Finnick Fennec turned the keys to his shop door at 7:00 AM. It was the Tuesday after a large storm had rolled through, and the air was hot and humid. But the streets glistened in the sun the way a street would only glisten after such a rainstorm.
7:00 AM, the fox thought to himself. Guess I really am settlin' down.
Turning the doorknob, he noticed a certain piece of jewelry making a very satisfying click against the brass.
Yeah… settlin' down. And a hustla' couldn't be any happiah'
His wedding ring… part of his pride and joy, that he managed to start his own business and make enough to buy himself and his wife, Petunia, nice wedding rings. Not some five-and-dime ring pops. Real, shimmering gold rings. He took a risk going legitimate, for sure. But now his kids wouldn't see "Daddy the hustler". They'd know "Daddy the businessman".
Finnick wasn't much for deep conversation, and didn't tend to reflect much on life in general. But, as he opened the door to his Tundratown shop and saw the assortment of sports gear and memorabilia he had lined up around the grand mahogany shelves, he could never help but reflect. Especially today. Today was a very important milestone in his life.
Fo'ty yeah's. Nevah thought I'd be alive ta' see tha' day, man.
Forty years of living. Forty years of living and he'd only just gotten out of hustling two years ago. Just got married one year ago. And he just had his first kid a month ago. He had gotten the seventh shop in his chain of sporting goods stores only five days ago. And here he was today, turning forty years old, looking back on it all. It was one hell of a time of change for him. Love, family, and business had all entered into his life in just the span of two years.
An' here I was, thinkin' I'd be a hustlah' fo' the rest of my life. Nicky boy sho' got to me. Look at me now, all dressed up, gettin' 401K's, tax returns and all.
Yep. He had a good looking sports jacket and diaper money to show that he was a settled down fox now.
But as he walked into his fancy back office, sat down on his leather office chair, and started checking his emails for updates from each of the seven stores, a particular thought crossed his mind. This thought crossed his mind sometimes, but today more than ever.
He felt a bit mellow. Maybe even a little bored, at least by his job. Sure, he was happily married with a kid and a successful business to show for it. And the happiness was real. He loved his wife and mate, no doubt. And his kid, Johnson. Oh boy, did Finnick love the little bugger to death, even if he was teething at the moment. He felt happy, but… he wasn't very excited about much anymore.
Hustling was risky and undignified for sure. But one thing it had never left Finnick with was boredom. He was always doing something new. His heart was always pounding. He was living a life of excitement and danger, and at this new chapter of his life… he just wasn't feeling it. Hustling people out of money was exciting, and watching his employees come in and perform opening duties… it just wasn't.
The fennec sighed, but stood up and shook off his thoughts.
It's my birthday, I'm happy, I ain't gonna think like that.
Besides, he had to go check up on his workers. He wasn't about to be the asshole boss that did nothing but boss people around.
He walked out and opened the doors to his morning shift employees.
"Good morning, sir!" An adolescent cheetah called from behind the counter, raising a paw in a welcoming gesture.
"Ay, wha's good, Fin?" A gazelle said while hanging up some dry-fit shirts.
"Nothin' much. I'm doin' okay. How about y'all?"
The cheetah put some change away in the cash register. "I'm doing well, sir."
"Look a'chu, actin' all formal an' all. You need 'ta relax a bit" The zebra piped up.
"Nah, man, let 'im be. I don't mind bein' called sir and all. Does make me feel old, though!" He said with a hearty laugh.
He hadn't told any of them about his fortieth birthday on that day. Didn't want the recognition.
"Man, hate to break it to you, but you is old, suh."
"Really now, why's that?"
"Look at you, you wear sports jackets for leisure wear. You dressed fo' church every day of the week. Look at this, right here-" the gazelle said, bending over to move the coat to the side. "You even got some suspenders on!"
"Aight, Aight, quit it! You go into the back room and restock the New Baa-lence section. We already got a customa' comin' in."
The gazelle set off to get the new merchandise, and Finnick was about to turn back to go to his office, but the Cheetah walked up to him to stop him, looking just a bit nervous.
"Uhm… sir, may I just say something real quick?"
"Yeah, sure, what's the dig? Cash register ain't workin' again?"
"No, sir… I just wanted to thank you. For hiring me, despite my, uhh… record. It really means a lot, having a legitimate job. And I promise you, ever since that last arrest, I've been staying out of gangs, I haven't touched a single drug, I've been going cle-"
"Hey, hey, look. Don't mention it. I's what I do. I don't like young men like you on the streets. Now's the time fo' you to grow, use all that potential you got."
