7. The Wabbit and the Reverse Recyclers

Having evaded the Roman Dumpsters, the team made their way to a caffè. But there were more Dumpsters - they seemed to be on every corner. "Any ideas, Wabsworth?" asked the Wabbit. Wabsworth scowled. "They don't seem very interested in us. They just dump trash." The Wabbit glanced around and studied them. "They're full of unsorted garbage." Lapinette thought long and hard and her eyes looked puzzled. The Wabbit squinted and Lapinette sighed. "Rome is strict about recycling. You can get a fine." "A fine for not recycling?" asked the Wabbit. Lapinette shook her head. "For putting the wrong trash in the wrong bin." "Then let's hop on over and fine the Dumpsters," laughed the Wabbit. Wabsworth looked offended by the whole thing. "I think €100 is an appropriate sum for each item." For a moment the Wabbit saw his Museum of Enemies budget take a boost. "Two hundred is better." As the Wabbit scrutinised the Dumpsters, one of them appeared to look over so he chanced calling out. "Fined a total of €800!" Suddenly there was ghastly noise, a deafening combination of grinding and chattering. Small chunks of garbage flew around and landed on the sidewalk. "Who are you?" cried the largest Dumpster. "I'm the Wabbit," said the Wabbit. The Dumpster sneered. "Give us your rubbish!" "I haven't got any," shrugged the Wabbit. A howl of delight rose from the Dumpsters. "Then we'll take you instead ..."

6.The Wabbit and the Dumpster Drama

The Wabbit and Lapinette headed away from the rail yard, but there on the crossing was Wabsworth. He looked somewhat sombre so the Wabbit hailed him cheerily. "Hello Wabsworth, did you spot any Dumpster Devils with teeth?" Wabsworth stared unflinchingly at the Wabbit and nowhere else. "Yes," he said. The Wabbit waited. One of Wabsworth eyes moved imperceptibly - somewhere between a blink and a wink. "Please do exactly as I say, Commander." "Is this a game, Wabsworth?" said the Wabbit. Wabsworth nodded slightly. "I am going to hop back to the sidewalk. Follow me in a nonchalant fashion." The Wabbit looked confused. "Then what?" "We will hop round the corner at reasonable speed." "What speed exactly?" said the Wabbit. Wabsworth's eyes flickered towards Lapinette. "As if we all have somewhere definite to go." "Like as if we were going for aperitivi?" suggested Lapinette. "Exactly," murmured Wabsworth. Lapinette stood gently on one of the Wabbit's feet but the Wabbit still looked confused. "So are we going for aperitivi or not?" he smiled. "Just round the corner," smiled Wabsworth urgently, "But we must make haste." "Is the caffè going to close?" asked the Wabbit. Lapinette gazed into Wabsworth's glasses and suddenly saw a reflection of the scene behind her. She dug the Wabbit in the ribs and dragged him forcibly and under protest by the fur. "Aperitivi this minute, that's an order!"

5. The Wabbit and a Talkative Dumpster

The Wabbit met with with Lapinette and together they went to the rail station to supervise materials for the Museum of Enemies. On the way, the Wabbit apprised Lapinette on developments. It was rather hot and as trucks passed in and out, they both drank several cans of Wabbit Cola. Lapinette looked at one of the many dumpsters. "They don't look dangerous." The Wabbit's 28 teeth chattered. "Marshall Duetta was adamant that dumpsters with teeth were all over the city." Lapinette shook her ears, steadied herself and threw her Cola can at the opening. Her aim was straight and the can disappeared. There was a clang and a gulp and something that sounded like a cough. "Correct aperture," said the Dumpster. "Your recycling efforts contribute to the safety of the planet. I can therefore wish you a nice day." Lapinette turned and glared at the Wabbit. "Is this something to do with your experiments?" "Nope," said the Wabbit. "I discontinued development of my automatic recyling can." From deep inside the dumpster, the hollow voice spoke. "Have you got any more?" Lapinette leaned forward and spoke into the container. "I'm afraid that's the last." "Oh," said the Dumpster, "they were nice. Do pass this way again." Lapinette looked at the Wabbit and he shrugged. So she turned back. "Maybe you can help us. We're looking for rogue dumpsters with teeth." "Devils!" cried the Dumpster. "Devils from out of town." "From where?" asked the Wabbit. "Roman dumpsters," said the Dumpster. "Treasure and trash," scowled the Wabbit.

