"Congrats on the new place, Slick!" peppy Judy Hopps said to her vulpine partner across the table in the ZPD lunchroom.
Nick put down his Bug Burga and wiped his mouth with a napkin.
"Thanks Fluff. 'tho it's awfully lonely with just me there."
The two exchanged knowing looks and Judy smiled.
"Maybe I could come over this weekend?" she asked, "I know a certain fox who hasn't had a brushing in quite some time."
This brought a smile to Nick's muzzle as well and he said, "And I know a certain bunny who hasn't had a nice full-body massage in quite some time, too. Especially her taut little . . ."
Judy giggled. "Be good, now!"
"Call it Saturday at seven then?" Nick asked.
"It's a date!" was Judy's immediate reply.
After lunch, Nick took his customary walk past the front desk to chat with Clawhauser.
"Heya, Ben, what's the ups?" Nick asked.
"Tony dumped me," Clawhauser replied glumly.
Nick frowned sympathetically.
"Sorry; you two seemed so right for each other."
Clawhauser sighed and stared at his Gazelle snow globe. "I guess it's just me and a gallon of Hagen-Paws chocolate chunk ice cream this weekend."
Nick knew misery when he saw it, and being the soft-hearted kind, couldn't stand seeing it in his friends.
"Hey, listen," he said cheerfully, "I just got the new apartment - why don't you join Judy and I there on Saturday? We'll order a pizza, throw on a movie, heck, I'll even stock up on some Hagen-Paws!"
Ben looked up and some of the unhappiness drained from his expression.
"Are you sure?" he asked, actually showing some enthusiasm, "I mean, I wouldn't be a third wheel? I know you and Hopps . . ."
Nick raised his paw to cut the chatty cheetah off. "No problem at all. I'm sure Judy would be delighted to see you as well. Saturday at seven!"
"Thank, Nick, you're a real pal!"
Good deed done for the day, Nick smiled to himself and turned around - and then looked up.
"Oh, hey, it's Grizzoli and Fangmeyer," Nick said, addressing the much larger mammals looming over him.
"Party at Nick's?" the tiger said to the polar bear.
"Sounds like fun!" Grizzoli said back.
Nick grimaced and raised both of his paws, "Wait - it's not a party; it's just a little get-together with friends."
Fangmeyer and Grizzoli looked at each other, and then back at the fox.
"What, we're not your friends?" they asked in unison.
"No - I mean yes! - it's just, ummm . . ." Nick stammered, and then realized no good deed goes unpunished.
The pair glared at him.
"Saturday at seven," Nick conceded. "Please don't tell anyone else."
After his beat, Nick trudged back to his cube and sat down in front of his computer. Six messages were waiting for him, all of which had "party" in the title. He closed his eyes and muttered, "Maybe I'll get stomach flu on Saturday."
When he opened them again, he realized he was encircled in shadow: a big shadow. The kind of shadow a Cape Buffalo would throw if he were standing behind a fox.
"Chief?" Nick asked hesitantly.
"What's this I hear about a party at your place this weekend?" the buffalo asked.
At that moment, Penny walked up.
"Party?" the elephant asked, "At Nick's?"
Bogo nodded and said, "And he didn't even have the decency to tell his boss."
Nick shrunk down in his chair and ventured, "I was saving the best for last?"
Bogo snorted.
"Saturday at seven," Nick said, defeated.
"Hey, is your little fox friend going to be there?" Penny asked.
Nick blinked.
"Finnick?" he asked uncertainly.
"Yeah - he's cute!"
"I hadn't plaaaaaaned on him being there," Nick said before Penny bent over and poked him in the chest with her trunk.
"He's CUTE!" she emphasized with a couple of more pokes.
Nick forced a smile and said, "I'm sure he wouldn't miss it for the world."
"Hey, Finnick, I'm having a little party at my place this Saturday; you know that elephant you like?" Nick was whispering into his phone when Judy walked up. She stopped and crossed her arms while staring daggers at him.
"No, no - not a rager," Nick continued. Judy's eyes narrowed.
"Finnick, a LITTLE party; not like that time -"
Judy was tapping her foot on the floor.
"Look, Saturday at seven; I gotta go!"
Turning off his phone, Nick looked at Judy and smiled wanly.
"Now, Fluff, this wasn't my fault," Nick stammered
"Don't you 'Fluff' me, Nicholas P. Wilde!" Judy lit into the off-balanced fox.
"Look, there's been a little change of plans, just a little one," he tried to recover.
