2. The Wabbit and the Stolen Painting

The Wabbit made a sudden dash for the door and down the stairs. He was too fast for the waiter. Tucked under his arm, the painting threatened to escape, but the Wabbit secured it and carried on. He could hear cries behind him but ignored them. He scurried round the entrance and back into the museum. A handy corner afforded him a hiding place. Museum staff came and went. He could hear them as they searched for a missing painting. "Where is it?" shouted an irate attendant. "It's Just Stop Oil up to one of their idiot pranks," shouted another. There was confusion. There was yelling. There was consternation. The Wabbit smiled and shrank further into the corner. "I'm an international art thief," he grinned. Sirens wailed outside. "I seem to have caused an incident," thought the Wabbit. He activated a switch under his fur and all but vanished. Voices became louder. "What's been stolen?" asked a policeman. "We're looking for it," said an attendant. "Looking for what?" said the policeman." The attendant shrugged. "We don't know, we just know it's missing." The policeman rocked back and forward on his heels. "What's it called?" The attendant shrugged. The Curator loomed into sight. "Nothing's missing. The entire museum has been searched. Nothing has gone at all." The Wabbit grinned. His plan was going well.  

1. The Wabbit and the Quick Hop Through

The Wabbit was having a hop through the Palazzo Barberini Museum. It was full of fantastic old pictures which he fully appreciated - so he'd told no-one otherwise his friends would give him chapter and verse. He especially liked Judith beheading Holofernes by Caravaggio - which he found a little horrific. "Theatrically lit," he murmured. Then he smiled. He found his way to the museum caffè, which was quite a grand affair. He looked up. "Solar panels?" he mused. "Most intriguing." He mentally placed the museum on his private list, then called for a prosecco. "Subito, Commander," said a waiter and indicated a seat. "No-one is supposed to know I'm here," said the Wabbit. "I won't tell a soul," replied the waiter. The Wabbit sat down. He felt peckish. "Do you have a salad club sandwich?" he asked. "Best in town," said the waiter. The sandwich was huge. He devoured it with gusto and beckoned for the waiter to return. "Did Caravaggio like sandwiches?" "Oh yes," replied the waiter, "especially artichoke panini." The Wabbit indicated he would like one. "It's called a Caravaggio Club," said the waiter. He brought one and another glass of prosecco. He paused. "Commander, about that painting poking out of your fur?" "My goodness," said the Wabbit. "I thought something was uncomfortable."

The Wabbit's Adventure Caffè

The gang was on its way to one of the many Caffès in the shopping centre. Lapinette was in a good mood, and she bounded into the Wabbit's paws. "What was that for a sort of adventure?" she shouted. The Wabbit was in good humour too. "It was a mythical adventure, full of mystery." Lapinette was full of beans, and she yelled, "Our stories are the principle conduit of mythology today." Skratch meaowed long and hard. "That's a synoptic historical generalisation if ever there was one." Wabsworth laughed. "Symbolic?" "Skratch paused. "No, synoptic." The Wabbit looked cynical. "Are you referring to the gospels." Skratch was nonplussed. "I mean it as pulling things together into a common point of view." "Mathew, Mark, Luke and John," said Lapinette. "Haud the cuddy 'til ah get on," added the Wabbit. "Wabsworth giggled. "That was synoptic." Skratch considered. "I think I know what you mean. Herzog said we have no adequate images." Lapinette laughed again. "Warner Herzog ate his shoe." "Les Blanc was being disingenuous," said Skratch, "The production of your images, the Kelpie, demands new images. Otherwise extinction will occur, and the Kelpie will bring it." Lapinette's mouth fell open. The Wabbit interjected. "If I don't get a drink in a minute, we'll all be extinguished."