It was no secret that Finnick hired a lot of young mammals from troubled backgrounds. Former gangbangers, poor hustlers like he once was, and orphans who were misguided. All on the condition that they'd give up their street life, and go legitimate and clean. Finnick took care of his workers. He'd make sure they got to school and didn't skip classes. He'd help some of them out with their college applications. He had even gone through the roughest time with some of them getting them off drugs. He was like a father to many of his employees.
"You keep up that good work. And hey, Kasan over there is right. Loosen up a little bit, kitty cat. I try to be a good boss."
With that, Finnick set into his office. He had inventories to attend to.
The doorbell ringed as a large lion stepped in at around two in the afternoon. The cheetah, briefly looking up from his current work stocking the football helmet rack, offered a polite and professional greeting, before doing a double take and staring slack jawed at the lion.
"Oh my god… No way! Are you Steve Prideson?"
The lion couldn't help but give his big, goofy grin at the recognition. "Sure am, son" He offered in his famous texas twang.
"No way! The Steve Prideson?"
"Ten ton terror of Texas, Runningback Wrangler, the Pass Thief? Yes to all of 'em."
The cheetah just stood dumbfounded behind the counter, before speeding around it to shake his hand. "Sir, it is an honor, really, I am a huge fan of the Zootopia Chompers!"
"I can tell" the lion said with a grin.
"Really, like, I was kind of ridin' on you for my fantasy football team all of last season, and you kind of saved me a lot."
"Heh, don't worry about it."
"Well, what can I get you, sir?"
The office door opened. "Stevie, Stevie, Stevie! What you doin' here in Tundratown, man? Thought you usually went to the Sahara Street shop!"
"Well, my claw covers got broke in practice this morning, so I thought I'd come get some new ones. Then I heard that you were turning 40 today, so I figured I'd come on down to give you a little something!"
"Man, how'd you know I was turnin' 40?"
"You're on a first name basis with the king of linebackers?" The cheetah pitched in, shocked.
"Just heard it from the grapevine, brother. Anyway, I wanted to give you a little somethin'"
Out of a bag, the lion pulled out an official game ball from the ZFL. With his signature on it. And paperwork to confirm that it was real.
"Damn! Man, you too generous."
"Nothin's too generous for my favorite fennec!"
"Nah man!" Finnick said with a happy laugh. "This is too much. I'mma put this up behind the counter. Thanks a ton, man. Here, you can take the claw covah's off the shelf in the third row right there. Extra large Sharpex models, kevlar, won't break on ya. S'got a special glove type strap on the wrist that keeps it from slippin' on ya when yo' claws retract. Best deal I got in the house, man."
"Hey, thanks a ton for that, Finn. You know I can't resist your business. Anyway, Happy birthday, hope you enjoy things back home with your mate and son. How much do you need for the claw covers, by the way?"
"That'll… be… $80, sir…" The cheetah said, dumbfounded at the casual friend talk between his boss and a celebrity football star.
Immediately, the lion produced a one hundred dollar bill and put it on the table. "Keep the change, donate it to someone, do what you will with it. It's yours, Finn."
"Thanks a lot. Hey, I'll see you around."
"See you next time. Oh, by the way, forgot this, too" the lion said putting two tickets to the next Chompers game in Finnick's hands. "Luxury skybox seats, and free concessions as well. You're one of the best sporting goods stores in town. This is just a thank you."
"Hey, thanks man, I'll make good use of 'em. I'll see you around next time somethin' breaks, aight?" The fennec said with a hearty laugh.
"Alright, brother. See you around."
The cheetah was frozen at the cash register as his boss walked back into his office as if nothing interesting had happened.
A police car pulled up to the parallel parking spot in front of the sporting goods store at 7:00 PM, just before shop closing time. Out of the vehicle stepped one familiar fox, one very dear to Finnick (though he would never admit that). Fangmeyer, who was Nick's new partner after his engagement to Judy, had already clocked out for the day, and Nick was on his way back from a quick stop at City Hall.
The fox strutted through the door, grabbing the attention of both the Gazelle and the Cheetah. The freeze in their closing duties clearly indicated that they had a troubled past with police. But Nick knew that Finnick hired troubled kids from low income families. He reassured the two with a smile and a wave.
"Do you two young men know where Finnick is? He's a friend of mine."
"Finnick? He in the office right there, boss man. I can call him out if ya' want."
"Nah, it's okay. Finnick, buddy, how about you come out and let me say happy birthday to you!"
Finnick's ear shot up in the direction of the door when he heard Nick. The two were seeing each other still, but less and less as time went by. He took whatever opportunity to hang out with the old con-fox he could. Bursting open the door, he elated "Nick! You finally in to arrest me, huh?"
"Trust me, Fin, I wouldn't want you anywhere near a courtroom."
"Why's'at? You don't want 'em knowin' all the stuff you was doin with me back when we was young?"