4. The Wabbit and Secret Intelligence

Leaving the castle behind, Wabsworth and the Wabbit hopped quickly for a tram - where they found not one but two surprises. Number Nine Tram was no ordinary tram and Marshall Duetta Spyder no customary spider. "Commander, I must speak with you." Duetta Spyder made a squiggly sign with one leg. "I wasn't expecting you and your android friend," said Nine the Tram, "do you need to visit the Late Tunnel, Wabbit?" The Wabbit grinned. "Maybe a little later, Nine." Duetta's silky voice cut sharply in. "This is most urgent, Commander." The Wabbit waved a squiggly wave with one paw. "Go ahead, Duetta." Duetta's legs rustled. "It's about enemies." Now it was Wabsworth's turn to make a squiggly wave. "The Wabbit's Museum of Enemies isn't open yet." "What museum?" asked Duetta. The Wabbit was beginning to regret his funding application. "A Museum of all my old enemies has been given the go-ahead." "I'm sorry to disappoint you, Commander," said Duetta. "But this is a completely new and original enemy." "I've no room," said the Wabbit. "They won't wait," replied Duetta. Wabsworth shrugged like the Wabbit. "OK, what are they like?" "It's hard to tell," said Duetta, "but they're dressed as trash dumpsters." "I've seen them," said Nine. "One disrupted my points on Corsa Svizzera. We were stuck for hours." "They're all over the city!" scowled Duetta. The Wabbit puzzled for a bit. "How do we recognise them from ordinary dumpsters?" "They have teeth," said Duetta.

3. The Wabbit scouts Locations

The Wabbit couldn't decide on suitable locations for his Museum of Enemies. "Old or new or both," he mused. He was wandering through the medieval castle when he felt a light tap on his shoulder. "Oh hello Wabsworth," he said, "you can help me out." Wabsworth was the Wabbit's android double and an exact copy. But beyond the point when he was made, he had his own experiences. That made for enjoyable confusion - so the Wabbit was pleased to see him. "What's new?" asked Wabsworth. The Wabbit smiled broadly. "Funds for my Museum of Enemies are available." "Excellent," said Wabsworth. "Your success is guaranteed." The Wabbit shook his head sadly. "Maybe. But I just don't know where to start." "I thought you already had," said Wabsworth. The Wabbit looked quizzical and Wabsworth glanced around. "I could swear I saw some enemies about - is it an installation?" "I don't like installations," said the Wabbit. "I was thinking of working models." Now it was Wabsworth's turn to look quizzical. "Where are all your enemies anyway?" "Banished mostly," sighed the Wabbit, "except for the MacDrabs. I blew them up." "Well, that looks like one over there," said Wabsworth, pointing to a shop. "I thought that was a Highland Outfitters," said the Wabbit. "They didn't have Highland Wear in Medieval Turin," replied Wabsworth. "OK," hissed the Wabbit, "pay no attention, look forward and just keep hopping." So they hopped and hopped, getting steadily quicker until the castle was far behind ...

2.The Wabbit and the Enemies Museum

The Wabbit had a downtime arrangement with a sleazy viewing theatre in Via Nizza, and there he met Lapinette to review his Museum of Enemies project. The Wabbit scratched his head. "I invited Renzo Piano along." "When's he coming?" said Lapinette. "He has to play another gig," chuckled the Wabbit, "but he gave me some advice."  Lapinette's voice was resigned. "He doesn't know your enemies like I do." She waved a paw at the ancient projectionist and the screen lit up. "Here are some old enemies," she said. "They'll help you decide what you want." The Wabbit narrowed his eyes until they were slits. "It could be a long corridor with enemies leering from either side." "A museum has to be a responsive space," sighed Lapinette. The Wabbit nodded. "I thought rods could come out and give electric shocks." Lapinette was horrified. "You haven't thought this out." She pondered for a while. "Does it have to be a building?" The Wabbit grinned. "No, it could be all over the place." Lapinette was on the edge of a wry comment, but nodded and waved her pointer. "Our enemies are everywhere, so why don't we put them everywhere?" "All over the city," said the Wabbit. "Working models?" suggested Lapinette. The Wabbit smiled maliciously. "With special effects." "How's the budget?" asked Lapinette. "Huge," said the Wabbit. Lapinette looked quizzical. "I thought you didn't like installations?" "I call it true life sculpture," smiled the Wabbit.  "Why have a got a bad feeling about this?" said Lapinette.