6. The Wabbit and up ride with the Kelpie

The Wabbit was returning home by boat and he thought it was all over. Kelpies were gone - as were Nessie and the Agents of the Wabbit. He congratulated himself on a job well done. He thought he'd continue down the Tiber as far as it went. But without warning one of the Kelpies appeared in ghostly form. It shimmered in a mist of its own making. "Want to ride on my back, Commander?" The Wabbit knew better and shook his head. But he smiled. "You were a good opponent, Kelpie. Now go back to the watery depths." The Kelpie shook his giant mane and sprayed water across the Wabbit. "You haven't seen the last of us. We can bide our time." The Wabbit grinned. "Bide on then." The Kelpie began to sink to the bottom of the lake until only small bubbles remained. But then he spotted turbulence and heard a groan and a whinny. The Wabbit knew the mythical creatures would return. He started to think. If he could make an alliance with the Agents of Rabit it could be the start of something bigger. The engines changed note and the boat increased speed. Soon he would be home. He leaned on the rail and sang a sea shanty - although he knew no seafarer in their right mind would sing one in these modern times. "Say goodbye to all your dear kin, for they hate to see you go. In your young prime to this place of mine. In the still loch far below."

[Up ride with the kelpie]

5. The Wabbit sets a Wicked Trap

The Wabbit set the trap and the Kelpies fell for it. Night came. Two Agents set out into the depths of the lake and the Kelpies followed. The Agents swam and swam until they came to a split in the waters. They looked back. They felt hot breath on their cotton tails and swam faster. The Kelpies laughed. They thought the Agents were easy prey and they looked forward to dinner. Without warning the Agents swam in different directions and a curtain of water fell behind them. "Where have they gone?" asked a Kelpie. They continued along the tunnel, but the Agents had disappeared. The Kelpies searched and searched. The Agents were nowhere to be found. "We've been tricked and cheated of our prey," said a Kelpie. "Let's go back and find that Wabbit." They turned once, they turned twice. The way back was gone. "It's this way," said a Kelpie. "No, it's that way," said the other. They were trapped by the lake. The lake began to grumble and moan and thresh. No matter what way they swam they were caught. "We're jiggered," said a Kelpie. They sank to the bottom. "We'll bide our time here," said the other. "Our chance will come again." They settled on the bottom. Their manes spread out. "We'll get that Wabbit," they said together, "We'll get him and get him good." Before long they lay quiet in the deepest part of the lake. Waiting.

[Kelpie by Adrian at Pixabay]

4. The Wabbit and the Search for Prey

The Wabbit went on a search for suitable prey although he knew little about how to handle the situation. He called in at a deconsecrated church he knew was likely to harbour some Agents of Rabit - and to his surprise found Lovely Lapinette. She was deep in a conversational briefing with Major Spitlove, his double agent. When he explained his plan, they were both horrified. "On no account!" said Spitlove. "No way. No prey!" shrieked Lapinette. Now the Wabbit had no intention of sacrificing Agents of Rabit to the Kelpie - even if they were his mortal enemies. But the plan was risky. "We just have to persuade the Kelpie they have their prey," grinned the Wabbit, "and then they'll chase them through the tunnel to Scotland." Major Spitlove was not convinced. Neither was Lapinette. She shook her head. "Too much can go wrong." The Wabbit paused. "The tunnel has several tributaries. The Agents will branch through them at the last moment, and we'll block up the main tunnel behind them. Then free fish for all." Major Spitlove nodded. "It's a plan." Lapinette grimaced. "You're sure about this, Wabbit."  The Wabbit was elated. Nessie assures me it's all in place." "You didn't say anything about Nessie," groaned Lapinette. She slapped a paw to her forehead. "Who's Nessie?" asked Spitlove. "A long-necked plesiosaur from Petershead," laughed the Wabbit.

