13. The Wabbit marshals the Troops

The Wabbit knew that Wabbit Con was out of control. Certainly the team could hear sporadic small arms fire in the distance as rival factions warred. "It's time," said the Wabbit, "to put a stop to this." With breathtaking speed, four hundred rabbits loped through the streets. At 150 hops per minute, the sound of the Wabbit's elite guard was deafening. Specialist units broke away and fire teams poured through side streets in pursuit of trouble. "I need intel," said Lapinette. The Wabbit had to shout. "The Murmurants are sponsored by rabbit pure-breed supremacists called BLU." "Never heard of them," shouted Lapinette. The Wabbit shook his head. "Suddenly they had resources. They came looking for us." Wabsworth yelled across. "BLU is using the Murmurants to discredit us. It calls us the Jambalaya." The Wabbit scowled. He slid a magazine into his automatic and yelled. "We need to take them in." Lapinette placed a paw on her favourite edged weapon. "Any ideas?" "Our agent, Major Spitlove, found their weakness," said the Wabbit. "They'll do anything for teabags," "Pyramid teabags," shouted Wabsworth. "They say they're the purest." The Wabbit checked his bandolier. "That's how they set the Comic Con bomb. They used a vast array of LED tea lights." Being a rabbit, Lapinette was unable to spit. But she made a valiant attempt and grimaced. "Ruffians!"

12. Tipsy and the Zui Quan Approach

Round the corner, Tipsy was waiting. When her radio made the faintest crackle, she took a sip from her glass and lurched. "Hello boys." She staggered to the right, then the left, then stood where she'd been before. Her eyes swirled as she swayed and for a moment she seemed to trip and fall - but she was still on her feet. Her paw clutched her glass tightly and she held it up. "There's a lovely little caffè across the street," she murmured. "Won't someone buy me an ickle dwink?" The Murmurants shifted uneasily. "Go round her," said one. Another tried to move past but she staggered in his path. Every time they made a move, Tipsy was there. A chorus of annoyance echoed round the concourse as the Murmurants shared a secret signal and started to draw on the colours and shapes of the scene. Yet the more they tried to alter themselves, the more Tipsy staggered. No matter what they did, they just couldn't get a fix on the drunken rabbit and the strain was showing. So they gathered together for strength and tried harder. It all happened as they were mid way into a solid transition. Tipsy's jump was sudden. A giant foot slammed forward and a neck cracked like rotten wood. Her leg swept round in a ragged arc. Heads bounced along the concourse and rolled to a stop. It was over so quickly that Tipsy shrugged and hopped forward across the street. "I'll buy my own drink," she grunted.

[Zui quan (Chinese: 醉拳) is Drunken Kung Fu. It's the general name for all styles of Chinese martial arts that imitate a drunkard.]

11. The Wabbit and the Special Ticket

The Wabbit had information from somewhere, so the team followed him to a small arena. It was full of what looked like Murmurants - although it was hard to be certain. They seemed to glimmer in the light and change costumes - then disappear and reappear. But they had a voice. "Impostors!" shouted the crowd. "And you're not the real Wabbit. Your ears aren't right." The Wabbit hopped forward. "I might be an impostor," he yelled. "But you might just be unlucky and I'm the real deal." The crowd murmured threateningly as the Wabbit held up a card. "This is printed with explosive ink and it could blow us all to Kingdom Come." A Murmurant dressed as Lapinette nudged another. "That's got to be him, so let's get out!" A trickle of Murmurants quietly left, followed by others. "So if you're feeling lucky," continued the Wabbit, "you could hang around and see what transpires." More Murmurants left. "On the other paw," continued the Wabbit, "this could be an ordinary ticket that admits the bearer to all exhibits, functions and hospitality." The Wabbit's bared his teeth. "... in which case I'm going to raffle it. Who'll be the first to test the ticket?" More Murmurants made their way to the exits until only one figure remained. "Perhaps you, Major Spitlove?" grinned the Wabbit. The Wabbit's double agent grinned back. "Was that a trick, Commander?" The Wabbit flicked a nail lightly across the card and dropped it. As it fell, it began to glow and they all started to run.

