The Wabbit and the Dry Gents Cut

The Wabbit hated the rain. It made his fur clumpy and the back of his ears itch. For that reason he crouched in a doorway to watch the passing thwong. The Wabbit knew that no-one ever saw the Wabbit - but occasionally it was hard to believe. Because no matter where he crouched, someone would step on his paws. "It's because no-one can see you", said one of his friends. But the Wabbit knew there was more to it than that. Sometimes as an experiment he would position himself in a small out of the way corner, then brace himself for the stampede to that exact place. But he knew he was safe just behind the barber's advertisement. No gent wanted a dry cut on a wet day. The Wabbit shook with mirth as he chortled to himself (through his teeth).

The Wabbit and the Tactile Ground Surface Indicators

The Wabbit was mostly at street level, so he saw a lot of stuff that other people didn't. And of course, no-one ever saw the Wabbit. He had still to make his list but the job kept getting delayed. He was looking everywhere for inspiration, but inspiration came there none. Of course, the Wabbit did not like the way things were organised. He considered them wabbit unfriendly. As he looked along the street he thought of his Chinese friend, Sun, who would most certainly advise that there is no reality. Everything is "nothing" and so it was no use worrying about it. The Wabbit had a little difficulty with this although he found it soothing. But he knew for sure that this road surface always hurt his paws. Tactile domes indeed, thought the Wabbit - and he just about caught his hind leg in a twitch.

The Wabbit experiences a deep-seated Deflation

Hardly had the Wabbit renewed his acquaintance with his neighbourhood, than he felt a deep-seated dissatisfaction. What had happened? The Wabbit knew that on this door was a sign of a party, which clearly he had missed. He hadn't been invited anyway. But the balloons had deflated and they looked down and dimpled. Perhaps, thought the Wabbit, that was the way things were around here. Down and dimpled. The Wabbit had much to do and he hadn't even started on that list he had promised to make. His rear left leg started tapping in an agitated manner. The Wabbit needed inspiration.

The Wabbit and the Black Plastic Sacks

The Wabbit had definitely returned to the city. The season seemed to have changed since he was away and now there were leaves and leaf blowers and sacks of vegetation. The Wabbit did not like plastic sacks. Once, someone had thrown a sack over the Wabbit - possibly in error since no one ever saw the Wabbit. It had been rather unpleasant although it was easy to chew through a sack. The Wabbit supposed that people in the city needed to do these things to keep themselves amused. But the Wabbit found it hard to understand because he was in essence quite a serious Wabbit. "Hmmm ..." thought the Wabbit. "Black sack cwossed my path!"

The Wabbit on the Voyage Home

The Wabbit's vacation was nearly over. He looked out to sea as his ferry approached the dock. It would be an easy matter to hop onto the car deck and then he would make for the private lounge. No one ever saw the Wabbit. Which was just as well, because he could chew through a prodigious amount of stuff on a ferry. But he would be on his best behaviour, thought the Wabbit. There was much to do when he got home. In the ferry he would find a nice quiet corner and make a list. And no doubt there would be salad sandwiches to keep him going. The Wabbit wiggled his nose as the loudspeakers called for passengers to board. He hopped his way to the embarcation point and as he did so he hummed "I'm a pass-enger, I'm a pass-enger", chortling to himself through his teeth.

The Wabbit pays a visit to a Distant Relation

The Wabbit's vacation was nearly at end. But he had one more thing to do, having promised a distant relation that he would visit him. His name was Chief Wabbit of Galloway. The Wabbit had often pointed out to his relation that this was a title and not a proper name. The Chief Wabbit of Galloway had replied that by this time he had forgotten what his real name actually was. "And anyway", said the Chief Wabbit "What about you?" Realising the Chief had a point, the Wabbit no longer felt like mentioning it. Chief Wabbit lived in a splendid spot, so remote that not many knew it was there. The Wabbit felt that Chief Wabbit was a little reclusive for a wabbit. But he loved the lighthouse and frolicked around in the full knowledge that he would not be disturbed. It was certainly good to have distant relations, thought the Wabbit.

The Wabbit and the Great Wabbit Gathering Place

Now the Wabbit was not one for compromising his vacation with work. But when he stepped outside the cafe, he knew this was the place for the Great Gathering. And as he looked at the empty scene, in his mind it suddenly filled with wabbits. Rank upon serried rank of wabbits came streaming down the hill to the fence until no grass could be seen. And he saw himself, the Wabbit, flanked on either side by a bwigade of marsh wabbits, addressing the vast gathering. It was indeed a mighty sight. Then gradually, the scene faded and there were only fields again. Yes, thought the Wabbit. This should be the place. But the Wabbit knew it didn't matter who addressed the wabbits really. as long as the Wabbits gathered and were as one.