"A romantic evening: just you, me and the entire precinct! Oh, and your little buddy, Finnick, too." Judy all but snarled, if a bunny could snarl.
But Nick was a fox, and he knew his way out of any trap.
"And where will they all be? In my apartment. And where will you and I be? Alone in the roof garden, admiring the view of the city, the stars . . . and each other," he said, his most winning smile gracing his muzzle. "A couple of glasses of wine, some shoulder rubs, and maybe even ear-licks; who cares what the raging horde downstairs are doing? We'll be in our own little world."
Judy's ire subsided. She smiled.
"Nice save, Slick."
Nick smiled proudly, and then felt a clap on his back.
"Hey, Nick, I heard you were -" a voice from behind him said.
Nick closed his eyes and said, "Saturday at seven."
By the time Saturday rolled around, Nick was sure half of Zootopia had heard about the party. He spent the morning hiding anything expensive or breakable in his bedroom, then the afternoon trying to figure out if his lease covered nailing the bedroom door shut. His anxiety grew as the hour drew near.
"Ok, just a little party; a few dozen friends: what's the worst that can happen?" he asked himself.
BZZZZZZZZT!
Nick almost jumped out of his fur when the door buzzer went off. He looked at the monitor and saw it was Judy. He opened the door.
Judy stood there dressed in a low-cut black sequin dress that hugged her curves like a mountain road.
Nick's jaw dropped.
Judy giggled, and then spun around. If the dress was low-cut in front, it was positively scandalous from behind: the cut dipped down almost all the way to her bottom, exposing the small of her back. She pushed Nick's jaw back up with her finger and said, "Easier access for when we're on the roof," in a sultry voice.
Nick swallowed, hard.
Tracing her finger down from Nick's jaw, over his throat, and then to his chest, Judy said, "And it'd better be EVERYTHING you said it is, or else the only date you're going on next week is going to be with Foxy Palmer and her four sisters."
He ignored the cold chill that ran up and down his spine and instead said, "Carrots, you haven't a thing to worry about: I've got this completely under -"
BZZZZZZZT!
"GAAAAAAAH! (ahem) - control."
It was Clawhauser at the door. Nick ushered him in as well.
Over the next hour, guests arrived by dribs and drabs, heralded by the heart-stopped rasp of the door buzzer. Polite conversation filled the air as folks mingled. Nick opened a bottle of mead wine for Judy and grabbed a Bore's Ale for himself. He was feeling proud of himself: everything was under control, everything was going to be just fine.
Much later on, during the proceedings of Antelope Tower Apartments v. Nicholas P. Wilde et al, this was the exact point to which Nick wished he could return with a time machine. He would stand there, looking at himself wearing that smug fox grin, surrounded by guests and a complete lack of renter's insurance. He would admire himself and his absolute certainty. Then he would punch himself square in the face.
BZZZZZZZT!
Nick looked at the screen: the first of "et al", in the personages of Grizzoli and Fangmeyer, had arrived. They carried many bags. Nick let them in.
"Nick!" Fangmeyer said boisterously, slapping the fox on the back, "we brought you some party favors!"
Nick curiously looked into the bags as they were set on the granite-top kitchen island.
"Is that Senior Jose Hangover's 'Almost Agave' tequila?" he asked with concern. "We busted them last year when mammals started finding roaches in that stuff."
"They claimed it was a promotion and got off with a $50 fine. Besides, it was on-sale: buy two, get five free. I think the store trying to get rid of it before another bottle explodes," Fangmeyer said.
Nick cautiously opened one of the bottles and took a sniff; the miasma of half-fermented socks filled his nose and he coughed hard.
"You ok, Nick?" Judy asked from behind him.
He turned around, still holding the bottle. Judy's eyes opened wide and a single whiff was enough to make her retch.
"Oh, no," she said in alarm, "not THAT stuff again!" before bolting off.
Nick squinted at the minute type at the bottom of the label: "May be harmful if swallowed - kids, get your parents' permission first! No longer kosher for Passover."
"Oy vey," Nick noted, then turned to the bear and tiger, "ONE bottle, period. This stuff is a bum fight waiting to happen."
SEVERAL HOURS LATER
The stars in their multitude sparkled over the lights of Zootopia. Nick and Judy sat on a bench, surrounded by grape-vines and fuchsias, admiring the view from the roof garden. More accurately, Nick sat and Judy lay on her side with her head on Nick's lap. The fox lazily scritched between Judy's ears, looking for just the right spot.
