Disclaimer:
The following is a fan-based fiction. Zootopia and its characters are owned by Disney. The songs I reference here belong to their respective artist as well.
""Zootopia, a place where anyone can be anything." Whoever came up with that tag line is a genius; there is no doubt about that. It has a nice ring to it. It's a digestible soundbite. And of course, it can be put on anything imaginable. Banners, bumper stickers, buttons, postcards. Heck, I once saw someone tattooed it on his back.
However, the thing those seven words failed to mention is: "You can be anything, as long as there is no regulation stands in your way." We predators pretty much got left out of the whole "anything" department.
Why? Because when we were born into this city, there is one regulation in our way and it is a pain in the neck. Pun was very much intended there. Though, a few preys had suggested that once you get zapped, you cannot feel anything."
A loud screeching sound from a truck followed by a shout: "Hey fox, watch where you're going" snapped Nick out of his inner monolog.
The fox shook his head. Dumbfounded, he quickly turned his head toward the signal lights. "What are you talking about? The lights say, "Walk"." He pointed at the signal.
The horse behind the wheel did not care, though. "Get out of the way. I got things to do."
Nick gritted his teeth. "I was just-Agh." The collar around his neck emitted a jolt of electricity. It essentially told him the same thing as the horse. "Do not argue. MOVE!" After a frustrated grunt, Nick obeyed both. He quickly ran toward the other side. His hands hugged his suitcase tight. The last thing he would want to see was this ten-year-old case decided to fall apart at that moment.
With the road clear, the horse was free to get his truck going. He trampled on the gas pedal, hoping that would somehow prevent his boss from yelling at him, later on.
Nick let out a sigh and pressed the button on the signal. The lights on the other end gave him the permission to cross. He looked around, just making sure that all the cars stopped behind the thin, faded white line on the road. All the vehicles did as the system told, though the drivers behind the wheels honked at Nick's hesitation.
As Nick was about to cross, a hamster convertible immediately stopped him in his track. The shock collar and his reflex pulled his leg back. That was one Mouse-slaughter charge averted. Actually, that was two charges. The little car suddenly moved forward, made way for Nick. The fox tried to put his foot down, and no surprise, the little convertible drove in reverse. "Hey, let me" Nick whispered.
The car then moved forward, with the two hamsters giving him taunting grins. Knowing their trick too well, Nick decided to take the high road. He ignored both of them and took the path that would lead him up a hill. Sure, it would take longer, but he would not take any chances with these strapping-young-lads. Seeing Nick turned away, the two hamsters proceeded to give each other a 'hi-five' and let out high-pitched laughs. It seemed, making the day of this fox a little worse was somehow making their pointless youth that more fulfilling.
"Yup, I did feel something there." He thought, as the small car drove off. "But heh, whatever, Dad wouldn't want to see me getting worked up like this."
(The song Clint Eastwood by the Gorillaz begins to play)
Chesterization proudly presents
A Zootopia fanfiction
Wild times with Wilde
(Song ends)
Chapter 1: Broken light
Nick pressed on a doorbell of a random house. The mailbox's outer shell, as always, gave him just what he needed. He put on a PR grin and waited for the door.
"Good afternoon, Mister Mutton, I'm Nick Wilde from-" The door slammed shut. He took a deep breath. "Okay, let's try again." Nick proceeded to another house.
A moment later "I'm Wilde from John Wilde and" *Slam*
Later, "Ah, are you interested in-" *Slam*
Later, "I know, what you are thinking, I'm not a-" *Slam*
Later, "Do you want to hear the good words of the Lord? Ha, judging from your expression you must have tired of listen to-"
The old sheep behind the door yelled at him "How dare you defile him. Be gone you foul BEAST. Go before I call the police."
"I am terribly sorry." *Slam*
After a few hours of no result, Nick headed back to his home/office/tailor house- a little place called John Wilde and son. It would take him nearly an hour to walk to the place. He could always take a chance and cheat ride the public transit for free. However, the possibility of being caught always seemed too real to ignore. Losing 200 dollars and the risk of jail were not worth it. Besides, walking is good for your health, he told himself. Preys claimed it: 'worked out all the pent-up aggression resided within everyone, especially predators'.
As Nick went closer and closer to his home, the number of mammals around him gradually reduced and so was the number of warning signs hanging on the walls. A few blocks back, there was a jungle of signs like "No Growling; No Snarling; No Biting." Over time, what written on the signs became, less concrete. Now, near a crossroad, there was only one big sign that said, "No Visible Aggression".
