A/N: I don't know if I'll ever write something as personal as "I Don't Get It" again. It might be years before I have the nerve to try. Until I get there, let's have an unusual adventure with the unlikeliest of heroes.

BIG THANKS TO MY COVER ARTIST "WastedTimeEE"! I can assure, despite the name, this artist is not a waste of time. I mean, have you seen the cover art for this story yet? It's beautiful! Oh, majestic!

CA$H ONLY
Chapter 1: U₱ ₣RON₮
By: I Write Big

The adult tiger hugged the child weasel tightly. Around the pair, a crowd of supportive mammals applauded the public display of love. Their adventure together had been taxing and arduous but, at last, they could be a family.

"You were right, Gloria," the weasel said to her, holding the feline's fluffy cheeks, "I just had to be myself."

"Christ almighty," Duke Weaselton felt like he was going to be sick.

"Shh!" the pig in the row behind him hissed while leaning forward. Her girth shoved Duke's chair, nearly popping his soda out of the cup holder.

He gave the fat broad a look and settled in for the last of the movie, "Don't be mad at me, lady. Ya paid for dis trash," he whispered. Duke had always pondered what lonely housewives saw in this dreck. He wasn't generalizing. He counted at least forty wedding bands in the audience. All of them on broads with an empty chair next to them. At first he thought they were fantasizing about adopting a weasel like the one in the flick. If that pig was anything to go off of, then hell no. Maybe it was the love tale. Then where are the hubbys? Shouldn't they be here taking notes? Couldn't be the 'be tolerant of others' bull. That's grade school level shit. Hell, it was as cliche as it got. And of course a weasel was typecasted as the tough, rude kid from the streets. Can't get too crazy and make them the hero. Well, it didn't matter. These suckers shelled out for the garbage and he was getting his cut.

"Sir, could you please come with me?"

Duke looked up at the puma usher. Her eerily reflective eyes were the only signs of her existence since her black fur was hidden in the dark theater. "Da hell? I'm watchin' a movie here!"

"Shh!"

"Let's not make a scene, sir. Just come with me."

"What, ya think cuz I'mma weasel I didn't pay?" He waved his 'ticket stub' in her snout wildly enough so she wouldn't be able to see it was actually a gum wrapper, "And here's da receipt for da soda too while you're at it." A used tissue. "Satisfied, cat?"

The usher wasn't fazed and pointed to the other cup holder, "Did you pay for the camera, as well?"

Duke turned to his moneymaker. The recording phone pointed at the screen was exposed. The monopod holding it up made it stand out like a lighthouse. The popcorn bucket with a hole in the side that he had tactfully placed over the phone now laid on the floor.

"Dat? Naw, dat's my, uh, my, uh… ugh, forget it."

He spun in his chair and threw his icy soda in the usher's face.

"AAAHH!"

"Shh!"

That was Duke's cue. The weasel grabbed his bootlegging equipment and scampered towards the exit. Not quick enough though. The soaked and shivering puma jumped over him and landed on all fours in the doorway. In that moment, Duke saw something. Something that made him realize this was no regular minimum wage movie usher he could simply outrun. Wrapped around the broad's finger was a ring of gold.

He gulped, "Housewife..."

The weasel changed course and dove into the chairs. Between the legs he burrowed his way. A chorus of yelps, squeals and shushes marked his path. Finally, he ran out of cover and found himself in the back row. The puma was already running along the seats towards him. He had no place to go… but up.

Taking firm hold of the decorative curtains hanging from the ceiling, he scaled towards the projector window. He felt a tug and dared to looked down. The puma's claws tore the thick fabric, but she was right on his tail.

Prying the window open with the monopod, Duke slipped into the projector room. He slammed the window shut, only for a meaty paw to smash through it. He gaped as the claws pulled the shattered frame to the side.

"Are ya on Night Howler?! It's just a movie!"

"The most beautiful, heartfelt, honest movie of our time!" she screamed back.

"Shh!" hushed a watcher down below.

