The Wabbit talks to the Rear

The Wabbit had never seen a car like this one. But he was even more astonished when The Car spoke straight out of its rear - and anything that spoke from its rear amused the Wabbit. "There is another like me. You must take delivery of that one for the family of Lapinette," said The Car. The Wabbit's eyebrows shot straight in the air. When this happened, they appeared to be attached to his ears - which he knew looked rather amusing to onlookers. He caught sight of himself reflected in the chrome of the car and could barely suppress a laugh. "You are a most funny Wabbit," he said to himself. "When will this be, Talking Car?" The Wabbit felt he had to ask, otherwise he would be at the mercy of circumstances. The last thing that the Wabbit wanted was to be at the mercy of circumstance, although he felt he was constantly placed in that position. "My name is Turbina," said The Car, and spat some fumes from its rear. "Pleased to meet you," said the Wabbit, coughing a bit. The Wabbit wondered when The Car would get to the point. "Delivery," said The Car, "will be in due course." The Wabbit groaned and waited for the inevitable, which duly arrived. "Wabbit! First you must go ... "

The Wabbit talks to the Talking Jet Car

The voice continued as the Wabbit peered inside The Car. "Are you satisfied with the data display, Wabbit?" "Yes," said the Wabbit. He couldn't help answering The Car. The Car continued. "I was commissioned by the family of Lapinette in 1953. I am a prototype." "Oh really," said the Wabbit. The Wabbit paused for thought. The Wabbit's first thought was that he should have known that Lapinette had something to do with this. But still, the Wabbit didn't know what to say to The Car. When he didn't know what to say he always covered his confusion by asking a lot of questions. So he asked The Car about the purpose of all the instruments and when he had exhausted the topic, he asked about the fuel consumption. "I'd rather not say," said The Car, in a somewhat offhand fashion. "OK," said the Wabbit and he dropped the matter. The Wabbit hopped down and around to the rear of The Car. "This is interesting and different," he stated, in a matter-of-fact fashion that he reserved for interesting and differerent matters of fact.

The Wabbit looks at a Jet Car

The Wabbit reached the exhibit detailed in the instructions, given to him by Sergio. "Oooh, said the Wabbit. The Wabbit always said "Oooh" when he was at a loss for words. So he said it again . "Oooh! " Then he paused for more thoughts. "This is a most serviceable vehicle!" The Wabbit hopped all around the car and then he hopped back again. He hopped underneath and looked at everything he could look at. He hopped to the front and he hopped to the back. "This would save my paws all right," he thought to himself. The he hopped around once more for good measure. "When would you like to to take delivery, Mr Wabbit?" The Wabbit was sure he had heard a voice from somewhere. He was fairly certain it was not a talking car, although it looked like it could do most things. The Wabbit looked all round for the source of the voice. He decided he wasn't going to reply to the voice unless he knew where it came from. "Up here, Mr Wabbit!" The voice seemed to be coming from inside the car. So using his special ears, the Wabbit hopped up and hovered. And then he peered through the window ...

The Wabbit gets a Day at the Museum

It wasn't far to hop to the Museum of Automobiles. The Wabbit had hoped that Sergio might give him a lift and save his paws, but Sergio just couldn't stop working. Probably he was in a helichopper at this very moment, thought the Wabbit. But Sergio's directions were extremely precise and the Wabbit had tucked them safely in his bag. "What an imposing building," thought the Wabbit and he wondered if it could be any bluer. But after a good look he knew was wabbit friendly. The Wabbit hopped on the wall and paused for thought. He basked in the sun for a bit and wondered what it it would be liked if he never paused for thought. He thought that would be very boring indeed. So he lay along the wall and stretched all his paws out. Then he took Sergio's notes from his bag and he read them most thoroughly. He was to proceed through the front door of the museum and go upstairs to see a particular exhibit. At that stage he would receive further instructions. The Wabbit asked himself if there was ever an end to further instructions. Then the Wabbit answered himself that there wasn't. Then the Wabbit asked himself if he would like it if there were no further instructions. And again he answered himself that then he would then have to make up his own instructions. By the end of the conversation the Wabbit was tired. So he hauled himself up and hopped off the wall and made his way around the blue building.

