The Wabbit at his Adventure Caffè

They all met in Testaccio Market. For once, Skratch was on time, since he was helping out a pal. Lapinette was late and as she headed round the corner, they greeted her with a loud Hello! "It's nice to make an entrance," she laughed. Skratch winked. "Since it is you that's late, you have to say what kind of adventure you were in." Lapinette hugged the Wabbit then leaped on to a bar stool. "I'd say it was a medieval kind of adventure. Historical drama if you like." The Wabbit also jumped on a stool. "Without the history." Wabsworth grinned. "Without anything. All texts refer to other texts. All stories have been told." Skratch was waiting to pounce. "The story has been told so many times. it hardly has any meaning left." "Umberto Eco," nodded Lapinette. They all nodded back. Soon everyone in Testaccio market was nodding. "The name of the Agents are almost non-existent and destroyed," muttered the Wabbit. "The story has been told and now only itself is left behind. Everything else disappears," said Wabsworth. "Into the void," added Lapinette. The Wabbit considered this for a whole minute. "Talking of voids, we were supposed to meet for a drink." Skratch meaowed. "I'll get everyone a Prosecco and since I'm in charge of the bar, it's on the house." The Wabbit leaned back. "The house always wins?" Lapinette grabbed a Prosecco. "Mostly," she smiled. "But most of your money disappears."

8. The Wabbit and the Trick of the Light

Lapinette tracked them down. With her super hearing she could hear the strange snickering sounds of their incisor teeth. They crept into the building. "What's that? asked the Wabbit. "Trick of the light," replied Wabsworth. Lapinette wasn't impressed. "Concentrate!" They drew their automatics. Rabits began to mount the stairs. One of them emerged from the underground cavern and made his way towards the window. The Wabbit shrugged. "They shouldn't make it so easy." Lapinette snorted. "It's never easy." Tipsy giggled and said something under her breath. The Lion of Judah had insisted on being part of the action and he nestled in large basket. The Wabbit thrust his paw deep in his fur. Lapinette hissed. "Wabbit, this building is a tourist attraction." The Wabbit grinned. Everyone knew his opinion of tourists. He pulled out a hand grenade. "Time for a New Year Kaboom." Lapinette groaned. "We can take a few Agents of Rabit with our automatics." The Wabbit shook his head. "Where's the stun in that? On the ground everyone." He crouched, pinned down his ears and threw the device towards the cavern. It spluttered. Nothing happened. The Wabbit held up a paw for what seemed like an age. There was an enormous crack. Agents dropped like stones. The Wabbit dusted himself off and waved his paws. "See - no damage." Then from the distance they heard the rumbling of stonework and what sounded like an avalanche. The Wabbit shrugged again. "Not much anyway."

7. The Wabbit and the Green Death Skull.

The rest of the team arrived just as a second explosion blew Wabsworth off his feet. Wabsworth reeled around. All his circuits were in danger of being fried. "It's the, it's the.." The words wouldn't come. Lapinette shot across the courtyard. The Wabbit came birling down the stairs. Tipsy knew what was going on and she dived for the radio. "He must have sent something on their frequency." Wabsworth tried to explain but he was still in a daze. Clouds swirled around them and from the midst a skull emerged and bore down. Tipsy yelled, "Death skull! Death skull!" Lapinette tried to grab the radio. In a trice both she and Tipsy had it. They looked at each other and at the radio. But the Wabbit had other ideas. He wrested it away and threw it over a wall. The boom shattered windows for a block. Green fumes were everywhere. The skull turned to look at the Wabbit. "Next time," he hissed, "you're mine." Then he faded. "Phew," breathed the Wabbit. He leaned against the wall and turned to Wabsworth. "Are you all right?" Wabsworth ran a diagnostic. "All appears to be optimal." Lapinette spoke to Tipsy. "How did you know?" Tipsy grinned. "I saw it in the movies. It represents death and power. Also it looked mean." The Wabbit breathed a sigh of relief. "But what's it got to do with the Agents of Rabit?" Lapinette shook her head. "We're going to find out. They haven't finished yet." 

