3. The Wabbit and Beelzebub Cometh

"Ah there he is," said the Raven, "Coming from downstairs exactly as I said." The ghostly apparition moved stolidly forward. "I am Beelzebub!" he said. He took a step forward. "I am Beelzebub." he repeated. "I am cometh. For I am Beelzebub." The Wabbit paused on the stairs. "He reminds me of someone." The Raven had seen him before. "Pass foul fiend, pass." Beelzebub moved forward at a steady pace. He rounded the corner of the stairs and advanced on the Wabbit and Lapinette, one step at a time. And all the while he intoned. "I am Beelzebub, I am cometh." Lapinette's paw gripped the bannister. The Wabbit's held out a steadying paw to Lapinette. Maybe it was for his own safety. He gritted his teeth. Beelzebub faded and passed through the Wabbit as if he were nothing. The Wabbit felt icy cold and then all was gone. Left behind was an acrid sulphurous smell. The Raven chattered and croaked and that was spooky enough. "I told you. The stairs are spooky." The Wabbit turned to Lapinette. "Did you feel that?" Lapinette shivered. "I did." The Wabbit took a step forward. "May as well go on down. Is that all there is?" The Raven cackled. "Not at all. There's much worse to come." "Can you call these spirits from the vastly deep?" asked the Wabbit. "Anyone can," said the Raven. "Can you make dreadful discords too," asked Lapinette. "Aye and chattering pies," said the Raven. The Wabbit's stomach rumbled. "I knew I could smell food," he said.

2. The Wabbit and the Spooky Stairs

"This is the stairway," said the Raven. "I'd never have known," said the Wabbit. "Look! There's a spook now," said the Raven. The Wabbit shook his head and pointed. "That's Lapinette. I know she can be scary. But she's no ghost." Lapinette floated down in an ethereal kind of way. "Wabbit, I wanted to be sure you weren't getting into any kind of trouble." The Wabbit grinned. "Everyone wants to look after me." The Raven addressed Lapinette. "You look like a funny kind of rabbit. You're sure you're not a spook?" "Some say," responded Lapinette. "I warned the Wabbit not to use these stairs. They're haunted," said the Raven. "Just like in books?" replied Lapinette. "A Raven is like a writing desk," ventured the Wabbit. "Now don't you start," said the Raven, "I've had all I can take of writing desks." The Wabbit looked up above. "Shouldn't we check upstairs?" The Raven snorted. "Of course not. Ghosts are seldom if ever upstairs. they're usually downstairs with the unconscious." Lapinette joined the Wabbit on the landing. "But isn't the object to get downstairs without meeting any ghosts?" "You're as bad as he is," muttered the Raven. He made a series of gurgling croaks. "Please lead the way down the staircase and keep an eye open for spectres." At that moment they heard a haunting cry. It lasted long and sounded chilling. "I'm up for it if you are, Wabbit," said Lapinette. "So many horrid ghosts," shrugged the Wabbit. "How dare they?" said Lapinette. "Words spoken cannot be recalled," croaked the Raven," so think twice before you speak." 

1. The Wabbit and the Raven's Warning

The Wabbit was back in Turin inspecting the works on the Department of Wabbit Affairs. He was not altogether pleased, but then again, nothing much pleased the Wabbit. He wandered through the building looking it up and down. The Interior Designers had their messy paws in everything he noticed, but altogether it wasn't that bad. He'd reached the top of the building and was going to sneak down the emergency stairs when he saw a strange display. "Oh really," he said, "they've gone too far this time." He stared for a bit because the figure looked familiar. He'd seen a raven just like it at the old castle. "Beware!" said the Raven. "Beware of the stairs!" The Wabbit often received beware messages and he generally took no notice. He gave the Raven an old-fashioned look. "What's wrong with the stairs. Are they a bit rickety?" The Raven lifted its hooked beak and spoke in a quavering voice "They're not rickety, they're ghostly stairs and you'll be doomed, doomed I tell you." The Wabbit looked all round and squinted into the distance. The stairs looked perfectly normal. "It's the quickest way out," he said. He noticed no-one else was using them and he wrinkled his nose. "I'll just go and have a look." The Raven swallowed hard. "I'd better come with you. In case you get into any trouble." The Wabbit laughed. "Trouble is my middle name." The Raven wanted to know whether the Wabbit had any other names. "Double," said the Wabbit, "Let's go." Then together, they went to the staircase ... 