For some reason, it took him longer to get home, that day. Maybe he was just hungry. He, like always, stopped about a few feet in front the place and had a look around. The word 'rundown' came to his mind. That ugly seven letters word was like the homeless raccoon that kept tapping the moss-stained glass of the shop. It kept coming back. Speaking of the devil, there he was, asking if old-man-John was still around for a quick chitchat. Nick ignored him. The fox provided the same respond to the green-covered exterior of the shop and neighboring area. He vaguely remembered how the mayor on the news had said: "Nature is taking back the South East of the First district." and she would give it back to nature, as soon as whoever was left willing to relocate to another part of the city. That offer made by the sheep was becoming more tempting to Nick, day by day.
Nick opened the door, the key shrieked as it struggled to get through the rust. He twisted the knob while simultaneously pushed the door. The fox had to put more effort into that push each day. With some resistance, the door made way. A wave of stored hot air rushed into Nick's face. He took a deep breath, taking in all that scent from the suits that he had and had yet to make. He tossed the suitcase on the floor and hung his striped tie on a coat rack. Nick kept the black suit on.
He tried to loosen his collar a bit, making sure that the sweat would not cause too big of a rash. "Another day without a paycheck." He whispered to himself. The fox made his way toward a stack of metal drawers. After a long sigh, he proceeded to open one drawer titled: "Whatever left". The metal drawer creaked and stopped halfway. Nick breathed through his teeth and yanked it out. The sudden vibration caused the dead plant in a pot lied on top the drawers to fall. It shattered, spraying the clumped up dirt on the floor. Nick made a mental note. "Clean it up, later." He dug into the drawer and fished out a handful of wrinkled dollar bills. "Time for L-inner." He said in a cheerful tone, trying to imitate his father.
He got out, closed the door and locked up. The five o'clock Sun shone on the shop's sign. The graffiti left by some vandal was still there. The red color conveniently obstructed the first two letters of his father's name. He would have gotten it off ages ago if detergent were cheaper. With the rule of inflation in effect, the day he got it off was postponed until, never. Just like that, he walked off and hunted for the closest Bugburger joint he could find.
Around six o'clock
"What do you want?" the teenager rabbit behind the counter said. His eyes looked dead and droopy.
Nick said. "I'll take the single patty, without anything." He usually went for the double, but time had changed. That day was not the day before. The day before, he was a few dollars richer.
Later, he took his food and got to a seat near the window. Nick took a small bite from his unimpressive L-inner. The crammed up hard-shell bugs always fall off from the patty, making it felt like he was biting on sand. As if some kid in a playground sandbox played make-pretend had given Nick whatever he scooped up and called it a burger. He sucked it up and tried to swallow it down; just like a responsible father who did not want to disappoint his son.
Nick coughed and had a look through the window. He needed a little break before taking in another bite. He watched as the animals walking by. When he was a kid, he used to make a game out of it. Just counting how many shock collars lights there was. Young Nick would do so while his father trying to figure out how to continue making clothes for all animals when 90% of the customers constantly checking the little green light and deny his products. Nick tried not to think too much of the past and focused more on the task at hand, counting the lights. The green lights bouncing up and down in the same rhythm was hypnotic to him. They numbed him from all the care that he had for the world.
However, something was different that day. There was an error, a misstep, an off-key note in this otherwise perfectly repetitive melody. One collar was not on. Nick immediately trailed his eyes upward, trying to catch the face of whoever possessed the broken collar. The clothing suggested a male small-sized predator, maybe a little shorter than Nick; the hoody prevented Nick from knowing what kind of predator he was. Nick's collar let out a quick jolt, reminded him that he should not get too excited. That time, Nick was not bothered by it. His mind was on something else. Nick quickly wrapped up the burger and shoved in his suit's pocket. He ran out of the restaurant, bumping into a few predators in the process. The fox let out a sigh of relief when the hooded predator was still in his sight. It was easy to recognize him from the crowd, thanks to the orange backpack.
Nick followed the mysterious predator across three blocks until he suddenly grinded to a halt. Nick's instinct kicked in. The predator turned around. Greeted with the sight of no one noticing him, the predator then punched the collar on his neck. The soft blow turned the light back on. Nick's ears perked up, expected to hear the sound of the predator returning to his route. Nick had a peek, verified that it was safe to continue stalking. It was then Nick noticed this predator lacked a tail.
The mysterious predator pulled out a cracked smartphone from his pocket. His head and arm's position suggested that he was looking at a map. The predator made a sharp turn. His leg movement resembled that of a comedian. Five minutes later, the predator found his destination. It was an apartment within the First district. The Predator then stood beside the garage door that led down to a parkade. He crossed his arms, waiting for something. That prompted Nick to do the same, but a few meters away and out of the predator's sight.
