The Wabbit mees a Cousin from the Company

The Wabbit landed squarely on all four paws. His eyes narrowed behind his glasses and he tapped a hind leg rhythmically. "Well, well, well. If it isn't my long lost cousin, Montgomery Wabbitte. I haven’t seen your face since that unpleasantness at Rio Escondido.” The Wabbit's voice dripped with sarcasm. Montgomery Wabbitte's paws shook slightly "I'm a changed wabbit. In fact I'm no longer with the Company. I am now ..." Montgomery Wabbite hesitated, " ... a freelance wabbit. I've been helping these wabbits get themselves better living and playing conditions.” The Wabbit's demeanour became formal. “I am obliged to report back on this matter. How shall I mention your involvement?” Montgomery Wabbitte's reply was lightning fast. “Liaison Wabbit! I am liaising with the nearby market traders on vegetable provision.” The Wabbit shook his head and hissed through bared teeth. “Which presumably Montgomery, you do out the goodness of your little wabbit heart?” “ Expenses only, I am a fair wabbit,” smiled Montgomery Wabbitte. The Wabbit’s nose was now a millimetre away from the nose of Montgomery Wabbitte. “See to it. Montgomery. Because ... I’ll be back.” And with that, the Wabbit vanished. And no one saw where he went.

The Wabbit and the wabbits of Turin

After the Wabbit disembarked from the orange bus he found that Via Bardonecchia was a very long Via indeed. He hopped hither and thither from one side of the road to the other but the wabbits were nowhere to be seen. Suddenly he heard a voice calling to him. "They're right down there, Wabbit!" A woman from a pasticceria was pointing to a long fence. And there they were. The Wabbit knew he had reached the correct place, because in a field surrounded by a fence, there were mounds of earth and burrows and many, many wabbits. But they were all looking entirely the wrong way. "Wabbits of Turin!" The Wabbit shouted and yelled until his small lungs were sore."Oh, good grief," thought the Wabbit. "I can take no more. Special ears for me." So he focused and concentrated just on the tips of his ears. There was a whistling sort of a sound and a bit of a lurching and a crunching as the Wabbit rose, scattering dust on the road. He levitated until he was level with the fence. And then without further ado he started to glide back and forth. The wabbits slowly turned and gathered in a semi circle, looking at him critically. The Wabbit distinctly heard one of them say to another. "Just who does he think he is?" That was enough for the Wabbit. He put his paws behind his back, lifted himself upright and he told these wabbits exactly who he was, why he was there and why they should listen properly. Then one of them hopped very slowly towards him ...

The Wabbit establishes his local base ... and Sets Out

The Wabbit opened the shutters and looked out. His temporary Turin headquarters were servicable, central and interesting. He breathed a sigh of relief. There was time to consider his latest instructions. There was a briefing paper, bus tickets, a local map and a small pack of dried carrots, vitamins and pellets. He read the briefing with mounting excitement. He was to proceed to 190 Via Bardonecchia. There he was to assess the achievements of wabbits in the city. He must gather information, address the wabbits and report back. The location was some way off, but he could take an orange bus directly there. “That will save my paws,” thought the Wabbit. But would he find the enterprising wabbits? And what then? What on earth was he to say to the wabbits, when located? The Wabbit thought long and thought hard.” I will explain my mission, gently but firmly.” The Wabbit spoke to himself in a gentle yet firm manner. His bag was now quite full and he pulled it onto his back with a gasp. “Orange bus, orange bus.” The Wabbit reminded himself frequently and repeated his own instructions. Then both gently and firmly, the Wabbit loped to the end of the street and vanished in the direction of Porta Nuova station.

The Wabbit relaxes On Board

The Wabbit had successfully negotiated the perils of the airport and was safely on board the giant winged bus. After a long and rather snuggly nap, he nestled in his seat by the window and looked down on a strange scene. This, the Wabbit knew, was the very place where his secret helpers lived. A group of aristocratic, libertarian wabbits who lived in the Alps had sent the Wabbit a coded message, but he was far too far away to see them. It looked very cold there. “Oh brrrr!” The Wabbit shivered and startled the kindly steward who was offering him a salad sandwich. The Wabbit knew from his map that he was near his destination. “My good woman,” enquired the Wabbit. “Pray, how long before we reach the terminus?” The Wabbit always spoke in a strange fashion when on mission. He just couldn’t help it. “In 30 minutes, Wabbit. Your bag and emergency items have been specially processed. You may pick them up immediately on landing. Please go to Special Lounge W and present your credentials ” The Wabbit settled back and nibbled his salad. “So far, so good,” thought the Wabbit.