"And I'm not gonna let some dirty, wily, little weasel ruin that for the rest of us!" she hefted her body inside with a guttural growl.

Duke rushed to the door, but there was a keypad, "Shit!"

"Nowhere left to run," her voice returned to the calm professional tone. "Now, sir, please hand over that phone." She held out her bleeding paw.

He frowned deeply as he raised the device, "Ya know what, ya oughta be in da pictures!"

KER-FLASH!

The sudden bright light from his phone blinded the poor puma. She reeled back covering her burning eyeballs, howling to the sky. Duke ducked under her arms, his sights on the broken window. Escape!

Something snagged on the shoulder strap of his wifebeater and both he and the usher tumbled into the film projector.

On screen, "Gloria," the young weasel star whispered, "I was wondering… can I call you mom—" the film jumped and the sound warped, "MmMI'm shaRKTually in Dovel wIt shsiSEtr!?"

The movie ended.

"...Is that it?"

"Shh! Wait for the after credits scene."

Duke slumped against the steel table. Whoever designed this furniture clearly hadn't taken comfort into consideration. At least the cold metal numbed his bruises. Really anything would be more comfortable than looking back at the do-goody cottontail copper currently giving him the stinkeye of disappointment. Duke could deal with coppers harassing him, making the occasional speciesist insult under their breath. But each time he was booked, this bunny always pulled him aside for a stern talking to about how he needed to improve himself and shit like she was his mother or something. The interrogation room door opened and that orange-furred turncoat sauntered in and said, "Got the scissors."

"'Bout damn time, Wilde," Duke whined. He held out his arms which looked like they now had sleeves made of film.

The bunny cleared her throat, "What are we gonna do with you, Weselton?"

"Weaselton! Ya know it's Weaselton!" He wanted nothing more than to throttle her with those long ears of hers, but the slicing metal running up his forearm made him think twice.

"He's right, Carrots. You should know by now. We've only arrested him like, what, seven times?"

"Seventeen." The annoying fluffball opened his file, "Eleven counts of petty theft, three counts of disturbing the peace, two counts of selling illegal goods and one count of pirating 'Love Comes Fur Me.'"

Wilde snickered as he inspected a frame of film that pictured a kissing couple, "Jeez, Duke, didn't take you for a hopeless romantic."

"It's what da customers want!" Duke swiped his arms at him, "What's with da routine? Slap me on da wrist and lemme outta here already!"

The fox's smirk vanished and he took a seat next to the bunny, "Can't do that, Duke."

"At this point, you're considered a repeat offender. You are clearly showing no sign of stopping," the bunny shut the folder and looked at him with a surprising amount of sympathy… or was that pity? "On their own, these offenses would only get you fines and community service. But stacked? Judge can give five to ten years, minimum."

Duke's eyes bugged out of their sockets and his throat went dryer than a camel jogger in Sahara Square. "Five to ten? Ya serious?! What kinda rigged system is dis—" He stopped as he realized what she was getting at. "...What do ya want?"

Both of the coppers smiled.

"Simple," Wilde stirred his coffee, "Who's hiring you?"

"Hirin'? Do I look like an idiot? Ya think I'm takin' jobs again after dat Night Howler fiasco?"

Wilde kept stirring, never taking his lazy yet piercing gaze off Duke. The scrape of metal against porcelain rubbed Duke's ears in a bad way. "Maybe… be a pretty crazy coincidence you robbing a printer supply warehouse the same exact time as two other small time crooks on the other side of the city." Several photos slid across the metal. Each were security stills of Duke and a couple of mammals Duke had never seen before. They were all on their own, running out of different buildings with identical printers in their arms.

Duke tried to stop himself from laughing nervously like the guilty guy that he was, "Okay, so, I am takin' jobs again. But if ya two know me as well as ya think ya do, then ya know I only did it for da cash! Whatever they're up ta, I ain't a part of it!"

The bunny folded her arms on the table with a smug smile, "And you don't have to be. Last time, we forced a name out of you because we were desperate. This time, we're offering a deal."

Duke's ears perked. He liked where this was going.

