It was chilly, but they chose to sit outside anyway. Lapinette scanned the list. "What's it to be?" asked the Wabbit. Lapinette wrinkled her nose. "It's all newfangled stuff." "I'll have a Prosecco Pouncer," said the Wabbit. Jenny leaned across the table and scowled. "Make mine a Rum Rockeroony." Wabsworth ran his cocktail sub routine. "Beer Runner," he announced. As Lapinette called the waiter, Skratch the Cat ambled around the corner yelling the usual question. "What would you call that for a sort of adventure?" Wabsworth smiled. "It was a form of mythological gesturing where everything indicated everything else." Skratch whisked a spare chair into position. "Like the X Files?" Lapinette raised a paw. "The inexplicable is explained through further inexplicabilities." "Nothing is knowable," laughed Skratch. There was a pause. "So how would we know that?" laughed Wabsworth. "Touché," meowed Skratch. They chortled, but Lapinette was anxious to ask a question about the adventure. "Tibbar said he was neither alive nor dead." Wabsworth leaned gently forward. "That suggests that he has the capacity to be alive or dead." The Wabbit had an idea. "Then maybe Tibbar is in a third state, in a liminality of perpetual waiting." "Where's our drinks?" sighed Lapinette.
[Wabsworth may be referring to Lucretius, Nothing Is Knowable, and More
(De Rerum Natura, 4.469-477)]
Monday, January 29, 2018
Friday, January 26, 2018
8. The Wabbit and the Lucky Charm
The Wabbit knew he couldn't detain a shape shifter. Besides, he didn't feel like it. He led Tibbar through the city and stopped near Porta Nuova Station. "You want me to take a train out of town?" asked Tibbar. The Wabbit shook his head. "Whatever you like Tibbar. Here's a gift for your travels." He delved into his fur and pulled out a band of pure carrot. It pulsed translucent orange and every few seconds it hummed pleasantly. "A tracking device?" smiled Tibbar, "It won't work on me." "It's a good luck charm," flounced the Wabbit. He plucked another object from his fur. It was an amulet comprising three double carrots, which together made up an orange star. It glinted in the streetlights. The Wabbit gently fastened the amulet to the band. "It won't work unless it's a gift." "Why?" asked Tibbar. "Because luck only happens to other rabbits," shrugged the Wabbit. "Where do the trains go?" asked Tibbar, after some thought. "Places that aren't even dreamed about," said the Wabbit with a nod. Tibbar returned the nod and set off along towards the station at a leisurely lope. Wabsworth and Lapinette hopped to catch up with the Wabbit but suddenly stopped. Traffic was in tilt. Screeching brakes and loud angry shouts rent the air. "Just a lucky charm?" said Wabsworth. "Much more than that," smiled the Wabbit.
Wednesday, January 24, 2018
7. Wabsworth and the Known Foe
[Tibbar's first appearance was in an adventure called Camera Converto. Tibbar ("rabbit" backwards) is here.]
Monday, January 22, 2018
6. The Wabbit in the Safe House
Friday, January 19, 2018
5. The Wabbit and the Fight Stuff
Wednesday, January 17, 2018
4. The Wabbit and the Sudden Snatch.
A series of abductions were reported just where the railway line disappeared under Corso Francia. They responded quickly and scouted all around. It was a lonely spot, frequented by riff-raff and ne'er do wells - so they were on their guard. "There's something on the rails," shouted Lapinette. She peered over the fence. "It looks like a question mark." "Let's go down and have a look," said the Wabbit, waving an automatic from left to right. His gun was far from new. The safety catch had broken off a long time since, and the trigger was shiny and worn. "Steady there, Commander, that gat needs a reset," said Wabsworth. Lapinette turned to shout. "Wabbit, I think it moved into the ..." Her voice cut off suddenly. The Wabbit's head swiveled to look, but no-one was there. Lapinette had gone. They rushed to the top of the steps - but of Lapinette, there was no trace whatsoever, except for her automatic. The Wabbit picked it up, wheeled and fired three times at the rail tracks. Wabsworth's ears swayed slightly. "Commander?" "She'll hear it," shrugged the Wabbit. He poked around and kicked grass-eaten asphalt. "I'm looking for her knife," he explained. They stiffened as a bloodcurdling cry echoed from the street, followed by three more. "She still has it," smiled the Wabbit.