"Nick, it's beautiful. You were right, this is - ooOOOOOOoo!"
He'd found it.
"Mmmm, riiiiight there," Judy cooed, taking a deep breath.
Nick kept scritching, feeling immensely proud of himself.
"You did it, Slick. I had my doubts, but you really came through in the end."
Nick chuckled softly and said, "Oh ye of little faith. We're up here, they're down there and Finnick has everything under control."
"You know what would make this perfect, Nick? If a certain fox were to say something sweet and romantic to me," Judy sighed blissfully.
"Hey, NICK! Some jackass clogged the CRAPPER!"
Finnick exited the elevator, looking left and right.
Nick closed his eyes and flattened his ears as every bit of his happiness evaporated.
"This isn't happening, this isn't happening, this isn't happening . . ." he muttered to himself, then opened his eyes again.
Judy's glare was murderous.
"Oh, you bet your little foxy tail it is," she said in a voice that would make liquid nitrogen seem warm.
"I think it was one of those hippos - fox toilets just aren't built to take that kinda load!" Finnick continued.
Nick grimaced, then grinned meekly at Judy as he pointed to himself and shook his head, then in Finnick's direction and nodded.
"Oh," Judy said, smiling her best "guess what you're not getting for the next 10 years?" smile, "it's Finnick's fault. That makes me feel all better. I guess I'll go down and enjoy the party while a certain red-furred mongrel gets to worry about all the different ways his partner can get even with him. Have fun, Nick."
"Judy, wait!" Nick called after her as she casually walked back to the elevator.
As the elevator doors closed, Nick groaned and rubbed his temples.
"This can't get any worse," he said as Finnick ran up.
"Nick, I gotta tell you something else!" the little fox said frantically.
EXCERPT from Antelope Tower Apartments v. Nicholas P. Wilde et al:
13. Mr. Wilde, can you identify the item marked exhibit 2?
14. NW: That would be a flash-bang.
15. And what is this item used for?
16. NW: Uh, it's used to stun belligerents.
17. And how does it do that?
18. NW: It explodes with a loud bang and -
19. Let the record show that Mr. Wilde identified exhibit 2 as an explosive.
"He WHAT?!" Nick sputtered in exasperation.
"It seemed like a good idea at the time," Finnick explained.
20. Mr. Wilde, what would happen if you flushed said item down the toilet?
21. NW: I'm not a plumber; I don't know.
22. Would it, perhaps, send a fountain of water - and other matter - blasting out of every toilet in the building?
23. NW: Maaaaaaaaybe . . .
Opening the door to his apartment, Nick found the party was in full throat. Loud conversations and boisterous laughter filled the over-packed living room and the kitchen was standing-room only. A collection of empty Jose Hangover bottles huddled together in the middle of the kitchen island while half-full bottles were passed around joyously. Oddly, despite the din, a certain sound caught Nick's ear above all else:
Clack.
Clink.
"Drink!"
He recognized Judy's voice, but the other two sounds made no sense to him. He pushed that to the back of his mind as he forged forward towards the bathroom, pushing mammals aside as he went. Finnick followed close behind. Finally, he reached the bathroom door. It was open a crack but the light was off inside. With a heavy sigh, he pushed open the door and turned on the light.
A perfectly clean and tidy bathroom greeted him. He blinked, then cautiously stepped over to the toilet and flushed it. A powerful rush of water filled the bowl. Nothing exploded. Turning towards Finnick, Nick was about to say something when the fennec cut him off.
"Master bedroom crapper," Finnick explained.
"What were people doing in my bedroom?!" an exasperated Nick asked.
"What's that fat cheetah's name?" Finnick asked.
"Clawhauser."
"Yeah, him and some tiger were making out in this bathroom and McHorn had to throw up and I know you wouldn't want him barfing over the patio railing, especially after Higgins already did that and . . ."
Nick whimpered and began the walk to his bedroom.
Clack
Clink
"Drink!"
He ignored the curious sound and walked into his bedroom. Grizzoli and Fangmeyer were standing by the bathroom door.
"Hey, Nick," the polar bear said, "We're really sorry."
"It worked when I saw it on a EweTube video," Fangmeyer explained.
Nick ignored both of them and walked up to the bathroom door. It, too, was ajar but mostly because it was somewhat off his hinges. He gave the door a little push and it refused to budge.
"Push with your shoulder," Grizzoli recommended.
With nothing left to lose, Nick put his shoulder into the door, which instantly gave way and fell into the bathroom with a crash.
