1. The Wabbit and the Raven's Warning

The Wabbit was back in Turin inspecting the works on the Department of Wabbit Affairs. He was not altogether pleased, but then again, nothing much pleased the Wabbit. He wandered through the building looking it up and down. The Interior Designers had their messy paws in everything he noticed, but altogether it wasn't that bad. He'd reached the top of the building and was going to sneak down the emergency stairs when he saw a strange display. "Oh really," he said, "they've gone too far this time." He stared for a bit because the figure looked familiar. He'd seen a raven just like it at the old castle. "Beware!" said the Raven. "Beware of the stairs!" The Wabbit often received beware messages and he generally took no notice. He gave the Raven an old-fashioned look. "What's wrong with the stairs. Are they a bit rickety?" The Raven lifted its hooked beak and spoke in a quavering voice "They're not rickety, they're ghostly stairs and you'll be doomed, doomed I tell you." The Wabbit looked all round and squinted into the distance. The stairs looked perfectly normal. "It's the quickest way out," he said. He noticed no-one else was using them and he wrinkled his nose. "I'll just go and have a look." The Raven swallowed hard. "I'd better come with you. In case you get into any trouble." The Wabbit laughed. "Trouble is my middle name." The Raven wanted to know whether the Wabbit had any other names. "Double," said the Wabbit, "Let's go." Then together, they went to the staircase ... 

The Wabbit and his Adventure Caffè

The team gathered early morning at a Caffè in Testaccio Market. There was hardly anyone around. It was a holiday and very few market stalls were open. They grinned at each other and said together, "What was that for a sort of Adventure?" Skratch purred. "It was purportedly an environmental adventure with dire warnings about what was in store for the earth. But it was about something else." Wabsworth raised a paw. "The backdrop was more of a considered awareness of the natural world." Lapinette shook her head. "There was a key duality between environment with a post-apocalyptic flavour, and the question of waste itself." The Wabbit raised a paw in the air. "Real questions about what to do with waste." They contemplated for a second. Skratch was first to break the silence. "Charles Soukup poses an interesting question. He says techno-scopophilia and the voyeuristic portrayal of military technology itself is highly sexualised." Everyone's eyes went large. Lapinette pursed her lips. "There goes the family audience." Wabsworth tried to rescue the conversation. "Soukup also points out that the power of technology can be portrayed as both unwieldy and uncontrollable." The Wabbit threw up both paws. "I'll go with that, Wabsworth. We surely aren't victims of the sexualised scopic gaze." Lapinette smiled sardonically. "We're more art house than grind house." The Wabbit leaned back and looked around. "I fancy a Prosecco. Anyone joining me?" "It's 9 o'clock in the morning," gasped Lapinette. "I love the smell of Prosecco in the morning," said the Wabbit.

7. The Wabbit and the Ghastly Waste

Susan flung a grappling hook at the container, and they were off. But before they cleared the horizon a green ship rose from behind a ghostly moon and fired a single shot. It was a bolt of yellow lightening and it struck the container dead centre. The container glowed red, then exploded. Green toxic waste spilled out, bubbled onto the planet surface and into the reaches of the atmosphere. "Change of plan?" muttered the Wabbit. "They'd rather pollute than purify," said Lapinette. "Not much we can do at this stage," shrugged Wabsworth. "Interstellar Mode," snapped Lapinette. Susan didn't wait for an instant. With a roar of her propellers she vanished into a single white light. Space seemed different. Quiet. Eerie. "Not much to look at," said the Wabbit. "In Interstellar Mode, there's no-one to hear you complain," quipped Susan, "How long until we get home?" said the Wabbit. "Since I don't know where we started from, I've no idea," replied Susan. Wabsworth offered a solution. "I made some measurements. We'll be home in time for tea." Lapinette laughed. "None of us drink tea." "I'll do them again," said Wabsworth. He whirred a bit. "Time for Prosecco." Susan chortled. In Interstellar Mode it's hard to tell time." "Must be late then," said the Wabbit. "Or even early," said Lapinette. Susan switched off the drive and the earth swam into view. "Can you see a bar?" asked Lapinette. She wiggled her ears. "Because I can." The Wabbit had a fit of the giggles. "Take us in Susan. It's opening time."

 [Background Picture Pixabay.]

6. The Wabbit and the Toxic Trouble

Night fell. The desert gave way to a barren landscape. They could make out alien planets in the sky - or were they suns? There was no way of knowing. The team were on the Ice Mice before they knew it. Massive ears could be seen as they worked on one of their installations - the usual assembly of giant ice cubes. But there was a difference. A giant canister protruded from the dusty planet surface. "Let's go," yelled the Wabbit. He jumped from Susan's wing and so did Lapinette. Together they inspected the canister. "Toxic waste," murmured the Wabbit. "How can you tell?" asked Lapinette. The Wabbit grimaced. "It always comes in rusty containers like this. Destined for earth no doubt." They saw two more Ice Mice emerge from beneath the container and run for their lives. "Technicians," said the Wabbit. Lapinette agreed "They have notebooks." Susan circled overhead with Wabsworth. The Wabbit made a sign for Wabsworth to release the grappling hook. "What's your plan?" queried Lapinette. "Get it off-planet," said the Wabbit, "We can't destroy it. It'll hurl crap everywhere." Lapinette frowned at the Wabbit's use of bad language, but decided to let it go. "What about the Ice Mice?" The Wabbit had no idea. "We'll decide later?" He fished in his fur for a package of dynamite and passed it to Lapinette. "You throw it. Keep em busy." Lapinette pitched it as far she could. The Wabbit took brief aim and fired a single shot. There was a distant explosion accompanied by mice-like squeaks. "Fire in the mouse hole," said the Wabbit.
[Background pictures from Pixabay   ]

5. The Wabbit and the Unnamed Desert

The team had nicknamed the place Chuck a Luck, but they weren't having much luck at all. The further they trekked, the bleaker it became. The ground beneath their feet was super parched. The sky turned from red to black. The few clouds there were, refused to give up their payload. No water was to be had, except for weak rainfall around an old dead tree. It was Lapinette that spotted it. She took a cup from her frock and held it out to the meagre shower that surrounded the branches. "Yeugh," she yelled. It was brackish and undrinkable. The Wabbit felt in his fur for a water flask, but there was none. Susan the Biplane flew overhead, dead slow to conserve fuel. They could have travelled with Susan but the Wabbit insisted he could see more from the ground. He began to regret it. "This was once a sea," he said. Everyone had noticed the abandoned barge and they nodded. "Climate change," said Wabsworth. "Maybe this is our future," remarked the Wabbit. Lapinette began to sing again, and everyone slapped a paw to their heads. "After three days in the sun. I was looking at a dry seabed. The story it told of a sea that once flowed. Made me sad it was dead." The Wabbit stared at Lapinette. "What's with all the singing?" Lapinette smiled a strange smile. "Passes the time when we're looking for Ice Mice." Wabsworth laughed. "We'll sing them into submission." They trudged on. "I'm imagining a glass of Prosecco," said the Wabbit. "Imagine one for me too," said Lapinette. 

[Background Picture: MartySeb Pixabay.]

