3. The Wabbit and the Sea Phantoms

All the streetlights failed at the same time. What little light there was came from nearby shops and they were going out too. The Wabbit and Lapinette looked with horror as three spectres cut a dark passage along the street. Each time they passed a shop, lights dimmed and failed entirely. The Wabbit put an arm in front of Lapinette. "Don't go near them." Lapinette sniffed. "Yuk. They smell of bad sea." The Wabbit grimaced at the odour of seaweed and long dead things from the bottom of the ocean. "They're sea phantoms, I've met them before." Lapinette turned. "With Jenny. You told me." The Wabbit sniffed. "They're probably the things we have to beware of." He didn't like his sentence construction. Lapinette smiled and corrected him. "Of which we have to beware." The Wabbit let it go. "At the minute it's three ghouls to two." He chortled at his bad joke. "Well maybe we can even it up," said Lapinette, "What did you do the last time?" "Sulphur soap and a bell," said the Wabbit. "Sounds like Jenny," replied Lapinette, "Old school." The Wabbit twitched an ear. "What does new school say?" Lapinette spoke calmly. "Derrida says they are daemons from our own past." The Wabbit wasn't impressed. "Well. They are." Lapinette crept after the phantoms. "We won't fool them twice with the same trick." The phantoms wheeled and made their way onto Via Gregorio VII. Lapinette was still talking. "We have to figure what overall structure they're part of." The Wabbit struck. "Of which structure they're part?" Lapinette stood on the Wabbit's foot and he couldn't help giving a yelp before they ducked out of sight. A phantom turned and looked around. He shouted with a voice from the very bottom of the ocean. "Who goes there?" "Mice?" whispered the Wabbit.

2. The Wabbit and the Ides of March

 

Far from Torino, the Wabbit and Lapinette were enjoying a break. Round the corner from Largo di Torre Argentina they hopped along happily, when a voice spoke to them. Lapinette turned. "It must have been that nice old gentleman selling books." They stopped, but the man didn't look up. "Beware, small kinigl." The man seemed kind enough to give them a warning, but he also seemed busy with his museum. "What do we have to beware of?" asked Lapinette. "The Ides of March of course," replied the man. "That's today," observed the Wabbit. "It's Julius Caesar," said Lapinette. "What's that got to do with us?" said the Wabbit, who was puzzled. He knew Julius Caesar was stabbed not a hundred meters from where they stood - but that was some time ago. "It's Greek to me, but if I were you and I was a rabbit, I'd certainly beware." The man spoke while continuing to look at his phone. "Thanks very much, we're obliged to you," said Lapinette. She dragged the Wabbit onwards. "I'm always bewaring," said the Wabbit. "It seemed like a legitimate warning to me," insisted Lapinette, "It was nice of him to beware us." Lapinette was always polite and the Wabbit knew better than to be anything else. "I'm not expecting anything," he said. The Wabbit could be annoying and this was one of these times. Lapinette turned and addressed him forcibly. "We must look out. because the Ides of March are come." The Wabbit flounced in a Shakespearian manner and waved his paws. "But not gone!" Lapinette turned and walked on, shouting over her shoulder. "You'll be sorry!" That was when the street lights extinguished - and all became dark...

1. The Wabbit and the City of Torino

Here I am up on Monte dei Cappuccini. It's named for the order of monks, although I've never seen a monk up here, hooded or not. I just keep missing them. That's where the name comes from by the way - the hood is a cappuccio and gave its name to many things including the coffee. I'm between Adventures and I come up here for a bit of relaxation. It will almost certainly get interrupted because I expect a call any time from the Department of Wabbit Affairs. In the meantime I'm going to admire the view and tell you a bit about the place. Turin - or Torino - is a city of around 900,000 people and that's where I have my adventures. There's always plenty to do, believe me. Behind me is the Mole Antonelliana, which is the symbol of the city. Intended as a Jewish Temple, it's now a film museum. Many of my Adventures are set in and around it. That's where we met Moloch, who gave up his bad ways and became a member of our team. He's a key part of the plot of Cabiria, a silent movie made in 1914. It was made in Turin by the way and although the studios are long gone, we like to pay homage to that movie tradition. Oh, wait there's the radio crackling. It's probably another Adventure and so I must be on my way. Join me next week for another exciting story with Lovely Lapinette, Skratch, Wabsworth - and all the gang! Be seeing you then.