The Wabbit gets the offer of New Brakes

The Wabbit did not have time to worry about how to stop. As he reached the bottom of the ramp, the plush executive had somehow got to the bottom before him. With a single bound, he leaped over the wall and stuck his foot out, right in front of the Wabbit. "Woah," said the Wabbit as he flipped high in the air. He seemed to be heading straight down when all at once he found himself safely in the arms of the executive. "You need to work on stopping, Wabbit," said the executive. "Maybe I do at that," gasped the Wabbit. The executive held on to the Wabbit who was puffing and panting. "My name is Sergio, Wabbit. Why do you call me the plush executive?" "Because of your fur," said the Wabbit, taking the opportunity to snuggle a bit in Sergio's jumper. Sergio set the Wabbit down on all four paws. "That was good, very good. I think we can use that. Where did you learn how to cartwheel?" "At my father's knee, or some other low joint," quipped the Wabbit who had recovered enough to make a bad joke. Sergio groaned long and loud. "I think I can help you with brakes, Wabbit. But first I need you to take a look at something." The Wabbit sat on his hind legs and smiled his wabbit smile. He liked the idea of brakes very much indeed. On the other hand he felt quite exhausted. "Is it far?" asked the Wabbit.

The Wabbit Takes Off

The plush executive planned to watch the Wabbit start but before he knew what had happened the Wabbit had disappeared. Without warning, the Wabbit sprang straight into a sprint. Then he swung around and dabbed his right rear leg against the wall, levering his whole wabbit body into the cartwheel position. By this time, the Wabbit was just a blur as he vanished round the first corner. With all of his 28 teeth bared, the Wabbit emitted a low growl as he cartwheeled round bend after bend, shaving off time as the ramp spiralled down. He also shaved off a substantial quantity of fur against the wall as he took sharp bends at an increasing rate. Hosts of brown-coated technicians with clip boards and stop watches swivelled their heads as the Wabbit cartwheeled past at astonishing speed. The Wabbit's knew that his cartwheel was for the most part instinctive. But the new ears had given his instinct an edge. The Wabbit was going faster and with more accuracy than ever before. But as the Wabbit spiralled down, he remembered something that he had pushed to the back of his mind. At some stage he was going to have to stop ...

The Wabbit gets a proposal he can't Refuse

"Ooooh," thought the Wabbit. "This could have been designed for the Wabbit." The plush executive spoke. "I think this could have been designed for you, Wabbit. This is the ramp to my racetrack on the roof." The Wabbit pretended he saw one of these every day and shifted his paws in a distracted manner. The plush executive explained to the Wabbit that he would be overjoyed if the Wabbit demonstrated his cartwheeling prowess from the top of the ramp to the very bottom. Of course, the Wabbit wanted nothing more than to race down at top speed. Yet clearly he was supposed to negotiate with the plush executive. The Wabbit decided to ask some technical questions, which he made up on the spot. He asked about height, breadth, length, curvature, velocity, surface temperature, torque, stresses and strains and anything else he considered vaguely relevant. When his questions were answered he nodded slightly, tapped his rear legs three times and hopped silently to the top of the ramp. Then he turned to the plush executive. "I want a complete report on all technical measurements. Nothing shall be omitted." The plush executive signalled his assent. "Watch me go." said the Wabbit.

The Wabbit gets a Special Invitation

Still examining the address on his papers, the Wabbit emerged from the lift and straight into a plush executive suite, with a plush executive man inside. The Wabbit hopped across the floor, scattering a large number of jazz CDs and some bits of car engine. "Whoops, there you go Mr Brubeck, Charlie Mingus pardon me, sorry for the paws, Billie," said the Wabbit flippantly. The Wabbit should have been taken aback but he somehow knew this would happen. He knew it in his fur. The imposing gentleman was fluent in many languages and spoke wabbit quite effectively. With a series of honks and oiks and some gentle purring, the executive asked the Wabbit to contribute to a special automobile development programme. "In what special and particular manner can I help you, imposing gentleman?" The Wabbit thought it best to be courteous. He was told that the new programme required importantly important knowledge that only the Wabbit could contribute. The Wabbit's cartwheel had been noticed and recorded but no-one could quite work out how he did it. Just for an instant the Wabbit was uncomfortable, because he didn't know either. The Wabbit decided to omit this vital piece of information, because his curiosity had got the better of him. "Perhaps you could demonstrate it," said the plush executive. "I need to be in the mood," replied the Wabbit cautiously. The executive opened a hidden door. "Please hop this way," he said firmly. "Perhaps this will interest you, Wabbit."

