The Wabbit's Famous Adventure Caffè

It was one of these days when the weather didn't know what to make of itself. The sky was gloomy yet bright. Maybe it might rain. No-one sat at the chosen caffè. People had made their minds up and the Wabbit shrugged. "Tell me. Skratch. What was that for a sort of adventure?" Skratch felt squeezed at the back. He pushed his way in. "It defies indexality," he said. "That's mysterious," Skratch," said Lapinette. She leapt in the air, as only Lapinette could. Skratch smiled. "Para indexality." Wabsworth knew what Skratch was talking about. His memory banks held all manner of esoteric stuff. "The image is not a clear index to something that is visually given. It is merely the Derridean trace of the object. It is para indexical." The Wabbit snorted. "I find that a bit antiseptic." Lapinette did another binky. "Now were talking medical indexality. I thought our story was perfectly normal. A horror-medical." He paused. "Why are we all standing here when we could be looking for a decent caffè?" Lapinette whirled. "There are no decent caffès on this drag, we need to hop a couple of blocks." She whirled again then stood still. "We can maximise its interfaciality, in reference to other blocks?" meaowed Skratch. "On their plane of immanence? I doubt it," stated Wabsworth. The Wabbit looked around and couldn't see any signs of an immanent drink. "I know a good caffè just off Via Po," he shrugged. Lapinette pirouetted once more. "So what are we waiting for?" 

8. The Wabbit and Wabphage Attack

The Wabbit emerged through a door in front of the Doppelganger's lab. He wore one his annoying smiles. Designed to distract, it had served him well in the past. He knew it would work now. Unseen, Wabsworth crept round the back bearing the payload. "Greetings Doppelganger," said the Wabbit. The Doppelganger was rattled. He snapped, "Call me by my proper name!" The Wabbit smiled a sardonic grin. "Which is?" All the beakers in the lab shook. "Commander Wabbit! I am the real one," yelled the Doppelganger. He frothed at the mouth but his paws held on to the index bag of blood. Wabsworth crept into position. With a hypodermic, he drew the manufactured bacteria from the flask and hopped forward. He could hear the Wabbit taunting the Doppelganger - so he sensed his chance. He hopped forward and plunged the needle into the bag. He had the element of surprise. With time left, he withdrew more fluid and jabbed the doppelganger. The Wabphage ingredients worked almost immediately. The blood in the bag modified as it began to consume itself. Then the Doppelganger's DNA warped - and the reaction was fast. His body convulsed in pain. He grabbed at tubes. His skin changed colour as he crumpled. Pale faced, he lay gasping on the floor. With his last breath he cursed the Wabbit. "This is not the end. I'll be back!" 

Background elements:  Pixabay; Blood Bags Flask

7. Lapinette and the Blood Spatter

Lapinette was keeping a close eye on the Doppelganger. He was messy as usual and spattered a lot of blood on the workshop window. He sang the while. "Bloody blood, so much bloody blood." Nevertheless, his work looked like it would succeed. He was singing a song about blood. Lapinette's ears pricked up as she paid attention. "Platelets, redlets, whitelets, clotlets. Round and round they're on a spree. Soon we'll have an army, an army an army. Soon we'll have an army, one two three." He gathered up a blood bag and rocked it like a baby. "He's singing to it," gasped Lapinette, "He's mad as a bag of bees." Lapinette felt a buzz in the air. It got louder and louder. It reached a crescendo then died. She inched backwards and out of sight. "Hurry up Wabbit," she shouted. "It's all happening." The building shook. Blood seemed to seep from the walls. Wabsworth and the Wabbit snuck round the back. Wooden beams fell. They held on because everything was shaking. Lights flickered. The metallic smell of blood grew more intense. They could hear the doppelganger singing. It was faintly out of tune and seemed to come and go. Lapinette heard the Wabbit and Wabsworth muttering. Then the Wabbit shouted, "Now!"