4. The Wabbit and the Alpine Recce

Susan flew into the Alps and for a while her visibility declined. It was as if they were in a fog. But then the fog began to clear. They all blinked. "Where are we?" asked the Wabbit. For once Wabsworth was nonplussed. What lay beneath them was a hot ocean. Above them, two alien suns. And there was rain in copious quantities - but the rain was warm, and it poured down their backs like a hot shower. They jumped from Susan onto a black, charred beach and ran jumping. Lapinette pointed. "Over there. I see rocks." The rocks were hot too but not as hot as the beach. They rested there for a while. Susan hovered over the hot sea. "I'll wait here," she said. "I'm not keen on Turkish baths. They rust my mechanisms." Lapinette had been thinking. "Maybe this is the Ice Mice Hideaway. In a time warp in the Alps." Wabsworth chortled. "Like Rancho Notorious." The Wabbit was amused. "We'll call this Planet Chuck a Luck." They turned, astonished, as Lapinette pirouetted and began to sing in a haunting voice. 

                                      It began, they say, one summer day,

                                      When the sun was blazing down,

                                      It was back in the early seventies,

                                      In a little Wyoming Town

                                      So listen to the story of Chuck a Luck,

                                      Listen to the Wheels of Fate, 

                                      As round and round with a whispering sound, 

                                      It sings the old old story of  ...

                                      ... Hate, murder and revenge.

"What's that got to do with anything?" asked the Wabbit. "I quite liked it," said Wabsworth. "It's a gambling song," said the Wabbit, "but what about hate murder and revenge?" "I'll get to that," said Lapinette.

3. The Wabbit & the Ice Mice Installation

It happened in an instant. They found the Ice Mice and their installation. It was in the shape of a tower and seemed to fulfil a particular purpose. Susan flew back and forth chopping their ice blocks to pieces. Then she activated her air conditioning unit and added a few more ice blocks for good measure. Lapinette and Wabsworth chucked ice on the Ice Mice without mercy and watched them turn tail and run. "That was too easy," commented the Wabbit, "but what the binky were they doing?" Lapinette scrunched up her eyes. "I think it was some kind of reverse air conditioning. It makes ice blocks and leaves the rest of the land ... just desert." Wabsworth was thinking too. "Evapotranspiration?" The Wabbit brought Susan round. "Something of the sort. And the possible end of the line for Turin." Susan wheeled about again in a corkscrew fashion. "Were not going to allow it. Let's hunt the rest of them down!" The three squeezed into a cockpit that was only big enough for one. The Wabbit boosted the heating. "Do a recce of the Alps, Susan," he murmured. "Right away Sir," said Susan, "What music would you like?" Lapinette jumped in because she somewhat disapproved of Susan's affection for the Wabbit. "It's cold outside," she suggested. "OK fine, just another drink then," joked the Wabbit. He delved into his fur, took out a hip flask and poured whisky into three stainless steel glasses. "That took a lot of convincing," laughed Lapinette.

[Background photo:  https://pixabay.com/photos/three-peaks-mountains-lime-rock-176000/] 

2. The Wabbit and the Deserted Desert

The throb of a biplane's engines cut into the summer air and before long the Wabbit and Lapinette took off in Susan and flew north. Susan had brought Wabsworth along for his android knowledge - since he'd been forever complaining about not appearing in an adventure. But as they flew further things began to get drier. By the time they were over Piedmont, the landscape was unrecognisable. The air was like a thousand hairdryers. Susan skimmed the desert sand. Only a few scrubby plants remained in what had been lush fields and pasture. "Can your sensors detect any water, Susan?" asked the Wabbit. "Hardly any," said Susan. Lapinette had sharper eyes than most and she looked out. "Over there!" "Over where? asked the Wabbit. He was just being annoying. She pointed. "Blind as a bat," she muttered under her breath. The Wabbit grinned and twisted the joystick. Susan wheeled to port. "I saw a camel over there!" joked the Wabbit. "As it happens, I did see a camel over there," said Lapinette. Wabsworth chimed in "It's probably got the hump." "One hump or two?" said Susan. They laughed and laughed. But the landscape became progressively drier. "Where's that water?" asked the Wabbit. "Evaporating as we speak," said Lapinette. "No visual bearings now," said Susan, "just desert." The Wabbit gripped the joystick between his paws and flailed his paws. "I'd like a nice dessert." Wabsworth looked down. The arid air was bad for his fur. "My sense of humour sub routine has deserted me." Lapinette held her paw aloft. "I see a volume of ice and think I can see the Ice Mice." Wabsworth scowled. "I hate these pesky rodents."

[Background picture:  Art Tower ]

1. The Wabbit and the Free Water

The cleaning wagon made a whooshing noise and the Wabbit turned. There was a free water fountain where Rome provided pure water for citizens. It was near St Peter's rail station - and there the Wabbit often stood to watch the trains go by. He paused on the sidewalk with his bottle. It was seriously hot, and humidity soaked his coat. He could have switched on the air conditioning unit that he kept in his fur - but he wanted to feel the heat like everyone else. He watched the wagon go through its regular cleaning motions and he felt pleased that it was there. People were messy and the Wabbit greatly disapproved of litter. Travellers came and went, although there were fewer than there used to be. The Wabbit wondered where the line went. He'd investigated and it was rather easy to look up on a map. But every time he did, the line disappeared into tunnels and he would give up. The Wabbit thought he'd leave it to chance to find out. The question of water remained. It had been a long time since it rained, and the river looked very low. Back in Turin, the Po was as low as could be. Probably he could wade across. That was something that couldn't be left to chance. The Ice Mice crossed his mind. They were always messing with the weather and the Wabbit had been forced to deal with them on several occasions. He made a mental note. < Check out Ice Mice >. He forced himself to stop wondering about things. Lapinette often said it was bad for him and probably it was. It was then that he heard a shout and he swivelled his eyes ... 

The Wabbit at his Adventure Caffè

The team met at a Caffè they didn't know. Lapinette was in ebullient mood. She flew through the door and jumped in the air with delight. "What was that for a sort of Adventure?" she cried. The Wabbit looked bemused. Skratch answered immediately. "High tech narrative world making," he meaowed. "The references to Westworld were well placed to exploit the world-within-a-world approach." The Wabbit smiled. "You go too far Skratch. It was just a bit of fun." Wabsworth rapped on the table. "Let's have some order here. It was in fact a reflexive world embedded in worldly experience." Skratch let out a hiss that was close to a shriek. "It was a paradoxical transgression between the world of the telling and that of the told." Lapinette squealed. "Oooh! Gerard Genette and his extra diegetic narrator intruding into the diegetic universe!" The Wabbit nodded. "Metalepsis if you like." Lapinette clapped her paws together. "Oh, that's far too technical. I really enjoyed the story. It was great fun to be in." Wabsworth seemed pained. "It's been quite a while since I was in a story." Skratch nodded. "Me too." It was the Wabbit's turn to clap his paws - which he did twice, sharply. "I can guarantee you'll be in the next one." He paused. "Always supposing you buy me a drink." "What would you like, Wabbit?" said Skratch. "And you too, Lovely Lapinette? "I'd like something really cold," said the Wabbit. "So would I," said Lapinette. Skratch raised his paw. "Prosecco all round!" The robotic voice of the waiter sounded. "That-is-all-we-have."

