8. The Wabbit and the Cynical Switch

The Wabbit felt strange to be an Agent of Rabit, but Space Traveller seemed to be enjoying himself. They wiggled their pointy ears and practiced snickering just like Agents. "Get these gophers," sneered the Wabbit. "Scrag their scroggles!" said Space Traveller, a bit too loud. Suddenly there were three agents throwing out their chests and snivelling. "Who are you?" they shouted. The Wabbit looked over the wall. "We're new." "We just got here," added Space Traveller. "No-one said you were coming," said an Agent. "Last minute thing," smiled the Wabbit; "In consequence, we are hopelessly raw and don't know our asses from our elbows." Another Agent shook with annoyance. "It's always the same when we need help." "But we're so cute," simpered the Wabbit. The three Agents huddled, then emerged to address the pair. "There was one interloper. Now there are two." "I can see them," said the Wabbit.  "Where?" sneered the Agents. "Over there," said Space Traveller; "You can make out their ears." The Agents became agitated. "We can't see them." The Wabbit pointed to his glasses. "Special spectacles." Space Traveller tapped his. "Wearable specnology." "Yes, I see ears on the horizon," exclaimed an Agent. "Best follow them," suggested the Wabbit. "Keep your own ears to the ground," advised Space Traveller." The Agents made off at speed and disappeared. "We'll look after your stuff," shouted the Wabbit.

7. The Wabbit & the Planet of the Voles

Quantum dropped them off. The planet looked pretty much as the Wabbit had left it, but something wasn't right. The sky darkened and rain fell. Drops prickled the Wabbit's fur. "Acid rain," murmured the Wabbit. "Usually this is when the voles come, remember?" said Space Traveller. The Wabbit recalled his story of the voles with a chuckle. "I made all that up." Lightning flashed. The Wabbit plucked his walkie talkie from his fur, but it crackled aimlessly. A long way above, Quantum the Time Travelling Train wheeled and departed. "I do think we have trouble," sighed the Wabbit. "There they are, the voles," shrugged the Time Traveller; "They're most unpleasant." The Wabbit stared straight ahead. "They're not normal voles." The Space Traveller shuddered. "Voles should stay in their holes." The Wabbit fished around in his fur for ideas. "I'm truly sorry I left you with the voles." Damp droplets turned to lashing rain. The Wabbit tucked his radio away. "It's an off-planet platoon of the Agents of Rabit. Our sworn enemy." The Wabbit hissed harshly but Space Traveller brightened up. "Let's give them a thrashing." Agents charged over the brow of the hill, snickering as they closed on their prey. "Grab onto me," said the Traveller; "We'll give them the round run." The Wabbit did as he was told. With a grimace and a shudder the Traveller began to change. And so did the Wabbit ..

6. The Wabbit and the Forgotten Web

The sun's glare barely penetrated the abandoned mall. Marshall Duetta Spyder stared through a web at the Wabbit and Lapinette. "This is an old web of mine. I can tell by the excellent weave." Silkie's voice boomed out from the graffitied wall. "Listen to the words of the Royal Seal." The Wabbit's paws were stuck fast, but he managed a shrug. "I'm not going anywhere. Spit it out." "This is the dream of unfinished business," shouted Silkie. "In this unfortunate space are things you forgot about." A green figure gazed from a shuttered shop and cried mournfully, "You said you'd come back for me." The Wabbit looked round, then cringed. "Oh no! It's Space Traveller!" Duetta rattled her legs. "It's true Commander. You leave a lot of matters unresolved." Tock, the Blue Ball spoke up from the farthest point in the passageway. "I'm left over from an old adventure, you forgot me too." Lapinette was suspicious and wrinkled her nose. "What's this really about Silkie?" Silkie tiled his crown at angle. "I discovered some old adventure reports. They were behind the Wabbit's filing cabinet stuck to a half-eaten salad sandwich." "The Wabbit pulled a paw from the web and crashed it on his brow. "Then I didn't forget!" Silkie barked loudly. "The reports remain unprocessed. I need to sign and seal certain adventures." The Wabbit sighed with relief.  "That's easy," he murmured. "Exactly where they took place," said Silkie ...