The Wabbit and the Flying Food

The Wabbit's holiday was destined to be interesting. Breakfast for the Wabbit usually consisted of hay, but he was on vacation. In a small tearoom in an isolated and beautiful spot, he stopped for breakfast. The Wabbit nestled behind a menu on a table and smelled the strange and exotic smells. "A change is a good as a rest", he said to himself. It was not often that the Wabbit was surprised but when he saw the flying food he was amazed. So this is how they do it round here! And then the Wabbit imagined flying hay, flying carrots and flying salad sandwiches. Just wait 'til I tell my friends, thought the Wabbit and wiggled his nose.

The Wabbit takes the Ferry

The Wabbit was so relaxed that he nearly missed his connection. But now, after a nice meal and having taken due care with his diet, the Wabbit was on board. He felt a mild desire to binky as he nestled in a discreet corner of the saloon bar on the last ferry of the evening. But he thought the better of it, because it was important that no-one ever saw the Wabbit come or go. Even Mr Brogan had told him "I never saw you!", after he had given him a lift. The Wabbit was certainly enjoying his vacation and he loved to ferry hop. He didn't mind the water, having taken lessons from Uncle Bill the marsh wabbit, who was an expert on marine matters. The Wabbit settled back for a snooze. There was lots to see tomorrow.

The Wabbit studies the Menu

The Wabbit was a little hungry after a long ride. But he wasn't expecting this. He was spoiled for choice. But the thought of checking the menu spelling seemed a bit daunting. And there was so much here that a Wabbit should probably not eat. But then again, the Wabbit was on holiday. Suddenly the Wabbit noticed, in the far corner of the menu, a mention of seaweed. Even though it was very high in salt, which he had heard Gwanny Wabbit say would harden the arteries, the Wabbit knew it was nice. European wabbits from his neck of the woods had been known to survive a hard winter eating some seaweed. Seafood for me thought the Wabbit. With a nice salad. Now the Wabbit felt he was really on vacation.

The Wabbit takes a Vacation

Once his mind was made up it never took the Wabbit long to take a course of action. In a matter of 24 hours, the Wabbit had ferry-hopped his way towards his ancestral home. It was kind of Mr Brogan to take the Wabbit so far in his truck, but he was going his way after all. So disguised as a travelling rug, the Wabbit had perched on the cover of the engine, which was rather toasty. "Ah the Hills of Home", thought the Wabbit. Perhaps he would be in time for the Gweat Wabbit Homecoming. He hopped down from the truck and surveyed the scene. Something in his wabbit memory stirred."This is a place of good food", the Wabbit mused. The Wabbit's tummy rumbled a little. "I may just stop at yonder inn."

The Wabbit confronts the City

The Wabbit had ventured into the city centre. He didn't live that far from the centre and he hopped that way when he was at a loss for what do do. But the Wabbit had seldom seen the city look so shabby. His small paws stuck to the chewing gum on the street and he was rather offended by how dirty it was. Not that he was a snooty wabbit. But he had standards for living and playing conditions. What was going on? The Wabbit looked at the decaying paint and wondered whether it was the recession that everyone was talking about. And of course it reminded him of the Shadow People who were thrown out of Castle Doom. The Wabbit sat on a step and pondered. "Maybe ... " thought the Wabbit, "... I need a vacation".

The Wabbit does a Good Deed

The Wabbit kept searching the toy shop. Surely there must be a wabbit, he thought. And then he saw ... oh, no! A Wabbit that looked just like him. A bit paler, in poor condition and a little forlorn - but a fellow wabbit nevertheless. And just one. "Fellow wabbit!" said the Wabbit. "What has happened? What kind of living and playing conditions do you find yourself in?" The other wabbit just shook slightly and trembled a bit. "I see you are in no condition to liberate yourself, fellow wabbit. I will take you to a place of safety." announced the Wabbit And in so saying, the Wabbit nudged the poor wabbit off the table and together they hopped safely to the door. And of this, no one, not one single person saw a thing.

The Wabbit encounters Social Exclusion

The Wabbit was horrified to see small mammals in these conditions. Even if they were mere representations of small mammals. The Wabbit had been informed that there were no wabbits in the Big Toy Shop and he had decided to investigate. His informant had been correct and there was not a single wabbit to be seen. Other creatures of all sorts were piled high or had been placed in sinister rows like the teddy bears. The Wabbit hunted high and low but found nothing. How would children be correctly informed if there were no available wabbits? Wabbits were being socially excluded, right here in his own town.

The Wabbit amongst the Replicants

The Wabbit thought it strange that in the Big Mall, a wabbit had to go up just to go back down again. But that was the way it was. Nor did he trust the moving stairs. He travelled on the handrail just out of sight, because the Wabbit's feet were relatively small and he thought he might be dragged into the machinery. If that happened he would be turned into a replicant. The Wabbit knew that was only a theory, but until it was disproved, he would stick with it. He could see his destination far away at the end of the shopping tunnel. Soon he would be able to attend to the important wabbit matter.