance." "Got it Sir," the voice replied. "Send four euro, you’re going to a dance." "Grrr," growled the Wabbit. "Glad to hear you’re enjoying your vacation, Sir," said the voice and the radio went dead.

3. The Wabbit & the Roman Invasion

The Wabbit hopped leisurely through the portico of St Paul Outside-the-Walls and, as was his way, felt quite at ease in the imposing structure. But as he hopped he became aware of someone or something watching him. Now the Wabbit’s predisposition for paranoia was well known, but as time passed, he had developed a working relationship and was on rather good terms with the phenomenon. So at first he just twitched his ears and glanced up at the roof and looked around and about. He knew that mosaics could play tricks with the eyes, so he clutched his fur remedy firmly and took in the scene. The Wabbit liked to count the Basilica’s 150 columns as he hopped because he found it soothing  - and he was supposed to be on a relaxing holiday so he did exactly that. But suddenly his fur started to prickle. He had miscounted and that never ever happened. The Wabbit turned his head to see a flash of red and a figure vanishing behind a pillar. "Romans!" thought the Wabbit. The Wabbit was tolerant enough of Romans but this looked like trouble. Certainly he recalled their record with Paul was mixed to say the least. He also knew that Roman soldiers had weapons, which they called "throwables", and he had no intention of getting in their way. He grasped his box closer to his chest. "They’re not getting my fur lotion," thought the Wabbit.