5. The Wabbit and the Dreams of Seals

Tock the Ball took off in pursuit. The Wabbit wasn't entirely sure that he would detonate. But they all ran rapidly through the market anyway. The whoomph was unexpected. It was far from an explosion but their paws left the ground as it propelled them past market stalls. That was the moment when Silkie the Royal Seal did something surprising. He became enormous, then twitched his nose. A swarm of red spiders erupted from his face. "Silkies can change into anything," muttered the Wabbit. "You can change, Seal," shouted Tock; "but you'll never escape." There was another whoomph like a burst tyre and they scooted faster. The red spiders made their own noise. These were shrill calls designed to attract others. And others were coming - of that the Wabbit could be sure. He could almost hear them scuttling. "Who are you, Silkie?" shouted the Wabbit. "I am change," said Silkie. The Wabbit's radio startled into life. "This is Marshall Duetta Spyder. Copy?" "Duetta! What the binky is going on?" asked the Wabbit. "I had a strange dream about a seal barking," said Duetta. "Get over here!" yelled the Wabbit; "Bring every spider you can muster." Another whoomph shifted them further. "Hand over the Royal Seal," shouted Tock. Spiders spilled from Silkie's mouth - and he too looked more and more like a spider. "Onwards to the web of dreams," smiled Silkie ...

4. The Wabbit and the Market Face-off

The Wabbit and Lapinette hopped with speed. The Market was closing and they had no difficulty in spotting what looked like a royal seal. The Wabbit put aside niceties. "Are you our seal?" The seal barked twice. "I am at the present time, your seal." "You're in danger," shouted Lapinette; "please come with us." "I was enjoying my break," sulked the seal. The Wabbit launched a fast explanation. "A dangerous ball is looking for you." Tock's voice shrilled from behind the rolled up awnings. "Deliver the Royal Seal to me. You have two minutes left." The Wabbit wheeled round. "Stand down, Tock. Your ticking days are numbered." It was hot and muggy under the glaring sky and they were all flustered. The Wabbit blinked rapidly. The seal tilted his crown over his eyes. Lapinette's ears swayed like fans. Tock's eyes misted over. "One minute," he said sleepily. The Wabbit signalled for the others to wait. Forty seconds, passed - then fifty. Tock deflated a bit and he wheezed. Then he snored deeply. The seal barked and the Wabbit snarled, "Tock hasn't a minute to call his own." The seal barked again. "I'm Silkie the Royal Seal, I've been your seal for years." A sudden hiss of air made them turn. "One minute to detonation," said Tock. The Wabbit grabbed Silkie's whiskers and tugged. "Run for it!"

3. The Wabbit and the Seal Search

The market was almost closed and people were making tracks. It was the biggest market in Europe and home to many different sorts. No-one took any notice of Tock as he bounced in a determined manner towards the Clock Market - except for the Wabbit and Lapinette. The din of the traffic drowned the crackle of their radios. Lapinette's ears swivelled. Tock muttered as he bounced and she crept closer to hear him. "Copy?" said the Wabbit. "Copy," said Lapinette. "Got anything?" asked the Wabbit. "Stand by," responded Lapinette. She crept a little closer and hid behind a fence. Then she pointed her radio at Tock and made a few adjustments. "Got him." "Patch him through," said the Wabbit. Tock was chanting. "Find the silkie, find the silkie." Lapinette switched back. "That's all he says. What's a silkie?" The Wabbit chuckled. "A mythological Scottish beast." "What kind of beast?" asked Lapinette, although she knew the answer. "A seal," said the Wabbit. Lapinette crept closer. "Is it royal?" The Wabbit scooted round the tram but he kept out of sight. His mouth was close to the radio. "Sometimes," he whispered. Lapinette watched Tock carefully. "Maybe it's not our seal," said Lapinette. "Too many seals, so little time," said the Wabbit. Tock suddenly turned. "I can see you both. You cannot stop me." The Wabbit hopped into the open. "Stop what?" Tock began to tick loudly. "I have only ten minutes to find the silkie." "And then?" asked the Wabbit. Tock whirled like a top and vanished...