[gat: slang for gun. Originally derived from Gatling Gun but eventually applied to hand guns.]
[gat: slang for gun. Originally derived from Gatling Gun but eventually applied to hand guns.]
Monday, January 15, 2018
3. The Wabbit and the Hanging Agent
Lapinette called urgently from the Department of Wabbit Affairs to summon the Wabbit to an incident. There, an Agent swung gently from a rope tied high on the roof, and he looked dead or close to it. "Better get him down," grimaced the Wabbit. He pulled mountaineering equipment from his fur and scaled the wall. Wabsworth took the service stairs and appeared from a skylight. "Easy now," shouted Lapinette, "All in one piece, please." The Wabbit took a good look. "He has a note." Wabsworth swung across and grabbed it. The body swayed once more and suddenly crashed to the ground. Lapinette hopped out of the way with an angry cry. "Is he dead?" called the Wabbit. "Well he is now," scowled Lapinette. "It was the note that did it!" yelled the Wabbit. Lapinette glared. "What does the note say?" Her nose wrinkled as she gazed at the crumpled corpse. Wabsworth squinted at the scrawled message. "It says you're next." "Who's next?" asked the Wabbit. "The note writer failed to elucidate," replied Wabsworth. "Look there's a question mark, painted in blood," pointed Lapinette, "It's on a picture." Wabsworth conducted a speedy analysis. "It's not blood, it's colouring," "That's a priceless work of art," yelled Lapinette. Wabsworth moistened a paw, dabbed the question mark, and tasted it. "Food dye," he murmured. "Too much dyeing round here," hissed the Wabbit.
Friday, January 12, 2018
2. The Wabbit and the Scene of Crime
The scene of crime was deserted except from some flimsy yellow tape, the shape of a body and dried blood. The Wabbit hopped under the tape. Wabsworth sliced it neatly and carefully initialled the cut edge. "They usually miss something," shrugged the Wabbit. He looked at the shape and whistled "I ain't got nobody," through his 28 teeth. Then he crouched to examine an ornate floor tile. "This is loose," he murmured. He levered it up. It groaned as he slid it to the side. "Oh, what is that? What is the question, Wabsworth?" "Who's been and gone and dunnit to who?" replied Wabsworth. "The perpetrator dunnit," said the Wabbit. "That's a tautology," answered Wabsworth. The Wabbit nodded his head twice - up and down and side to side. Then he spoke: "Someone drew a question mark with the blood of the victim." "A signature?" suggested Wabsworth. The Wabbit shrugged again. "We don't know if the perp drew it." Wabsworth smiled. "OK Sherlock, who then?" "The evidence currently points to me." smiled the Wabbit. "Well it doesn't look like your signature," scowled Wabsworth. The Wabbit grinned. "Then I'm off the hook." He slid the tile back in place. "I don't think it happened here," he said. "This is just the disposal site." Wabsworth's circuits whirred, then he said: "To both implicate you and leave an indelible stain on the Carrot Club's reputation." "What reputation?" asked the Wabbit.
