RJ

Chapter I: Like Father, Like Pun

Written by Berserker88

Edited by Mind Jack & DrummerMax64

Cover art by SaittaMicus

Sahara Square wasn't a fun place on the best of days. It was hot, dusty, noisy, and home to one of Zootopia's largest criminal rings. It was also home to its largest casino and naturalist club, but those were unfortunately not where all the action was happening today. It was under the awning of a towering parking garage that a foursome of mammals was up to no good.

Unsurprisingly, they were a shady bunch, and not just because they were protected from the sun. The group consisted of a camel wearing gold chains around his crooked neck, a coyote with especially bleached fur, a Giraffrican wild dog who seemed to have perpetually crossed arms, and an armadillo smoking a cigar of...something. All of them were dressed in ratty clothing, and in the armadillo's case, overpriced clothing as well. "Alright, boys," the armored mammal said, "I've got something amazing to show all of ya."

The armadillo's name was Kevin "Kev" Larson and he was one of the lesser-known crime bosses in the district. This meant he was a target of both the ZPD and the bigger fish that didn't want him swimming in their pond, but his cocky demeanor showed that the thought clearly didn't bother him. Even when he had to rely on cheap, hired paws like this mangy group just to get anything done. It was a pretty impressive level of self-delusion actually. "Is it amazing enough to pay my crippling debts?" asked the coyote, raising a paw weakly.

"And then some, Carlos. Check it out." Larson pulled a briefcase more expensive than he could legally afford in front of them and popped it open. It was filled to the brim with small bluish spheres, separated by circular pockets.

The camel's eyes widened and he backed away fearfully. "Are those Night Howlers?!"

Larson laughed at his reaction, joined hesitantly by his other two underlings. "Relax, Stumps. These ones aren't gonna hurtcha'. See, I know a guy who knows a guy who knows a naturalist that lent him some of these. I don't know much about 'em, except that they're some new Night Howler derivative that's supposed to give you the feeling of being savage without actually going there. Think they're called 'Primal Nightmare' or something..."

"That sounds dumb," the wild dog said, still crossing his arms.

"Of course it's dumb!" He kicked the briefcase shut. "But that doesn't matter because we're not gonna be the ones using 'em!"

"We're not?" asked Carlos.

"Nope! We're gonna be sellin' all of it off, ASAP. There's loads of preds out there who would buy this crap up, maybe even some prey too, and we're just the sorta folks who are willing ta part with it." Larson smiled confidently through all of this, seeing no flaw whatsoever in his plan.

To be fair, neither did his henchmammals. "Y-Yeah, that sounds good," Stumps stammered, fighting down a lump in his large throat. "Bet we can get a lot of cash out of it."

"Enough to keep my fingers!" Carlos cheered.

"I still think it's dumb," the wild dog said.

Larson fixed his beady eyes on him. "Oh? Do ya now? Perhaps you've got a better plan, Scourge?"

"Yeah, actually." Scourge finally uncrossed his arms and stepped forward. "Maybe we should all find something better to do with our lives. Just leave this case here, go out, find a real job, and become productive members of society."

His proposal was met by dead silence. For all of three seconds before it was replaced by raucous laughter. "Wahahahaha! That's a good one!" Larson cackled.

"You almost had me going there for a second!" Stumps joined in.

"Your fingers wouldn't last a day with that attitude!" Carlos added.

Larson wiped a tear from his eye as he came down. "Heh heh, oh wow. But seriously, let's get moving. These recreational drugs ain't gonna peddle themselves."

Scourge wasn't laughing. "Are you sure you won't reconsider this?"

And now, neither was Larson. "Yes, I'm sure! Now get off your soapbox and do your damn job!"

He shrugged. "If you insist." He lifted a pair of fingers up to his mouth and blew a sharp whistle.

Like clockwork, a half-dozen clicks sounded from behind parked cars as uniformed mammals popped out and leveled tranq pistols at them. "FREEZE! ZPD!"