The Wabbit looks at his Mission Papers

The Wabbit's papers had duly arrived and now the Wabbit knew where his mission would take him. A special communication device had arrived too and a wabbit-pen for making the most extensive notes. The Wabbit certainly appreciated the personalisation and was growing very fond of his makeover. He looked at the map through his magnifying glass (also provided). The map book was large and the paper rather thick and glossy. So the Wabbit was pleased that he didn't have to eat the whole thing this time. The Wabbit crunched on his carrot and studied the map carefully because he was not that familiar with his destination city. Carrots helped him concentrate as long as they were of good quality and not genetically modified. Crunch, crunch, crunch munched the Wabbit. Think, think, think thought the Wabbit. The only thing that the Wabbit didn't know was the precise nature of the mission itself. This information was to arrive under separate cover. The Wabbit thought it might be something to do with the social exclusion of Wabbits but he was only guessing. The Wabbit was intrigued. He sat up on his hind legs and addressed the room. "My name is Wabbit. The Wabbit. You must take my word for it." The Wabbit smiled that 28 tooth smile of his and polished his emergency lighter.

The Wabbit gets wind of an Important Communication

The Wabbit had become very frustrated waiting for his mission papers. He had taken to following the postman around the neighbourhood, dodging his wheels, his massive bag and his inclination to park on top of the Wabbit. Of course, he could not see the Wabbit so the Wabbit wished him no particular harm. Then the Wabbit saw the bike without the postman, so he hopped up to have long look at his bag. Perhaps there would be mail for the Wabbit peeping out the top. The Wabbit stared and stared. And then he had the most curious sensation. He could see into the sack! The Wabbit thought about it. "It must be my new super-glasses," he thought. The Wabbit levitated with his new ears until he was level with the bag and then he concentrated very hard indeed. Inside the bag was the faint outline of a Manila envelope addressed to the Wabbit and labeled Highly Confidential - Wabbits Only. The Wabbit scrunched up his eyes, but he was at the limit of his vision. Down went the Wabbit, making a faint whoosh as he landed. The Wabbit longed to take the envelope, which after all, was his mail. Then the Wabbit had an ethical fit. "It will arrive in the proper manner and I will open it in the same way," pronounced the Wabbit, grandly. And then he groaned. "Sometimes," muttered the Wabbit, "I'm one boring wabbit, indeed."

The Wabbit gets a Super Makeover

The Wabbit had received preliminary protocols for his mission. And the first of these protocols, was a makeover. The Wabbit sat back on his haunches and inspected the makeover pack. The Committee of Experts had cleverly awarded the assignment to renowned artist, Clari Csuk. "Most impressive," thought the Wabbit. He sat in front of the portrait and chattered his teeth for a whole minute. "Most impressive indeed!" The information that accompanied the makeover pack indicated that Clari's SuperWabbit design incorporated special features. The glasses were to help remove the Wabbit's blind spot (the Wabbit concentrated on the edges of his vision much too much). The tall ears were ultra special state-of-the-art ears. They allowed the Wabbit to levitate slightly and then hover for a bit. The Wabbit did not really know why that was necessary but he did think it would be the most terrific fun! Especially if he met the sinister agents of Rabit. The design also included emergency music and shelter accessories. But the nicest touch, thought the Wabbit, was his slogan, The Mysterious Wabbit is a Wobbly Wabbit. The reason for his nickname was a very long story, which the Wabbit decided to demonstrate. He gave a first try to his ears. shot a full metre in the air, then hovered in a more or less stable fashion. "Woah. Needs practice," thought the Wabbit and landed perfectly on all fours. "I am still the same Wabbit of course," said the Wabbit, adjusting his special glasses carefully and levitating a bit. Then he hopped off in his perfectly usual way