Wednesday, January 10, 2018
1.The Wabbit: The Carrot Club Murder
The Wabbit met Wabsworth outside a budget hotel in downtown Turin on a matter of urgency. "It's about the Carrot Club," said Wabsworth. The Wabbit was puzzled because Carrot Club matters were seldom urgent. "There's been a murder," said Wabsworth. "Who's the victim?" asked the Wabbit. Wabsworth sighed. "It seems to be me." "But you're here," said the Wabbit. He poked him sharply in the ribs to make sure. "It looks like me," said Wabsworth, "but it's not me." The Wabbit shook his head from side to side. "We'd better get down there, pronto." Now Wabsworth shook his head. "It's crawling with forensic rabbits from the Bureau of Internal Mysteries." He fished in his fur and extracted a fearsome sharpened carrot. The Wabbit touched the end. "Yow," he shouted. He sucked his paw and gasped. "You took a murder weapon from a crime scene?" Wabsworth pointed. "It has your gnaw marks on it, Commander. Look just here. And here." The Wabbit grimaced. His gnaw marks were unmistakable. "I have to ask you, Wabbit. Where were you between the hours of dusk and dawn?" The Wabbit laughed. "I was with you of course." Wabsworth frowned and the Wabbit smiled. "OK, I owe you lunch. Tell me, is it messy?" Wabsworth tucked the weapon in his fur. "Who would have thought an android had so much blood..."
Monday, January 08, 2018
The Wabbit at the Adventure Caffè
They'd arranged to meet at the cinema caffè and then watch a movie. But the Wabbit and Lapinette wanted to surprise Wabsworth, so they lay in wait. "I think that must be him now," said Lapinette. "I can just see him crossing the road." "Leave it until he's right at the door," said the Wabbit. The cinema had many volunteers and it was Skratch's night to staff the ticket office. He was checking the till when he heard Wabsworth's voice. "What kind of Adventure did you have, while I was here holding the fort?" Skratch looked up in surprise. "How on earth did you get in?" he asked sharply "The cleaners let me in the back," said Wabsworth. He proffered a large note. "May I have four tickets please? I get the android's discount." Skratch agreed and turned to watch the Wabbit. Both Lapinette and the Wabbit were clearly oblivious to Wabsworth's arrival. He shrugged and uttered: "The adventure was as sprawling and chaotic as an adventure can be." Wabsworth took the tickets and pushed them into his coat. "Anti-narrativity is but an illusion," he said. "Textuality sutures the rift between anti-narrativity and reality." Skratch pondered this for while. "Where did you read that?" he purred. Wabsworth smiled. "I didn't read it. The cleaners told me."
[Wabsworth is possibly referring to a famous documentary, Night Cleaners made in 1975 (UK)]
[Wabsworth is possibly referring to a famous documentary, Night Cleaners made in 1975 (UK)]
Thursday, January 04, 2018
14. The Wabbit and the Wolf Storm
Tuesday, January 02, 2018
13. Terni the Dragon and the Big Wind
Terni tore through the night with a message. He'd been sent to scout around but was interrupted by the weather. It was no ordinary weather and he was no ordinary dragon. With some justification, Terni considered himself a cut above most of his cohorts. The Wabbit had helped him relocate and recruited him to his team. Now he was officially a superdragon and took his responsibilities seriously. The following wind tore at his cabbage wings and pushed him forward at an incredible speed. "I have to get ahead of this wind," thought Terni. "I have to warn the Wabbit." Terni thought of food and his tummy rumbled. The resulting flatulent blast gave him an advantage and he gained ground. He kept low and skimmed across asphalt that had the colour of camels. Terni knew better than to look back because the wind was more than a wind. it was a swirling, jagged typhoon with teeth like a dinosaur. It seemed to be looking for something and for now it couldn't be bothered to destroy much. But it shrieked like a thousand banshees and swept cars into neat piles of junk. Terni saw Incontinentia looming, He wondered if maybe he should do something less dangerous - like taking Tipsy for a spin. He chortled quietly to himself. Peppery fire erupted into the bleak night air and lit the road ahead. "Hit it!" breathed Terni.