10. The Wabbit and the Worthless Idol

The team made its way out of the Giant Wabbit. But at every corner the Wabbit tucked something into niches, crevices, fissures and crannies. Wabsworth nudged Skratch the Cat. "When we hit the street, get ready to run!" "Run!" yelled the Wabbit. Wabsworth's foot ached due to his recently installed pain subroutine - but he scampered across the concourse with everyone else. Lapinette heard the tiniest of cracks. There was another crack. And another. Then very slowly from the bottom upwards, the Giant Wabbit disintegrated and gently collapsed into a pile of fragments. A mushroom cloud of fine dust cloaked the Giant Wabbit's ears. "Detestable, worthless idol," muttered the Wabbit. Lapinette was the first to stop and she slowly turned to gaze. "How did you do that?" The Wabbit was pleased Lapinette hadn't turned into a pillar of salt. "With Cracksmellite," he said, "totally safe for restrictive demolition." "Where did you find it?" asked Wabsworth. "Bengaluru," shrugged the Wabbit, "by mail." Wabsworth sighed. "Wabbit, is there anything you can't get?" Skratch looked at the heap of fragments and smiled for a long time. "What the Wabbit can't get, I will." The Wabbit's 28 teeth suddenly flashed. "So get me a packet of cinnamon Tic Tacs."

9. The Wabbit and Value of Vultures.

It was a surprise, but the team went into action. "I'm a fan and I have a vulture!" said the Wabbit. Lapinette thought fast and kicked Wabsworth in the foot. "I also have a vulture," he shouted. The creatures froze. Skratch looked at the Wabbit. "Where did you get your vulture?" The Wabbit smirked. "I mailed many tokens for it." Lapinette smiled sweetly. "I get entrance to the VIP tent and if I show my vulture, I can shake the paw of our hero, the Wabbit." "You can't come in here!" yelled a creature. The Wabbit stamped his foot. "My vulture says admit the bearer anywhere at any time." Despite the pain in his ankle, Wabsworth gasped in awe and he turned to stare at the creatures. "Show us your vultures!" "We are the Murmurants," said a creature, "and Murmurants have no vultures." "Then you shouldn't be here at all," said the Wabbit. Skratch spoke with an angry growl. "You don't look like fans, so leave fan business to us." The Murmurants set up a thoughtful murmuration that agreed with itself and said, "Maybe you have some spare vultures?" "I might," said the Wabbit. "But not here." Silence fell but the Wabbit broke it. "You can get them in the kiosk in Via Nizza." The Murmurants shuffled out but as they moved down the stairway, they inexplicably vanished against the brickwork. "That was too easy," said the Wabbit, "they bought the whole thing." Wabsworth shook his head. "No they didn't." ...

8. The Wabbit hears himself Speak

With the Agents of FAN gone, the team hacked their way into the Giant Wabbit. There was only one way to go. Ignoring the elevator at the insistence of Wabsworth, they climbed the curious stairs. The Wabbit sniffed an exotic smell. "This isn't brick is it?" "It feels like Aerogel," said Wabsworth. "Liquid smoke!" said Lapinette. "I feel something else," said the Wabbit. "Like someone was staring into my back." The loudspeaker on the wall barked with the Wabbit's own voice. "What am I bringing for luck?" it crackled. They had only taken a few hops more when the speaker barked and again the Wabbit's voice sang out. "No amount of careful planning can beat good luck." This was beginning to creep the Wabbit out. His head throbbed, his bones ached and his fur itched but there was no respite. "Luck," said his voice, "is when preparation meets opportunity." "Oh, kill it!" snapped the Wabbit. There were deafening blasts and ricochets as Lapinette's automatic spat several times. Now the Wabbit's loudspeaker voice was as slow as pond water - and each word seemed to be an effort. "That was cha cha chance. Do you have any luck luck luck left over?" The loudspeaker clattered into shards and silence replaced the ricochets. Low, ominous sounds swirled around the stairway walls. "Are these whispers?" asked Lapinette. "No," said the Wabbit. "That was a murmuration ..."