1. The Wabbit and the Forgotten Funds

The Wabbit was hanging around. He was between adventures and was moaning quietly to himself when Lapinette sprang from round a corner. "You startled me," said the Wabbit. Lapinette knew the Wabbit didn't startle easily but she smiled a cheery smile. "What about the next adventure?" The Wabbit cheered. "Did you hear anything?" "Nope," said Lapinette, "so you can relax." That was the last thing the Wabbit wanted and he made a face. "Nothing threatening the universe?" "Zilch," said Lapinette. The Wabbit tried hard not to scowl and failed. "Maybe an attack on Turin?" he said with desperation. "All quiet," said Lapinette. "Personal threats perhaps," murmured the Wabbit hopefully. "Not a sausage," said Lapinette. The Wabbit hunched miserably and Lapinette took pity. "Well ..." The Wabbit brightened. "There's news about your project." Lapinette could hear the Wabbit's brain creaking, so she continued. "The funds for your Museum have arrived." The Wabbit froze then tried to think. "The Museum of ... " Lapinette laughed. "The Museum of Enemies!" The Wabbit had quite forgotten the complex series of funding manoevres he had set in motion - primarily due to boredom. "Funds from where?" he muttered. "The Carrot Club match-funded your Dinosaur Fund," said Lapinette. Now the Wabbit was grinning and Lapinette just couldn't help asking. "Wabbit, why do you want a Museum of Enemies?" "Because they'd hate it!" laughed the Wabbit. Lapinette wore an impish grin. "Maybe they'd like it." "Even better!" yelled the Wabbit.

The Wabbit and the Devil Red Caffè

Jenny had picked the Caffè, so she arrived fashionably late - as did Skratch the Cat from the other direction. Lapinette pointed at the hat. "Why does the hat have its own seat?" "No time, here comes Skratch," hissed Lapin who was strategically positioned at the rear. Jenny laughed and sat down beside him. "Skratch! What kind of adventure did we just have?" Skratch fairly bounced. "It was a splendid reflection on the antinomies of good and evil." "Agreed" smiled Lapin. But Skratch hadn't finished. "It refused admirably to locate horror within its diegetic referents." Wabsworth shook his head and sighed. "What about the hat?" The Wabbit smirked and said nothing. "And what did you do with the secret album inside the hat?" asked Lapin. The Wabbit wore a smug look. "I removed it and hid it." "Anywhere special?" asked Jenny. "In my fur," said the Wabbit. "No-one will ever find it there." Lapinette smiled sweetly because she had already found it - and indeed played it and stealthily replaced it. "It's a good album." "How do you know?" said the Wabbit sharply. Lapinette faltered. "Oh you know - that sort of jazz thing must be nice." Skratch rescued Lapinette. "Our adventure successfully avoided becoming a musical," he stated solemnly. Lapinette thought deeply. "Maybe there's something that's opposite to music?" "That's the chord I sang in the portico," said the Wabbit. "That's why I won." "But you can't kill the devil," said Lapin, "and he has the best tunes." "That's used to be the case," said the Wabbit with triumph. "But now he's tone deaf."

The Wabbit and the Hasty Hallowe'en

The team gathered at the rear of the old abandoned hospital for the hastily arranged Halloween party. They lit the remnants of their old fire and soon it was a hearty blaze. Shadows flickered spookily on the roof as the Wabbit turned to face an imaginary audience. He threw his arms wide like a bat and his voice bounced around the buildings. "Did you ever hear ... ?" asked the Wabbit. His audience drew a breath. The Wabbit started again. "Did you ever hear about the giant two-headed rabbit that wandered the Rannoch Moor crying for its lost soul?" They all shook their heads. "Neither did I," smiled the Wabbit. A loud groan creaked around the room beams. "It was just a joke," complained the Wabbit. "That wasn't us," said Lapinette. "Not guilty," said Skratch. "I distinctly heard a groan," said the Wabbit. "I thought it was more of a moan," said Wabsworth. "The same kind of moan the Bunnyman made?" said Skratch. "Oh, he only comes at midnight," said Lapin. "With his bloody axe," said Jenny. The Wabbit thought for a minute. "What time is it?" "It's just past twelve," said Lapinette. The Wabbit sighed with relief. "Well he won't be coming now." Just at that moment they heard a dreadful clattering of teeth and a voice moaned. "So late. Oh so late." "Late for what?" asked the Wabbit. "Late for the party," moaned the voice of the Bunnyman. The Wabbit turned to his audience, plucked a hidden speaker from his fur and grinned. "That Bunnyman is axing for trouble."