[Skull by Squarefrog]

6. Wabsworth and the Agents' Radio

Wabsworth crouched in a corner. Two Agents were doing something in one of the workshops, but it was hard to see what it was. He heard them talking. "This will fix him," said one. "For once and for all," said the other. "It will be the best explosive know to rabbits!" One of them laughed. Wabsworth risked taking a look. He could see one Agent heating liquid in a clay pot. "Just do enough and they'll be ready for delivery." The other agent guffawed. "They'll all be scoffing, him and his friends - and then .." "Kaboom!" said the other. Wabsworth thought of a cunning plan. He'd noticed a radio - a walkie talkie - lying on a wooden bench. It was a repellent shade of yellow and he knew it must belong to the Agents. So he dialed through a number of frequencies. He murmured to himself. "I think this is the right one." He made an attempt and then quickly aborted. It crackled briefly, then cut off. "I thought I told you to switch that off." The Agent in charge was enraged. "It could blow us all to Kingdom Come!" The other agent dived for the radio, but Wabsworth was calling again. Sparks flew from their walkie talkie and reached the strange liquid brewing in the clay pot. Wabsworth was already hopping down the stairs when he heard the explosion. It was a slow build. Little noise at first, then a powerful shock wave knocked him down the rest of the steps. He dusted himself off and wondered whether the Wabbit would be annoyed. He shrugged and said to himself. "Many a slip between pot and lip."

5. Wabsworth and the Old Shop Window

Wabsworth was told to wait and until he heard otherwise that's what he had intended to do. He was an android copy of the Wabbit - but since that copy was made, he'd introduced a number of subroutines that were quite unlike the Wabbit's character. He waited, but he wouldn't wait indefinitely. The alleyway got boring after a while. The boredom routine was a Wabbit original and Wabsworth stamped a foot. It was a medieval street and that was enough to interest him for about half an hour. So he walked up and down looking from side to side. It was then that he noticed an old shop with dirty windows. With one of his paws, he rubbed dust away from a pane and squinted inside. It was an old pottery workshop and various artefacts were strewn across tables in an untidy fashion. That sparked his interest. He'd long been attracted to spinning a potter's wheel, whereas the Wabbit couldn't be bothered. But as he gazed, a sudden movement caught his eye. In the corner of the workshop two Agents of Rabit crept around. They moved stealthily. One was carrying a plate with a number stamped onto the surface, treating it with some care. The other prodded his back making him stumble. "Don't drop it you fool!" Wabsworth grinned. "Hello, hello," he murmured. The Agents seemed unaware of his presence. He moved towards a door and, without making a sound, held it ajar and sidestepped through the space. The two Agents headed up a stairway and Wabsworth followed ... 

4. The Wabbit and the Graffiti on the Wall

Picking up Tipsy at the station, they all made their way to King of Rome by underground. They pretended the Lion of Judah was a large dog and no-one took any notice. Lapinette was anxious to get where she was going, and she forged ahead. But the Lion stopped to look at Graffiti on the walls. "It looks like Aramaic," he said. "It a Kingly welcome from the King of Rome to the King of Judah." Tipsy glanced at it. "Who's Denise?" she asked. "Queen of Sheba," answered Lapinette, who was anxious to press on to whatever destination she had in mind. "She has my ring," said the Lion. "Actually, Bob Marley has it now," announced the Wabbit. "So it's six feet under," announced Tipsy. "It's pretty but it's only a ring," said the Lion. He turned and padded up the street. Tipsy jogged along on his back, quiet for once, respectful even. She leant down to his mane and whispered. "What's all this about the Lion and the Lamb?" The Lion let out an enormous bellow that turned the heads of ordinary Romans in the street. "I am both. As confirmed in Revelations." The Wabbit paused and spoke into his radio. "Exodus." It was the code for the troops to gather. The radio crackled with confirmations. The Wabbit grinned. "Just time for a Christmas drink. There's a bar near here that sells Whitbread." Tipsy cheered and cheered. The Lion of Judah stopped. "My eyes shall be red with wine!" Lapinette gave in. "Just the one then."