The Wabbit's Adventure Caffè

The Wabbit proposed a quite different venue and the team agreed. With any luck someone would bring coffee. Skratch loped down the stairs with a suspicious expression. "What's going on Wabbit? We never meet here." The Wabbit called this the Blue Sky Caffè because he need to do some blue sky thinking. That's what he told Skratch. Skratch wasn't impressed. "Didn't we use to call that Brain Storming?" Lapinette was appalled. "Think of the Brain Storm Caffè. What would it be like?" Wabsworth nodded his head. "That expression changed because it reflected badly on epileptic people." Skratch shrugged. "It never ever crossed my mind." He turned to the Wabbit. "What do you want to blue sky?" The Wabbit drew himself up and spat the problem out. "We need an entirely new publication strategy." Skratch wrinkled his nose. "We discussed that back in 2011." Wabsworth hadn't contributed so he rapped the table. "I for one wasn't part of that." Lapinette laughed. "You hadn't been constructed then." The Wabbit spread his paws wide. "There you are. We need to get everyone on board and read from the same page." Lapinette hooted with laughter. "Black words on white paper?" At this point Skratch decided to play along with the Wabbit. "Our brand is our sign," he purred, "and we have to communicate via codes, myths and archetypes." "That's the spirit Skratch," said the Wabbit. "So what should our publication convey?" asked Wabsworth. "Authenticity," said the Wabbit. Skratch drew his claws along the table and the noise made everyone cover their ears. "Like the last story?" he laughed. "Authentic lies!" smiled the Wabbit.

7. The Wabbit and the Friends of Turin

The Wabbit did his best with the venue. It was only partially in the open air, but it was spacious and accommodated the Phrenology head. The wooden bird had room to swoop and the two Garibaldini had a fence to lean on. There, they happily exchanged stories and guffawed. Everything was going to plan. Lapinette arrived. "Everyone's got something to drink but me." The Wabbit handed her a glass of Prosecco. "What's this do called?" she asked. The Wabbit laughed. "Nominally, it's the Revolutionary Friends of Torino." Lapinette pirouetted. "Introduce to me to your new pals." The Wabbit waved a paw. "These are the two Garibaldini, over there is Mr Phrenology Head and beside you, tucking into 3-in-One, is Ornithopter." Lapinette nodded politely. Everyone nodded back. The Wabbit felt obliged to explain how they arrived. "It's all the fault of the interior designers. They were planned for my Risorgimento-themed office but were overlooked in the back of the furniture truck." Lapinette made a clicking sound with her teeth. "Now you're obliged to look after them." The Phrenology head called across to Lapinette. "May I read your bumps, your ladyship." Lapinette wore a sickly expression. "My bumps are already in good order," she said. The Garibaldini were suitably deferential and bowed from the waist. "A toast to your loveliness!" The Ornithopter finished slurping 3-in-One oil. "Perhaps I could interest you in a ride?" "Later," nodded Lapinette. She sipped her Prosecco and looked daggers at the Wabbit, who ventured, "Not very sensible?" Lapinette put her paws on her hips. "I predict a riot."

6. The Wabbit and the Phrenology Head

The Wabbit made his way out of the archives department of the Risorgimento Museum where he'd being carrying out research before his reception. But he'd got no further than the courtyard when a shadow fell across his path and a voice spoke to him. "May I attend your reception, Wabbit?" The Wabbit was getting used to this. "You nearly knocked me over, Mr Head." The head swayed slightly. I'm deeply sorry to startle you, Wabbit." The Wabbit didn't startle easily but he let that one go. He took a good look at the head and recognised it from the same time period as the Risorgimento. So he immediately thought of the accursed interior designers. "Did you by any chance come in a van with design people?" The head stabilised. "I found them poor company," he complained. The Wabbit sighed. "Everyone does." The head was dismayed. "I find people in this time rather shallow." "You're not alone," shrugged the Wabbit, "but how did you find out about my reception?" The head shook back and forth as if in mirth. "I was in the same van as a wooden mechanical bird, whom I did find engaging." The Wabbit gave his reception some thought. "I'm not sure I have space to get you in. Perhaps I'll hold it in the open air." The head considered it. "That would be nice. As a phrenologist, I will observe and know everyone - and their superior functions." The Wabbit smiled. "Maybe eventually." The head actually laughed. "I will add bumps to their heads." Now the Wabbit doubled up with mirth. "Can I do it?"