14 The Wabbit and the Devil's Surprise

The Wabbit and Wabsworth made their way home, but there was something altogether spooky about Vinzaglio Metro. "I guess its nearly Hallowe'en," said Wabsworth, "shall we have a party?" The Wabbit grinned and tipped his hat back. "Why not!" "You can come as a cowboy," suggested Wabsworth. "Ghost Rider from the Sky," laughed the Wabbit. They chuckled for a while. "Did you hear a moaning?" asked the Wabbit. "Must be the escalator," shrugged Wabsworth. The Wabbit shook his head. "There it is again, listen." They stopped and waited. "I heard groooooh-grooooh to you," said Wabsworth. The Wabbit's fur tingled and his voice trembled. " He's back!" Wabsworth scrunchled against the wall as the hatless head of the Devil floated just above the escalator steps. It made grinding sounds that echoed from the Metro walls and it whispered threats of all that was Hell. The Wabbit stood his ground and snarled through his 28 teeth. "Egonebay oulfay iendfay!" The head turned very slowly and met his eyes. "I will cut off your head and put it on backwards." "On me or you?" asked the Wabbit. The Devil's angry retort was like the creak of a rusty tap. "I will put you upside down in a hole and set your paws on fire." "What about the snakes?" asked the Wabbit. "Any snakes in the hole?" Now the Devil's voice was like a saw. "Enough snakes to shake a stick at. Then I'll poke you with that stick." The Wabbit winked at Wabsworth and spoke to the Devil. "Are you coming to our Hallowe'en Party?"
[Egonebay oulfay iendfay: Pig Latin - Begone foul fiend]

13. The Wabbit's Date with the Devil

The Wabbit tipped the brim of the hat and it touched his glasses. Everything became hyper clear. The Devil was there of course, but the Wabbit ignored him and looked past to see Parakalo the Dove winging swiftly away. There was Wabsworth, his android double. He raised a paw and Wabsworth gestured back. "You were supposed to come alone," sneered the Devil. "We did come alone." The Devil heard the Wabbit and Wabsworth speak precisely as one and his voice weakened. "Give me my hat." The Wabbit was icy calm. Jazz played inside the hat and he listened carefully. He could hear spaces so he filled them with his own notes and tapped out rhythms with a paw. Wabsworth improvised. Bojangle sounds filled the portico and every tap drove the Devil lower. "I want what's mine," he gasped. The Wabbit gazed implacably as the Devil pleaded. "Give me my space. Give me the chord." The Wabbit looked down. "Want to hear it?" The Devil felt something he had never known. Fear chilled his every fibre. The Wabbit made a spooky sound that whined into existence like an overheating dynamo. Unable to muster strength, the Devil crumpled and grew infinitesimally small. The last thing he saw was a giant paw as it scuffed his remains on the sidewalk. Wabsworth hopped over to embrace the Wabbit and they danced to the last strains of music. "Devil got my sole!" sang the Wabbit.

12. The Wabbit and the Devil's Exit

The Wabbit and his team rushed through an atmosphere with a strange colour and an even stranger smell. It was a smell that had long deserted Porta Susa Station - and it tasted of steam locomotives and fire and sparks and hot oil. Summoned by Lapinette's amulet, Parakalo the Dove swooped through the dim light towards Jenny and ex-Cardinal Lapin. With one eye on the Wabbit and the other on the station's exits, he took charge of communications and the roof was alive with coos and clucks. "Where's the Devil now?" sighed Lapin. Jenny sniffed. "He's there - down in the metro still." Parakalo navigated the walkways and stairs like an eagle and peered in every corner. "He's trying to find his way out." he cooed. "The Wabbit bought some time," said Jenny, "but he has to fight this one on his own." Lapin stroked his Cardinal's robe and muttered a prayer. "Exorcizámos te, ómnis immúnde spíritus, ómnis satánic potéstas." For a moment something cleared around the Wabbit and he turned to speak with Lapinette and Skratch. "This is far enough for you both. I'll take it from here." They both looked crestfallen and hugged the Wabbit. In the midst of the embrace, the Wabbit shrugged with difficulty. "It's just me and the Devil and this Hat," he grinned, "what can possibly go wrong?" Lapinette let go of the Wabbit and with a delicate touch of her paw, she pressed her secret amulet. Up in the station roof, Parakalo gave a faint coo then suddenly wheeled and soared off at speed ...