7. The Wabbit and the Agents of FAN

The Wabbit escaped from hospital with stolen medication and bandages. The knock on his head left with him some kind of sixth sense, so it wasn't hard to find the team. But the team had already spotted unusual goings-on. A giant Wabbit towered above the buildings, surrounded by chanting fans who seemed familiar, but weren't what they seemed. "I am the authentic Wabbit and no other Wabbit precedes me," boomed the giant Wabbit. The fans were delirious. "Blessed be the Wabbit! Blessed be!" The giant Wabbit lifted a paw. "I am the Wabbit of the past, the future and a bit later on." Lapinette dug Skratch gently in the ribs and whispered. "That thing does sound like the Wabbit." "He put on weight," quipped Skratch, "it's the hospital food." Lapinette sniffed and in her mind she could see her Wabbit. "You're supposed to be resting," she thought. The Wabbit heard it. "I was bored," he murmured. "That's no excuse," thought Lapinette. The Wabbit tried to control his enhanced power and projected it at the giant Wabbit. Its paw flailed wildly and a booming staccato echoed from the walls. "Wab wab wab wabbit." "Wab wab wab wabbit," yelled the fans. "Bitty bit bit bit bitwab," slurred the giant Wabbit. "Bitwab"" roared the throng. "Now seek out sustaining sustenance," boomed the giant Wabbit, "but keep one tenth for The Wabbit." As the fans departed, Skratch looked bemused. "He's very fair for a giant."

6. The Search for the Perpetrator

There was no shortage of volunteers to look for the culprit and Lapinette balanced on Susan's wing as she sped to Lingotto. "How's the Wabbit?" asked Skratch the Cat. "Complaining," shouted Lapinette. Wabsworth grimaced. "When I get the perpetrator, I'll rip his stem from his stern." "We haven't got one yet," yelled Lapinette. "I want ideas!" Susan's engine whined, chugged and rattled as she raced close above the tracks. Skratch gripped the fuselage and looked for clues. "What about enemies?" Wabsworth shook his head. "The city is full of Wabbit fans dressed as enemies." Lapinette shouted through the wind. "What about the Fanbots?" "They're citizens," shrugged Wabsworth. "I'm guessing a malignant voyeur." The wind tore at Skratch's fur and he screamed to make himself heard. "Anyone missing? Someone we've forgotten." A train shrieked past. The noise was unbearable but Skratch's eyes were keen and he jerked round. "I think I saw something." Lapinette grabbed a strut and turned. "What kind of something?" Skratch hissed and arched his back like a wildcat. "Something isn't right. Wabsworth. Can you land Susan here?" "I can very well land myself," snorted Susan and she flew vertically upwards, twisted in the air and dived. Everyone except Wabsworth gasped in the g-forces. "Bank angle, bank angle," shouted Susan, "stall, stall, stall!" "Is she always like this?" gulped Skratch. "Invariably," sighed Wabsworth.

5. Touch and Go for the Wabbit

The Wabbit stared down. He could see his body in the wreckage and he could hear voices. "Clear!" The Wabbit wasn't feeling clear at all. The voices were shouting. "What's your name?" Suddenly the Wabbit saw himself signing autographs at Wabbit-Con. But the more he signed his name, the less he could remember it. "Clear!" There it was again. The Wabbit watched as he signed Clear on a programme. "We're losing him. Again!" The Wabbit felt a shudder and the voices got louder. "Do you know where you are?" The Wabbit saw his younger self hopping along a stony beach. "Loch Lomond," he murmured. He heard a flat electronic whine that just wouldn't stop. "He's gone," said a voice. The Wabbit watched himself hop into the loch. "Epinephrine. Stat!" The Wabbit sank beneath the water. The loch felt cold and tangles of weed stretched out to grasp his paws. "Again. Clear!" The Wabbit looked up through water that shimmered with a clear green light. Now he made out a quiet voice. "It's over." "No," said another. Something whacked his body with the force of a water cannon and he reached for the surface and kicked. The Wabbit gasped and spluttered as faces swam between him and the light. "Welcome back, Commander." The Wabbit blinked. Everyone was looking down at him. "What's up?" said the Wabbit. "Is it my turn to buy drinks?"