3. The Wabbit and the Kelpies

They waited for the kelpies and sure enough they came. It wasn't as dark as they expected, and they could see every pore in the flanks of the sea horses. "I'll away out and meet them," said Nessie. With the Wabbit hanging round his neck, he plunged through the lake. "Ho Kelpies," he cried. The Kelpies were sinewy and made not a splash as they carved through the water. "Have you brought us prey, Nessie? Our sweeping is nearly done." The Wabbit shuddered. "This isnae prey lads, this is ma wee friend the Wabbit. He'll find ye prey such as you've never seen." The Wabbit grinned weakly. The Kelpies were huge, and they snorted and snickered and neighed. "We're a little peckish." The way they spoke together was uncanny. "Would you like to climb on our backs," they said in unison. "I don't think so," said the Wabbit, "but I know some enemies that would be foolish enough to do it." One kelpie laughed. "We'll see your enemies in hell." The other laughed too. "We won't be prayin for them. They won't be preying for us." He giggled at his own pun. "Meet you tomorrow at the midnight hour when the trees rise up and the water is black," nodded the Wabbit. The Kelpies grunted and groaned and vanished beneath the water. Nessie turned to the Wabbit. "Hiv ye goat any enemies handy?" The Wabbit shrugged. "I think I can scare some up."

[Kelpies by a countryman of mine - David Connelly. Kelpies]

2. The Wabbit and the Lost Lake

The Wabbit stared and stared as out of a lake came a prehistoric monster. This one he knew as Nessie, but he was hardly expecting him. "Och laddie, whit are ye daein' here?" The Wabbit grinned. "More to the point Nessie, what are you doing here?" The water frothed around his fearsome head. "Am on my holidays." The Wabbit expected nothing less. "Where are we?" Nessie drew himself up to his full height. "Its a natural reserve on the Tiber, sonny. Tevere Farfa. There a wee tunnel no one knows. Would you like a lecture?" The Wabbit shrugged and declined. Nessie continued. "Ah came here for some peace an quiet awa from all the Scottish havering." The Wabbit shrugged. "What are you doing at then end of my tube?" "Whit tube?" The Wabbit looked behind him. There was no sign of tube, shopping centre, traffic or anything else. "Maybe you're part of the legend, sonny?" Nessie shook water from his jaws. But the Wabbit was interested. "Legend?" "Sometimes on a dark and moonless night," said Nessie, "the great cry of the Kelpie can be heard." The Wabbit nodded. "They sweep the surface clean," continued Nessie, "and then they bathe in the crystal clear waters with their prey." The Wabbit laughed. "Have you seen them?" Nessie growled. "Aye, but no for long. They eat their prey and disappear beneath the water." The Wabbit raised an eyebrow. "Is that it?" Nessie shuddered. "Except for the farting." 

1. The Wabbit and the Shopping Tube

The Wabbit was taking a walk through a shopping centre he didn't know, when he spotted a strange tube. He investigated and found it was designed for children to plunge down three floors. There were no children around. Most found it far too scary and they'd decamped to the phone shop. The Wabbit wondered if he could try it. He looked to right and left, put a euro in the slot and poised himself at the top. He looked down, shrugged his shoulders and took off. It was hot and the steel took some of his fur off. But he whizzed down, twirling as he went. He got quicker and quicker and saw the bottom coming up fast. There was a whirl of shops. He couldn't stop. He span, rotated and gyrated towards them, then through them. Shoppers leaped out of the way as the Wabbit tumbled in the middle of displays. A manager shot out from a doorway. "Stop, stop!" he cried. But the Wabbit could do nothing. It was as if an invisible force propelled him onward. He mouthed apologies as he went. He saw a window and there was little else he could do. He hunched a shoulder towards it and with a grunt and a splinter he shot through the glass. For a moment there was traffic. But this gave way to a watery, pastoral scene of unusual dimensions. "What the binky is this?" said the Wabbit.