9. The Wabbits come home to Rome

Pacchero scooped up the Wabbit and Lapinette and flew through time to deposit them back where they'd come from. When they lurched from Pacchero's capacious girth, they saw he'd landed beside a caricature of the Pope. The Wabbit smiled. he knew Pacchero was playing a final joke. "What's this? A refugee from that Banksy exhibition?" asked Lapinette. The Wabbit laughed and laughed and waved heartily. "It's St Peter the Roman who will preside over the last judgement." Lapinette waved too. "Rome under heavy manners?" she asked, "I didn't say it was that bad." Pacchero trembled slightly. "Your description of Rome sounded like the end of the line. So I brought you to this quiet spot to contemplate the future." Pacchero went on. "He will pasture his sheep in many tribulations and lay waste the seven hills of Rome." The Wabbit smiled and shook his head. "Much too apocalyptic for me." Lapinette was thoughtful and changed the subject. "What are you going to do now Pacchero? Pasta World doesn't seem to be working out for you." Pacchero laughed. "I'm thinking of a new venture. The great Pasta Trail. A Pasta path leads round the coast and takes you past all the great Italian seascapes." The Wabbit dissolved into laughter. "You'll start with Ponzi." Lapinette put her paws on her hips. "You mean Ponza with its wonderful history." The Wabbit doubled up. "No. I meant Ponzi, for money making fun." "Ponzi bought a macaroni factory you know," said Lapinette. Pacchero trembled. "What happened to it?" "His management pasta way," quipped the Wabbit.

8. The Wabbit in Old Rome World

No longer in Pasta World, they'd crossed into Roman World and taken the pasta with them. "What the binky is going on?" shouted the Wabbit. "You're not supposed to be here," yelled a Roman soldier. "This is Roman World. Get out and take that pasta with you. We haven't invented it yet." The farfalle swarmed all around the soldiers. Blood spurted right and left but it was fake. Radiatori crawled around the scene getting in the way. Lapinette grimaced and wiped the spatters from her frock. She examined them, then sniffed them. "This blood is pasta sauce." The Wabbit was furious. "This whole thing is bananas," he yelled. Lapinette was horrified. "Don't mention bananas, that's tempting fate." The Roman soldiers stood stiffly to attention. "We just don't appreciate this. Rectify it immediately and begone." The Wabbit grunted. "This is all Pacchero's fault." Lapinette dragged herself from under a mountain of pasta. "I lost track of him. Where is he?" Just then a voice boomed out. "Don't worry I've got everything under control. I'm bringing you back." The Wabbit's voice was icy. "Bringing us back where?" Pacchero's voice boomed again. "Where you first started." He paused. "Where did you start? Was it Calypso World?" The Wabbit lost his temper. "It was Via Giulia in Rome," he snapped. "Rome when?" asked Pacchero. "Rome now," shrugged the Wabbit. "Rome in the 21st Century," explained Lapinette. "You know. Buses, taxis, tourists, hustle, bustle, double parking." Pacchero considered. "And just remind me - where was that again?" 

7. The Wabbit and the Big Heat

They ran down the tracks of the Control Room until the tunnel exit became a spiral. The Farfalla wasn't going to give up and he charged at the Wabbit and Lapinette. They continued to retreat but the Wabbit grabbed a couple of fire hoses from the wall and tossed one at Lapinette. Then they hosed the farfalla for all they were worth. But the Wabbit had something else in mind. With an industrial heater he kept in his fur he began to heat the water until it reached boiling point. The farfalla was tough and resisted but couldn't do anything about the temperature. It began to get soft and as the boiling water poured over it, it emitted a terrible hissing. The Wabbit increased the temperature. The farfalla was in the middle of a hurricane of scalding water. They had the upper paw now and the Wabbit decreased the water flow. The farfalla was extremely limp and fell to the ground, flopping around like a jelly fish. "I think that takes care of that," he said. Lapinette nodded and put down her fire hose. "I can't help feeling sorry for it." But the floundering gave way to twitching. The twitching gave way to spasms. Suddenly the serrated edges of the farfalla sprouted like the teeth of the hydra. They waved menacingly and started towards the Wabbit. "Any ideas?" said Lapinette. Only one," replied the Wabbit. Together they turned tail and ran down into the spiral. But the spiral began to spin faster and faster to a blur. When it stopped, they found themselves in another phantasmagorical pasta world ..

6. The Wabbit's Control Room Skirmish

Pacchero shot along the control room tracks and screeched to a halt. The place was deserted. There were pictures on the monitors but no one sat at any chairs. Lapinette and the Wabbit disembarked and looked around. Nothing. Nothing except the whirring of wings. Suddenly the farfalle were on them. They came at them in a lightning raid - rushing and swooping and pouncing then swooping again. The Wabbit and Lapinette had no hesitation in pulling out automatics and they fired burst after burst. The effort opened Lapinette's wound and she bled profusely over Pacchero - who shuddered and sat very still. If he'd had eyes he would have covered them. "Tell me when it's all over," he muttered. Lapinette managed to clip a farfalla but that didn't stop it. It merely wheeled about and nose-dived again. "What to do about them?" shouted Lapinette, "Can you get to the pasta control panels?" The Wabbit searched in his fur for a spare magazine. "I'm rather busy," he growled. But he moved backwards nonetheless. Lapinette laid down covering fire but more farfalle were coming. The Wabbit kept firing too but moving backward played havoc with his aim. He flailed with his paws and managed to hit one between the wings. It flew erratically into the tunnel and disappeared. "Gotcha," he yelled. He was nearly at the control desk and he looked at the picture of the pasta ocean. "I'll never eat fusilli again," he groaned. "You don't eat it anyway," shouted Lapinette." The Wabbit scowled and grunted. "I'll make an exception."

5. The Wabbit & Lapinette in the Pasta Sea

Pacchero yawed and spilled Lapinette and the Wabbit into a strange pasta sea, composed of fusilli-infested reginette. It rose and fell rhythmically just like an ocean. The reginette was sharp and the fusilli snatched at their faces. The Wabbit struck out regardless but made little headway against the reginette which threatened to drown him. Lapinette clutched onto the Wabbit - still nursing an injured paw. Blood stained the waves pink. "Cling on," yelled the Wabbit. "I don't like the look of these creatures," shouted Lapinette. "Everything's gone rogue," exclaimed the Wabbit, "The whole place is a disaster." The breakers made a woozy sound as they crashed on the beach. Lapinette disappeared beneath them for an instant but the Wabbit hauled her up. She coughed and spluttered as pasta got up her nose. Pacchero tried to right himself and the Wabbit made for the safety of their craft, dragging Lapinette behind. "Pacchero is our only hope," shouted the Wabbit. Lapinette kicked her feet for extra propulsion. A fusillo was right behind her, attracted by the threshing. It was slow but deadly and its mouth chomped relentlessly. A kick landed on its teeth and Lapinette cried out in satisfaction. "Take that for your trouble, fusillo." Pacchero called out. "This way. Over here." He righted himself and bobbed up and down on the waves. The Wabbit's paw found a grip on the edge of Pacchero's pasta body. Then he and Lapinette hauled themselves on board. "I'm headed for the control room," yelled Pacchero. "What's there?" asked the Wabbit. Lapinette gritted her teeth. "Lasagne with lasers!" 