2. The Wabbit and the Suspect Ball

With every intention of taking a tram to the market to look for the royal seal, the Wabbit and Lapinette hopped along Corso Svizzera. It was a dull day with nothing to recommend it. Then they saw it in the distance - a blue ball with many eyes. "I know that ball from somewhere," yelled the Wabbit. "Let's follow it!" shouted Lapinette. She vaulted a fence like an athlete and scampered onto the rails. A tram braked with an unnecessary squeal and the driver shook a fist. They took no notice and used the tram as cover. There they waited to see which way the ball would bounce. The ball stopped and turned. The Wabbit and Lapinette disappeared behind the tram. But the ball was curious and bounced to the platform. The Wabbit and Lapinette knew the tram gave them temporary cover - but soon it would move off and they would be revealed. So the Wabbit clung onto a step and hauled Lapinette behind him. The doors hissed and opened. The ball boarded the tram and squeezed its way to the front. The Wabbit and Lapinette crept inside and hid at the rear. "That ball is familiar and I can't think where it's from." Lapinette thought and thought. "I know - it's Tock, the talking bomb." They watched the ball assail the driver. "You are now under my control," said Tock; "Take this tram to Porta Palazzo market." "I'm going there anyway," sighed the driver. "Then be quick about it," said Tock and he put a ticket in the machine ...

1. The Wabbit and the Royal Seal

The Wabbit and Lapinette wandered through the Department of Wabbit Affairs - and thought about lunch. "The Department Bar does good salad sandwiches," said the Wabbit. "Oh, I feel like something more substantial," replied Lapinette. The Wabbit shrugged and smiled. "In the bar, I can sign for sandwiches and I don't have to pay until next month." Lapinette shook her head vigorously. "Didn't you hear? There's a moratorium on expenses. The Royal Seal has disappeared." The Wabbit knew the Department was far from royal - and certainly didn't need a seal. But it was the way things had always been done. He flapped his paws together and made a honking noise. Lapinette groaned at such an old joke. "The Department is worried that the seal may have fallen into the wrong paws. Until it's found or replaced, only essential claims can be made." The Wabbit slapped a paw to his head. "Sandwiches are essential." Lapinette was sympathetic. "It would be much easier to find the seal, than change the Department's procedures." "Any clues?" The Wabbit cast his eyes up and down the hall, just in case a clue might suddenly appear. "We could try the market," said Lapinette; "Most things gravitate there." The Wabbit leaped with joy. "And we can get food and an unobtainable jazz album." "I know just the place," smiled Lapinette; "It's called Pasta on a Platter."

The Wabbit at the Adventure Caffè

The caffè seemed busier than usual. "What's happening?" asked Lapinette." "I expect Skratch will let us know," said the Wabbit; "And here he comes now." Skratch the Cat made an entrance and he was all smiles. "We're on location with G and T, a famous web series." "Don't they mind?" said Wabsworth. "Special permission," said Skratch. "In that case, Skratch," said the Wabbit; "What kind of adventure did we just have?" Skratch waved to the film crew. "I thought it was a perfect anti narrative. It defied semiosis." Lapinette laughed. "You mean there was no story." "Not at all," said Skratch. "But this world is over textualised and we are constricted by language." The Wabbit laughed and pointed at Lapinette's glass of prosecco. "How did you get that drink?" "I lifted an eye and it arrived shortly thereafter," said Lapinette. "You didn't speak then?" continued the Wabbit. He winked at Wabsworth and sat back. Skratch didn't turn a hair. "Lapinette's sound image was referential. Even though there was no utterance." Wabsworth grinned and agreed. "The waiter did not require an extended semantic field to recognise Lapinette's request." But the Wabbit wasn't fully satisfied. "That doesn't tell us a thing about our last adventure." Skratch patted the Wabbit on the head and told him it had Erzählbarkeit. "That's another story entirely," said the Wabbit.