"Absolutely not."
The two drew each other in for a handshake and a hug.
"How's the big 40?"
"Ah, man, things be settlin' down now. I ain't e'en recognize who I was in the mirror today."
"Heh, I know the feeling, big guy. You want to chat in your office? Have a drink?"
"Man, Nick, you know I ain't keep no drinks in here."
"I got you. Still though, I'd love to catch up with ya, diaperman."
"Hey, don't mention that around those two!"
"I'm never going to let you live that down, Finnick. Just show me in."
The two entered the rather luxurious office. After shutting the door and closing the blinds, Nick piped up again. "Okay, so where do you really keep the alcohol?"
"Right here, big Nick" he said, opening up a mini-fridge underneath his desk which was stocked with cheap but good tasting beer.
"Impressive. Really a step up from strutting around in an elephant costume."
Finnick poured out half a can for himself, a quarter for Nick, and set the rest of the can aside. Both had things left in the day, and it wasn't the time to get flat out drunk. Just a simple sip to calm the nerves.
The smaller fox couldn't help but sigh. "I's a step up from rollin' with the gangs, too" he said with a solemn, hanging regret from his younger and more vulnerable years.
"True", the larger agreed, sipping his drink and letting a comfortable silence stew between the two. "What's this all like, Fin?"
"Wha's all what like?"
"The settling down. I mean…you enjoying this?"
Finnick sighed a bit, pulling his office chair out from behind his desk and sitting next to his old friend. "Yeah, but… you eva' miss the excitement of it, Nicky?"
Nick had to seriously reflect. "At first. But I get enough satisfaction from Judy, and the police work keeps me busy."
"Damn, man, I don't know. You know, I'm really tryin' to get these kids off the streets, an' they takin' my advice, Nicky. But… I'm gettin' bored."
"I understand you there, sometimes."
"You know, I wouldn't go back to the streets. But… I don't know, man. I just feel like somethin' in me is missin'. I don't get the excitement anymo'. Everythang's been gettin' all domestic and shit. I just… I don't know."
"Feels like you're settling?"
"Yeah, man… I don't get it, either. I love my wife, I love my kid, love my job, but…. I's gettin' boring. I don't know, part of me worries I'mma start slippin again."
"You're not gonna slip back into hustling, Fin. I know you won't."
"Thanks, Nicky…"
Another moment of silence passed.
"You know what you need to do, Fin? Maybe you just need to take a look at everything you've got. I'm just saying, you have it made. You're getting a new apartment soon, right?"
"Yeah, somethin' fancy in the downtown area."
"Think about it, did you ever dream you'd be there?"
"Can't say I did."
"And you got there legitimately! And you have a beautiful wife, and a son. Maybe you should get a little more time to spend with them. Maybe you need to stop focusing on the excitement you felt before, and start to feel content with what you've earned now."
More silence.
"Yeah, maybe you right, Nicky. Maybe i's jus' a different stage a' my life 'as gon' take some gettin' used to."
"Hey, fin. We should hang out more. Besides, Carrots and I are getting married soon. I'm gonna need a best man."
Finnick cracked a genuine smile. "Man, Nicky. I don't know what to say. Means a lot to me, man."
"You've done a lot for me, ever since I was twelve. Now I'm thirty four, and life couldn't be any better. I'm glad to have you there."
"Aight, Nicky, enough with the sentimental shit, you gettin' me and yo'self all teary eyed."
The two foxes laughed and downed the rest of their drinks.
"I gotta go now fin. Time to turn in the cruiser before Buffalo Butt starts accusing me of being lazy on the job."
"You is lazy on the job though."
"Did I say I wasn't" he asked, stepping out of the office. "Hey, happy birthday. Hope you enjoyed it."
"I did, Nicky. I'll hit you up lata' alright?"
"Sounds like a plan. See ya'!"
Being content never came easy for Finnick. He was always the industrious sort, looking constantly for new ways to get better and better at what he did. To him, being content was a sign of weakness, not an asset of well-being. Contention was settling for second best, contention was refusing to push yourself, he always thought.
But Nick did make a good point. Finnick had to take a little time to savor the rewards of his hard work.
Positive attitude, he thought. Start seeing all of this as a gift instead of stagnation. This is all a reward. This is good.
He sighed. Would he believe himself as he walked through his apartment door?
As he turned the knob and opened the door up, he smelled the fresh cooking of his wife, and saw his child, sleeping peacefully (a true miracle) in a small crib in the living room.
"Oh, happy birthday, honey" the wife exclaimed with joy, smiling and running up to her husband to pull him in by his tie for a kiss.
Finnick gladly gave into the kiss.
Yes. He would believe himself.