Sunday, December 31, 2017
The Wabbit's Hogmanay Cease Fire
Skratch and Puma escorted the captured Agent to the specified location and then they laughed and laughed! There was food and drink. Agents danced and sang along to wild music. Jenny threw her pirate hat in the air and hooched like a Shetland fiddler. Bells rang out over the stricken city. The captured Agent threw his paws in the air and binkied. The Wabbit began to sing. "A guid New Year to ane and a' an' money may ye see." Lapinette joined in. "An' during a' the years tae come, O happy may ye be." Lapinette's personal guard were already the worse for wear and Tipsy called down. "For the shake of auld lang slime!" Dancing became wilder. "Do you think the truce will hold?" asked Lapinette. "Until the morrow's morn," said the Wabbit. "How can you be certain?" The Wabbit cried with glee. "They'll have bigger hangovers than they have in the Alps." "I'll pass out the aspirins," said Lapinette. "Have you got any now?" asked Jenny. Lapinette pulled a first aid kit from under her frock. The Wabbit passed Jenny a ham and cheese sandwich but not before taking a bite. "How did you find this place?" meaowed Skratch. "Twitter," replied the Wabbit. He executed a pas de basque and downed a malt whisky. "Preventative medicine?" asked Lapinette. "Hooch skirl," yelled the Wabbit.
[A Guid New Year. Sung at Hogmanay (trad Scotland)]
[A Guid New Year. Sung at Hogmanay (trad Scotland)]
Saturday, December 30, 2017
12. Skratch, Puma and the Inept Agent
A watery sun rose over the murky river. Reflections looked like second hand soapsuds as the river moved sluggishly through the City of Incontinentia. The Agent was on his own. He had a bit to go and he was late. A wind sprung up and his fur prickled. He leaned against the parapet, puffing and panting and listening to the water slap against the bridge. He thought about the money he would make. He knew if he found the Wabbit, he would be rich beyond belief. "Penny for your thoughts," growled a voice. The Agent started back, but a feline claw sank into his shoulder. "Going anywhere my fine friend?" Skratch purred menacingly and drew the Agent back over the parapet. The wind became stronger and the Agent grabbed at the wall. Puma growled then screeched. There was nowhere for the Agent to go. "Do you like dangling?" asked Skratch and he sunk his claws deeper. The Agent looked down at the water. The wind picked up speed and whipped the surface into a kind of mousse. He shook his head. "Do you believe in dragons?" said Puma. He looked up and so did the Agent. Terni's roar split the sky as he wheeled from behind a cloud. "I was only going to see a show," coughed the Agent in terror. "Is it a comedy?" purred Skratch. He increased his grip. "We like comedy," growled Puma. He pushed the Agent to the edge of the parapet. The Agent looked away from the swirling water below. Skratch laughed and stood on the Agent's paws. "Comedy's when you fall off the bridge."
Thursday, December 28, 2017
11. Jenny and the Lurking Agents
Jenny followed the Agents through the fog. All the way from the docks, they'd chirruped and chattered, so it wasn't so hard to keep pace. Their voices were muffled but Jenny kept close and she could hear everything and more. "We'll get the Wabbit, Skinny," said one. Jenny knew his name was Musty - at least that was what Skinny called him. "Then we'll sell him for gold," said Musty. "To the highest gold digger," giggled Skinny. "Or else we'll dig his grave," laughed Musty. The fog swirled with menace, Lights flickered. There were cries in the dark. "Who's that?" said Skinny suddenly. He glanced over his shoulder. Jenny shrank into the shadows. The slide of an automatic whispered through the fog and Jenny whispered with it. "I must have euro, you know why." "Why?" asked Skinny. "Why, to feed my heart of gold," breathed Jenny. Her sultry voice hung in the damp air. Skinny's eyes lit up with lust and he beat his chest. "Underneath our fur we got, euro and we got a lot!" Jenny stepped from the shadows. "Don't sell cheap, my mother said. Sell expensive, kill 'em dead." The Agents stared into the muzzle of a heavy automatic. "Have you any last requests?" said Jenny. Even though he was far, far away on the other side of the city, the Wabbit heard two shots. "Jenny," he murmured.
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