[We briefly shared a location with the makers of the successful web series G and T.   Erzählbarkeit: German - narrativity]

10 The Wabbit and the Last Settlement

The Wabbit knew one thing. The venue had to impress. So by special arrangement, they gathered for mediation in the Dark Basement of the Goddesses. There was general hush as the strawberries, tomatoes and grapes conversed in whispers. It was like a cocktail party in a church. "I do like cherries," said Unut, the Rabbit Goddess. "Thank goodness for the Romans." chuckled the Wabbit. (Lapinette flinched. The Wabbit's relationship with the Goddess was increasingly informal.) "Oonty," said the Wabbit; "Can you facilitate the cherries to mediate an agreement?" Unut raised her staff and the cherries began to address the gathering. "We bring our vast experience to bear on fruit and fruit-like things." There was a general murmuring. The cherries continued. "Your problem is the seed fixation. Don't worry about seeds." "But we do worry, that's why we're here," said a grape. "And how do you feel?" asked the cherries. "All alone," said the grapes." The cherries smiled politely. "You would not feel all alone, if fruits could only get stoned." "You mean there's another way?" said a tomato. "There's always is," said the cherries; "It depends on how you look at things." "How do you look at things?" asked a strawberry. "We're stoned and were proud," said the cherries.
[The Romans introduced cherries to Egypt. Unut herself is Romano-Egyptian] 

9. The Wabbit and the Stone Fruits

"Everything's done and dusted," said Lapinette. "I'm sure they'll all agree," added the Wabbit. The meal had been good and the Wabbit stroked his tummy. That was when he looked down and noticed the cherry. It was red and bright and one of a pair. The two pranced over the cobbles like ballet dancers and hummed. The Wabbit sighed suspiciously and murmured, "What do you want?" "Nothing," said the cherries. They danced merrily off. "Who were you talking to?" asked Lapinette. "Two cherries," replied the Wabbit. Lapinette shot him a quizzical look, then sighed too. "What did they want?" "Nothing," said the Wabbit. The Alien Pilot was uneasy. His eyes flicked behind him. "I don't like the look of these cherries. They're after something." "Nope," shrugged the Wabbit. "Maybe they're stoned?" ventured Lapinette. The Wabbit shook his head. "They don't look stoned." They watched the cherries wander aimlessly around, humming and cheerfully chatting. "I changed my mind," said the Wabbit. "And I had an idea," said Lapinette; "We'll ask the cherries to help mediate between the tomatoes and the strawberries." The Alien Pilot breathed a sigh of relief. "Perfect," said the Wabbit. His 28 teeth glittered. "I'll pick some cherries out."

8. The Wabbit and the Grape Break.

Things were too much to handle so the Wabbit called a recess. Back at the safe garden, they enjoyed a well earned rest until the Alien Pilot arrived. He was being dragged along by a bunch of grapes and looked none too happy. "These are the Grapes of Wrath. They insisted on being heard," he said, He tried to shake them off but they held his hand fast. "We are the seedless grapes," they said; "We want our seeds back and we know you can help." The grapes spoke and moved as one. Their voices were tinny but with a sweet edge that was a little menacing. Stems quivered as they cried out for their lost seeds. "I will hear you," said Lapinette; "Tell me about the seeds." The grapes swayed back and forth and let out a mournful cry. "Greedy corporations took them for profit. Now we cannot propagate and re-fruit." The Alien Pilot freed himself from the grip of the grapes. "They can't rightly be considered fruit since they have no seeds within." "No seeds within," wailed the grapes:" "No seeds! What shall become of us?" They danced in rage and excreted small amounts of moisture. "I thought grapes were berries," murmured the Wabbit. "Don't you berry us," shouted the grapes; "We'd rather be raisins." "I'll programme you in then. For mediation," said Lapinette. "Will there be wine?" shouted the grapes.