[Background and blood graphics at Pixabay]

6. Wabsworth and the Emergency Vehicle

Wabsworth loaded the supply of bio-engineered blood into a vehicle he'd borrowed from the pool at short notice. Then he'd scribbled a note and jumped in. The Wabbit had specified a silent approach so he didn't use the sirens. But he switched on the blue lights and piled through the city like a cheetah on steroids. People scattered. An entire troop of scouts jumped for safety and a jeep full of soldiers took fright and ran. The road to Eur was usually busy but it cleared as he put his foot down. He took a corner on two wheels then turned into the bunker and dropped down the stairs. Strictly speaking, the stairway didn't have the width for a vehicle that size, but Wabsworth squeezed along the concrete canyon and screeched to a halt outside a fortified barrier. The Wabbit's head popped out. "I know I said silent, Wabsworth, but I meant discreet! Anyway, let's have it." Wabsworth held up a canister. "Best I can do at short notice, Commander." The Wabbit looked impressed. Lapinette emerged and she looked impressed too. "The doppelganger is in there with his fakery," she said. "Are we ready to go?" Wabsworth opened his door and jumped down. "I need to get my kit out the back." The back was full of medical paraphernalia. Wabsworth emerged with flasks and tubes and wearing a grim face. "What do you call a scientist who expresses a non self antigen?" No-one said anything. They just shook their heads. "Humoraly Immune!"

5. Wabsworth and the Bacteria Simulation

Wabsworth got to work immediately. He'd learned all there was to know from various medical sites on the web - as far as he could determine. And just for fun he popped inside the simulation to make the last adjustments. Bacteria swam around his head like giant creatures from the deep and he watched them. "The motor, the hook and the filament," mused Wabsworth. He smiled and tinkered a bit with his representational tools, one of which was a Swiss army knife. He planned to introduce a retrovirus which, when activated, would not only destroy the virus populations of the doppelganger's blood - but move to destroy itself. Wabsworth knew he was on the edge of legality. The Department had outlawed such procedures in case of a spread to all rabbits - and eventually all populations would suffer. He grinned. There was no-one quite like an android to do this work. He felt like Frankenstein's monster. He sang. "Blasticidin, Puromycin, Gentamicin, Zeocin, Let's call the whole thing off!" He pondered upon the introduction of de-mortalisation, then decided against. "Can't have that," he murmured. He scattered a few knockout cells to be on the safe side. "Can't risk creating an uncontrollable monster," he said aloud. He decided he was finished. It was time to transport the completed bacteria to its host. He thought about the Wabbit and his gene pool. "I hope I have his divided attention." He flicked a mental switch and then he was staring at his computer. He chuckled. "I need to speak to Human Resources."

[Background image: bacteria at Pixabay]

4. The Wabbit and the Peep Hole

Lapinette squinted through a peephole then rapidly withdrew her eye. "I told you so." The Wabbit gave the shattered glass a sideways glance. "It looks like a blood bank." The Wabbit's doppelganger was busy hanging up pouches and although he seemed to look up, they knew he couldn't see anything. "Now do you believe me?" The Wabbit had never disbelieved Lapinette. He knew far better than that. They watched the Wabbit's doppelganger connect new tubes. Blood gurgled through. A blood red forest of tubes swayed as he moved. "What's his game?" murmured the Wabbit. Lapinette watched some more. "I think he wants to set in motion an army of fake Wabbits, which will obey his every command." The Wabbit nodded. "To do what?" Lapinette looked pensive. "To discredit you and the Department?" The Wabbit laughed. "That won't be hard." There was a crash from the other room as the Doppelganger brought in a fresh tank of blood and manoeuvred it into position. Some spilled. A metallic scent hung in the air. "He's not very efficient," observed the Wabbit. "what do we do now?" Lapinette was quick to respond. "I think Wabsworth might know." The Wabbit fished in his fur for his radio and pressed a button. "He's on his way." "Stealth approach," advised Lapinette. "He's an android, so I taught him to socially distance," quipped the Wabbit.