Scourge shook his head, clicking his tongue. "By the way, parking garage? Terrible place to conduct illegal business affairs. Way too many blind spots."

Stumps and Carlos were already raising their arms in surrender. Larson gasped, looking frantically back and forth before finally narrowing his eyes back on Scourge. "You sold us out to the cops?!"

"I am a cop, idiot." Scourge crossed his arms once more, smirking. "Meet the Giraffrican Wilde dog. A rare species, one of a kind actually, known to prey on stupid criminals. Here it is now, hunting in its natural environment."

"I find that mildly offensive!" a familiar voice shouted from behind one of the cars.

He couldn't see their face, but the two long ears were a dead giveaway. "You can report me to Mammal Resources later, Carrots!"

Larson scowled. "Screw this. If I'm going down, I'm taking ya with me!" With a loud snarl, he hefted the large briefcase right at the imposter. "Scourge" was quick to sidestep it, and good thing too as Larson then drew a knife and charged him. Gasps sounded from all around them, followed by the sounds of several fired shots, all of which bounced harmlessly off of Larson's plated backside.

But Nick Wilde wasn't worried. He hadn't gone through all the trouble of applying this fur dye, growing these extensions, and practicing his scummy criminal accent just to die now. He wasn't the best fighter in the ZPD, but he was good at at being quick on his feet. He dodged the first stab as Larson came at him from the left. "You know, this is really kinda your fault when you think about it." Larson pivoted around and stabbed at him again, which he jumped away from. "I mean, you seriously trusted a guy named Scourge? If I knew it was gonna be that easy, I would've just called myself 'Bad M. Ammal'." Screaming in rage, Larson charged forward without any attempt at subtly. "And that would be checkmate." Nick turned just slightly away, caught Larson's arm, and flipped the smaller mammal over his shoulder. He didn't get the chance to attack again before he was rushed and taken down by Officers McHorn and Fangmeyer.

Despite this impressive display, Judy had no trouble whatsoever coming up from behind and stomping on his foot. "Always the showoff," she sighed as he hopped around on the other. "You're going to get yourself killed like that someday. You want me to tell the kits that their Daddy's last words were a cheesy one-liner?"

He balanced himself on one leg and rubbed at his foot. "Maybe if the cheesy one-liner is 'I love you'."

She rolled her eyes. "Let's just get you home and wash you off. It's weird seeing you like this."

"Hey, it's still the same old me on the inside."

"That's what I'm worried about."

They watched as the briefcase containing the strange blue spheres was confiscated while Stumps and Carlos were escorted away in cuffs.

"This isn't so bad. I didn't want to get involved with Night Howlers anyway."

"Hey, cops don't cut off fingers, right?"

Larson was, naturally, a tougher sell. He had curled up into a ball and refused to leave it, making it impossible to cuff him. McHorn shrugged and just picked him up instead. "Hey, there's just one thing I gotta say!" came his muffled voice. "To you, Wilde!"

"Oh boy, this outta be good." Nick put on a fake smile and titled his ear towards the angry, scaly ball. "Yeeeeeeees?"

"You chose the wrong side, Wilde. That was a serious mistake."

"Yeah, yeah, I've heard it all before. Is this the part where you threaten to haunt me for the rest of my life or something?"

"That's not what I meant." Even though he couldn't see his face, he could practically feel the smirk plastered on it. "You chose the wrong side of the law. I've heard plenty about you, and your skills. You could have been an amazing criminal, better than me, better than anyone, but ya threw all that potential away for this. It's a pity."

Judy glared. "He's already better than you. Take him away."

"My pleasure," McHorn grunted, just as disgusted as he carried the ball to their patrol car.

"Can you believe that guy? Trying to disparage our profession like that? Nick?"