The Wabbit speeds along on the Metro

The Wabbit liked to be at the front. He knew that without doubt he was a bit of a speed freak - and even if the sign said the front seat was for children, it said nothing about wabbits. Stations came and stations went but the tunnel itself was special. After all, the Wabbit thought, tunnels were built for wabbits. It occurred to the Wabbit that it would be real cool if he could race through the tunnel at top speed on his own. Sometimes the Wabbit thought in a rather hippy manner that he could not quite discard, no matter how hard he tried. In any case, the Wabbit was headed for the end of the line and at that stage he was to go a special place for further instructions. Lapinette had been mysterious about her plan but the Wabbit knew it was something to do with transport. It always was. So the Wabbit relaxed. Usually if he followed his nose, there would be a good outcome. Therefore he would be laid back. The Wabbit heard himself thinking these thoughts and he knew in his heart that he wouldn't even like being "laid back". So he pulled his legs up under him and laid back and smiled. The train whooshed along and before the Wabbit had become comfortable, it pulled into the terminus and announced that it had. "Everything speaks these days," murmured the Wabbit.

The Wabbit leaves in a Lightning Storm

The Wabbit spent all day in the hospital ward talking with Lapinette and he planned to leave at nightfall. Lapinette had a plan and the Wabbit was integral. But no sooner had the Wabbit hopped out the entrance to the big hospital than a wind sprang up. It was a strange, mild wind that ruffled his fur and bent back his ears and was vaguely disturbing. Then there was mighty flash and a loud boom. Heavy rain poured down in torrents and made rivers out of the gutters. "Oh no," thought the Wabbit and his hop quickly changed to a lope, then a sprint. The Wabbit zigzagged amongst the puddles as the rain crashed down relentlessly. Lightning flashes made crazy shadows out of his ears and projected them onto the sides of tall buildings. He streaked down thoroughfares and across market places while shop windows shook and car alarms shrieked. The Wabbit ran so fast that his paws left a dry strip on the road. But the Wabbit knew where he was going and there it was - the unmistakable "M" sign of the Metro. He disappeared down a set of stairs and all of a sudden he was in a brightly-lit and very dry space. "Phew," thought the Wabbit. "Where's my emergency coin?"

The Wabbit gets a Surprise

The Wabbit skidded around the door and screeched to a halt in a manner that was very un-hospital like, especially for early in the morning. He had heard a voice that he knew well. His fur prickled all over and his ears stood bolt upright like a Belgian wabbit. It was the sweet voice of Lovely Lapinette, his beloved. “Hello Wabbit” The Wabbit gazed up from the bottom of the bed and Lapinette’s face appeared over her notes. “What took you so long?” said Lapinette. The Wabbit was aghast. “Train, bus, plane, helichopper!” The Wabbit blustered and gasped and puffed and panted. He hopped up onto the bed against all hospital instructions, dropped all the supplies on the bed in an untidy heap and butted Lapinette's nose in a loving but over-forceful fashion. “What are you doing here? No one tells the Wabbit anything!” "I'm sorry It's all a bit of an enigma," said Lapinette. The Wabbit did not like enigmas. "There was some misunderstanding," continued Lapinette. The Wabbit was quite well acquainted with misunderstandings since his own could be quite oceanic in scale. He sat back and watched Lapinette wrinkle her cute nose. "All will become clear," she said mysteriously. The Wabbit somehow doubted that and concentrated instead on Lapinette's ears which he found quite enticing ...