4. The Wabbit and the Rabid Radiatori

Pacchero stopped over a lovely garden. The Wabbit and Lapinette looked over the edge. "This is Radiatori Land," said Pacchero. Lapinette pointed. "Oh look, there's pasta creatures moving round. They must be little radiators." She was delighted. "They look like slugs," muttered the Wabbit. "Don't be boring," snapped Lapinette. She leaned out further. Pacchero shuddered. He seemed to be having stability problems. "Just contacting computer control," he spluttered. "They'll have me sorted out in an instant." Lapinette and the Wabbit slid down further. Then with a yell Lapinette lost her grip and plunged towards the ground. The Wabbit seized her by the frock. But he was slipping too. A Radiatore jumped at Lapinette's paw and bit it. Blood spurted. "Yaagh that hurt!" shouted Lapinette. She yelled to the Wabbit. "Get me out of here!" The Wabbit still had her frock by the hem and he hung on and pulled it. Pacchero was aghast. "This never happens," he gasped, "We have too many failsafes! You can't get hurt in here." The Wabbit pulled himself back on board with Lapinette's dress bunched around his legs. "Your fails aren't safe enough," he growled. The Radiatore stuttered. "Boy boy boy have have we got got a v v v acation for you you you." The Wabbit groped for his automatic. But Pacchero was ready to take off. Lapinette clambered to her feet and spoke to the Radiatore. "You bit me." The Radiatore jumped up and just missed Lapinette. "I'll bit bit bit you again." "You talk too much," shouted Lapinette. "Make me shut up!" yelled the Radiatore. Pacchero started to spin - and they were gone.

3. The Wabbit at the Farfalle Corral

When Pacchero stopped, it was by a church and the sun was baking hot. Lapinette and the Wabbit hopped out on the steps, surrounded by a whizzing and a whirring of wings. "Welcome to Farfalle World!" said Pacchero. Lapinette expressed delight and jumped up and down with excitement. The Wabbit looked sceptical. "Are you sure this is safe?" Pacchero nodded. "Safe as a sardine," yelled Pacchero, "Everything in Pasta World is totally secure." He laughed and laughed. A farfalla brushed against the Wabbit's ears, then settled on his shoulders. The Wabbit whacked it off. "They're a bit big for my liking." Lapinette paid no attention. She jumped and stretched and tried to touch the farfalle. They whirled around her head and made small screechy sounds. Pacchero rocked back and forth. "Everything is computer controlled from our Pasta Centre, a state-of-the-art pasta installation on the outskirts of Rome." Lapinette frolicked around, delighted. The Wabbit skulked about in a bad mood. "You're not enjoying yourself," said Lapinette. "I have trust issues," replied the Wabbit. He pondered. "It's all too good to be true. I'm not putting any faith in someone's remote computer." "You mean that's not run by you," said Lapinette. "Yes," admitted the Wabbit. He nodded vigorously to himself but was interrupted. "All aboard for our next stop," shouted Pacchero. Lapinette bounced towards Pacchero followed by a grumbling Wabbit. "This new destination will amaze and astonish you," yelled Pacchero. "I'd rather have a tuna sandwich," sulked the Wabbit.

2. The Wabbit and the way to Pasta World

It was certainly an amazing sight. The Wabbit had never seen a piece of pasta that big. He stepped inside and made his way from one end to the other. He looked all around. It was huge. The pasta shape began to shake and then it spoke. "Welcome to Pasta World. I promise you an experience you'll never forget." The Wabbit thought he was hearing things. So he continued exploring. "Pasta stands above the rest," said the Pasta with pride. The Wabbit knew the pasta shape. It was called Pacchero and something else he couldn't quite recall. "The Gods made Pasta," said the Pasta. The Wabbit swore the pasta nodded. He fished in his fur for his radio and called Lapinette. "Come straight away!" said the Wabbit. "You won't want to miss this." The Pasta started again. "Mama Mia, that's a spicy pasta!" it gurgled. "I heard that," said Lapinette and I'm on my way." "Hurry, hurry, hurry," said the Pasta. "Pasta World awaits." The Wabbit started to laugh. "This is great. Do be quick." The walkie talkie crackled and faded. "Schiaffoni!" exclaimed the Wabbit. Pacchero meant a friendly slap on the back and schiaffoni meant the same - but harder. "Pasta World!" yelled the Pasta, "Where pasta is a slap on the back!" The Pasta started to rock back and forward. The Wabbit saw Lapinette dart round a corner. "Jump on," shouted the Wabbit. "Jump on, we're off." It began to roll. "Live without limits!" yelled the Pasta. "Discover your Calling!" Lapinette dived on and they were off ...

1. The Wabbit and the Pasta Wine Bar

The Wabbit was at a loose end. He's just finished a mission and there was no sign of another. His hop was more of an amble as he meandered through the streets. Everything was closed and the places that weren't, were - to put it bluntly - naffable. His eyes lit on a place he hadn't seen before. It was closed even for the sale of pasta. "La Bottega," he murmured and mentally put it on his list. He couldn't remember whether it was the place that had been rude to him. He'd decided never to go there again, rather than do something unmentionable to it - and he'd shut it out his mind. But it wasn't the same place. He inspected the sign. "Handmade pasta!" he exclaimed. "Nothing like it." It was rather a hot day for June and the air smelled of burning paper and plastic - the result of a recycling plant fire. "Hope they didn't burn the pasta," he laughed to himself. He hopped onward. The sun beat down like it never had before. Even the hardiest of tourists were running in melting flip-flops, and their shorts and baggy t-shirts billowed in the wind that always afflicted Rome. It felt like standing against a giant hot air drier. The Wabbit switched on the air conditioning he'd fitted in his fur. He seldom used it, but sometimes there was a call for it. "Aaaah," he said. "It's an ill wind that blows nobody any good." Then, just as he rounded a corner, he saw something he'd never seen before ...

The Wabbit's Adventure Caffè

The Wabbit and Lapinette hopped through the old Roman ghetto where they'd arranged to meet. The Wabbit wanted Jerusalem artichokes and he knew he'd find the best ones there. Wabsworth beat them to it. He'd claimed a table and waved at everyone. "Best restaurant, best seat," he exclaimed. Skratch brought up the rear and finally caught up. "What was that for sort of adventure?" he meaowed. Wabsworth got into the spirit early. "It was an exercise in horrality," he said. "The unexpected duck is liminal in its bodily state and the interaction with Ancient Egypt seeks to titillate the audience with a comedic yet intimate apocalypse." Skratch purred long and hard. "Horrality?" he repeated. "Some words and things need to be invented for what has to be said." Lapinette grinned. "I have a problem with dislocating our story from its generic overtones." The Wabbit was not to be outdone. "I would say the genre is over- saturated." Wabsworth nodded. "The fascistic continuum of fiction!" he ventured. "That's Philip Brophy," said Lapinette, "and I know that some textuality is bound up with over-saturation." Skratch urged caution. "Textuality is hilarity," he hissed. "Don't look up," said the Wabbit, reading Skratch's t-shirt just out of the blue. Everyone turned. "Do you think that Rufflesmuck Duck could be a science fiction horror cult?" asked the Wabbit. "I believe he has his admirers," replied Wabsworth. "I'm thirsty," said Lapinette. "And I'm hungry," added the Wabbit. They sat down beside Wabsworth. "What's on the menu for cats?" asked Skratch. "Gefilte Fish," laughed Lapinette.
 [Many thanks to Philip Brophy for inspiration.]