The Wabbit and his Adventure Caffè

The team gathered early morning at a Caffè in Testaccio Market. There was hardly anyone around. It was a holiday and very few market stalls were open. They grinned at each other and said together, "What was that for a sort of Adventure?" Skratch purred. "It was purportedly an environmental adventure with dire warnings about what was in store for the earth. But it was about something else." Wabsworth raised a paw. "The backdrop was more of a considered awareness of the natural world." Lapinette shook her head. "There was a key duality between environment with a post-apocalyptic flavour, and the question of waste itself." The Wabbit raised a paw in the air. "Real questions about what to do with waste." They contemplated for a second. Skratch was first to break the silence. "Charles Soukup poses an interesting question. He says techno-scopophilia and the voyeuristic portrayal of military technology itself is highly sexualised." Everyone's eyes went large. Lapinette pursed her lips. "There goes the family audience." Wabsworth tried to rescue the conversation. "Soukup also points out that the power of technology can be portrayed as both unwieldy and uncontrollable." The Wabbit threw up both paws. "I'll go with that, Wabsworth. We surely aren't victims of the sexualised scopic gaze." Lapinette smiled sardonically. "We're more art house than grind house." The Wabbit leaned back and looked around. "I fancy a Prosecco. Anyone joining me?" "It's 9 o'clock in the morning," gasped Lapinette. "I love the smell of Prosecco in the morning," said the Wabbit.

7. The Wabbit and the Ghastly Waste

Susan flung a grappling hook at the container, and they were off. But before they cleared the horizon a green ship rose from behind a ghostly moon and fired a single shot. It was a bolt of yellow lightening and it struck the container dead centre. The container glowed red, then exploded. Green toxic waste spilled out, bubbled onto the planet surface and into the reaches of the atmosphere. "Change of plan?" muttered the Wabbit. "They'd rather pollute than purify," said Lapinette. "Not much we can do at this stage," shrugged Wabsworth. "Interstellar Mode," snapped Lapinette. Susan didn't wait for an instant. With a roar of her propellers she vanished into a single white light. Space seemed different. Quiet. Eerie. "Not much to look at," said the Wabbit. "In Interstellar Mode, there's no-one to hear you complain," quipped Susan, "How long until we get home?" said the Wabbit. "Since I don't know where we started from, I've no idea," replied Susan. Wabsworth offered a solution. "I made some measurements. We'll be home in time for tea." Lapinette laughed. "None of us drink tea." "I'll do them again," said Wabsworth. He whirred a bit. "Time for Prosecco." Susan chortled. In Interstellar Mode it's hard to tell time." "Must be late then," said the Wabbit. "Or even early," said Lapinette. Susan switched off the drive and the earth swam into view. "Can you see a bar?" asked Lapinette. She wiggled her ears. "Because I can." The Wabbit had a fit of the giggles. "Take us in Susan. It's opening time."

 [Background Picture Pixabay.]

6. The Wabbit and the Toxic Trouble

Night fell. The desert gave way to a barren landscape. They could make out alien planets in the sky - or were they suns? There was no way of knowing. The team were on the Ice Mice before they knew it. Massive ears could be seen as they worked on one of their installations - the usual assembly of giant ice cubes. But there was a difference. A giant canister protruded from the dusty planet surface. "Let's go," yelled the Wabbit. He jumped from Susan's wing and so did Lapinette. Together they inspected the canister. "Toxic waste," murmured the Wabbit. "How can you tell?" asked Lapinette. The Wabbit grimaced. "It always comes in rusty containers like this. Destined for earth no doubt." They saw two more Ice Mice emerge from beneath the container and run for their lives. "Technicians," said the Wabbit. Lapinette agreed "They have notebooks." Susan circled overhead with Wabsworth. The Wabbit made a sign for Wabsworth to release the grappling hook. "What's your plan?" queried Lapinette. "Get it off-planet," said the Wabbit, "We can't destroy it. It'll hurl crap everywhere." Lapinette frowned at the Wabbit's use of bad language, but decided to let it go. "What about the Ice Mice?" The Wabbit had no idea. "We'll decide later?" He fished in his fur for a package of dynamite and passed it to Lapinette. "You throw it. Keep em busy." Lapinette pitched it as far she could. The Wabbit took brief aim and fired a single shot. There was a distant explosion accompanied by mice-like squeaks. "Fire in the mouse hole," said the Wabbit.
[Background pictures from Pixabay   ]