The Wabbit is sent for Analysis

As an assessment prior to his mission, the Wabbit had been sent for analysis. The Wabbit did not mind at all. It was completely normal. Yet he found himself staring down at himself from the ceiling. Although it was almost always like that, it was a most curious feeling. From behind the couch, he could hear a scratchy pen, writing things down, so the Wabbit remained quiet and reflected on his mission. "How do you feel, Wabbit?" The voice from behind the couch was kindly enough. "You're worried about how I feel," replied the Wabbit. The Wabbit couldn't help it. He was a menace in analysis.. The silence grew long and the Wabbit continued to watch himself . The more he was quiet, the more he could hear the scratchy pen, scratching. "Where are you now?" said the voice. "I am looking at myself," said the Wabbit with honesty. "And what do you see?" continued the voice. "I see a Wabbit with a bag," said the Wabbit. "What might the bag contain, I wonder," came the response. At last the Wabbit had something to say. "An emergency coin, a lighter, and a diplomatic pass and ...." The Wabbit's list was very long and the analyst stayed quiet too, for a very long time. Such a long time passed that the Wabbit looked behind him - and the analyst was asleep. The Wabbit couldn't help looking at the scratchy notes. There was a drawing of a wabbit, a shopping list and a single comment. ""My experience of the Wabbit, is that he is well capable, if occasionally annoying." The Wabbit smiled a toothsome smile, slid down from the couch and was gone. And so was his bag.

The Wabbit and the Importance of a Bag

The Wabbit hopped from shop to shop until his little paws hurt and his eyes were as red as the setting sun. Having had little luck in the department store, the bag for his mission seemed to get more important with each hop. The Wabbit had passed two young women in the street and overheard their conversation. It was hard to avoid since they spoke so loudly. "I value my bag more than I value my own life," said one to the other. "Good grief," thought the Wabbit. "This is more important than I thought." But the Wabbit couldn't see anything remotely suitable and he began to despair of finding the vital bag. Then just as he was about to go home he saw a sign on a photographic store called City Cameras. The sign said "Special Bag Reductions for Small Mammals" in big red writing. The Wabbit loped in the store so quickly, he slid right past the bags and onto the feet of the shopkeeper. "Mr Shopkeeper, I need a bag and it's very, very important," panted the Wabbit. "Then it's your lucky day," said the man. "Take a look. We have a Special Offer." And there it was. Exactly the right bag. Right in front of the Wabbit. The Wabbit's heart soared so much he could hardly contain his glee. "That one, that one, that one, I want that one," he panted. And with that very bag on his back, he happily set off home.

The Wabbit goes shopping in the Big Department Store

The Wabbit had gone shopping. He had found he no longer had room under his fur for the many items he would require for his mission. His fur was already bulging in an unsightly fashion that the Wabbit disliked. So the Wabbit had hopped out to find a small rucksack of a suitable size for a wabbit. But the recent message about his adversaries continued to make the Wabbit very alert indeed. So when the Wabbit arrived at the bottom of the escalator, he nearly jumped at the sight of the people with no faces. The Wabbit hopped quickly up to the mirror to see if his face was still the way it was. He peered for a while until he was satisfied that no change had taken place. His wabbit face still stared back at him. The Wabbit stuck his tongue out just to make certain. All was well. "On the other hand, " thought the Wabbit, "a change in style wouldn't hurt." The Wabbit smiled at the thought and went on his way, but he had the most uncomfortable feeling that the faceless faces were somehow watching him. "That's just paranoia," said the Wabbit to himself. And he hopped onwards in search of the Bags for Small Mammals Department.

The Wabbit and the Pizzini

The Wabbit examined the folded up paper intently. He knew what it was and he knew where it came from. The method of communication was well known to the Wabbit. It was a pizzini. Now that made the Wabbit cautious, because only secret people used a folded-up bit of paper to carry a message. Worse still, the recipient was expected to read it, decipher the secret code and then eat the pizzini in its entirety. And the Wabbit just hated the taste of newsprint. The message had come from a group of aristocratic Wabbits that lived in the Dolomite Mountains near the Swiss border. It had heard that the agents of Rabit, a rather sinister and unpleasant organisation, had not lost interest in the Wabbit. The message alerted the Wabbit to Rabit's willingness to frustrate his efforts by any means it could. The message was a Warning. The Wabbit thought for a bit. The source was impeccable. "I shall keep my wits about me," murmured the Wabbit. "I will need to be extra alert." Then just as he thought that thought, a rustling sound startled the Wabbit and he jumped at least a metre in the air. But it was only the paper uncrinkling. "Not that alert," grimaced the Wabbit. And with a single flash of his teeth, he rendered the pizzini into so much confetti. "Yuck" said the Wabbit.