4. The Wabbit and a Touch of Menace

Inside the Main Hall, special guests gathered for the preview of Wabbit Con. "Ah Wabsworth," said the Wabbit, I hope I'm on that list." Wabsworth waved his clipboard. "My list is blank. I'll write you in and you can be first." The Wabbit smiled and viewed the hall. "I must say the Department has done well." Lapinette agreed but did not say she had routed cash from the Wabbit's Dinosaur Fund to pay for refreshments. The Wabbit relaxed and watched adventure stills on the big screen. But through light jazz playing from the sound system, drifted a conversation between two fans dressed as Lapinette. "Where are you from, darling?" "Los Angeles, honey." "How fabulous. I'm from London." "I love London. Say, can you hear a ticking?" "No, it must be part of the music." "Well it's going right through my head." The Wabbit swung and tuned his ears to fans dressed as Ice Mice. "I do like jazz," said one, "but the percussion isn't right." "Do you mean that ticking?" "Yes, I can't get rid of it. It's all I can hear." The Wabbit turned to Lapinette. "Have you got a ticking noise?" Lapinette frowned and listened hard. "It sounds like an oven timer." The Wabbit sprung in the air and yelled at the top of his voice. "Free aperitivi in the basement!" In the stampede that followed, he pushed Lapinette under the jeep. The Wabbit heard the roar and saw the flash before everything went black ...

3. The Wabbit and Wabbit-Con

Lapinette had dragged the Wabbit for a hop to the Medieval Castle, but it was more crowded than usual. "Passes please!" said a familiar voice. "What in the Binky for?" growled the Wabbit. "You have to have a pass," said Skratch the Cat, "or you can't come in." Lapinette grinned maliciously. "It's for Wabbit-Con. Your fans are arriving from all over." The Wabbit looked all around. "No-one tells me a thing." "It's a Department PR initiative," said Lapinette. "Then I don't need a pass," said the Wabbit, "because I'm the Wabbit." Skratch scrutinised the Wabbit from ears to toe. "How do I know you're the real Wabbit? You might be a fan." "Then how do I know you're the real Skratch?" frowned the Wabbit. "Because today I'm the Cat's Pyjamas," said Skratch. The Wabbit spoke loudly. "I order you to let me in." "No pass, no admission," said Skratch, as he casually nodded a Wabbit fan through. The Wabbit hopped in fury and yelled, "I can prove I'm the Wabbit!" "OK," said Skratch, "let's have it." The Wabbit thought. "I'm the one that sent you to film classes." Skratch smiled an annoying smile. "Everyone knows that - and it's in the journalist press pack." "Oh all right," sighed the Wabbit, "I'll buy a pass." "Pre-orders only," said Skratch, "available from the Pet Shop in Corso Svizzera." The Wabbit scowled, jumped and shrugged at exactly the same time. Skratch glanced at Lapinette. "He just might be the Wabbit." Lapinette pulled an extra pass from her fur. "I'll make sure he behaves." "If you can do that," laughed Skratch. "he's not the Wabbit."

2. The Wabbit & the Pure Hop FanBots

The Wabbit and Wabsworth headed for the tram, but when it came to a halt, green FanBots flooded out. The Wabbit sighed. "You know everything about this, Wabsworth, don't you?" "I'm an android with a mammoth memory," said Wabsworth. "Then who?" asked the Wabbit tersely. Wabsworth paused and a smile flickered across his face. "These are Pure Hop FanBots." The Wabbit shook his head and murmured, "Why?" Wabsworth kept an eye on the FanBots' approach and elaborated. "The FanBots of the Pure Hop Tendency do not approve of the status quo." "Well, Qui, Quo, Qua," flounced the Wabbit. Wabsworth paid no attention and continued. "The Pure Hoppers are coming to WabbitCon to protest." The Wabbit's eyes rose so high they reached his ears. "They do not consider you a personality, Commander," said Wabsworth. "You are the Liberator who will lead them to the Promised Hay." "I will not," moaned the Wabbit, "I'm busy." "Excuse me," said a Pure Hopper, "that is a good costume and you wear it well." The Wabbit clenched his paws and tried very hard to be civil. "Thank you," he nodded. The FanBot looked up. "But the lettering isn't quite right." Wabsworth detected the start of a low growl, so he interrupted. "It's nearly Ferragosto Holiday and all the costumiers are on vacation." The FanBot whirred his fan. "Where can we find the Great Leader?" "He took a small vacation," snapped the Wabbit.
[In Italy, Qui, Quo and Qua are Donald Duck's nephews, Huey, Dewey and Louie.]