5. The Wabbit and the Unnamed Desert

The team had nicknamed the place Chuck a Luck, but they weren't having much luck at all. The further they trekked, the bleaker it became. The ground beneath their feet was super parched. The sky turned from red to black. The few clouds there were, refused to give up their payload. No water was to be had, except for weak rainfall around an old dead tree. It was Lapinette that spotted it. She took a cup from her frock and held it out to the meagre shower that surrounded the branches. "Yeugh," she yelled. It was brackish and undrinkable. The Wabbit felt in his fur for a water flask, but there was none. Susan the Biplane flew overhead, dead slow to conserve fuel. They could have travelled with Susan but the Wabbit insisted he could see more from the ground. He began to regret it. "This was once a sea," he said. Everyone had noticed the abandoned barge and they nodded. "Climate change," said Wabsworth. "Maybe this is our future," remarked the Wabbit. Lapinette began to sing again, and everyone slapped a paw to their heads. "After three days in the sun. I was looking at a dry seabed. The story it told of a sea that once flowed. Made me sad it was dead." The Wabbit stared at Lapinette. "What's with all the singing?" Lapinette smiled a strange smile. "Passes the time when we're looking for Ice Mice." Wabsworth laughed. "We'll sing them into submission." They trudged on. "I'm imagining a glass of Prosecco," said the Wabbit. "Imagine one for me too," said Lapinette. 

[Background Picture: MartySeb Pixabay.]

4. The Wabbit and the Alpine Recce

Susan flew into the Alps and for a while her visibility declined. It was as if they were in a fog. But then the fog began to clear. They all blinked. "Where are we?" asked the Wabbit. For once Wabsworth was nonplussed. What lay beneath them was a hot ocean. Above them, two alien suns. And there was rain in copious quantities - but the rain was warm, and it poured down their backs like a hot shower. They jumped from Susan onto a black, charred beach and ran jumping. Lapinette pointed. "Over there. I see rocks." The rocks were hot too but not as hot as the beach. They rested there for a while. Susan hovered over the hot sea. "I'll wait here," she said. "I'm not keen on Turkish baths. They rust my mechanisms." Lapinette had been thinking. "Maybe this is the Ice Mice Hideaway. In a time warp in the Alps." Wabsworth chortled. "Like Rancho Notorious." The Wabbit was amused. "We'll call this Planet Chuck a Luck." They turned, astonished, as Lapinette pirouetted and began to sing in a haunting voice. 

                                      It began, they say, one summer day,

                                      When the sun was blazing down,

                                      It was back in the early seventies,

                                      In a little Wyoming Town

                                      So listen to the story of Chuck a Luck,

                                      Listen to the Wheels of Fate, 

                                      As round and round with a whispering sound, 

                                      It sings the old old story of  ...

                                      ... Hate, murder and revenge.

"What's that got to do with anything?" asked the Wabbit. "I quite liked it," said Wabsworth. "It's a gambling song," said the Wabbit, "but what about hate murder and revenge?" "I'll get to that," said Lapinette.

3. The Wabbit & the Ice Mice Installation

It happened in an instant. They found the Ice Mice and their installation. It was in the shape of a tower and seemed to fulfil a particular purpose. Susan flew back and forth chopping their ice blocks to pieces. Then she activated her air conditioning unit and added a few more ice blocks for good measure. Lapinette and Wabsworth chucked ice on the Ice Mice without mercy and watched them turn tail and run. "That was too easy," commented the Wabbit, "but what the binky were they doing?" Lapinette scrunched up her eyes. "I think it was some kind of reverse air conditioning. It makes ice blocks and leaves the rest of the land ... just desert." Wabsworth was thinking too. "Evapotranspiration?" The Wabbit brought Susan round. "Something of the sort. And the possible end of the line for Turin." Susan wheeled about again in a corkscrew fashion. "Were not going to allow it. Let's hunt the rest of them down!" The three squeezed into a cockpit that was only big enough for one. The Wabbit boosted the heating. "Do a recce of the Alps, Susan," he murmured. "Right away Sir," said Susan, "What music would you like?" Lapinette jumped in because she somewhat disapproved of Susan's affection for the Wabbit. "It's cold outside," she suggested. "OK fine, just another drink then," joked the Wabbit. He delved into his fur, took out a hip flask and poured whisky into three stainless steel glasses. "That took a lot of convincing," laughed Lapinette.