The Wabbit in the Misty Churchyard

It was misty the following morning and the Wabbit hopped out to the churchyard. It was his very favourite place to consider events and make decisions. The Wabbit crouched in the grass and considered his mission. Although he didn't have a detailed description, he was already making many preparations and altering his list accordingly. As he peered through the mist, he made out a figure who appeared to be running. "A jogger." thought the Wabbit and smiled, because wabbits jogged automatically. Wabbit lungs are quite small and so sometimes the Wabbit panted just as much as the joggers in his neighbourhood. "Ms Jogger ..." The Wabbit stopped because sometimes he tried to speak with too many people. Besides, the jogger was already running past at speed. Then just as the jogger was level with the Wabbit she threw a folded up piece of paper with writing on it, right in front of him. The Wabbit noticed it was folded an impossible number of times. It was a secret message! The Wabbit moved forward and carefully nudged it with bis nose. It was importantly important, that he knew. And so the Wabbit tucked it carefully under his fur. "I cannot read this message here. I must repair to a place of safety, " thought the Wabbit. "There, I will read it in comfort." And the Wabbit loped home casually as if nothing had taken place. Nothing whatsoever.

The Wabbit finds the Airport Bus

The Wabbit and his companion, the woman from the bus stop, did not have too far to hop. Just around the corner was the stop the Wabbit would need for his mission journey. "That looks like a most comfortable vehicle. Thank you!" said the Wabbit. "It should save your paws from too long a hop'" said the woman. "Just stay on the bus, until it no further goes. You will be at the place of the great wing-ed buses." The Wabbit sat back on his haunches and reflected for a minute. "Yes, I have been there before so I will know when to get off." The woman smiled. "There is a big new building there that looks like a reptile." Things were always changing, thought the Wabbit. "What kind of a reptile, exactly?" Again the woman smiled. " Not quite an armadillo," she giggled. "I shall be most interested to see it," said the Wabbit. "Perhaps one day there will be a building shaped like a wabbit." Now the woman started laughing and soon the Wabbit joined her. Together they laughed and laughed and laughed until their sides hurt.

The Wabbit seeks Travel Information

Through diplomatic channels, the Wabbit had heard that he would shortly be sent on a mission. As to the exact nature of the mission, the Wabbit did not know. The only thing the Wabbit knew was that it would be far, far away. As the Wabbit was hopping home, he felt it would be useful to assess his transport options. "This looks like a serviceable vehicle," thought the Wabbit. "But is it going in the right direction?" The Wabbit spoke loudly to the passenger leaving the big bus. "To where does the big bus go, my good woman?" The woman looked all around before she eventually looked down. "Hello," she said kindly. "I don't rightly know. I only know it takes me from where I used to be, to where I am now." The Wabbit thanked the woman but he needed more information. "Does it go to the place where the great wing-ed flying buses leave?" The Wabbit wondered whether he had phrased that correctly. "That is a different bus and it leaves from a different place. I will show you if you like," said the woman. And no-one saw them both disappear as they hopped off together.

The Wabbit and the Sitting Duck

Following his interesting discussion with the Cat Upstairs, the Wabbit had been reading Sun Tzu's Strategy for Wabbits. So now he knew he should gather information and know his territory. The Wabbit had thought about it and he had decided this was importantly important for the Wabbit. So the Wabbit hopped a little further than he normally would. The day was damp and the walkers and the shoppers and the tourists were huddling in corners. They were so uncomfortable they never noticed the Wabbit. "Today it's my job to notice things," said the Wabbit, to no-one in particular. At that very moment he spotted the duck. Now the Wabbit knew it was a false duck, but how had it arrived there? Had it floated there from the nearby toy shop? Had it been thrown from a pram by a disgruntled child? The Wabbit decided it was a sign and he made a mental note. "This duck is far from its natural habitat. Unable to cope it has come to a standstill. Now it's a Sitting Duck!" The Wabbit chuckled and looking around to see if anyone had noticed, he addressed the duck. "Hey Duck, you could have been a contender. But now, you're all washed up." The Wabbit smiled grimly and suddenly vanished, leaving only the faint trace of his 28 teeth.