"There ya go!" Grizzoli said.
Nick glared at him for a moment, then he got whiff of the bathroom. This mind scrambled to determine what could possibly reek so badly, but the possibilities were all too alarming to contemplate.
"Should I even turn the light on?" Nick asked.
The tiger and the bear solemnly shook their heads "no" at the same time.
"Nick, what you need is a drink," Grizzoli said sympathetically.
"A drink, Nick," Fangmeyer added kindly.
The trio waded their way back to the dining room. Nick stared at the floor as he approached his dining room table.
"Yeah, a drink, Nick," he heard Judy say, and not in a kindly way. He looked up and saw she was seated across the table from him. A single shot glass occupied the middle of the table and Judy was holding a quarter.
"Don't do it, fox!" an unfamiliar ocelot drunkenly slurred from the floor under the table. "13 in a row - she never misses!"
Nick instantly knew what the setup was.
"Have a seat," Judy said as she gestured to the chair across the table from her. The smile gracing her face was one he'd seen before and never liked - it was the one she wore when he was in trouble and she held all the cards (or quarters). Normally, this meant he was at her tender mercies, but not tonight. Tonight, he knew she'd go for blood. Hers was not the bunny face of mercy; hers was the scowling lapin look of revenge. She had him trapped and was going to make him pay. But Nick was a fox, and he knew his way out of any trap.
"Quarters?" Nick asked.
Judy nodded with a wicked smile.
"My brothers taught me to play for shots of carrot juice."
"I think my good friends Grizzoli and Fangmeyer should play, too! The more the merrier!" Nick said, looking in their direction. The pair sat down on either side of the fox.
Judy flicked the coin against the table.
Clack.
Clink.
"Drink, Nick," she said, motioning her head at the shot glass full of Jose's.
Nick looked at the shot with dread. "Um, you know I'm not a big drinker," he said nervously.
Judy leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms.
"I heard Jack Savage is in town. I wonder what he's doing next weekend?" she asked.
"Oh, you little . . ." he thought to himself and quickly added that to her tab.
Nick instantly slammed back the shot - and just as instantly regretted it. The taste was a cross between painter-thinner and rancid milk. His mouth and throat both burned like the fires of Hell; he clenched his eyes shut and slapped his palm against the table as he choked and gagged.
"Ok, ok," he gasped, "I had a nice drink; I think it's time for me to go."
Clack.
Clink.
"Drink, Nick."
Nick whimpered as Grizzoli poured another shot. Looking up at Judy, his eyes begged mercy. Judy just smiled back. She knew what she had him by and it was time to squeeze.
Hesitantly, Nick knocked back the second drink. He'd hoped the effect would have been dulled, but if anything, it was twice as bad as the first shot. As horrible as it was, he knew he had to endure it if he wanted out of Judy's trap, and he did through two more shots. Then it was time to make his move.
Judy smacked the quarter down, it bounced - and then flew completely over the glass.
"You bumped the table with your knee," Judy said accusingly.
"It was an accident," Nick explained, slurring his words a little.
"I guess it's only fair you get a turn," she said with a chuckle and handed the coin to him. Nick fumbled the quarter and dropped it on the table.
"Oops," he said with a lop-sided grin.
"This should be fun," Judy said smarmily.
Nearly cross-eyed and half-way loopy, Nick unsteadily aimed the quarter.
"Aim for the glass in the middle," Judy said, clearly enjoying herself.
Clack.
Clink.
Nick smiled at the smug bunny across the table.
"Drink," he said simply.
Judy picked up her wine glass. Nick shook his head and pointed to Grizzoli.
"Lucky shot," Judy said as Grizzoli downed his drink.
Clack.
Clink.
"Mr. Fangmeyer, please enjoy a shot of Jose," Nick said. "I used to play quarters with Finnick all the time, only we didn't play for carrot juice."
Judy's smug smile vanished, replaced by a look of dread.
So it began. Turn after turn, Nick's shots hit the glass perfectly and he directed the bear and tiger to drink until Fangmeyer bolted to the bathroom and Grizzoli slid off his chair and joined the ocelot under the table.
Nick smiled foxily at the rabbit seated across the table from him.
"Now, Nick," she said nervously, "I think we can work this out like adults."
Clack.
Clink.
"Drink."
Judy picked up her wine glass and Nick shook his head. He pointed at the shot glass.
She poured a shot and looked at it sourly.
Nick made a little 'drink' motion with his hand.