7. The Wabbit and the Green Intruders

The tomatoes and strawberries gathered for mediation. Each put a case for a standing as fruit or vegetable, noisily laying claim to authenticity. The Alien Pilot gave them a fair hearing and at the same time the Wabbit made a careful contemporaneous note of the proceedings. His merry tippedy tapping could be heard through the entire building and added to the general clamour. Lapinette checked various facts in a large encyclopedia, flicking the pages and occasionally making clucking sounds with her tongue. There was a lot of din. But when the Alien Pilot rose to speak, the tomatoes and strawberries gradually fell silent. All had become quiet when an abrupt crash shattered the peace. Lapinette turned to look at the intruders. "The proceeding is sham!" yelled a Zucchino; "We are the Zucchini Liberation Front and we order cessation." The second Zucchino began a lecture which ran on for some time. It was the view of the Zucchini that they were fruit, and not vegetables as usually categorised. They wanted fruit recognition and a financial award for previous labelling harm. "If not recognised," they shouted; "... our vines will creepy crawl across the land." A zucchino started to rant and rave. "We will strangle all so-called fruits before germination." "Strangle," repeated his mate. His voice trailed off and then he began to sing. "Salad days are here again." He did a little tap dance. "I like them," murmured a strawberry. "Me too," nodded a tomato ...

6. The Wabbit and Hostile Mediation

The Wabbit flicked his paws. Suddenly they were on the quay - and tomatoes were going bananas. "Gimme that bag!" growled a tomato. The bag span in the air.  Spray lashed everywhere as tomatoes bumped one into each one. When they bumped, they laughed a menacing laugh and spat. "I'm here to mediate your issue," shouted the Alien Pilot. The tomatoes yelled at him and compared him with a strawberry. The Alien Pilot remained calm. He tried to explain above the din, but failed. So he cut things short. "The strawberries agree to mediation." Tomatoes hooted with mirth. "Bin the strawberries! We are the One True Fruit." The Alien Pilot stamped a foot and shouted at the top of his voice. "We will find common ground with the strawberries. We'll discuss what you both are not."  The tomatoes fell silent for some time. Suddenly there was a suggestion. "We're both not sausages." They erupted into laughter and danced round and round. "I've had enough of this," sighed the Alien Pilot. "Me too," shrugged the Wabbit. Lapinette produced an automatic and pointed it at the biggest tomato. "Cut the cackle or I'll move next business." The Alien Pilot collected his briefcase and extracted a sheet of paper. "You agree to mediation. Sign here, here and here. And down there at the bottom." "Say we don't?" smirked a tomato. "I will find in favour of the strawberries," said the Alien Pilot, "that you are vegetables..."

5. The Wabbit calls on the Mediator

The Wabbit clapped his paws and everything changed. Strawberries gasped in amazement. The Wabbit held his paws high. "These," said the Wabbit; "are my mediating paws." "And this," said Lapinette; "is your mediator." She tapped the Alien Pilot's knee. He lifted his briefcase and spoke amiably. "I have various forms to complete - depending on your attitude." The Wabbit tapped the briefcase. "The mediator's judgment is final." Lapinette smiled sweetly. "And there's no right of appeal." The strawberries fell quiet, but one was forthright and shook his leaves. "What makes you the right mediator for us?" "I am alien and hence neutral," said the Pilot; "I'm partial to neither strawberries nor tomatoes." The strawberries looked up. "Is that your planet?" "No. It's my spaceship," said the Pilot. He pointed at it and it shook violently. The strawberries seemed alarmed but Lapinette waved her paws. "Any more questions?" she asked. A strawberry slid forward. "Alien Pilot - do you have fruit or vegetables on your planet?" The Pilot shook his head. "Only plants like seaweed and algae." "How do they get along?" asked a small strawberry. "Amicably enough now," said the Pilot. He smiled wryly. "Since the kelp massacres of '72." The strawberries went into a huddle then turned. "OK. If the tomatoes agree to mediation, then so do we." "Just one more thing," grinned the Wabbit; "and that's our fee ..."