6. The Wabbit and a Dynasty of Pharoahs

Tipsy positioned the Duck's craft and vanished up a flight of stairs to start the engine. But before she could do a thing the craft began to change. She threw the switches anyway. The outer shell broke its crust. Fissures appeared. Then out of the fiery ball appeared a familiar figure. "Unut!" gasped the Wabbit. Unut raised her paws. A sharp crack sounded, and a bolt of lightning coursed across her body.  Pieces of shattered shell landed on the duck's head. "Rufflesmuck!" she cried. "Rufflesmuck, you're out of your territory." Rufflesmuck looked crestfallen. "It was an accident!" he yelled. "I've had enough of your accidents, Rufflesmuck. You must return to the Planet Fluck. Forthwith." Rufflesmuck looked at the Wabbit. "I'm sorry to have been any trouble." The Wabbit looked down at Unut with due deference to her Goddess status. Unut looked back up and frowned but the Wabbit shrugged. "He's never a bother, Unut." Unut considered. "If you're so fond of him you can keep him, but he cannot keep this craft. It belongs to the Ancient Dynasty of Pharaohs Chapter 3." Rufflesmuck whispered something under his breath. "I heard that Rufflesmuck!" shouted Unut, "It's not a beat-up piece of junk." Lapinette intervened. "We'll fix it up. It will be good as new." "It was never that great," admitted Unut. She considered for quite a while. "OK she's all yours. But I'll need a receipt." Tipsy produced a notebook and the Wabbit scribbled a receipt. "What shall I put as its value?" "Just make it a thousand QUID," said Unut. "You use these?" asked the Wabbit. "Doesn't everybody?" sighed Unut.

[QUID: Quasi Universal Intergalactic Denomination]

5. Tipsy and the craft of the Alien Duck

Tipsy made it look easy but it was far from that. She took a grappling iron from the back of the truck and threw it at the Duck's craft. The craft was still cooling down but there was enough for a good grip. The embers closed around the hook and it fastened securely. Then she put the truck in gear and engaged the engine. The craft gradually rose from the cliff and started to roll along nicely. Tipsy then took the scenic route down the mountain and dragged the craft along a river.  She put her foot down and mused to herself as she rolled along. "I hope for the Wabbit's sake that this all works." She nodded and admitted it usually did. The truck bounced along the river bed. The craft bounced behind. She hummed a merry tune about ducks. "He once was an ugly fluckling, feathers all flocky and brown. The earth people said in so many words. Just get the fluck out of town." Water sprayed on the windshield as she coasted along the river. She switched on the wipers. Nothing happened. "Sloppy Maintenance! Sard off you pizzling gnashgabs!" yelled Tipsy. Up ahead she could see the Tiber towpath that took them straight into Trastevere. Strictly speaking it wasn't for traffic, not even army trucks. But Tipsy slewed the wheel and headed downriver. She looked in the mirror. The craft was still there, a little cooler than before. The old power station came into sight. Tipsy thought of a joke to tell the Wabbit. "Now you'll reach enlightenment." She thought better of it. The Wabbit was the only one allowed to tell terrible jokes. She smiled to herself and turned the truck and its cargo into Centrale Montemartini.

4. The Wabbit and the Mummy in the Box

Acting on an inspired guess, the Wabbit took the duck to a museum he knew. The museum wasn't so well known and so it was quiet as the grave. When they came across the mummy in its glass and mirror tomb, the duck jumped in the air in amazement. "Why is she here?" he yelled. Lapinette looked with interest "What is she to you, Duck?" "She is the ancient founder of the Planet Fluck," said the duck, "Is this Valhalla?" The Wabbit shook his head. "This is an old electric generating system in Rome. It was powered by giant engines." The duck jumped higher. "It sounds like Valhalla to me, where they bring the dead. There must be many rooms here." Tipsy stood back, quiet for once. "There are indeed many rooms, named after the engines that inhabited them." The duck wanted to know their names, but the Wabbit knew they were only numbers. "Boiler Room One," he said. "Boiler Room Two," said Lapinette. "Each contains a massive engine of many horsepower," lisped Tipsy. The duck was thoughtful. "Valhalla's magic horses? Perhaps they could power my ship?" The Wabbit thought long and hard. The engines hadn't been used in many years but the Wabbit knew a thing or two about ancient machinery. "Let's have a look at them. See what we can do." The duck settled in reverence beside the mummy. "She doesn't speak much, does she?" They turned to go. "Don't be so sure, Rufflesmuck," said a voice that shook every piece of concrete in the building.

3. The Wabbit and the Duck from Space

Still feeling annoyed, the Wabbit rounded up a couple of trucks and the only available member of Lapinette's personal guard. Fitzy and Mitzy had taken a vacation and only Tipsy remained. She helped the Wabbit out of the truck while Lapinette jumped out of the other one. The UFO was stuck fast in a shallow ravine in the Apennines. It smouldered a bit and produced a horrible smell like a burning dustbin. "Commander," said Tipsy. "Why so polite?" asked the Wabbit. "I'm turning over a new leaf," said Tipsy. She pointed to the UFO and to an emerging creature. "What are we going to do about that Son of a Duck?" Lapinette smiled. Tipsy's resolution hadn't lasted long. The duck strolled up and down, cursing. "I'm fried fungus fecklesmeck," he muttered. Tipsy was the first on the scene and she'd had to listen to the duck for some time. "That wing ding ducklesnuck just won't stop talking." The Wabbit looked round but he didn't approach the duck. "What planet do you think he's from?" Lapinette had an idea. "I've heard of the Strucken Duck Planet." The duck shook his head. Flames leapt around his body. "I didn't want to come to this forsaken spot!" The Wabbit decided to engage with the duck but the duck stepped back and fell over the edge of the ravine. Muffled cursing commenced. His head appeared. "Pull me up, this duck is double stuck." The Wabbit proffered a paw and the duck pulled himself back to the edge. "Are there more of you?" asked the Wabbit. "Not a one like me," said the duck. "My name is Rufflesmuck MacDuck from the Planet Fluck ...

2. The Wabbit and the Unidentified Object

The Wabbit and Lapinette watched the sun rise over the Apennines. They were up early and it seemed like a clever idea. They blinked. A strange object came flashing down and disappeared in the mountains. They blinked again. It was gone. "Did you see that?" asked Lapinette. "I did," replied the Wabbit, "It was a glowing cinder." Lapinette giggled. "A large glowing cinder." The Wabbit hunched and stuck his paw in his fur. "Hard to say, perspective being what it is." Lapinette stood her ground. "I'd say it was an extra-terrestrial object of some considerable dimension." The Wabbit shrugged. "Can't argue with that." Lapinette made a mental note of the size. "It went yonder," said the Wabbit. He pointed, screwed up his eyes and peered into the distance. "Whatever it was and wherever it went, it's doesn't seem to be coming back." Lapinette looked hard. "Is that a fire over there?" The Wabbit could be extremely annoying. "Difficult to say in this light," he said. As the sun rose, the scene lost its rosy glow. They heard a faint boom and saw smoke. "I love the smell of burning in the morning," muttered the Wabbit. "Worth investigating," said Lapinette. "Let's get the truck and reinforcements," snapped the Wabbit. Despite the early hour, they made their way out and across the city. "I hope it's not aliens," said the Wabbit, "I really can't be bothered." Lapinette grinned widely. "They'd be crispy fried ducks by this time." "Crispy fried duck aliens?" suggested the Wabbit. "They're the worst kind," said Lapinette.