3. The Wabbit and the Duplicitous Double

Unbeknown to each other, both the Wabbit and Lapinette were on the trail of the doppelganger. It was at the old abandoned bunker their paths crossed, and they could see the doppelganger at some kind of devilish work. "Which Wabbit are you?" whispered Lapinette. She tapped the Wabbit on the shoulder. "I'm me, of course," groaned the Wabbit. "But how do I know?" asked Lapinette. "I was sizing this place up for a new shed," answered the Wabbit. "Working with who?" said Lapinette in a hushed voice. "Wabsworth!" scowled the Wabbit. "OK," agreed Lapinette. She nodded and smiled. They both watched the intruder. "What's he doing?" They continued to watch. "He's messing with the electrics." said the Wabbit. "With blood?" exclaimed Lapinette. "Spooky," groaned the Wabbit." "Maybe he's trying to generate plasma," suggested Lapinette. "To become the real me?" The Wabbit felt seedy. "He could try," said Lapinette, "did you miss any blood recently?" The Wabbit thought. Cold from the unheated bunker settled around his shoulders and spooked him even more. "I gave blood to the Department. For Overseas Development." They both considered the matter. "It was on its way to the State of Wabbitania. Maybe it was hijacked and stored here." Lapinette was thoughtful. "This bunker was never ever used," she said. "And no-one comes here," added the Wabbit. "Perfect," nodded Lapinette. "That was exactly in my vein of thinking." 

2. Lapinette and the Walrus Spoke

Lapinette had gone to Natural History Museum to help. But when she got there, they wouldn't let her in. "We're closed," they said. "Go away." Lapinette as furious at such rudeness. "I’ve been sent by the Department," said Lapinette. "Don't care!" came the reply. "Then you're fired." Lapinette's tone was unmistakeable. She turned and looked over her shoulder at the retreating figures. "Don't care was made to care," she added and went on her way. Everything was a shambles. Nothing was in order, jumbled together like an old junk shop. "It's like the eighteenth century here," murmured Lapinette. "You're telling me," said a voice. It came from a big toothed walrus and he seemed upset. "They just collected me and shoved me in a room without regard to genus or even species." He looked around at various birds and antelopes. "See what I mean." Lapinette was upset too. "No wonder the Department sent me. I have to clean up." The walrus shrugged. "It will take you hundreds of years." Lapinette sighed and sat down. That was when she spotted what looked like a familiar figure. But he didn't look quite normal. "Wabbit?" The Walrus shook his head. "He's not real, he's a doppelganger." Lapinette slapped a paw to her forehead. "Don't attract his attention," said the walrus, " He's supposed to bring bad luck." Lapinette felt in her frock for her automatic. "I've met him before." The walrus was horrified. "I weep for you, I deeply sympathise ...."

1. The Wabbit and the Stairway Copy

The Wabbit climbed the stairs with caution. They looked moody and dangerous. "These stairs have more than a touch of menace," he thought. He was in a museum dedicated to the development of coins, a subject in which he had more than a passing interest. His Dinosaur Fund regularly made purchases of coins and sold them on to discerning buyers. Some of the coins were stashed in a secret location known only to the Wabbit, to be brought out on special occasions. This was one of these places. It was out on the edge of town and surrounded by so many roads that only a few people knew how to get there. His paws were rather sore from polishing coins. His head ached from looking at small writing. So he clumped the stairs and grumbled at each step. On this occasion he felt he was being followed by a shadowy figure. He glanced behind him, but every time he looked there was nothing there. Just once he caught a flash in the corner of his eye. A glimpse of blue glasses. He turned to face downstairs. then quickly turned back. This time he caught sight of a figure that looked just like him. It whispered. "We meet again Commander." Then it vanished. The Wabbit shrugged. "We do, so we do." He continued up the stairs and thought about the last time this happened. "I left you on the rail track in Veneto," he said to himself. He thought he'd seen the last of him. "Looks like double trouble," he murmured.  

The Wabbit at his Adventure Caffè.