5. The Wabbit and the Ornithopter

Leaving the Garibaldini to freshen up, the Wabbit walked across the Ponte Vittorio Emanuele bridge. It wasn't unusual to see birds of prey swooping in the currents. So he paid no particular attention when he saw some kind of creature coming his way. But as it came closer he could see it resembled a golden eagle. Closer and closer it came, until the Wabbit could make out its mechanical structure. His smile turned to a frown. "It's an ornithopter!" thought the Wabbit. The mechanical bird flapped its wings a little. It flew up in the air and turned around and came back until its beak was nearly level with the Wabbit. "Hello!" it squawked. Its orange beak quivered with delight. "Pleased to meet you!" The Wabbit was getting the hang of this. "Hello," he said, "Did you come with the interior designers?" The bird flew up and down along the river, then returned. "I can't find them," it said. "I was in a van and they opened the door and I flew out. Then I lost them." The Wabbit grinned. "I hardly think that matters. They seem to have lost the run of things themselves." The bird hovered. "I like this river." "Been far?" asked the Wabbit. "I went as far as a water-bound city and back," replied the bird." The Wabbit was astonished. "Venice. That far?" The bird took off at speed and returned just as quickly. "It's not that far," said the bird. "I saw lots of strange things." The Wabbit thought for a minute. "Perhaps you'd like to come to our reception?" The bird considered. He moved his head and it creaked slightly. "Any 3-in-One oil?" "All you can drink," said the Wabbit. "Original?" said the bird. The Wabbit laughed. "Totally the right stuff."

4. The Wabbit and the New Garibaldini

The Wabbit lost sight of the old soldiers for a while but he caught up with them on a metro platform. They were patrolling up and down with all the officiousness they could muster. The Wabbit noticed something. He knew they were supposed to be Garibaldini, but everything was wrong. Their jackets were way too flowery and their hats were not quite right. It was when he saw the rifles, he knew something was badly amiss. They were his own special issue Snazer guns and they were strictly restricted. He tapped a soldier on the back. "Who goes there?" enquired the soldier. "Commander Wabbit," replied the Wabbit. They snapped to attention and saluted. "I fear there's been an error," said the Wabbit, "Garibaldi is long victorious." "Good news," said one soldier. "Hurrah," said the other. "We have assumed this detail," said the first soldier. "We are patrolling the great iron railroad. Are you with Cavour?" The Wabbit shook his head, but he'd had an idea. "Did you perhaps come with the interior designers?" "We came in a van," said the soldier, "with a lot of strange stuff. Then we were left alone in an unfamiliar building." The Wabbit realised the Risorgimento remodelling of his offices had resulted in unintended consequences. "I'm having a little reception for the Revolutionary Friends of Torino," said the Wabbit, "so perhaps you'll join us for refreshments." "Will there be bagna càuda?" asked a soldier. "With cardooms?" said the other. The Wabbit was delighted. "Your authenticity is showing," he said.

[Bagna càuda is a hot dish from Piedmont]

3. The Wabbit and the Rattle of Gunfire.

The Wabbit tried to forget about his new office and sauntered down the porticos thinking of other things.  He looked at a nearby eating establishment and wrinkled his nose. If it described itself as a restaurant it had no business selling pizzas. That was his view and he was going to stick to it.  He was so busy thinking that he didn't take any notice of the first crack. He thought it was a car backfiring. When the second came he also paid scant attention. Then when it became a rattle accompanied by flying plaster he ducked down and took evasive action. Down on the ground, he tried to see where it came from. There was another crackle. It looked like it came from the other side of the street. A barrel poked out from a window and occassionally issued flame. The Wabbit bolted for the other side but the bullets followed him. They were a very heavy guage and smacked into buses, trams and cars. Traffic came to a standstill. The Wabbit rolled under a bus shelter. He was on the same side of the road as the weapon now, and he'd narrowed the angle. It gave him time to think. Who could this interloper be? Maybe there was more than one. He saw two figures dart out from a building carrying a massive weapon. But the weapon was old. Very old. And so were the figures. "Why me?" thought the Wabbit, "why does it always fall to me to deal with bizarre actions?" The Wabbit got to his feet and dusted himself down. Bits of plaster flicked everywhere. He watched the two figures disappear into the metro. "Going to catch a train are you?" mused the Wabbit. He flicked a last piece of plaster from his fur. "I'll catch up with you! And you're getting the dry cleaning bills."