"Huh?" It took the fox a second to register her. "Yeah. What a jerkface. Let's get out of here." He turned around and started heading back to their car before she could reply, all the while thinking about what the armadillo had said. He didn't give it any serious consideration, of course. He was very happy with the life he had now and wouldn't change it for a second. Not the ZPD, not their children, and certainly not Judy.

Even so, he couldn't help but at least wonder...what could he have become without all of that?

The next time PIXAR booted up, it was to a very different Zootopia. One where the adage of "anyone can be anything" meant absolutely nothing, as a certain mammal had come to discover. They had big aspirations once, but this city had chewed them up and spit them out, leaving only a bitter, jaded shell in its place.

And her name was Judy Hopps.

No longer did she wear a police badge with pride. Now she settled for a simple brown trench coat while her multitude of toy badges lay dormant in a box somewhere. No longer was she content to live in a cramped, noisy apartment. Now she was alone, occupying a dingy, three-room office building in Savannah Central. No longer was she even recognizable as the bright-eyed bunny who had once walked into the ZPD with such naive confidence. Now she was Detective Hopps, private investigator, and she did whatever she still could to make the world a better place.

Honestly, it could have been worse. The place wasn't exactly homey, but comfortable enough. She had even experienced some modest success as a PI, closing every case that came to her doorstep. Of course, she rarely got anything more serious than tracking down a runaway kit, but that was okay. At least she knew she could find some missing mammals

Judy sighed, leaning back in her creaky desk chair. It had been exactly one year since her failure to solve the Missing Mammal Case and her resignation from the ZPD. It was hard not to wonder what could have been had she just been a little more patient, instead of throwing herself at an impossible case in a desperate attempt to prove herself. No experience, no resources, no help, it was a foolish decision any way she looked at it. And yet, she only half-regretted it. In the end, she'd finally gotten a taste of being a real cop, even if only for a short while.

Her phone rang, snapping her out of this depressing train of thought. Putting all four legs of the chair back on the floor, Judy did her best to perk her ears up and smile, for she had a pretty good idea who was calling her. She picked up. "Hey, Mom and Dad! How are you?"

The two rabbits on the other end of MuzzleTime weren't buying it. "Worried sick, of course," Bonnie said. "Why won't you just come home, Judy? That city's getting worse by the day."

She groaned, losing the smile quickly. "Mom, we've talked about this. I need to do whatever I can to help those in need, now more than ever."

"Yeah, but that was before they found all of those savage predators," Stu pointed out. "And they've been cropping up left and right ever since. You still have your fox repellent, right?"

"Yes, Dad." She rolled her eyes, tapping the small canister on her hip. She had no idea how effective it would actually be against a savage, but she thought it better not to bring that up. "That's exactly why this city needs all the help it can get. Mammals are getting too scared to even turn to the ZPD anymore."

"Can't blame 'em either, what with all those giant preds there," Stu muttered.

"What your father means to say," Bonnie cut in sharply, "is that there's only so much one bunny can do. Something like this is just too much for you to handle alone, even if you were still a cop."

Judy's eyes narrowed. It was fortunate for everyone involved that a knock sounded on her office door at that very moment. "Greattalkingtoyouasusualbye!" She quickly hung up before they could protest and silenced her phone for good measure. Once again, she straightened herself up, this time in hopes of receiving a new client. "Come in!"

No amount of time could have prepared her for the mammal that came through her door. It was a face she had only seen in person briefly, but one that still haunted her to this day. She wasn't sure she ever wanted to see it again. "C-Chief Bogo?!"

The Zootopian police chief looked as regal and intimidating as she remembered, from recurring nightmares and otherwise. He closed the door behind him and started to approach her desk. "Greetings, Off-Detective Hopps. I-"

"You're not here to shut me down, are you?" Judy was instantly on the defensive. "Because I went through all the proper channels, followed the right procedures, took all the prerequisite classes-"

"I'm not going to shut you down!" Bogo said quickly. "Though I suppose I can't blame you for jumping to that conclusion…"

Judy relaxed, but only a little. "Then why are you here?" she asked skeptically.