Judy knocked back her shot. The taste instantly reminded her of the margaritas at the Zootopia ballgame and she fought to keep the liquid down.
Thrice more the quarter clinked into the glass. Thrice more, Judy knocked back the hellish liquor. Her stomach roiled and finally, as Nick was getting ready to bounce the quarter again, she raised her paws.
"Truce?" he asked the woozy rabbit.
"Truce," she replied with an urp.
"Then we're . . . even?" he asked.
"We're even," she said, the insides of her ears turning a sickly shade of green.
"How about we get some air?" he asked, gesturing towards the patio.
Judy sprinted to the sliding glass door and threw it open. Nick wobbled along behind her.
The two stood on the balcony for a few hours, regaining their composure and re-acquainting themselves with sobriety.
Slowly, the sun rose. The party quieted as Zoober made a small fortune carrying partiers back home.
"I'm sorry, Nick," Judy said, "I guess I was a bit of a, well, bad bunny. I would never even consider going out with Jack."
Nick smiled and asked, "You know what happens to bad bunnies, right?"
Judy giggled a little.
"If I ask nicely, will you show me?"
"Trust me, it'll be a lot nicer than what the HOA is going to do to me when they see the bathroom. Or hear the noise complaints. Suffice it to say I'm going to be living under a bridge again for the foreseeable future."
Judy patted Nick's paw and said, "Or you could ask a certain bunny a certain question."
Nick laughed warmly.
"Can I stay at your place?"
Judy hmm'd and tapped her chin.
"It'll cost you: at least three brushings and a full-body massage. A nice massage, too, not one where you get all handsy. At least not at first."
"Party at Judy's place?" Fennick said suddenly from behind them, "I'll call Penny and Yax!"
Nick and Judy looked at each other, then down at Finnick.
"Wait!" stammered the diminutive fox as the rabbit and fox advanced on him, "I'll just call Penny . . . no, NO! WAIT! HEY!"
EXCERPT from Antelope Tower Apartments v. Nicholas P. Wilde et al
1433. When the Zootopia Fire Department arrived on-scene at approximately 6:00am, what did they find?
1434. HOA: That our beloved Zootopia flag had been replaced by a squalling fennec hoisted up the flagpole by his underwear.
1435. And is there any explanation for how the aforementioned fennec ended up in such a predicament?
1436. HOA: When he was asked, he replied (and we quote), "Go [REDACTED] yourselves you [REDACTED] [REDACTED] [REDACTED]! You can stick this flagpole up your [REDACTED] twice!"
MANY WEEKS LATER
"In the case of Antelope Tower Apartments v. Nicholas P. Wilde et al, I find that the damage done to the bathroom was strictly the fault of Mr. Fangmeyer; the Antelope Tower Apartments' HOA should pursue him for the remediation of $22,800. Further, there is no evidence to link Mr. Wilde to the hoisted fennec as said fennec absconded before anyone could get his name or an accurate accounting of his situation. Therefore, the rescue charge of $500 from the ZFD is exclusively the responsibility of the Antelope Tower Apartments' HOA. As for the 152 noise complaints generated by Mr. Wilde's party, I find this matter to be the purview of the ZPD, so let them deal with it. In short, if any of you mammals show up in my courtroom again, my displeasure will be manifest. Case dismissed."
Judy looked at Nick in utter disbelief as he finished reading the settlement aloud.
"Good luck getting 22 large out of Fangmeyer. He's so cheap that if you said 'Your money or your life' he'd have to think about it," Nick chuckled.
"And the noise complaints?" Judy asked.
"Bogo assigned those to me to deal with and I'm almost done with them: they're amazingly soft and absorbent!"
"Oh, ha-ha . . . and ew," Judy said, wrinkling her short snout.
"Besides, you made out pretty well on the whole thing, Fluff! You gained a wonderful roommate."
"Who leaves the seat up, snores, uses my toothbrush, eats all my food, doesn't wash dishes and certainly hasn't volunteered to help cover - ooOOOOOOOOoo!"
"And who knows exactly the right spot to scritch on a bunny's head."
"You have exactly two hours to stop doing that, Slick. And you're paying full rent this month."
"I know three other spots that you'll like," Nick offered.
"Half?"
"Two of which I've never showed you before."
"A quarter?"
"One of which is located right above your cute little . . ." Nick whispered the rest to her.
"10 bucks and you'll start putting the seat down," Judy replied in a choked voice. "Oh, and NO more parties!"
"Deal," Nick said.