3. The Wabbit and The Lion of Judah

Lapinette and the Wabbit landed to look at the ears, but they were in for several surprises. In a bleak windswept place, there was a lion and a deep cave. The cave was shaped like a lion and looked like it might swallow anyone who entered. A lion with flashing eyes stood guard outside the cave. "I am the Lion of Judah," said the Lion, "And this is my cave, in which I keep the seven seals." The Wabbit gently touched the lion's tail and pointed to the ears. "What about the ears?" The Lion turned and glared at the Wabbit. "These are the ears of the strange creatures who haunt me. I munch them off that they may not hear the coming." Lapinette hopped back. "That's harsh but fair," she said. "Yes, said the Lion, "and they're rather savoury." Lapinette shuddered, but the Wabbit was already thinking about recruiting him. "Would you consider a side mission?" The Lion of Judah shook his head so much his crown was in danger of falling off. "But you retreat before nothing," said the Wabbit. "You're right," nodded the Lion. "Then I propose you come with us," said the Wabbit, "We'll get these Sons of Satan together." "The Agents are the Sons of Satan?" queried Lapinette. "I promoted them," replied the Wabbit. The Lion looked around. "What about my Lion's cave?" The Wabbit fished for his radio. "I'll place an armed guard on it. No-one will get the seals." The radio crackled as the Wabbit issued orders to his 400 Rabbits. "Here comes the King," muttered the Lion.

2. The Wabbit and the Noisy Pick up

The Wabbit didn't really know Lapinette was on her way, but he figured it out. Anyway he could hear the engines of Susan the Biplane coming for a long way off. He climbed to the top of a tower and jumped onto Susan's wing. "We keep doing this," smiled Lapinette. "We must like it," replied the Wabbit. "When you've quite finished," said Susan, I'd appreciate directions." The Wabbit clambered aboard. "Just fly round and keep a look out for the Agents of Rabit. You can tell them by their ears." Susan banked steeply and circled. Her engines roared. "I didn't say make them deaf," said the Wabbit. It was a pleasant day. The sky was blue. The odd cloud scuffed across the it. "Nice spot," said Lapinette. The Wabbit grinned. "Plenty of nice spots round here." They sped across the horizon. "What are you expecting?" said Lapinette. The Wabbit wrinkled his nose. "I heard word that they planned a surprise attack." Susan's engine growled. "They always surprise us at Christmas!" The Wabbit shrugged. "They're creatures of habit." He looked down. "I saw one there." Lapinette looked too. "No it's just a pair of hedge clippers." Susan dived towards the object. "You can't be too careful." Lapinette laughed. "Why beat about the bush?" As they got closer, the hedge clippers swam into focus. They could see they weren't clippers but pairs of detached ears. Lots of them. "Ear ear," said the Wabbit. Susan's engines growled again. "I'd better land before there are any more bad jokes." "Don't worry," said the Wabbit, "they can't hear us."

1. The Wabbit and his Christmas Orders

The Wabbit ambled through a village in Vescia. He liked it there because it was abandoned and there was a story he'd heard from locals. Years before and weakened by earthquakes, the village started to crumble and collapse. Yet the people who lived there refused to leave - despite much encouragement and inducements. So the authorities took an unusual decision. They decided to bomb the village. The Wabbit imagined planes coming in and he shook as he visualised bomb doors opening to deliver the payload. He shook his head. He would have used his fabulous Wabtech engineering to fashion a support structure. Then he thought of the cost. He plucked his radio from his fur. "Wabbit to base, come in Lapinette." The radio crackled for rather longer than expected. "Lapinette. Receiving you loud and clear. What's your 20?" The Wabbit grinned. "I'm somewhere in Vescia." He liked to be mysterious. The radio hissed again. "Do bring back some nice cheese." The Wabbit grinned again. "Wilco. I'm really calling to instruct the team to head to Rome." Lapinette's laughter tingled across the ether. "They're already here, Wabbit." The Wabbit grunted. "Including your personal guard?" "Tipsy is exploring new stores," replied Lapinette. The Wabbit knew exactly the shop Tipsy was exploring. "The World of Drink?" The radio hissed and crackled. The Wabbit spoke again. "I hear the Agents of Rabit have a paw hold here, but I've seen neither hide nor hare of them." Lapinette had little tolerance for the Wabbit's bad jokes. Her shrug was audible, even over the radio. "Lapinette out." 

The Wabbit and St Andrews Day.