"Same reason most mammals come through these doors, I imagine." He sat himself down in one of the larger chairs she had set up for clients. The irony of being on this side of the desk now was not lost on her. "I'm here to request your services."

Even with her exceptionally large ears, she wasn't sure she heard that right. "Excuse me?"

Bogo grunted, hating to repeat himself. "You know I'm not one to mince words, Hopps, so I'm just going to cut to the chase. Mayor Bellwether was arrested this morning."

Now she was sure her ears must be on the fritz. "The mayor?! For what?!"

"For masterminding the plot to turn predators savage," he said bluntly. "It hasn't hit the news yet, but it won't remain secret for long. Might as well hear it straight from me."

Judy barely heard anything after the first sentence. Dawn Bellwether, the kind sheep who had tried so hard to give her a chance, even when no one else would. Judy hadn't heard much from her since her resignation, which she had assumed was a result of her new responsibilities as mayor. Or she was just disappointed in her for blowing her only chance at success. It seemed the truth was even worse. "How did you find out?"

At least Bogo was just as sour about it. "I'd like to say it was the hard work and dedication of the ZPD, but I can't. It was an anonymous tip, like the one that led us to that old asylum. Except that one was likely sent by Bellwether herself, to incite panic once we discovered what happened to our missing mammals. This one sent us to a hidden lab in a subway car, where we found all the evidence we needed to prove that this savage pandemic was chemically manufactured, and who was responsible."

Judy rubbed at her temples, trying her best to take this all in. In less than a minute, two of her biggest preconceptions had just been flipped upside-down. She decided she could worry about that later. "But the case is solved, right? So what do you want me for?" Not like you wanted me to begin with.

He smiled faintly. "Staying focused on the case, even after all that. Impressive."

You used to call it insubordination. "And…?"

His smile vanished. "The fact of the matter is, this savage crisis has been a huge detriment to the ZPD. First, we spend weeks trying to find a bunch of missing mammals, only finding them when we're outright told where to look. Then, the city starts going crazy over this idea of predators having some kind of 'inherent savagery' and not trusting half of my force to do their jobs. Now this surfaces and we look like idiots all over again!"

Serves you right. "That's a shame."

Bogo leaned over the desk, staring down at her. "But I still trust my instincts, and my instincts tell me that whoever sent this tip wasn't just some good samaritan. It was far too detailed, too perfect. This guy knew everything and I need to know why."

She stared right back, unblinking. "But you can't be seen investigating it yourself, or else you'll just make the ZPD look even worse. So you want to use someone expendable in case things go sour. Does that sound about right?"

"...You've changed, Hopps."

"I suppose I have."

Bogo sighed and sat back down. "Look, I know you and I have gotten off on the wrong foot. I didn't use you to your fullest potential back when you were under my command, and that may have been a mistake on my part. But I've seen your records from the academy, along with your success rate as a PI, and I want to give you another chance."

So now you care? "So now you care?"

"Yes, Hopps. Now I care."

It was the closest thing to an apology she was going to get and they both knew it. Now the only question was how she was going to respond. Truthfully, her immediate thought was to tell Bogo where he could shove this job, but she knew an opportunity when she saw one. That was one thing about her that hadn't changed, except this time, she was the one with the bargaining power. She leaned forward, sliding one paw under her desk. "Okay. I'll take the job."

"Really?" Bogo seemed surprised, at least that she had accepted so quickly, already standing up to shake on it.

She yanked it away, smirking at him. "Yes. If you agree to give me another chance in the ZPD should I complete it. As a real cop, this time."

Bogo glared. "I was going to pay you anyway, you know."

"I know."

He huffed, giving in. "Fine. If you prove useful on this job, we will discuss your return to the force. You have my word."

"I do indeed." She casually pulled her paw back out from the desk, wiggling a small, carrot-shaped pen for him to see. She pressed a button, playing a recording of Bogo's own agreement back at him.