[ETO by Buddy Nath at Pixabay]

 

1. The Wabbit and the Fake Facade

The Wabbit looked up. So did Lapinette. "Not going very quickly are they?" said the Wabbit. "On the balcony?" asked Lapinette. "Across the street," replied the Wabbit. Lapinette wondered whether the Wabbit was going for Old Age Pensioner status. "I expect the workers are all inside, beavering away," said Lapinette. "No," said the Wabbit, "They're all inside that bar, eating sandwiches." His tummy rumbled. "You're hungry," smiled Lapinette. She called for a waiter to bring a salad sandwich. The Wabbit nodded but he didn't give up. "We were here three months ago - and it was exactly the same." Lapinette grinned. "Some day we'll come here and it will be all finished." "Just like that?" asked the Wabbit. "Just like that," replied Lapinette. The Wabbit launched into a catalogue of dislikes which included bed and breakfast, fast food on bicycles and taxi services run by everyone and anyone. "We can't stand in the way of progress," sighed Lapinette. "I don't like the rigged economy," grumbled the Wabbit. "Gig economy!" shouted Lapinette. The Wabbit stopped winding Lapinette up. He shoved his paws in his fur. A cyclist bearing the legend Get Stuffed brushed against his back. "I rest my case," he said, "Let's eat in a proper restaurant." "It's only 11.am," said Lapinette. But there was no dissuading the Wabbit, even if he did have a sandwich. Lapinette tried to distract him. "What's our next Adventure going to be?" The Wabbit paused and grimaced. "A decent adventure!" 

The Wabbit and his Adventure Caffè

The team assembled at the Campagna Amica food market to go to the Caffè there. The Wabbit got there first and thought he would surprise Lapinette. He sidled behind a display of olive oil. "Boo!" he shouted. "Boo yourself," said Lapinette. She'd been there a while and had noticed the Wabbit hiding. Wabsworth hove in sight. He grinned. "You can't catch Lapinette out. She's too cute." Skratch meaowed from the back. "You don't get cuter." "Aw shucks," simpered Lapinette. The Wabbit sighed and gave up. "OK Skratch. You tell us what sort of adventure that was." Skratch meaowed and meaowed. "It was the most awful twaddle - but entertaining nonetheless." Wabsworth shook his head. "It was intelligible through meaninglessness, thus defining it as science fiction." Lapinette span around in a pirouette. "That's good coming from an advanced android such as yourself." "I'm not advanced, I'm state of the art," grumbled Wabsworth. "What art is that?" said the Wabbit. He nudged Lapinette. She pointed at Wabsworth. "He certainly looks the art." Skratch was not impressed by this tomfoolery. He got back to the subject. "Aliens are our default arch enemies. But are they not representations of ourselves and all our faults?" Wabsworth whacked his fist on a nearby table. "We never actually see the aliens. They are merely inferred through disembodied voices off." Skratch purred long and hard. "They are posited through absence. Nearly all Science Fiction uses that technique." The Wabbit grinned. "I'm feeling the absence of a glass of Prosecco!" Lapinette rose en pointe and sidled to the right. "Walk this way!" So they all rose on their toes and followed her to the bar.

5. The Wabbit and the Doomsday Gears

Quantum took them to the spot designated by Marshall Duetta. Duetta didn't come because that was a job for the Wabbit and Lapinette - and the truth was that they enjoyed it that way. The Gear Machine was assembled and clearly ready to shift. The Wabbit and Lapinette drifted through space bearing the shift passers. They took up positions on either side of the machine and watched the gears as they tried to throw the Earth irreversibly into reverse. The shift passers did their work. The gears span forward and on - and out of control. They began to separate. The machine began to disintegrate. Gears flew to right and left - if indeed there was a right and left in space. "Time to go," said Lapinette. Quantum pulled up alongside and took them on board. With a supersonic bang he put distance between them and the gears - and threw up a force field protecting Earth. "I thought you didn't have a force field, Quantum," muttered the Wabbit. "You're not the only one who attends night classes," quipped Quantum. On a planet light years away there was fury. There was talk about years of planning gone. People had been hired. Work had been done. Yet they had accomplished precisely nothing. "We'll get that Wabbit for this," said an alien. "How many years will that take?" said another. "Just as many as it takes," said another. The cry went up. "Kill the Wabbit! Kill the Wabbit!" Back on board Quantum, the Wabbit and Lapinette calmly sipped Proseccos. "Do you think they're annoyed?" giggled Lapinette. "Perhaps mildly put out?" suggested the Wabbit. "Maybe they should get a life!" said Quantum. Then they laughed and laughed and laughed.

[Gear machine: The Digital Artist at Pixabay] 

4. The Wabbit and the Relentless Gears

The Wabbit and Lapinette arrived with the only shaft passer they could muster. It was a purely hypothetical device which allowed a spoked wheel to rotate despite having a shaft passing between its spokes. Since it was Marshall Duetta's idea, the Wabbit was clueless for once. But Duetta thought the shaft could be employed when the Gears went into reverse. The Wabbit was sceptical. "These Gears haven't got spokes." Duetta vibrated. "They're on their way to an assembly yard, They'll marry up with the spoked wheels there. Then they'll locate and strike." As the Gears progressed through towards the gateway, Lapinette waved from the back. "They seem harmless." Duetta rattled her legs. "It's all operated remotely from a planet light years away. Nothing happens until after assembly and the job is complete. Then they will harvest our world by remote." The Wabbit tapped a Gear as it went by. It gave off a hollow sound. "I don't suppose a kaboom would destroy them?" Duetta laughed. "They'll just replicate. Our only hope is to alter the mechanism when it's underway." They watched the Gears make their way into space. He shook his ears. "If anyone can do it, we can." Lapinette shook a fist. "We'll shaft them and we'll shaft them good." The Wabbit knew all about shafts and torques and speed and he laughed. "Let them build their gear box." Lapinette laughed too. "What do you do with an enemy that has problems engaging?" "Rev the engine and slip the clutch?" grinned the Wabbit.

3. Marshall Duetta and the Gears of Space

Far away and unbeknown to the Wabbit and Lapinette, a gearwheel platform appeared in Earth's outer atmosphere. It sat there for a while before anything happened. Then with a whoosh, several satellite gear wheels appeared. They zoomed around like bees round a hive and started to chatter with each other - and with the mother gear. They spoke of Distant Lands and their Arc of Approach. They spoke of Thickness and Backlash. Most of all they spoke of Contact. It sounded like gibberish. But not to Marshall Duetta Spyder and her army of red spyders. They landed on the platform like the predators they were. They understood every word and communicated telepathically to one another. "Land on them," commanded Duetta. "All of you reduce size, make a landing and pretend to be non-threatening spider colonies." Her spiders obeyed and soon the space gears were crawling with tiny but lethal spiders. "Monitor their comms," commanded Duetta. Soon Duetta knew what they were up to. They were planning an invasion of earth and planned to put it in reverse gear. Forever. Duetta was a little distant from the Wabbit to speak with him telepathically, so she pulled a radio from beneath her abdomen. "Commander. Emergency. Code Red." Far off on Earth, the Wabbit's radio crackled. He knew who it was by its special buzz. He pulled it from his fur. "Marshall?" Duetta Spyder's vice was urgent. "We have a situation, off-planet." There was a brief silence. "Anything to do with gears?" said the Wabbit. "Indeed," said Duetta. "Come at once and bring a shaft passer."
[Background images: Earth is by NASA. Space platform is by quimono at Pixabay]

2. The Wabbit and the Gears from the Sky

The Wabbit was telling Lapinette about the gear wheel incident when it happened again. They were different gears, but gears nonetheless. They emitted a strange colour that bathed the city in an eerie post nuclear glow. Then they began to descend. The Wabbit and Lapinette both took out automatics and prepared to fire, but the gears didn't do anything. The Wabbit was furious. "They should do something," he raged, "Anything." Lapinette grinned. "They're the Hipsters of Gear World." The Wabbit was not impressed. "You've been reading too much Terry Pratchett." "That's Disc World," replied Lapinette. The first gear descended until it touched the Wabbit's face. "Get off!" yelled the Wabbit. He swiped at it. The second gear followed it down until it too touched the Wabbit. The third gear stayed above. "Soon we'll have enough for a whole gearbox," sulked the Wabbit. "They're shifty," nodded Lapinette. The first two gears began to ascend and they both merged with the remaining gear. Then they began to spin in opposite directions. They started to fade - and finally they vanished. The Wabbit shoved his automatic back in his fur. "They're infuriating." The city regained its proper colour and they both breathed easily. "You say they did this before?" asked Lapinette. "Yes, at the bus stop," huffed the Wabbit. Lapinette paused. "They never got out of second gear." The Wabbit thought for a long time. "Clutch problems?" That gave Lapinette an idea. "They don't have a reverse gear. They're stuck." The Wabbit threw back his head and laughed. "So there's no going back."