[Background photo:  https://pixabay.com/photos/three-peaks-mountains-lime-rock-176000/] 

2. The Wabbit and the Deserted Desert

The throb of a biplane's engines cut into the summer air and before long the Wabbit and Lapinette took off in Susan and flew north. Susan had brought Wabsworth along for his android knowledge - since he'd been forever complaining about not appearing in an adventure. But as they flew further things began to get drier. By the time they were over Piedmont, the landscape was unrecognisable. The air was like a thousand hairdryers. Susan skimmed the desert sand. Only a few scrubby plants remained in what had been lush fields and pasture. "Can your sensors detect any water, Susan?" asked the Wabbit. "Hardly any," said Susan. Lapinette had sharper eyes than most and she looked out. "Over there!" "Over where? asked the Wabbit. He was just being annoying. She pointed. "Blind as a bat," she muttered under her breath. The Wabbit grinned and twisted the joystick. Susan wheeled to port. "I saw a camel over there!" joked the Wabbit. "As it happens, I did see a camel over there," said Lapinette. Wabsworth chimed in "It's probably got the hump." "One hump or two?" said Susan. They laughed and laughed. But the landscape became progressively drier. "Where's that water?" asked the Wabbit. "Evaporating as we speak," said Lapinette. "No visual bearings now," said Susan, "just desert." The Wabbit gripped the joystick between his paws and flailed his paws. "I'd like a nice dessert." Wabsworth looked down. The arid air was bad for his fur. "My sense of humour sub routine has deserted me." Lapinette held her paw aloft. "I see a volume of ice and think I can see the Ice Mice." Wabsworth scowled. "I hate these pesky rodents."

[Background picture:  Art Tower ]

1. The Wabbit and the Free Water

The cleaning wagon made a whooshing noise and the Wabbit turned. There was a free water fountain where Rome provided pure water for citizens. It was near St Peter's rail station - and there the Wabbit often stood to watch the trains go by. He paused on the sidewalk with his bottle. It was seriously hot, and humidity soaked his coat. He could have switched on the air conditioning unit that he kept in his fur - but he wanted to feel the heat like everyone else. He watched the wagon go through its regular cleaning motions and he felt pleased that it was there. People were messy and the Wabbit greatly disapproved of litter. Travellers came and went, although there were fewer than there used to be. The Wabbit wondered where the line went. He'd investigated and it was rather easy to look up on a map. But every time he did, the line disappeared into tunnels and he would give up. The Wabbit thought he'd leave it to chance to find out. The question of water remained. It had been a long time since it rained, and the river looked very low. Back in Turin, the Po was as low as could be. Probably he could wade across. That was something that couldn't be left to chance. The Ice Mice crossed his mind. They were always messing with the weather and the Wabbit had been forced to deal with them on several occasions. He made a mental note. < Check out Ice Mice >. He forced himself to stop wondering about things. Lapinette often said it was bad for him and probably it was. It was then that he heard a shout and he swivelled his eyes ... 

The Wabbit at his Adventure Caffè

The team met at a Caffè they didn't know. Lapinette was in ebullient mood. She flew through the door and jumped in the air with delight. "What was that for a sort of Adventure?" she cried. The Wabbit looked bemused. Skratch answered immediately. "High tech narrative world making," he meaowed. "The references to Westworld were well placed to exploit the world-within-a-world approach." The Wabbit smiled. "You go too far Skratch. It was just a bit of fun." Wabsworth rapped on the table. "Let's have some order here. It was in fact a reflexive world embedded in worldly experience." Skratch let out a hiss that was close to a shriek. "It was a paradoxical transgression between the world of the telling and that of the told." Lapinette squealed. "Oooh! Gerard Genette and his extra diegetic narrator intruding into the diegetic universe!" The Wabbit nodded. "Metalepsis if you like." Lapinette clapped her paws together. "Oh, that's far too technical. I really enjoyed the story. It was great fun to be in." Wabsworth seemed pained. "It's been quite a while since I was in a story." Skratch nodded. "Me too." It was the Wabbit's turn to clap his paws - which he did twice, sharply. "I can guarantee you'll be in the next one." He paused. "Always supposing you buy me a drink." "What would you like, Wabbit?" said Skratch. "And you too, Lovely Lapinette? "I'd like something really cold," said the Wabbit. "So would I," said Lapinette. Skratch raised his paw. "Prosecco all round!" The robotic voice of the waiter sounded. "That-is-all-we-have."