She smiled pleasantly at the look on his face, not trying particularly hard to hide her smugness.

"You're going to be the death of me, Hopps," he said, regretting this decision already as he reached around his back and placed a case file in front of her. "Here. This is everything we have on my prime suspect."

"You already have a suspect?" One of her ears tilted in a show of confusion. "That was fast."

"Don't think I'm making this too easy for you. Take a look."

Curious, Judy pulled the file closer and opened it. Her eyes widened. She saw in an instant why the ZPD couldn't afford to screw this one up. This was no ordinary suspect, and he certainly wasn't a good samaritan.

He was a crime lord.

According to the file, Mr. Big was no longer the head honcho of Tundratown. He had just "retired" and been replaced by new, younger blood. It wasn't his daughter, Fru Fru, who had always looked strangely familiar to her, so she already didn't buy that story for a second. She also hadn't heard anything about this on the news either, but that was no surprise. There wasn't much known about the new boss so far, except that his sudden rise to power coincided suspiciously well with Bellwether's arrest. Eliminating the competition perhaps? If so, she wasn't sure if she wanted to thank him or punch him.

It did include a picture though. A slim, immaculately groomed fox in a black suit was snapped from behind as he entered a limousine. She almost assumed it was taken without his knowledge, if not for the fact that he appeared to be shooting a peace sign at the camera. The sight of him unnerved her in a way she couldn't explain. In lieu of a name, this enigmatic figure was referred to only as, "RJ?"

"That's what he calls himself anyway," Bogo confirmed. "Don't know what it stands for, but whatever it is, he seems pretty insistent on it."

She nodded slowly. "Alright then. I just have one more question." She closed the file. "Is this a suicide mission?"

"What?"

"You want to send me in to dig up dirt on a crime lord, one who has all the resources of Mr. Big's empire, who you know almost nothing about besides that, all by myself with no backup? Either you're completely insane, or this is a suicide mission." There was once a time when Judy would never talk back to the chief of police like this. That time had long passed.

Bogo leaned back in his seat, unsure how to respond. Finally, he removed his spectacles and looked her in the eye. "Hopps...I know you probably see me as a monster and you have every right to think that. But believe me when I say I do not want your blood on my hooves. I'm not doing this because I'm just trying to get rid of you again." She snorted in disbelief. "I'm doing this because I think you have the best shot of any of us!"

She raised an eyebrow. "Explain."

"RJ is holding a party tonight at Big's estate. This is the best opportunity we have to sneak in and find out what he's up to. But half of my mammals are too big to go unnoticed, and the other half will get sniffed out before they can even get close. All of Zootopia's biggest criminals are attending; someone is going to recognize them. Not you though. You're a variable they won't expect."

"Good to know my best merits are being short and lacking presence." Judy smiled again though. "If you had put that any other way, I would've been sure you were lying to me. Alright, I'll do it. It's against my code to ignore something like this anyway." Bogo breathed a sigh of relief. Judy got some satisfaction out of making him squirm at least. "If you honor my terms."

"Of course. Pull this off, and you'll already be prepared for the ZPD." He stood up, placing a small slip of paper on her desk as he turned around. "That's my private contact number. Call me as soon as you get anything. And Hopps?" Pulling the door part way open, he looked one last time over his shoulder. "Be careful."

And then he was gone. If not for the evidence he left behind, Judy could've passed that whole meeting off as a fever dream. To call it life-changing was a severe understatement. She still wasn't entirely certain of Bogo's motives, but she quickly realized that didn't matter to her. If she wanted to be a real cop, to truly make the world a better place, she needed to help out any way she could. This was finally her chance to make an impact again.

Alright, no time to lose. Now that she had a chance, she needed a plan. Judy sat down, opened the file again, and put the gears in her head to work.

But for some reason, she just couldn't stop staring at that photo. Just what kind of mammal are you, RJ?