11. The Wabbit & the Devil in the Way

Skratch and the Wabbit found their exit blocked. With a screechy wail the escalator moved towards them bringing the Devil with Lapinette in his grasp. He pointed and his finger shook with fury. "Give me my hat and I'll let her go." The Wabbit couldn't give him the hat even if he wanted to. "You lie!" scoffed Skratch. "It's my job," said the Devil. "Then no hat," shrugged Skratch. "Anyway, it suits the Wabbit better than you." The Wabbit looked past Lapinette and scowled straight at the Devil. "You can take a rabbit from a hat, but you can't take the hat from the rabbit!" The Devil shook Lapinette fiercely again and again. Then he shook her some more. Her legs flailed and her teeth chattered but the Wabbit noticed her clutching something - an amulet that started to glow. At that instant, something happened to the album inside his hat. It span and as it picked up speed, an enchanted tune whipped up like an old phonograph. "Play it, Wabbit," murmured Skratch, "Play it like it's yours." The Wabbit concentrated. His eyes narrowed and music whispered from the station loudspeakers. The Devil looked up and his grip on Lapinette slackened. Her amulet glowed fiercely and just as she chafed at the bonds that tied her paws, the Wabbit willed the music to boom through the station. With a grinding crash, the escalator stopped dead and the Devil dropped, clasping his ears in pain. Lapinette twisted free and rolled towards the Wabbit. As the Devil writhed in agony, Skratch and the Wabbit pulled Lapinette away. "How do you like your elevator music?" asked Skratch. "Holy minimalism!" yelled Lapinette.

10. The Wabbit & the Sound of the Hat

The Wabbit had the Devil's hat but as he hopped outside, he realised he was somewhere completely different. He was not outside by a long chalk. He plodded forward anyway because he was in the metro. He even knew roughly where he was - but of why he was there, he knew nothing. The hat gripped his head and made a soft noise so the Wabbit grasped it by the brim and straightened it. Now it seemed to play a tune, but it was off key. Sometimes it was flat and sometimes it was sharp. He managed to make out a rhythm, but it was a rhythm of suffering that chilled his blood. He heard lyrics but the words were out of sync and the Wabbit could hardly distinguish them from each other. So he tried to repeat the words. "The sign, the chord, the groove, the album." His words popped, clicked and crackled and sibilants hissed along the tracks like railgrinders. Then another sound seemed to call his name. "Waaaaabit!" The Wabbit kept his nerve. "By the prickling of my ears," he murmured, "something wicked this way steers." That phrase didn't sound right to the Wabbit and he was about to revise it when he heard the call again. "Wabbit! Wait!" The Wabbit put his head down and ploughed forward. But the voice called again. "What's this for a diabolical adventure?" The Wabbit relaxed and turned. In the distance, he saw Skratch scrambling along the rails and he had never been so pleased to see him. "You scared the Hell out of me!" he grinned.

9. The Wabbit & the Devil's Own Error

The Wabbit and Lapinette sauntered into the record store alone. What they had to do was audacious - and everything had to be perfect. The Devil stood by the jukebox and he was sarcastic. "It's my small furry friends," he sneered. "Have you found my album and my sign?" "We can't agree on the sign," said the Wabbit," so it doesn't really matter." "You dare meddle with me!" screamed the Devil. The Wabbit stuck out his tongue and wiggled his ears. The Devil roared with fury but in his distraction he failed to notice Lapinette climb on a chair. The Wabbit knew Lapinette was very, very good at one particular thing that always made him smile. So he waited for it all to happen and addressed the Devil directly. "How's your singing voice, Devil? Missing a little verve?" The Devil's head turned and it was all Lapinette needed. With a flick of both paws, she tipped the Devil's hat and it span like a frisbee. "Aaaaagh!" shouted the Devil. "Give me back my hat!" But the hat spiralled across the record store. Now the Wabbit could see inside and he knew he was right. He adjusted his head, made his ears into spikes and with a deft movement that would have astonished a soccer forward, he caught the hat on his head and loped from the store. The Devil was seized by rage. He too had glimpsed inside his hat and he felt like a fool. Lapinette carefully backed away but she couldn't resist triumph. "Devil," she said softly, "don't you want to get ahead?" The Devil looked up mournfully. "Better get a hat," sang Lapinette.