9. The Wabbits come home to Rome

Pacchero scooped up the Wabbit and Lapinette and flew through time to deposit them back where they'd come from. When they lurched from Pacchero's capacious girth, they saw he'd landed beside a caricature of the Pope. The Wabbit smiled. he knew Pacchero was playing a final joke. "What's this? A refugee from that Banksy exhibition?" asked Lapinette. The Wabbit laughed and laughed and waved heartily. "It's St Peter the Roman who will preside over the last judgement." Lapinette waved too. "Rome under heavy manners?" she asked, "I didn't say it was that bad." Pacchero trembled slightly. "Your description of Rome sounded like the end of the line. So I brought you to this quiet spot to contemplate the future." Pacchero went on. "He will pasture his sheep in many tribulations and lay waste the seven hills of Rome." The Wabbit smiled and shook his head. "Much too apocalyptic for me." Lapinette was thoughtful and changed the subject. "What are you going to do now Pacchero? Pasta World doesn't seem to be working out for you." Pacchero laughed. "I'm thinking of a new venture. The great Pasta Trail. A Pasta path leads round the coast and takes you past all the great Italian seascapes." The Wabbit dissolved into laughter. "You'll start with Ponzi." Lapinette put her paws on her hips. "You mean Ponza with its wonderful history." The Wabbit doubled up. "No. I meant Ponzi, for money making fun." "Ponzi bought a macaroni factory you know," said Lapinette. Pacchero trembled. "What happened to it?" "His management pasta way," quipped the Wabbit.

8. The Wabbit in Old Rome World

No longer in Pasta World, they'd crossed into Roman World and taken the pasta with them. "What the binky is going on?" shouted the Wabbit. "You're not supposed to be here," yelled a Roman soldier. "This is Roman World. Get out and take that pasta with you. We haven't invented it yet." The farfalle swarmed all around the soldiers. Blood spurted right and left but it was fake. Radiatori crawled around the scene getting in the way. Lapinette grimaced and wiped the spatters from her frock. She examined them, then sniffed them. "This blood is pasta sauce." The Wabbit was furious. "This whole thing is bananas," he yelled. Lapinette was horrified. "Don't mention bananas, that's tempting fate." The Roman soldiers stood stiffly to attention. "We just don't appreciate this. Rectify it immediately and begone." The Wabbit grunted. "This is all Pacchero's fault." Lapinette dragged herself from under a mountain of pasta. "I lost track of him. Where is he?" Just then a voice boomed out. "Don't worry I've got everything under control. I'm bringing you back." The Wabbit's voice was icy. "Bringing us back where?" Pacchero's voice boomed again. "Where you first started." He paused. "Where did you start? Was it Calypso World?" The Wabbit lost his temper. "It was Via Giulia in Rome," he snapped. "Rome when?" asked Pacchero. "Rome now," shrugged the Wabbit. "Rome in the 21st Century," explained Lapinette. "You know. Buses, taxis, tourists, hustle, bustle, double parking." Pacchero considered. "And just remind me - where was that again?" 

7. The Wabbit and the Big Heat

They ran down the tracks of the Control Room until the tunnel exit became a spiral. The Farfalla wasn't going to give up and he charged at the Wabbit and Lapinette. They continued to retreat but the Wabbit grabbed a couple of fire hoses from the wall and tossed one at Lapinette. Then they hosed the farfalla for all they were worth. But the Wabbit had something else in mind. With an industrial heater he kept in his fur he began to heat the water until it reached boiling point. The farfalla was tough and resisted but couldn't do anything about the temperature. It began to get soft and as the boiling water poured over it, it emitted a terrible hissing. The Wabbit increased the temperature. The farfalla was in the middle of a hurricane of scalding water. They had the upper paw now and the Wabbit decreased the water flow. The farfalla was extremely limp and fell to the ground, flopping around like a jelly fish. "I think that takes care of that," he said. Lapinette nodded and put down her fire hose. "I can't help feeling sorry for it." But the floundering gave way to twitching. The twitching gave way to spasms. Suddenly the serrated edges of the farfalla sprouted like the teeth of the hydra. They waved menacingly and started towards the Wabbit. "Any ideas?" said Lapinette. Only one," replied the Wabbit. Together they turned tail and ran down into the spiral. But the spiral began to spin faster and faster to a blur. When it stopped, they found themselves in another phantasmagorical pasta world ..