The team was in the process of assembling at a Caffè in Via Gregorio VII. It was a bright day and the sun carved harsh patterns in the sidewalk. Lapinette came flying out the Caffè door. "I just ordered Proseccos all round!" The Wabbit scraped his chair with a lot of noise. "Good!" he replied. "Are you upset?" asked Lapinette. "I didn't know you were inside, we may have ordered twice." Lapinette giggled. "We'd just have to drink twice as quickly." The Wabbit brightened immediately. Skratch came into sight. "Hello everyone. "What was that for a sort of adventure?" Wabsworth appeared at the side and threw in his opinion. "It was an intervisual dialogue. A hybrid of forms." Skratch smiled. "Joussance!" Lapinette pulled a face. "Roland Barthes?" Skratch pulled another face. "I was thinking of Lacan." The Wabbit grinned so much you could hear it. "The slippy-slidyness of the text." Lapinette frowned. "You're thinking of glissement." The Wabbit stopped grinning then started again. "That's glissement." This was followed by a long silence, interrupted by Wabsworth. "The French don't have a word for that!" Skratch meaowed long and hard. "Your joke routine is improving, Wabsworth." The Wabbit sat back. "Where's this double drink coming from?" Lapinette looked round. "I think I accidentally locked the door."  The Wabbit could see their drinks on the counter. "Life and prosecco are very similar," He paused and looked around, then delivered his punchline. "You have to chill for best results." Everyone groaned.

6. The Wabbit, Lapinette and Last Drinks

The Wabbit and Lapinette turned to find themselves at a cocktail bar. A voice said that they'd been a lot of fun, and they should help yourselves. They shrugged. The Wabbit sorted through the whisky and found an Auchentoshan. "This is my local whisky and just a short hop from my home in Scotland." Lapinette made herself a cocktail. "I just like the blue colour." They sipped. "Delicious," said the Wabbit. "Exquisite," said Lapinette. The Wabbit looked around. "Where's Sebby?" Lapinette shrugged. "He's looking for a painting to be in." The Wabbit grinned. "I'm sure he'll find something to his satisfaction." They both laughed. Lapinette considered. "We seem to be pre-empting the Adventure Caffe." "We'd be stupid not to," said the Wabbit. He savoured his whisky. "It tastes of honey and dandelions." He sipped again. "And wellington boots." They set down their drinks and did a little dance. "I didn't know you knew the waltz." smiled Lapinette. "I happen to be a bronze medallist," answered the Wabbit. "You didn't get the gold?" queried Lapinette. "I fell over my coat," admitted the Wabbit, "but I landed on my back and twirled my partner round like an ice skater." Lapinette paused because she knew there would be a punch line. "I got points for improvisation," laughed the Wabbit. 

5. The Wabbit and the Smoke Eater.

It was only the Wabbit who was drawn into the picture. Sebby the Hat and Lapinette were pushed rudely to the side, but he found himself face to face with a woman with a direct stare. She was a smoke eater. The Wabbit knew this from twenties movies. His head was whirling. He heard a voice in his head telling him she had more curves than Passo Pordoi and the right number of navigable slopes. She fixed him with a steely gaze. "If you're some kind of forty niner, Mr Rabbit, I can inform you I'm no tomato." She threw him a look that was meant to make him roll over with his paws in the air. She sounded as half cut as her hair. His head twirled the other way. Another voice came into his head. He twisted his mouth into a wry smile and heard himself say, "You might be the cat's pyjamas, but I'm the big cheese. You won't get a handcuff from me unless you got plenty of hush money." A puff from her cigarette enveloped his head in a cloud of smoke. The smell of her breath was peaty, like an Islay whisky distillery. She looked closely at the Wabbit. "You're old father time," she breathed. "I think I'll sit this one out." She was fading from view. The Wabbit fell from the picture like a brick and into Lapinette's outstretched paws. She whispered in his ears. "Did you like the lines I gave you?" The Wabbit considered. "As much as chalk and cheese." "But did you like her?" she murmured. The Wabbit shrugged. "Like applause at the end of a show or ... a like on Facebook."