"Watch out, everyone! There's a fox in the henhouse!" The doors to Mr. Big's office were kicked open with great force. In walked a certain handsome gentlemammal, straightening out his tie and showing off his smile. "Oh wait, it's just me."

"You're seriously gonna break those doors if you keep doing that," said a smaller, fennec fox, also in a suit. "And I thought I had destructive tendencies."

"Relax, Finn, I'm good for it. Got a lot more than pawpsicle funds to work off of now." He looked around the office, giving a low whistle as he took it all in. "The place could use some redecorating anyway. It's a bit...crowded."

Both foxes finally turned their attention to the giant, chained-up polar bear kneeling in the middle of the room, and the two others standing behind him. "Yeah, should probably do something about that," Finnick agreed.

"Both of you can go jump in a freezing lake," the biggest bear snapped. "I'm not telling you anything."

All eyes turned to RJ as he stepped forward. In his left paw, he held a black fountain pen adorned with a tiny fox head, spinning it idly around in his fingers. It was almost hypnotic, especially since he spent a long time not doing anything else. "I'm hurt, Icebox. I thought we worked out these family issues. The father might be gone, but you still have the red-headed stepchild."

"You will never replace, Mr. Big," Koslov snarled.

"Nor do I want to." Even on his knees, the bear was taller, yet RJ still managed to look down on him. "This place doesn't need another Mr. Small in charge. And I'm not just calling him that because of his size, but because of his ideals. You see, he never really saw the big picture, Icebox. While that sheep was out ruining the lives of predators all across the city, he hid here like a coward, just waiting for it all to blow over."

"He was trying to keep us safe!"

"And now he's sorry. Funny that." RJ chuckled at his own joke, leaning in closer. "But don't worry, I made sure to give him and his daughter a proper burial. I wrapped them both up in a warm, comfortable...skunk-butt rug. Just like grandmama."

Koslov roared, his head lashing forward to bite into him. Even before he was pulled back by the two bears behind him, RJ had already stepped away, stopping to spin the pen again just to add insult to injury. "Well, at least I know you're not a coward. Shame. You could've been a really great asset if only you were more of a team player, like Raymond and Kevin here."

"Laugh it up, fox, but I know you can't afford to kill me." Despite his situation, Koslov smirked at him. "I know what you want, and I'm the only one who can give it to you."

"At one time, that might've been true." RJ turned around, as if dismissing both his claim and his presence. "But I make my own rules now. Ice 'em!"

Raymond and Kevin shared an uncertain look. "Uh...sir? Polar bears can survive quite well in sub-zero temperatures," Kevin pointed out.

RJ slapped his forehead. "Ah, sorry, force of habit. What I meant to say was 'put 'em on ice', so if you could just...you know what, I'll take care of it."

"W-Wait, what are you-?" Koslov didn't even get the chance to finish before RJ clicked the head of his pen, unsheathing a thin blade, then spun around and stabbed it into his neck.

Finnick winced, turning away. "Ugh, warn me when you're gonna do that."

RJ pulled the blade back out, and instantly regretted it. "Aw geez, it's going everywhere!"

"Why did you pull it out, you idiot?!"

"I wanted my pen back!"

"It's getting all over the carpets!"

"I'll replace those too!"

"Yo, bears! Get him out of here!"

Raymond and Kevin jumped into action, lifting their former head of security onto their shoulders and escorting him out of the office. As soon as they were gone, RJ regained his composure, casually cleaning off his pen with a handkerchief. "That went well."

"Where did you get that thing anyway?"

"Slapped it together while I was bored. Just to see if I could really. You like it?"

"It's weird."

"It's effective. But don't worry about that now, we've got plans to discuss."

"Plans for the organization?" Finnick asked, carefully stepping around the puddles.

"Plans for the party." Reaching into his suit coat, RJ took out a piece of folded paper and handed it to the smaller fox. "Do me a favor and delegate these out to the rest of our new family."