1. The Wabbit and the FanBots

"There they are now," said Wabsworth. "Don't turn round, they'll spot us." The Wabbit tried not to look. "Who did you say they were?" "They're FanBots." said Wabsworth. The Wabbit looked quizzical. "What kind of FanBots?" Wabsworth sighed a deep sigh. "They're your FanBots actually. And so they're mine too - by default." The Wabbit squeezed his eyes to slits and turned slightly. "What the Binky are they doing?" Wabsworth had been quick to investigate. "They're coming to Wabbit-Con and they're desperate to even glimpse you." The Wabbit shuddered but Wabsworth continued. "They worship the very ground you hop on." "Tell me it isn't true," groaned the Wabbit. But Wabsworth was the Wabbit's android double and he was keen on the truth. "They know everything about you. Everything." At that moment a FanBot called out. "Hello fellow fans! Can you tell us where the Wabbit eats?" The Wabbit adopted a funny voice and, without hesitation, named an establishment he hated. "The Wabbit eats at a sausage restaurant in Mirafiore." A FanBot came close and his voice shook. "You ... look so much like the Wabbit." "We're big fans," shrugged the Wabbit. "Perhaps His Wabbitness is nearby!" shouted a FanBot and they scurried around, looking. Wabsworth intervened. "You will never find the Wabbit." The FanBots looked distraught and moaned gently. Wabsworth gestured to thin air. "The Wabbit will find you."

The Wabbit, Lapinette and Old Times

The Wabbit's paw snuck into Lapinette's and she smiled. "Looks like we're hopping down the very same street." "On the sunny side," laughed the Wabbit. "I prefer my streets sunny side up," said Lapinette. "As do I," nodded the Wabbit. Lapinette hopped with delight. "Do you remember when we first met?" The Wabbit was tentative. "I do," he said, "but it was dark." "That," said Lapinette, "was because you were locked in a luggage locker at the rail terminal." The Wabbit smirked slightly. "I was protecting stolen goods as valuable evidence." Lapinette hopped, skipped and giggled. "You locked yourself in and you'd still be there if it wasn't for my swift intervention." The Wabbit caught a mental glimpse of his skeletal remains. "It was all under control." Lapinette fluttered her eyes. "Your radio had no batteries and there was a railway strike." "Mmm," murmured the Wabbit. "Then it was just as well you had a fur dresser's appointment there." Lapinette thought for a second. "I've still got the scissors I borrowed to lever the hinges." "Are they the ones with the red handles?" asked the Wabbit. "Puce," replied Lapinette. The Wabbit looked relieved because he regularly used bent scissors to prise open containers. "Anyway, what did we get up to after that?" "We had adventures," shrugged Lapinette. "How many, would you say?" queried the Wabbit. Lapinette was emphatic. "A thousand."

The Wabbit's Adventure Caffè

The team gathered and waited for Skratch the Cat. Eventually he hove into sight with a giant wave and a shout. "Now what was that for a rip roaring adventure?" "It was detectively woofy," said Arson Fire, the Greyhound. Lapinette giggled and looked at the Wabbit. "You think you're Sam Spade?" The Wabbit effected a drawl. "I kept putting two and two together but there were so many twos I stopped counting." Skratch meaowed pleasantly. "It wasn't about the money and it wasn't about the gold." Wabsworth looked across at the Wabbit. "So what was it about?" "It was about the journey," said the Wabbit. Wabsworth looked disappointed. "So the Dinosaur Fund made nothing?" The Wabbit smirked. He drew a shiny object from his fur and set it on the table. "I wouldn't say that exactly." Now Skratch pounced. "I knew it. You kept the Bratwurst Bullion!" The Wabbit shook his head. "It got stuck in my fur." "I'll take charge of it," said Wabsworth reaching for the Gold Bullion Hot Dog. Lapinette made a mental note. "That's Good Delivery Bullion, even with unorthodox packaging." "Not to mention cooking," barked Arson Fire. "Well, it's all the money I have at the minute," said the Wabbit, and I'm thirsty." Skratch put his paw in his fur and rummaged. "Maybe I can spare five euro for a fellow traveller." The Wabbit's 28 teeth flashed in the sun. "I'll have a carrot aperitivo with sparkling gold flakes please." "So will I," said Lapinette. "And me," said Arson Fire. Wabsworth pulled out a requisition book. "Does that aperitivo have a name?" "Macwabbit's Gold," meaowed Skratch.