4. The Wabbits in a Work of Art

They all began to twirl and were ever so gradually sucked into a painting. "Where are we?" yelled Lapinette. She hung in the air being eyed up by a well-dressed gentleman who should have known better.  "It's when are we? About 1920 something!" shouted the Wabbit. He looked down at himself. "I'm only half in!" he yelled. A woman looked down at him. "I don't like rabbits," she stated. She was a sniffy sort and she pushed him from the painting. "We have all the fur we need and it's certainly not rabbit." But the gentleman with a rose in his lapel was more than happy. "Now you're a pretty little thing," he said to Lapinette, "What's your name?" Lapinette was almost at a loss for words but recovered quickly. "Trixie Beaujolais at your service," she simpered. Sebby made a bee line for the other gentleman. "Good Sir. You require a nice hat," he quipped. "Be off with you, rough Garibaldini," retorted the gentleman. "Perhaps you'd prefer a rose," said Lapinette. As sweet and sticky as honey, her voice trickled down on the fur. His eyes gleamed and he stretched out a hand. He was stuck to the rose and dangerously close to the fur. "Now's our chance," said the Wabbit. He unstuck himself and pulled his friends from the painting. They gazed for a second. Everyone in the painting was stuck to each other. Then the Wabbit, Lapinette and Sebby each felt a tug and a push. The Wabbit exclaimed, "Oh no, it's happening again..." 

3. The Wabbit and the Belle Epoque

The neighbourhood wasn't great on eateries and the Wabbit returned to the hotel for a snack. To his surprise, Lapinette caught up with him there and she was wearing a Garibaldini hat. He knew it was Sebby and he gulped. He ushered Lapinette into a corner. "That's Sebby!" His voice was a hoarse whisper. Wherever Sebby went there was bound to be trouble. "I know," she said. "He's just .." And just at that moment, he flew off Lapinette's head and into the air. He moved so quickly he was just a blur and the Wabbit lost sight of him. The hotel was a product of the belle epoque and the paintings were of their time. They were representations of various luminaries of the period, and the Wabbit was a little in awe of them. Even more so when they began to move. Not only did they move but they began to talk among themselves. "Who are these ghastly people?" said one in an expensive high pitched voice, which the Wabbit felt was  high fallutin. "Oh, leave them alone, they might be fun," said another more mellow fellow. The lady high up on the wall was rather amenable. She threw her rose to Lapinette who smiled and caught it. Sebby twirled and danced and as he swirled around, the Wabbit felt a strange feeling, a bit like a shove and a bit like a pull. So did Lapinette. "Come," said the lady on the wall. "Come with me." The Wabbit caught sight of a calendar with the pages flying round and round. He recognised a sinking in his tummy - and it wasn't hunger ... 

2. Lapinette and the Garibaldi Hat

Just as the Wabbit left the Hotel, Lapinette was visiting a little-known museum way across town. It was a working museum and there were still offices and staff- so Lapinette was there by kind permission of a very nice man from the Ministry. She wandered through the building. Apart from the telephones, it remained exactly as it was in the nineteen twenties and thirties, with beautiful murals, statues and artefacts. A memorial to the soldiers of the Great War, it was designed by important artists of the time and bore the embellishments of Mussolini. Lapinette gasped at the attention to detail. At the bottom of a wide staircase, she came upon a large mural dedicated to the people. But she noticed a curious detail. A Garibaldini marched alongside the rest. "Psst!" Her ears flapped and she tuned in to the sound. "Psst, Lapinette. Over here." Lapinette was amazed. It was Sebby the Hat. She sighed. "Sebby, I thought you were going to behave yourself." Sebby floated down. I did a bit of exploring and then I got stuck in here." He whirled round. "Get me out of here." He settled on Lapinette's head. "Hey!" yelled Lapinette. "It's my exit strategy," said Sebby, "Besides you look most fetching." Lapinette made for the door. Sebby whistled a marching tune and span round a few times. A member of staff held the door for her. "That hat suits you," she remarked. Lapinette laughed politely. "I can pull a rabbit out of it!"