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!"

4. The Wabbit and the Bloody Rabbit

It was all over and they made their way from the museum. "I think AI is a crock of Schmidt." The Wabbit could be merciless in his criticism. Lapinette laughed. "Surely you mean a sack of grit?" They both giggled. That was when it happened. A vampire rabbit stormed down the stairs and vomited blood over them. The Wabbit expressed annoyance. His coat had just come out of the dry cleaners. Lapinette was wearing her favourite frock and she let forth a stream of swear words that were less than polite. The rabbit laughed and coughed up more gore. "I'm real, I'm real," he yelled, "I'm the best that AI can offer." The Wabbit said something under his breath. "I heard that!" The rabbit vampire span and shattered, then coalesced. "I'm a rootin', tootin', ton of fun!" The Wabbit turned and stood his ground. "You've no self-awareness, you have no clue who you are." "You're in a fit of twin pique." responded the rabbit. "You think you're funny," yelled the Wabbit. "Funnier than you!" The vampire rabbit coughed up more blood. "Watch my kilt!" roared Lapinette. "Well plaid," retorted the rabbit. Lapinette turned purple and made for the rabbit, but he began to fade. They heard a whisper. "I'm an AI rabbit." Then nothing. The Wabbit shrugged and joked. "I need a drink. What do you think our AI friend will have?" Lapinette jumped up and down. "He'll choose what everyone else is having."  

3. The Wabbit and the Poorly Staged AI.

As the Wabbit came round he had a flash of clarity. This wasn't real. The ferocious rabbit was merely an artificially generated image and not a very good one. He could see the ragged edges. The gun was far from accurate. His teeth looked like they'd seen better days. He was making a lot of noise, but the sounds were the flash bang wallop of an impoverished circus. Nonetheless, the Wabbit decided to go along with it, just to see what would happen. But he hadn't reckoned with Lovely Lapinette. She came dashing from the back rooms of the museum and grabbed the gun. "Leave my Wabbit alone, you brute!" The gun bent like butter. Lapinette continued her attack. Her paws flailed. The Wabbit tried to stop her. "It's artificial intelligence," he yelled. "It's harmless." Lapinette's eyes gleamed. "I'll tear its fur off and use it to stuff cushions." The AI rabbit was taking a pasting. He stopped in his tracks. "I give up," he croaked, "call off your dogs." Lapinette thumped him in the eye. "Don't you call me a dog you artificial hogwashery." The AI rabbit shrank back and turned away. He hopped a feeble hop and hid whimpering behind a generator. The Wabbit shrugged. "I don't think the technology is there yet." Lapinette calmed down. "Where did he come from?" The Wabbit grinned. "A bad B movie?" "Stands for Blithering Bore," snapped Lapinette.

2. The Wabbit and the Creature of Gloom

The Wabbit floated semiconscious, just above the grid of the platform. He could smell engine oil from the big power generators - and something else. It was the palpable smell of evil. He blinked and tried to come round. Then he saw it. It was a monstrous sight, a creature with slavering jaws. Electric prods nestled between the creature's feet. It came closer. Its jaws clashed as they opened and closed. Teeth rattled; a tongue rasped. Eyes glared red, as bloodshot as three nights on the tiles. Fangs moved all around the Wabbit's head. But the Wabbit realised one thing. The fangs came close but never really touched him. He asked himself if it were a fantasy, but he could feel the rush of its fetid breath, hear the crackling of electrodes. He twisted. There was movement there. Whatever electrical anaesthetic had plunged him into a trance was wearing off. He tried to touch a lever on the big generator but it was just out of reach. His voice was a mere croak, but it was something. The creature came ever closer and sniffed him. It stank. The Wabbit tried not to flinch. He didn't move - except for his grasping paw. It was a hairsbreadth away from the lever. The creature turned and tried to stop him but the Wabbit gripped the lever and pressed down. Everything went dark. The Wabbit hit the floor and picked himself up. His eyes grew accustomed to the gloom. He looked all around. The creature had gone for now, but its rancid smell hung in the air like dead flesh. The Wabbit slapped a paw on his forehead. "Haven't seen the last of him!"

1. The Wabbit in the Electric Museum

The Wabbit hopped around Centrale Montemartini Museum. He was a familiar figure there. Most people he met, nodded and said hello. He paused by a ladder that led to the top of a power unit. The area had been roped off but the Wabbit paid no attention. "I wonder if anything's changed?" he mused. Things were certainly cleaner than usual. "I wonder if they're expecting anyone?" He leaned on a step and looked from side to side. There was no-one around. He mounted the first step. A voice rang out. "Visitors to the museum who are residents of Rome are reminded to renew their pass." The Wabbit smiled. "Nothing to do with me." He'd had his pass for some time. It allowed him entrance to most museums and as for the rest, he could usually blag his way past the desk with some story or other. He looked up to the top but when he saw a strange creature, he hid away to the side. "I don't think that's supposed to be there." There was always a chance it was part of an installation. The Wabbit disliked installations. He took another look, but it had disappeared. "A figment of my fertile imagination," he chortled, and he continued up the ladder. No sooner was he on the first platform, when he saw the creature behind him. It advanced on him with two sharp metal prods. The Wabbit tried to avoid them but it was hopeless. He felt a surge of electricity and fell helpless onto a metal grid ...