"Give us a name and we'll wipe your record clean."

Duke waited for her to continue, but it seemed she was already waiting for his answer.

"What… What, dat's it? Ya can't be serious!" The bunny couldn't find a way to respond. Probably due to her tiny brain Duke reasoned. He turned to the fox, thinking the once fellow criminal would be straight with him. "Wilde, she ain't serious, is she?" He only shrugged, not showing any surprise. Duke rubbed his brow in frustration, "Listen, ya know-nothin' cottontail, how 'bout a real offer? I'm gettin' five ta ten years, minimum? Den let's say five ta ten thousand bucks, minimum!"

The bucktooth flapped her stupid mouth several times before actual words tumbled out, "You-I-you-we're offering you a fresh start! A new lease on life! The freedom to be the mammal you always wanted! You can't put a price on that!"

"Just did." It was Duke's turn to fold his arms with a smug smile. This copper ain't got nothing.

She hopped onto the table with fire in her eyes. Her once timid voice rang with fury, "You think you have a choice?! You're stuck here until we drag you to court and sentence you to the big house! You cannot make bail!"

Duke shrank under the scary bunny's glare.

Wilde sipped his coffee.

The door cracked open, "Um… Judy?"

"WHAT?!" she yelled at the chubby cheetah.

"Mr. Weaselton just made bail. He's free to go."

Duke blinked. He hadn't even asked how much his bail was, let alone try to pay it. He looked at his two interrogators. The bunny's ears, arms and entire upper body had gone slack in sheer shock. Even Wilde managed to raise an interested eyebrow. Signs that this was for real.

"Would ya look at da time, coppers. I gotta be goin' but thanks for da offer." He strutted to the door with nobody stopping him. He gave the cat a pat, "Good job on da name, pal. Most here get it wrong."

Judy could only watch as her entire plan went up in smoke.

Nick swallowed the last of his joe, "Clawhauser, who paid?"

The messenger wrung his paws, "That's the thing..." he pulled out an envelope bulging with cash. He had taken the initiative to seal it in an evidence bag. "It just came in the mail."

On the package's face were the typed words, 'For the weasel. Keep the change.'

Whoever his mysterious benefactor was, Duke didn't care. There wasn't anymammal waiting for Duke outside, no mysterious black van, no manilla envelope with his name written in headlines. Only the open sky and fresh air.

Duke drank it all in with a toothy grin and said, "Welp, time ta jump da border."

'Bug Out Plan' was a term he first heard on 'Clawing Bad.' Duke had put one together for himself more to feel to cool than to be prepared. Still, it was actually paying off. There was zero chance those two coppers were gonna let this slide. Zootopia had been nice while it lasted. But if the ZPD wanted to put him away, then he needed to go where the ZPD couldn't reach him: South.

With a hop, skip and a jump, Duke arrived at his run-down slum of an apartment. The air conditioner never worked and he had to steal the wi-fi from the Bugga Burger next door, but the landlord was the kinda wallabee who kept his trap shut as long the rent was paid and Duke always paid early. No need to worry about him pointing the coppers in Duke's direction. Duke tossed all six of his shirts in a grocery bag. He kicked open his broken fridge and pulled out a twelve pack of Phull Muun: the worst brew known to mammalkind. Not even the homeless touched this rancid stuff. Which made it the perfect bank. Every cent he had ever made was stuffed in these bottles. Duke knew better than to trust his cash with real banks. Those suit-wearing, greedy CEO assholes robbed their dumb customers more than actual bank robbers. He broke one bottle in the sink and counted the roll of hundreds inside.

"Yeah, dis'll be plenty ta set me up."

A rumble caught his attention. On his phone screen was just one word: Unknown. With a groan, he answered, "Not interested."

A throaty chuckle responded, "I see the bail was accepted without question."

"Dat was you, Horn? Thanks, I owe ya. At least, I would owe ya if I wasn't on my way South."