"Yeah...sure," Finnick replied, opening it up. "As long as it's less work for myself, Nick."

"RJ."

"Whatever." The fennec frowned as he scanned the list. "Half of these things have nothing to do with the party."

"Maybe, maybe not."

"Seriously, why do we need to install GPS trackers in all of our vehicles? Even for you, that's being really paranoid, Nick."

"RJ."

"RJ. It just sounds a bit crazy, is all."

"Crazy like a fox," he shot back, winking. "I don't need you to understand, Finn. Just trust my judgement and, sooner or later, you'll get the point." He extended the blade of his pen again for emphasis. "...Wow, that kinda sounded like I was threatening you. Sorry, still new to this."

"I can still bite your face off, you know," Finnick said, smiling in spite of it. "Alright, fine. You got us this far, I guess I can trust you, Ni-"

"RJ."

"Okay, that's it!" He violently crumpled the list between his paws. "I'm not doing a damn thing until you tell me what's up with that name!"

He shrugged. "I wanted an alias. Like Mr. Six Feet Under."

"I get that," Finnick growled. "But why RJ?"

RJ paused, tapping the pen against his lip in thought. He wandered slowly over to the nearest window, placing his paw against the surface. "Have you ever heard of Reynard?"

Finnick quirked his head. "The mythical fox? Course' I have."

He smiled wistfully. "Well, a long time ago, back when I was small and emotionally unbalanced, my father used to read me stories about the legendary Reynard. He was said to be a fox of extraordinary caliber. He could outwit anyone, think his way out of any problem, take for himself whatever he wanted. And one night, as I looked up at my father, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, I said," He put on a high-pitched, childlike falsetto. "That sounds like you, Daddy!"

"Adorable. What's your point?"

He didn't even seem to acknowledge him. "When my father heard that, he gave me a very curious response. To this day, I'm not sure if he was just humoring me or if he saw something in me then, but he smiled back and replied," Now he took on a deep, gruff voice. "Well, if I'm Reynard, then I guess that makes you Reynard Junior!" The tender moment faded quickly as he looked back at him. "I mean, he's dead now, so he kinda lost his stake to claim there, but you get the gist, right?"

Finnick was unimpressed. "You named yourself after a childhood memory?"

"No, Finn." RJ smiled as he strode back across the room and into his desk chair, kicking his feet up on the surface. "I named myself after a legend. And after tonight, that's exactly what I'm going to be. Isn't that right, buddy?"

He wasn't talking to Finnick. RJ had abruptly turned his head to the left and called out to someone outside the room. A muffled scream sounded in response.

"What was that?" Finnick asked, unnerved.

RJ smirked. "I believe he said, 'Let the games begin'."

Welcome back, everyone! It's Berserker88 again, here with my second contribution to the What If project. You may remember my last one, "Nick Wilde: Ace Attorney", which was greatly enjoyed by the two people who got the joke and generally confused everyone else. I clearly haven't learned my lesson because this story is loosely based off of my own megafic "Born to Be Wilde", with several in-jokes thereof.

But it all stems from a general premise that's always intrigued me since first seeing the movie: What if Nick had never met Judy and just fell deeper and deeper into darkness? The result is Reynard Junior: an ambitious new crime lord with the willingness to do horrible things, but who isn't quite used to it yet. In short, I wanted to do something very different from the other What If stories and portray an outright villainous Nick, completely lacking in his attachment to Judy. If you were okay with Prosecutor Hopps, it shouldn't make you too uncomfortable, but if it does, hold on to that feeling because that's kinda what I'm going for. Judy herself isn't quite at that level yet, but definitely more in line with her old conceptual self than the final version we all know and love.

One last note: this scenario has a bit more backstory than most, to the point that it could have easily been the entire first chapter. Because of that, each chapter will start with a scene from the real world before jumping back into PIXAR. Alright, shutting up now! :)