Lapinette saw the Wabbit standing by the lighthouse gate, and she jumped in the air and touched him with her paws. He looked wistful so she tried to cheer him up. "Come on Wabbit, it's St Andrews." The Wabbits were in Galloway for the occasion and somehow especially in Galloway the vote never went right. "I'm pining for my country," said the Wabbit. "Oh," said Lapinette, "They'll come to their senses soon." The Wabbit shrugged. For two pins he would rally all the rabbits at his disposal and march on London at that very moment. Lapinette knew what he was thinking. "That wouldn't be wise, Wabbit. It's not how things are done at the minute." The Wabbit grunted. Lapinette laughed. "Look, I got you a bottle of Laphroaig." The Wabbit cheered up immediately. It was his favourite whisky. "There's haggis and all sorts," she grinned. "Is there shortbread?" The Wabbit wanted a bit of comfort. She paused. "Yes, there is. And there's plenty of time for worrying about votes but not now." The Wabbit was definitely cheered. "There's Helensburgh tablet too. I made it myself." Lapinette pirouetted. "Isn't your Uncle the Chief of Galloway?" The Wabbit made a face. "Aye he is. He's quite old and maybe he's even dead." Just then, he heard a distant cry. "I'm no deid yet! Not by a long shot." The Wabbit started to laugh. "Come away in tae the body of the kirk, Uncle Chief." The Chief's voice got closer. "Wabbit, is that yer wee wifie?" Lapinette stifled a giggle and shouted back. "No sae wee as ye think."

The Wabbit at his Adventure Caffè

The team assembled at the designated Adventure Caffè. Rain was just starting - umbrella sellers had already hit the streets. The Caffè was in the shopping district where Wabsworth had been buying shoes and he plonked them on the table. The Wabbit barely glanced at them but he made a comment. "I didn't know you liked shoes, Wabsworth." Wabsworth was an android copy of the Wabbit, but he had his own opinions on shopping. "It's cyber-Monday. I got 50 per cent off loafers." Lapinette grinned. "I gave Wabsworth my card. I'm a Super Friend of Geox." The Wabbit shrugged. Whatever Monday it was, he knew that commercially, it may as well never have happened. "There's Skratch," pointed Lapinette. Skratch emerged from the Caffè and waved. "What was that for a sort of Adventure you just had?" They all considered. "It was a kind of children's story," said Wabsworth. "But what kind of a children's story?" responded Lapinette. "It was a colour story," meaowed Skratch, "Colour is a semiotic induction. It engages with the unconscious to perform the labour of imagining." The Wabbit chipped in here. "I think my Adventure story tasted pink." Skratch meaowed hard and long. "It was pink all over." Lapinette shook with laughter. "Are you referring to semiotic metaphor?" Skratch laughed. "I might have been. But the overall tone and appeal was definitely pink. So it was a dual sign, picture-story event." Lapinette looked pensive. "Hmm. The sign is generative and generates another system of signs which also functions as a sign." The Wabbit sighed and called for the waiter. "I need a strong pink drink."

6. The Wabbit and the Medieval Print

The Wabbit was as good as his word. He searched out a suitable space for a copy shop and installed the printer. Before long, pink paper was flying from the output tray. The cartridge came out to inspect his new location. "This is a medieval castle," he exclaimed, "and it's quite pink." The Printer rumbled in the background. "How did you find this place?" The Wabbit explained. "Oh, I was one one of these bus tours and we all had to file round. I had a quiet word with the owners. Now you're obliged to print their promotional leaflets." The cartridge was ecstatic. "As long as they're pink!" The Wabbit swivelled to take in the scene - and noticed two pink chairs. "They do seem to like pink." The cartridge pointed to the pink paper. "We wanted to give you a special present. It will take a while to get your image perfectly pink." The Wabbit looked at the paper and smiled. Every page had his picture, in which he was completely pink. "I'm flattered," said the Wabbit. "I'm going to tweak it again," said the cartridge, "Where would you like them delivered?" The Wabbit grinned. "I'm going back home. Just address them to The Wabbit, Rome." The Printer rumbled again. "They'll be a few days. We got rather a large order for wedding invitations." The Wabbit waved and made to lope off. He felt a warm glow and turned. "I'm feeling in the pink," he said. "So don't forget to visit," said the Printer. "Don't worry, I'll be back," smiled the Wabbit, "to pick up my commission." Then they laughed and laughed and laughed.