"Slow yourself, Duke," the soothing accented voice said; the same voice that had sent him to grab those printers which put him in this very situation. Never got a face to go with the voice, but Duke imagined he was huge, like a rhino or a moose. Would match the fake name he used. "That was a gift for all your hard work and I wish you the safest of travels. Still, I feel I would be remiss not to offer you one last departing job to aid you on your new life."

Duke lost count of how many hundreds he held and growled. "Forget it, I got less dan an hour before dey start tailin' me. I'm done." He hanged up. While Horn had been a reliable source of income, his high and mighty attitude always rubbed Duke the wrong way. Felt good to say no. Duke stomped towards the bathroom only to trip. Rolling on his back, he found one last strip of film knotted around his ankle. "Terrific..." He began sawing with an old plastic knife when the phone rang again. "Ugh..."

"Come now, Duke, be reasonable. I do not wish to impede you from going South. I am simply requesting you take an item with you. Think of this final job like a postal delivery."

"Then buy a stamp!" Click.

Ring.

"Listen, Horn—"

"Triple."

Duke's grip on the dull utensil softened.

"In cash, as always. I'll even lend you a vehicle. One that shan't draw unwanted attention."

Duke's eyes drifted to the first movie frame hanging from his foot. It showed the mommy tiger embracing her new weasel son. The sky around them was angelic, perfect, fake. A big fat lie that was stuck on there tight. It could take all day to cut it off. Duke didn't have time to think it over. He had to leave now.

"When do I get paid?"

"On the other side, Duke. On the other side."

Judy couldn't stop fidgeting. Her ears flopped every minute. Her nibbling teeth threatened to chew through her lips. Her nose looked like it was about to twitch off her face.

"Carrots, calm down," Nick advised while waiting for the elderly sloth to finish crossing. The guy was about a third of the way across the lane. If Judy thought Flash was slow, this guy was practically a living statue!

"Calm down? You want me to calm down?" she twisted her seatbelt, "We've been chasing this gang for months with nothing to show for it! Every other thief involved has vanished before we could get to them! Our last and only lead has a thirty minute head start! And we've been stuck at this stop sign for forty! How exactly can I calm down?!"

Nick raised his phone and pressed play.

"Away, away, in the deep dark wood..." sang the horribly off-key recorded voice of Judy.

The real Judy stared wide-eyed as Nick grabbed the microphone to the unmarked police cruiser's loudspeaker and held it threateningly close to the phone.

"Breathe. Count to ten."

She sucked in more oxygen than any other bunny in history and held the life giving gas tight.

"First comes one, Carro—"

"ONE!"

Duke was hating this. Granted, the car was great. Fresh coat of paint, new plates, the whole shebang. If he had any complaints, it was too big. With three rows of seats, the thing was basically a family mini-van, complete with fake honor roll bumper stickers. The ZPD won't look twice. He just knew at some point Horn was gonna bring this up like it was a huge favor. A new start meant owing nothing to nobody. The sooner he scrapped this the better.

The park bench waited for him on the corner. Just as Horn said, underneath the seat was the package. An ordinary wooden box, little bigger than an apple, sitting in the shade. If you weren't trying to look for it, you'd never see it. Same as the van.

He got out and crossed the street, passing a sluggish sloth that was blocking a sedan. The broad inside was shouting her fur off. He tried to sneak a peek at the show but the windows were tinted. Shame.

"Take yer time, Pops," Duke snickered. "Ya've lived dis long, enjoy it."

The sloth eventually gave him a gummy smile.

Duke grabbed the box and headed back.

"FIVE!" he heard a voice shout from in the sedan.

Duke smirked to himself. Counting never works. It only makes you lightheaded.

"Hopps, you're turning blue!"

"SIIIXXXXXxxxxxxx..." Then she passed out.

"Judy!"

Outside, neither saw their target climb into his van and drive away.

The trick was to drive safely and avoid the cameras. Only the major intersections had them which meant taking the backroads and alleys. That and actually following the speed limits added maybe 15 heart-pounding minutes to the drive but as he zoomed by the 'Now Leaving Zootopia Limits' sign, Duke let out the biggest whoop.