The Wabbit and the Surgical Vending Machine

The Wabbbit rounded the corner with a turn of speed and there it was. The Wabbit knew - because there was a picture of it in his papers. He had never seen a surgical vending machine before and he stood to the side in case it spoke to him. There seem to be no end to the number of things that spoke to the Wabbit. He took some extra time to look at his extra special list which was entitled "Medical consumables" and read it out loud to himself . "Gauze bandage, surgical dressing, white, tasteless, soft, strong absorbency, ventilated well." The Wabbit looked up. It was rather specific but there it was at number B7. Suddenly a robotic voice spoke. "Please make your selection. Place your coins in the slot and wait patiently. Your surgical dressings will arrive in due course in the space below." "Maybe they will," thought the Wabbit. Engaging his special ears, he hovered and deftly flicked the requisite number of coins into the slot. Before he had reached the floor, there was a rickety rumbling and a dull thud as a package arrived in a glass screened cabinet. "Mind your paws," said another voice. The Wabbit turned to find himself addressed by a white-uniformed medic. "He can be well tricky that one." The Wabbit carefully prised the package from the space and crept silently backwards, one paw at a time, until he was out of sight.

The Wabbit proceeds from the Landing Pad

The Wabbit emerged from the door of the helichopper. His legs were shaking and his 28 teeth were chattering so much that he could barely hear his pilot, Franco Contadino. “Don’t forget the importantly important package. Sir! Gotta go, sir. Incoming injured, sir.” The Wabbit turned, chattering and muttering through his teeth. “I think I might be the incoming injured, Franco.” He looked at the package. There was always another package and this time he had to tuck it under his fur. It was bigger than usual and it stuck out. “It’s about time they thought about my fur,” grumbled the Wabbit. The Wabbit scanned his papers and hopped towards the hospital building. Inside, he scrambled amongst the feet of doctors and nurses and dodged the wheelchairs of patients who’s limbs stuck out at peculiar angles. “At least only my package sticks out,” thought the Wabbit, feeling a little sorry for his fellow mammals. He kept to the ground floor where he was to pick something up. “It’s always the same story,” thought the Wabbit. “Go here, go there, pick this up, deliver it wherever.” But secretly, the Wabbit enjoyed all these things he complained about and his mood quickly changed. So as he hopped to the supply room, as instructed, he found himself humming a ditty that he had made up himself. “I’m bringing news from nowhere, together with other stuff. I got rather fancy ears and a heart full of love.” The Wabbit was so delighted with his silliness that he nearly missed the supply room door.

The Wabbit experiences Turbulence

The Wabbit was always saying he couldn't be surprised. "I have seen it all," he would say prissily. "And I am seldom if ever impressed." This was quite untrue as the Wabbit well knew. The Wabbit had been whisked away again and this time he was astonished. In any case, he was getting tired of being whisked at short notice. His teeth chattered and his bones vibrated as he looked out and down at a city he vaguely recognised. "This helichopper business is all very well," shouted the Wabbit to himself. As usual, the Wabbit's military slang was hopeless. "If that's Turin, I could have come here on the Big Red Train." The Wabbit was screaming now as he felt his already sensitive stomach drop, then lift again, then drop. What hadn't been a surprise was for the Wabbit to see Franco Contadino at the controls of the helichopper. The Wabbit shouted at the top of his voice. "Franco! Less vibration. This feels like a rusty egg beater." "Sir! It's the turbulence, Sir! Never had a flight round here without turbulence." The Wabbit saw the landing pad loom rapidly into sight and as he poked Franco with his paw, he could barely hear his pilot's voice. "Brace for impact Sir! I mean prepare for landing, Sir!" The Wabbit covered both eyes with both paws and fell silent.

The Wabbit in Transit

The Wabbit had disembarked from the plane feeling rather floaty. The aircraft had flown round and round in circles, whilst the Wabbit was plied with salad sandwiches and copious quantities of carrot juice. He had been surprised when he found he was the only passenger on the plane but he had used the opportunity to hop up and down the aisle and look in all corners. Then he looked at all the literature behind the nets on the back of the seats. When the novelty wore off he snoozed and slumbered until eventually the plane landed with a bump and came to a standstill. At his temporary destination, the arrivals board indicated that the Wabbit had been delayed. Yet the Wabbit knew there had been no delay whatsoever. In any case, no-one was likely to meet him, because he had been told to go immediately without hesitation to the Transfer Lounge and await instructions. He hoped there would be no more hospitality there and when he hoped that hope, his Wabbit stomach began to revolve, then churn. The Wabbit could only take so much uncertainty. He made his way to the Transfer Lounge with a grumbling, noisy tummy and as the Wabbit hopped, his fellow passengers turned around to locate the source of the weird sounds.