The Wabbit & his Famous Adventure Caffè

The Wabbit gathered the rest of the team at Testaccio. It was hot. Seriously hot. No-one knew which way to look. The waiter was writing things on the blackboard, bleached by the heat of the scorching sun. The very air felt singed. Skratch leaped from the depth of a nearby bush. "It's hot hot hot," he meaowed. "Never mind that," said the Wabbit. "Tell us what kind of adventure we just had." Skratch paused. "Then get me a drink." The Wabbit gestured behind him. "The waiter is busy." Wabsworth called to the waiter. "Creatures dying of thirst here." His voice carried all his android authority. "Arrivo," smiled the waiter, "I was just writing special half-price offer on Prosecco," He went into the bar. "It was an odd adventure, filled with symbolic meaning." Lapinette raised a paw. "Museums offer a discourse about the past." Wabsworth agreed, He knew little about the past, being an android, so he said so. "I see it as a social construct, modified by the view of the observer." The Wabbit laughed. "Then history is what we make it." Skratch screeched. "History lies in the paws of the state and is much modified to suit the ruling class of the time." They all nodded. "But it resists change and will bite the bum of people who try." He looked to his right and noticed the waiter arriving with drinks. "And no prosecco is the curse of the working cat." Then despite the heat, they laughed until they dropped.

4. The Wabbit and the Alarmed Exit

As Lapinette turned to look upstairs, an unknown force carried them to their next destination. "Maybe this is the end of our journey?" she said. She jumped in the air. So did the Wabbit. He danced an impromptu version of a highland fling. "This is the Museo Centrale Montemartini, and this is the exit!" Lapinette laughed. "I think we can get out of here, but it's Monday. The Museum is closed." The Wabbit continued dancing. "And exits are alarmed." Lapinette decided to dance too and pirouetted. "We can dance our way out." They danced for a while, but the door refused to open. "It was a long shot," sang the Wabbit. "Just a pot shot," replied Lapinette. They settled down and thought of a plan. "I could just kick the panic bolt and then we could hop it," grinned the Wabbit. Lapinette considered it. "Mmm, the police will come." She shook her head. "But they don't usually. And we could be long, long gone." They danced again. "Which way would we go?" asked the Wabbit. "You decide," laughed Lapinette. The Wabbit flung his arms in the air. "Up to the old gasworks and get lost in the old abandoned industrial archaeology." "Sounds like a plan," nodded Lapinette, "You first." The Wabbit kicked down on the panic bolt and pushed. The alarm went off. Police sirens wailed. They looked at each other and smiled. Then they did what rabbits do best. They ran. They hopped over walls and barriers. They tore across rubble. They swam across a small reservoir until they reached the old gasometer. They looked behind them. There was nobody. "I see a bar," shrugged the Wabbit. 

3. The Wabbit and the Meeters-Greeters

The pair were propelled at great speed to a stairway they knew quite well. This was the ethnographic museum and three figures looked at them in a gloomy fashion. "We are the Meeters-Greeters," said the bearded one. "Greetings to meet you," said another. "Welcome greetables," said another. The Wabbit thought they could look cheerier. Lapinette had a go. "Shall I tell you a joke?" The figures shook with mirth, but their expressions didn't change. "Did you hear about the general election?" The Wabbit was doing his best. "We have seen many," responded Topster. "Too many," said Tipster. "Nothing to laugh," said Tapster. The Wabbit changed the subject. "There's lots of beauty in this museum." "Gives me an art attack," said Topster. "Ha ha," laughed Tipster without smiling. They shuffled round. "There's an exhibition about the history of the wheel," said Tapster. "Quite revolutionary," said Tipster. "What do you call a fossil that turns up late?" said Topster. "Lazy bones," shrugged Tipster. Lapinette had heard quite enough and said so. She gestured behind her. "What's up stairs?" The three figures pointed. "A big step for civilisation," said Topster. Then they laughed and laughed and laughed. 