Before long, the garage door began to open. A car was exiting. Once the car had left and the door was half way close, the predator quickly ran toward the door, ducked and rolled inside. Nick could not believe his eyes. He was watching a violation of the law in the process. His first reaction was to call the police. However, once the phone was in his hand, a voice screamed in the back of his head. "What are you doing? Did you forget? Stalking someone is also a violation. A predator like you should know better."
Nick immediately shut off his phone's screen. That was true, he told himself. His rational mind determined that it is best to avoid this whole thing completely. He did not see a predator with a broken T.A. M. E. collar, who was committing. It would be best for him to continue his life as it is.
However, ask yourself this. How many times in your entire lifetime, did you ever listen to your rational mind? Nick's lifetime-rational-counter went down by one that day. Nick quickly ran toward the garage door. He waited for a car to open the door and did the same thing as the predator.
Nick was in. Thankfully, no one seemed to have noticed him. He had a quick look at the corners around the ceiling. There was a distinctive lack of a camera in this parkade. That made him felt assured of not getting in trouble for this (at least not yet). Nick walked casually around the rows of parked car. His eyes were scanning for the predator.
And there he was, inside the E section. The predator was constantly yanking door handles of various cars. He did so, one by one, hoping that one careless driver had forgotten to lock the door. He could always pick the lock, but that would be too messy and of course, everyone would be aware of a random predator, picking a car lock. Besides, he did not need the car anyway.
"Click", finally, he found what he was looking for- an available gray SUV. He opened the door and had a seat. He closed the door, just to make sure. The first thing he took was a bundle of electric parking tags on the rear-view mirror. He checked each carefully, deciding what to shove in his pocket and what to toss on the dried coffee floor. He opened the glove compartment and clawed out whatever was inside. Rotten carrot granola bars, a few cheap CDs and the all-important garage door controller. He took the controller and put it in his pocket.
He opened the compartment beside the gear and found a pair of shades. The predator took down the hood looked himself in the rearview mirror. He was a white cat with a pair of glasses. The glasses' frame was supposed to be black, but time had turned it into a weird shade of gray. The furs on his face, especially under his eyes were surprisingly thin. He put on the shade and checked himself out. The cheap glue on plastic sure did not make him look any better. He still looked like a thirty-something cat despite being twenty years of age.
The cat tossed the shades on the floor and put his glasses back on. He climbed on the back seat and looked back at the trunk. There were a few Elkea bags down there (empty of course), a few bottles of detergent and a shoebox. He shook the box and the sound it made put a smile on his face. He took the box and opened it. Inside, was a pair of brand new rabbit track shoes. He had a look at the number. If he had been a rabbit, they would fit him perfectly. Still, he took the shoes out with a big smile, like this was the hidden treasure that he was looking for. He forcefully shoved the shoes inside his backpack. The track shoes rested among the nest of wires, electronic devices, small tools, spray body paint, bobby pins, and two more smartphones. Both of which were cracked severely.
He stepped out of the car and saw Nick looking at him. Nick's eyes were widening. It was not like every day, you could see a cat in Zootopia. And not in a million years should you find one in this situation. The cat gave Nick a wide cheeky grin. His eyes kept looking away, thinking of an excuse of the sort. However, after seeing Nick just looking at him without saying much, the cat made a last resort move. He punched Nick in the face. The hit was rather weak, but that was all that the cat needed. While Nick was stunned, he pushed the fox to the side and ran toward the exit.
As soon as he was back to his senses, Nick followed him. Nick's heart began to pump harder, prompted the collar to put a shock on him. He did not falter, instead, he bit through the shock and increase his speed. Nick got out of the parkade and chased after the cat in the guest parking lot. The white-fured mammal got on the road and jumped, preemptively avoided an oncoming car. Nick was not as fast. As a result, the last things the fox could remember were the sound of the horn and the feeling of his body bumped into something, followed by his face met a hard surface.
Author note:
Thank you so much for reading. If you enjoyed what you have just read and wished to see more, please follow or leave a review. They would give me the motivation to write more for everyone. All feedbacks will be appreciated. If you find anything lacking or flawed in my story (grammar, word use, etc.), please tell me in the reviews as well. I shall do my best to update these chapters sooner and make them more polished. This is one of my first stories so please forgive possible mistakes in the future and help me fix them.
Thanks again and have a pleasant day.