2. The Wabbit and the Design Invasion

 

The Wabbit searched for his old desk in vain. But it had been replaced. Everything was furnished in a retro style from the time of the Risorgimento. All his disparate bundles of papers had gone. Old invoices waiting for payment had disappeared. In their place, an old revolver and a book about the life and times of Garibaldi lay on a clean desk. The Wabbit sat down and gazed in amazement. He looked at Lapinette. "What the Binky is going on?" Lapinette grinned. "The Department brought interior designers in. Everyone needs a clean start. That's what they said." The Wabbit lifted the revolver and sniffed it. "This is ancient," he said. Lapinette sprang in the air then pirouetted around. "You're not supposed to use it, Wabbit. It's supposed to give you ideas." The Wabbit flourished the gun and thought merciless thoughts about interior designers. "It's given me ideas all right." He put the gun down and leafed through the book. "Inspirational," he grinned, "I could always hit somebody with it." Lapinette continued to dance around. "I think it's a great idea." The Wabbit toyed with the pistol and spoke with great enthusiasm. "First we'll get Garibaldi out of prison." Lapinette laughed. "He was released in 1831."  The Wabbit laughed too. "Better late than never." Lapinette was still for just an instant. She placed her paws on her hips. "Now pay attention, Wabbit. This is supposed to give you ideas for combating the wicked Agents of Rabit." The Wabbit stood up waving the old revolver. "Send out the 400 rabbits. Arrest the usual suspects!" Lapinette sighed. "Will you be serious for just a minute?" The Wabbit frowned. "I was being serious."

1. The Wabbit and a Difficult Admittance

The Wabbit stomped up the stairs of the Department of Wabbit Affairs. He was in a bad mood for several reasons. He'd been called in for new orders just when he was taking a well-earned break. But when he'd turned up, he found that new security protocols had been put in place. The doorman had asked him for his pass. The Wabbit never carried it. He'd known the doorman for more than ten years and pointed this out to the doorman. But the doorman insisted it was more than his job was worth to let him in. The Wabbit had to return to the house and go through drawer after drawer. Finally he'd found it but the doorman pointed out that it was out of date. In order to get it re-validated he had to enter the building but the doorman continued to refuse him admittance. Finally, he'd bribed the doorman to look the other way. This cost him a dinner for two at Piano 35, the slickest restaurant in town. So he growled on his way and made a detour to the credentials department, where a very large rabbit put him through an interrogation the like of which he'd never endured. "This better be an exciting mission," he said to himself. He thrust his new pass deep into his fur and scowled. "The Ministry for Revenge will hear of this." His blood boiled. But then he heard the voice of Lovely Lapinette calling after him. He looked back as she shouted, "I've got your new pass, it came in the post." The Wabbit now had two new passes, but said nothing. He slid the duplicate further into his fur and smiled. "Thank you so much, Lapinette." Lapinette looked at him. "How did you get in?" "Charm," said the Wabbit.  

The Wabbit at the Adventure Caffè

Skratch the Cat was late as usual but not by much. Lapinette was late too. The Wabbit and Wabsworth were engrossed in conversation and were merrily rapping paws on the table. "Hello Skratch," said Lapinette, "We're just in time to tell everyone what an exciting adventure the Wabbit and I just had." Wabsworth was already in full flow. "I've been hearing all about it." Skratch leaned over the table. "I thought it disappeared, like all sci-fi, into the accretion of postmodern theoretical debris." The Wabbit laughed. "I don't know how you can justify that one, Skratch." I can't," meaowed Skratch, "but I rather like saying it." Wabsworth coughed. "Let's lay bare the cultural instrumentalities at work." Lapinette groaned. "But that fails to adequately deal with generic issues." The Wabbit wanted to have his say. "The best we could do was to introduce a rogue truck as the monster. This struck at the heart of generic convention." Lapinette wasn't impressed. "Where does that stand in the paradoxical circle of cause and effect?" Skratch was amused. "Where is the truck anyway?" "Round in the corner in the underground car park," said Lapinette. "That's a postmodern aesthetic dilemma in itself," replied the Wabbit, "It calls into question the existing patterns of consumption and usage." Lapinette allowed a small guffaw. "That's what the truck said anyway." Skratch was getting thirsty. "What about or own patterns of usage and consumption?" The Wabbit raised himself up and shouted to the bar. "Four proseccos please!" "And a packet of peanuts!" added Lapinette.
 