"So long, suckers! Haha!"

He set his phone to play his favorite song and turned on the cruise control. There was no stopping. This time tomorrow he'll be on the other side. He had everything he would ever need: clothes, food and cash. Nothing left to do except enjoy the ride and plan out his new life. With his skill set he imagined he'd be running the South in a month. They'd never seen a weasel like Duke before. Probably make him their Zootopia crime expert or something like that.

His foot absently scratched at his tied up ankle and interrupted his daydream. He gritted his teeth, the film was starting to chafe. Making sure the road was clear and straight, he brandished a claw and leaned down. He could only slowly work through one layer at a time but there always seemed to be another. Maybe he could quickly stop for scissors…

Duke froze. In his awkward leaning position, his ear was almost pressed to the small box on the passenger seat. It was in the corner of his vision. Surely, he must be seeing things.

"Did ya just move?" he asked the box.

HONK!

The weasel sat straight up! A semi-truck was barreling towards him!

"Christ! Shit!"

He wrenched the wheel, swerving the van back into the correct lane and against the side barrier. The stone divider scraped the van's side, tearing away the fresh paint with a painful screech. Duke slammed on the brakes, the entire vehicle felt like it would launch into the air as it came to a sudden halt.

Finally, silence.

BLAM!

The front right side dipped.

"Crap!"

Thankfully, Horn had included a spare tire in the trunk. Duke went to work. Every minute stuck here was a minute the ZPD could get closer. Duke prayed none of this was coming out of his pay. As he spun the jack, his mind kept picturing the little box in the car. In that sparse moment that he had gotten a good look at it he had found circles, tiny little pin prick circles carved into the thing.

He opened the passenger door and picked up the box. He held it close to his good eye. There were dozens of them all over the wood. Almost like the box was made of swiss cheese or something… Eh, who cares? He wasn't getting paid to think. He was getting paid to deliver.

"Fuck it," he concluded out loud.

"Bllubbt."

"AH!" Duke spun around, swinging the tire iron like a mad weasel. He hit nothing but air. "Who's dere?" he demanded.

"Plup pit."

All his fur stood on end as his ears swiveled toward the true source of the voice: the box in his paw. In his fear, his claws had partially unsheathed, cracking the box. Its integrity compromised, the container fell to splinters. Duke stared at the package he was supposed to take South.

"What the..."

"Fluck it!" gurgled the baby shrew.

Judy's head felt like a ton of bricks being crushed by three tons of cinderblocks buried under a pyramid of bulldozers. She forced her eyes open to find herself laying in the shade on a park bench, her head in her partner's lap

"Nick?"

"Hey, there you are," he pushed a water bottle to her lips. She gladly chugged it all, "Had me worried for a second. Remind me never to ask you to count ever again."

Judy finished the bottle and sat up, "Weaselton?"

"I sent Pennington and Wolfard, but… looks like he skipped town," he hung his head, "Sorry."

Judy groaned. There went their final lead. Technically, it was her fault too, she admitted to herself. If she had kept her cool, they might have nailed Duke. "Don't worry. We'll catch 'em some other way."

Her partner smiled, "That's the spirit. By the way, you might wanna check your phone. It was going off like crazy while you were out."

Judy pulled out her phone. Going off like crazy? She had missed fifty calls in the last hour! All from the same mammal. It had to be an emergency. Just as she about to dial, Nick's phone rang. She had a hunch who it was.

"Hello? Mrs.—What? What are you talking about? Judy's fine, she's right here."

The bunny grabbed his phone, "Fru Fru?"

"Judy!" the squeaky voice wailed to her, "It's li'l Judy! She's been kitnapped!"

END CHAPTER ONE

Ladies 'n Gentlemen 'n Furries alike... Welcome…

Ya know who I am…

Ya know what I do…

Ya know at which size I prefer ta conduct said activity…

Please, make yerself comfy, pour yerself a drink, and get used ta da new messed up way of talkin' `cause dere ain't no end in sight of all dis booze in fronta me.