5. The Wabbit and the Bid for Freedom

The print cartridge took off straight out the door. The Wabbit followed. The cartridge was fast and the Wabbit had to use his special powers to keep. They sped through town and country. Everything was a blur, until they reached a small medieval town. It was entirely lit in pink which delighted the cartridge. "Pink pink pink," it yelled, "This must be home." The cartridge slowed down and so did the Wabbit. The Printer came to a juddering stop. The cartridge danced round and round. "I'm home, I'm home. This is the place I want to be." The Printer looked around. "I'm very surprised that - I rather like this place." The Wabbit gasped for breath but he was pleased a solution was in sight. "I'm certain we can find you a billet. Every town needs a print shop." The cartridge was overjoyed. The Printer seemed pleased. There was lovely fresh air, and everything was quiet. "Peace and quiet to print books," said the Printer, "Just what I always wanted." "I can pink them up," said the cartridge. "Pink Panther," suggested the Wabbit. "The Adventures of Mr Pink-Whistle," murmured the Printer. "Pretty in Pink," yelled the cartridge. The Wabbit held up a paw. "We've just got to find you a premises. Then you can print anything you want. People will flock." The Printer opened his ink compartment and with a single leap, the cartridge jumped in. "It's a little late but we'll find something," stated the Wabbit. Then in high spirits, they wandered through the streets of the small medieval town.
 

4. The Wabbit and the Angry Printer

The Wabbit had seen angry customers before but nothing like the furious printer. He came storming into the shop like the antichrist. His cover waved wildly. Shelves shook and shop produce shivered in fright. He yelled and shouted and ranted and raved. "I am the Printer!" He let fly a series of swear words that would have astonished the Ancient Mariner. "I am the one who knocks!" he yelled. The Wabbit's ears curled, and he couldn't help but step back. So he used his best powers of diplomacy. "How can I help you?" he asked, "I can see you're a little annoyed." The Printer shook with rage. His lid slammed up and down. "Get my print cartridge!" The Wabbit smiled his most diplomatic smile. "He's otherwise engaged but if you give him a second, he'll be with you." The Printer looked at the Wabbit in disgust. "And you are?" The Wabbit smiled again. "I am your most obedient servant." He nodded. Then he nodded again for good measure and waited. "What's my cartridge doing?" asked the Printer. He seemed to have calmed. "Sampling pink drinks," explained the Wabbit. "Pink drinks again," said the Printer. He sighed. "I knew it. He's not content with simple cartridge ink." The Wabbit's ears returned to normal. "If you'd wait a second. He's a little indisposed." "Drunk you mean." "A bit unsteady," replied the Wabbit. "He's got a big job coming up," groaned the Printer. "War and Peace,", suggested the Wabbit. "War and Peach," responded the Printer. "Peachy," grinned the Wabbit. "Wait outside and I'll get him for you. I'm sure I can cake peach." "Make peace," you mean." said the Printer. "No," laughed the Wabbit.

3. The Wabbit and the Shop on the Corner

The Wabbit and the print cartridge made their way to the place the Wabbit had identified through an intensive advertising campaign on the Internet. "I see this is aimed at foreigners," said the Wabbit. He wrinkled his nose, then saw his favourite sauces and gasped. The cartridge was delighted to find pink wine. "I see pink," he yelled, "I want that one and that one and that one!" The cartridge was agitated and in danger of knocking things to the floor. "Settle down now," said the Wabbit. "There's a bar at the back and you can choose one and drink it there." The cartridge couldn't wait. He deftly uncorked wine bottle after wine bottle and sucked up the contents. "Slur slurp slurp, Pink pink pink!" His cartridges filled with wine and bulged alarmingly. He demolished several bottles with speed and reached for more. The Wabbit was horrified and reached in his fur for his credit card - which he seldom used. "Savour the wine," he called. "Take only small sips." But the print cartridge got rounder and larger. Finally it stopped, burped and sprayed jets of pink wine across the shop. Despite himself the Wabbit started to laugh. He held his sides and hooted. "You're drunk!" he said. "I shertainly shnott," slobbered the cartridge. The Wabbit turned to take in a disturbance at the door where something was ranting and raving. "Give me back my ink cartridge. I'm the printer and I'm late with an urgent job. Give me it at once!" The commotion continued. "If you'll excuse me for a minute, I'll just go and take a look," said the Wabbit. He wiped ink from his face and hopped towards the entrance.