1. The Wabbit and the Deserted Bus Stop

The Wabbit hopped amiably towards the bus station at Via Paula. He knew he would find a bus and it wouldn't be long before it left. But the station was deserted. Not a bus in sight. He shrugged. "I'll have to wait," he murmured. He hadn't been there 5 minutes when he heard strange sounds of metal and asphalt. He turned his head. A gear wheel was grinding towards him. He turned the other way. Exactly the same. They weren't going too fast, but they made steady progress until they were nearly in the bus station. Something clicked in the Wabbit's brain. Lapinette had come across similar gear wheels in an old adventure and the Wabbit knew them as the Circles of Confusion. They got quicker. But the Wabbit noticed something important. They seemed to have no shadow. "These are ghost gears." All the same, the Wabbit stood back and let the gears collide. There was no sound. Just a silent meshing as they coalesced, combined and went on their separate ways. The Wabbit shook his head. Something told him they weren't going away. He watched them until they were out of sight and then he waited. Sure enough, they came round the corner again and clashed again. This time the cogs meshed and they continued together. They went around again and came back. The gears were bigger and stronger. Now they made a sound. Now they had shadows. They whirred and crunched their way along the asphalt and through the empty bus station. "They're no longer ghosts," shrieked the Wabbit. He climbed a pole to get out of their way and put a paw in his fur for his radio ... 

The Wabbit and his Adventure Caffè

The team gathered at the Piazza de' Ricci in Rome's bustling centre. The Wabbit had booked a table at Pierluigi's famous restaurant, so they knew they were in for a treat. "Been here since 1938," announced the Wabbit. "Did you really wait that long?" said Wabsworth with a smile. "Of course not," snorted the Wabbit, "I meant it was established in 1938." Wabsworth grinned. "With all your travelling in time, you never know." The Wabbit was about to lay out a small fortune on wine alone, so he kicked Wabsworth in the shins. Wabsworth was an android and felt nothing. Lapinette snickered. "Hello," shouted Skratch. He was late and made his usual entrance. "What was that for a sort of adventure?" The Wabbit clasped Wabsworth round the shoulders and said, "It was all about the money." Wabsworth took him at his word. "You mean it wasn't about the money!" Lapinette was feeling left out. "I think it's that money that's paying for this." The Wabbit burst out laughing. "Old money is paying for the restaurant. Very old money." Skratch laughed too. "Money stories don't strive for credibility." Lapinette was sanguine. "The money-grubbing influence of capitalism is always incredible" Skratch nodded. "Money is all pervasive. It's hard to avoid. But your story is strictly for the gullible, I'm afraid." The Wabbit felt in his fur for his cash because he could see the restaurant was getting the table ready. "I seem to have left my wallet at home," he said. "Don't worry," said Wabsworth, "I have it here." He'd been watching pickpocket films and had expertly extracted the Wabbit's money. He searched for his wallet in his fur, but it wasn't there. The Wabbit waved it aloft. "I took it back," he laughed. "That'll cost you, Wabsworth," said Lapinette. "You're getting the wine."

7. The Wabbit and the Notional Monies

The Wabbit and Lapinette tumbled gently down (or was it up?) at an Adventure Caffè. Arson Fire was taken short, and had gone to find a friendly tree. The effects of the Black Hole hadn't worn off and they were only now reassuming their normal size. The Wabbit looked at the sign. It asked whether he was worried. "I'm always worried," he grinned. It was an advertising poster for a Caffè. No matter where the customer started, they always ended back at the same answer - to have an aperitivo, and always there at Marco Ciampini's place. Lapinette laughed. "What are you worrying about now?" The Wabbit didn't hesitate. "I'm worried about my Dinosaur Fund. Now it's got nothing in it." Lapinette thought that was very funny. "There's always something in it." The Wabbit nodded. He knew at that very moment, overnight deposits across the globe groaned with money from his funds. "I'm never very certain it's there," he said. "I can't put my paws on it. It's always notional." Lapinette pirouetted and with a flash of her eyes ordered drinks from Marco, "Now we won't be worried." "You're never worried," grumbled the Wabbit. "Not true," replied Lapinette. "I worry about you and what you get up to." The Wabbit was appalled. "Me? I don't get up to anything." Lapinette gently reminded him of the time he became locked in a left luggage locker in a misguided attempt to catch a burglar. And the various things he invented in his shed that didn't quite work. "These were all accidents!" he gurgled. Lapinette smiled. "You have a lot of accidents!" The Wabbit huffed and puffed and struck a pose. "Like chance, accidents only favour the prepared mind!"

6. The Wabbit and the Great Big Dictator

There was no time to lose. A swirling entrance to a black hole appeared then within it an island floating in space. Beside the island stood a figure. The image was hazy at first but as the team worked it became more distinct. There had been a change of plan. The Wabbit dug in his fur for a gold aerosol he'd bought in a market. Lapinette produced gold jewellery and they started to fashion Bit Coins. Arson Fire joined in. These weren't strictly non fungible tokens but the Wabbit had the advantage of years of knowledge. The figure was now totally distinct. He spoke, "I am the Great Big Dictator of the Republic of San Serif." The Wabbit glanced at him but didn't stop working. "I'm sure I've seen you before." The Great Big Dictator chose to ignore this. "He who has the gold owns the future." He clicked his heels. The Wabbit had seen the Dictator's future and he smirked. "You're welcome to it." He waved at the Bit Coins and sent them spinning into the black hole. "This is future gold. I changed your old-fashioned bullion for them." A spark of interest showed in the Dictator's eyes. "How much are they worth?" "Much more than you think," said the Wabbit. "They're much more valuable than cash or gold. And investors mine their own business!" The Great Big Dictator clicked his heels again and shouted. "I asked how much are they worth?" The Wabbit shrugged. "Whatever you say they're worth." The Great Big Dictator began to pick up the coins. "Then Ja! I say they're worth a lot." Lapinette and Arson Fire yelled. "More than that!" The Dictator's image began to fade and so did the islands. His voice was faint. "I'm the Great Bit Dictator." The Wabbit smirked once more. "He got Bit Coin in 1977." Arson Fire nearly had a fit of hysterics. "He'll need a lot of energy."