7. The Wabbit and the Extra Vehicle

Thinking better of buying the van, the Wabbit and Lapinette made their way back to join Quantum the Time Travelling Train. But the van followed them. Through the auction room and up the rickety-rackety stairs, it followed relentlessly. The Spieler stood in their way but the van just ran him over. They could hear the crunching of his bones. The Wabbit shrugged and ran on. Finally they arrived at the space tether and Quantum guided them in. Then they looked back. The truck had followed out into space. The Wabbit offered up his paws. "I put the money back, I swear I didn't buy him." Lapinette continued to insist it was his fault, but there was nothing the Wabbit or anyone could do. He couldn't hear its engine but he spotted exhaust fumes. "We'll have that Greta Thunberg on our backs for this." Lapinette said something that the Wabbit couldn't quite hear, but he knew it was very rude indeed. The Wabbit yelled to Quantum and crashed into lattice drive. There was an explosion and they left at speed. But the truck was still there. Quantum spoke to the Wabbit over the intercom. "I'm getting a communication from the blessed truck you brought with you." He sighed deeply and asked what it was. "He wants to know how he gets into second gear," said Quantum. The Wabbit gritted all of his 28 teeth. "Tell him to select reverse and go home." There was a pause. "He says it's broken." The Wabbit let fly with several expletives and ended with: "We don't have parking space." They heard a babble of signals, then Quantum spoke. "He says we're in space now and there's plenty of space."

6. The Wabbit and the Shabby Market

The scene gave way to a very shabby market indeed. Lapinette paused to scrabble but the Wabbit strode forward with purposeful expression. "Serviceable van here," he said, "it's small but properly marked." Lapinette looked round. "It's probably for moving things around, Wabbit." The Wabbit was skeptical. "On an asteroid?" The Wabbit looked around the rest of the market. "A load of old tat," he said. Lapinette laughed. "I thought you liked that." The Wabbit shook his head. "To a limit," He wasn't so happy, but he searched and searched anyway, coming up with next to nothing. "Seems to still be Christmas here," he said. "They might have wanted to liven it up," replied Lapinette. "It needs it," scoffed the Wabbit. He looked at the van again. "How much do you think they want for it?" Lapinette was looking at an old chair. "About a fiver," she said. The Wabbit nodded. He took five QUID out of his fur and laid it on a nearby shelf. Then he jumped inside the van. "The keys are still in it." He started the van and everything shook. Lapinette waved the fumes aside. "You can't take the van," she said. "Why not?" said the Wabbit. He put his foot on the throttle and it started to move. "I forbid you to take the van," said Lapinette. The Wabbit gave up and jumped out. But the van didn't stop. It rolled past Lapinette and out of the doors, into space. "I told you," said Lapinette. The Wabbit watched it go. "It's going about its appointed rounds," he observed, "Maybe it's 2020 GT." "QG," said Lapinette.

[ "A car-size asteroid flew within 1,830 miles of Earth over the weekend, the closest pass ever. We didn't see it coming."]

5. The Wabbit and the Bony Auctioneer

The Wabbit and Lapinette found themselves in an auction room with windows looking out into space. At the front was a skeleton. The Wabbit knew him. His name was Spieler and he travelled across galaxies in order to lie, cheat and swindle. The Wabbit hid round a corner and took out his automatic. Lapinette pranced into the theatre and danced to his stream of sales talk. "Super Crazy Prices, no crazier then here," shouted the Spieler. Lapinette yelled "Yay," and danced some more. "What can I sell the cute little lady in the tartan frock?" smiled the Spieler. "What'ya got?" responded Lapinette. She threw her hands in the air in the manner of a Highland Fling. The Spieler smiled. "I got asteroids, planets, nebulas. clusters. I got whole galaxies for less than a pack of peas." Lapinette laughed. "What about the whole universe?" The Spieler wasn't fazed at all. "Buy it from me and you'll be the sexiest rabbit in it!" The Wabbit had heard enough. He stepped out and pointed his automatic. "That's it, you faker. I'm arresting you for phony boney baloozy." The Spieler made his way to stand in front of the Wabbit. "You're out of your jurisdiction, Commander." He placed a bony finger on the muzzle of the automatic and added, "Or my names not Boney Maroney." He turned to walk back. The Wabbit fired. The Spieler kept walking, turning back once to raise a single digit. Then everything vanished. The auction room was the barest place you could imagine ...