2. The Wabbit and the Gibble-Goblins

Followed by Lapinette, the Wabbit stepped out of the installation. Light and lines were gone. They were in another museum altogether. "What the Binky?" exclaimed the Wabbit. "This is a movie museum," gasped Lapinette. They hopped along a narrow platform, looking right to left. "Gibble-gobble, Gibble-gobble," said a figure. It looked like a goblin. The Wabbit stopped in his tracks. "Gibble-gobble yourself" The goblin thrust its beak out. "Don't tell Harry." The Wabbit looked at Lapinette. "What on earth is this fellow talking about." Lapinette pouted. "I think that's the wrong movie, Wabbit, ask Skratch the Cat." Like lightning, a multitude of goblins appeared. All gibble-gobbled wildly. The Wabbit put his paws over his ears. "Someone stop them. They're all saying the same thing. It sounds like the general election." Lapinette put her paws on her hips. "What's your policy on lady's toilets and gender?" The goblins were unanimous. "Gibble-gobble, Gibble-gobble!" they cried in unison. "Self-determination?" asked the Wabbit. "Gibble-gibble gabble," said the goblins. "Climate change?" queried Lapinette. "Gribble grobble groo," shouted the goblins. "That seems clear enough," said the Wabbit. "What about free drinks for all the workers?" The goblins all rushed for the door. "We didn't say for you," sighed Lapinette.

1. The Wabbit in the Art Installation

Lapinette had told him not to go in because she knew it would make him dizzy. This, he ignored. He strode into the installation like John Wayne. But he'd only gone a few hops when he was seized with giddiness. "Aargh," he cried. He lurched from the left to the right and back again. He looked up, but that did no good at all. He looked for a point of reference, but none were available. At last he placed a paw on something that seemed stable. He heard Lapinette's voice. "Are you in there, Wabbit?" He tentatively turned. He heard her say, "Are you all right?" He saw Lapinette emerge out of nowhere. "I'm absolutely fine," he said. "Never better." He slowly made his way along the surface. "I'll come and get you," said Lapinette. "No need," said the Wabbit with confidence. He let go of the surface and staggered round in circles for some time. Lapinette watched with amusement. The Wabbit located another surface and sat down. Lapinette hopped boldly forward with no trouble and took up a seat beside him. "I'm not keen on installations," he murmured. "This is by Esther Stocker, from the future," said Lapinette. "Oh really," nodded the Wabbit, "then that's OK." Lapinette put her paws on her hips. "Abandon your ways of seeing and understanding associated with recognition of forms!" The Wabbit stumbled towards the door. "I will - after I have an aperitivo."

[Installation, Esther Stocker. 2004. AR/GE Kunst Galerie Museum Bozen, Bolzano, Italy]

The Wabbit at his Birthday Caffè

The team gathered at an unusual venue. It was the Concert Hall Caffè where the Wabbit was celebrating his birthday. "Happy Birthday Wabbit!" yelled Skratch. He'd only just made it in time. The Wabbit smiled. It was a relief to see him. "How old are you now? asked Lapinette. "A secret never to be revealed," grinned the Wabbit. "You may be old," said Wabsworth," but you don't carrot all." Skratch snickered long and hard. "In the Flatlands we don't show any signs of ageing." They all laughed. "Look over there," said Wabsworth, "Someone's taking a photograph." The Wabbit shrugged. "We won't charge him a copyright fee." They giggled and slapped the Wabbit on the back. "We're forgetting to ask what kind of adventure we just had." Skratch screeched a bit. "AI doesn't know anything about stories, it's not a person." Lapinette stood up. She was anxious to get to her seat early. "There is no self-consciousness there," she said, "It just parrots off what it scraped from the Internet." Wabsworth stood up too. He was in the mood for Beethoven. "Self-consciousness is overrated." Skratch thought for only a second. He was already on his feet anyway. "AI doesn't understand jokes!" A cry went up from the other concert goers. They had been eavesdropping. "Three cheers for the birthday Wabbit and his team, and their jokes," shouted the photographer. The Wabbit turned and gave him a thumbs up. "You're paying for the drinks afterwards!"