[Thanks to NASA and Pixabay]

5. The Wabbit and the Tipping of Time

The change was as dramatic as it was sudden. Lapinette, the Wabbit and Arson Fire were all seized by an overwhelming force which tipped them backwards in time. No too far, but far enough. Clocks drifted across their vision, warping them into unbelievable shapes. Arson Fire was the worst affected. Fiery flames erupted from his bottom and narrowly avoided burning the Wabbit. "Yikes!" shouted the Wabbit. His voice slipped into the vortex. He could see it see it change shape. It solidified, then vaporised like the flaming fart from Arson' Fire's bottom. Lapinette yelled. "Where in time are we going?" The Wabbit watched hands whizz round on the misshapen clocks. Then he watched them whizz back. Sometimes they blurred. Sometimes they crawled. He muttered. "The devil's whipping us round the stump." The Wabbit was given to weird expressions. Arson Fire barked three times. "Well we won't pay for his time." Lapinette wasn't going to be outdone. "The devil speaks of time but I think time speaks of him." A rasping voice called in the darkness. "Where's that gold and where's its money?" They span faster but the clocks appeared stationary. The hands settled at 12.00. Something tried to move them on - but they refused to budge. They groaned like the pit and the pendulum. "I want the money," screamed the voice. The Wabbit felt in his fur and produced a safe deposit key. "Safe and sound," he said. "Under lock and key." The clocks reversed and the hands span in the opposite direction, faster and faster. Then, with a flash of blinding light, the Wabbit, Lapinette and Arson Fire found themselves deep in a concrete vault.

4. The Wabbit and the Temporal Force.

Voices called down to them and they froze. All except for the Wabbit. Their tone was stentorian. "Drop your weapons. Drop your weapons. This is not a drill. This is not a drill." The Wabbit was matter of fact. "They're not real. Nothing is real." The voices shouted again. "Return the money, give us the money. Or you will be terminated." The Wabbit spoke again. "These are robots. Robots." At the same time three helicopters rose into the air and hovered above them. "Drones," said the Wabbit. "Giant drones." Lapinette became exasperated. "Do you have to say everything twice?" "Twice?" asked the Wabbit. ""Grrrrr," growled Aron Fire. The Wabbit waved up at the soldiers and made a rude sign. They stepped back and one by one they vanished. "Told you," murmured the Wabbit. "They're not ghosts, they're controlled remotely." Lapinette shrugged. "They don't seem dangerous." The Wabbit shrugged too. "I think they are very dangerous, but not as we know it. They're controlled from a different temporal zone." Arson Fire was sceptical and woofed once. Sarcasm dripped from his voice. "You seem very knowledgeable, Wabbit." Lapinette was quick to set him straight. "He knows about weird stuff like that." The Wabbit nodded. "They're where the money comes from. They're trying to get a fix and the next time they'll do it." Lapinette looked pensive. "Will our trick still work." The Wabbit grinned. "It will for a while - by which time we'll have altered their time zone." "How do we do that?" asked Arson Fire. "With clocks and greasy butter," replied the Wabbit.

[Soldiers: Pexels at Pixabay]

3. The Wabbit and the Ghostly Gunfire

It was just as Lapinette envisaged. They were casually crossing St Peter's Square when they were caught in a barrage of gunfire. They ducked behind chairs and returned fire but couldn't see the enemy. Just faint muzzle flashes. "They're a long way off," shouted Lapinette. Arson Fire belched fire too - but couldn't quite get a bearing and only singed the seats. "Sniper," muttered the Wabbit. "Keep moving," yelled Lapinette, "so they can't get a bearing." They moved along the chairs and back, firing all the while. The shots kept coming. ""More than one," said Lapinette. She scuttled backwards and the fire sprayed out and along. "We're pinned down," said Arson Fire. "Shall I make a run for it? I'm rather fast." The Wabbit glanced back and forth. "Try for the pillars." Arson Fire darted to the pillars, then speeded back. He was a greyhound, and he could run. But gunfire followed him all the way. Chairs splintered. Concrete shattered. A bullet shaved fur from the Wabbit's ears. "I'll get you for that!" he shouted. Lapinette screened her eyes. The sun was fading and she could see silhouettes on the rooftops. "There they are!" But one by one they vanished. The gunfire stopped. Everything went back to normal. Tourists came and went as if nothing had happened. "Think they're are our guys?" asked Arson Fire. "They have to be money ghosts," said the Wabbit. "They're as ephemeral as our gold bullion." Lapinette tucked her automatic into her frock. "They're coming all the same. Arson, can't you remember the name of the dead dictator?" Arson Fire thought and thought. "Cacchio Scarsoni!" he shouted. "That's rude," shrieked Lapinette.

2. The Wabbit and the Numismatist

The Wabbit decided to take the gold to a safe place. There it would rest in his account. But as he began to move it, who should stroll in but Arson Fire the Greyhound. He seemed annoyed. Lapinette soothed him with a strong paw. "What are you doing with my gold?" he said. "Your gold?" echoed the Wabbit. "Yes, my gold," said Arson Fire gruffly. "I'm confused," murmured Lapinette.  Arson Fire's head nodded. "It's my hobby," he said. "I became a numismatist." The Wabbit smirked. "I've heard that one before. Confess!" Arson fire looked a bit shamefaced. "After our last adventure, I kept an eye on the Dinosaur Fund and I spotted some strange transactions." Lapinette laughed. "So you decided to make a collection?" Arson gnashed his teeth. "I deprived a few dictators of their ill-gotten gains." The Wabbit shrugged. He pulled a notebook from his fur, scribbled a receipt and passed it to Arson Fire - who ate it. "Which dictator?" Arson Fire barked twice. "I can't recall. I think he's dead now. So, the gold is mine, isn't it? It's worth six times what it was. I balanced the books and I get to keep the rest." Lapinette shook her head. "That's not the way it works. Someone is looking for this and they could be rather unpleasant." Arson Fire growled. "The dirty dogs!" The Wabbit stomped up and down, which he sometimes did when he was thinking. "We'll wait for them to show up." "And then?" said Lapinette. "We'll trick them!" Lapinette scowled. The Wabbit tried desperately to think of a trick and knew there was paper mache and gold paint in his shed. "We'll give it back." Lapinette knew exactly what the Wabbit had in mind. "Remember the Golden Rule." Arson Fire laughed. "The dog keeps the gold."

1. The Wabbit and Funds in Transit

The Wabbit had gone down to the vaults to check on his Dinosaur Fund that funded his more unorthodox missions. Details were kept in the cellars of the Department of Wabbit Affairs in a tiny deposit box. Just a few secret papers specifying where things were at any given time - in overnight deposit in the Post Office in Browne's Bottom, UK for all he knew. That was the way it worked. He'd just glance at the papers, look at the balance and go away. He took Lapinette to ensure no impropriety could be alleged. But he pushed open a door to find something extraordinary had occurred. They both gasped. The cellar contained more gold bullion than they'd ever seen in one place. He shook his head. "Is it dated?" Lapinette shrugged. "Might be a few years ago," She looked under a gold brick. "Yup," she said. "Dated 1977. But it's from the Bank of the Republic of San Serriff." The Wabbit didn't really believe it. He shook his head again. "I don't believe it." Lapinette scowled. She picked up typewritten paper clipped with a treasury tag. "Neither did anyone else. Here's a note to say it's in passage." At that very moment, a dollar bill fell from the ceiling, followed by several more. They were deluged with bills. Lapinette waved the notes. "This is a bill of lading. There are two other notes. A policy of insurance and an invoice. And here's the payment." The Wabbit tripped over Lapinette's feet and nearly measured his length on the floor. "Then everything is here, but nothing went anywhere." "Or rather it eventually arrived here," said Lapinette. "In the Department," said the Wabbit. "Yesterday," said Lapinette. "Where's it been?" asked the Wabbit. Lapinette shrugged again. "Nowhere?" "So we're in the money?" asked the Wabbit. Lapinette drew a sharp breath. "The Dinosaur Fund is in the money..."

[Background Picture: Mathias Wewering, Pixabay.]