EDIT: Cover art used with permission of the amazing Littleivy25, who can be found on DeviantArt-dot-com!
Judy sighed heavily as she pushed the door to her locker shut. The last hour in the cruiser with Nick had been nothing but pun after pun, even when she resorted to hitting him. Thankfully the moment she had started the engine and announced that they were returning to the station Nick had fallen silent. Hopefully, she thought, he'll stay that way.
She stepped past Doris and gave a small wave of goodbye to her. Nick had complained enough to her about the rough-housing that occasionally took place in the male locker-room, the pranks that he always seemed to be the punchline for... she had found that, when no longer surrounded by testosterone, the pantheress was a lot more subdued and far less prone to cracking innuendo-laden phrases. Doris gave a small, almost shy smile and gave a quiet 'see ya'.
Nick was waiting for her. His fur was a little lighter than earlier, especially on the top of his head. She squinted a little and realised he'd probably been hit with a flour bomb of some kind. That certainly explained the lack of a smirk. He'd done a good job of cleaning it off, at least. Mostly.
"I take it you forgot to check?" Judy asked. She walked past Nick and heard him shift as he began to walk slightly behind her.
"I just wanted to get out of here. I'm bored, I'm tired, I want a pizza, a beer and a movie. Preferably not the pub." he groused.
Judy turned and gave him a smile. "Don't you worry, Nick. We'll have a nice relaxed night."
A door clicked open and revealed Chief Tusker. The warthog gave a wide grin as he saw the duo. "Ah, Judy! Nicholas!" he said, stepping in front of them. "I was hoping I could ask a favour of you both?"
Nick's expression grew stormy and Judy's own smile faltered a little. "Sure, chief, what can we do for you?" she asked.
"Well, I was hoping to tempt you both with a bit of excitement. You see, there's an event tonight and I was wondering if you could represent Bushel Fields' police contingent. Best of all, it's free."
Judy could tell Nick was at least a little intrigued. This sounded a little out of the ordinary, something to break the monotony of things. "Sure thing, chief, we'd be glad to." she said.
"Wonderful news," Tusker said, beaming as he pushed two small slips of paper into her paw. "I hope you enjoy it."
The chief left almost as swiftly as he had appeared and Judy soon realised why. In her paws she held two tickets. Two tickets for the opening night of the Bushel Fields' Amateur Dramatics Society's production of Romeo and Juliet. Starring Martin Blower... and Evelyn Draper.
Judy let out a groan and let her head droop forwards in resignation. At Nick's noise of curiosity she held the tickets up above her head, facing him. She let her arm drop back to her side as she heard Nick's groan of dismay. When she heard his forehead thump against the wall three times she reached behind her, grabbed his shirt sleeve, and dragged him out of the station. The wolf at the front desk, his fur ruffled and disheveled once again, looked up from his novel long enough to mutter a 'Goodnight' as they left. Nick, Judy noticed, put his paw against his temple in imitation of a pistol and barked an imitation of a gunshot.
She almost copied him.
Judy sat in the audience with her eyes glazed over and her jaw slack. Her mind, over the last two hours, had been so anaesthetised and numbed that she could barely comprehend the accurate but horrifically delivered lines of Shakespaw that the two mammals she cautioned for speeding earlier were trotting out. Blower over-acted every single motion, making even the subtlest of gestures a full-blown extravagance. He forced so much effort into projecting his voice that he had experienced at least two coughing fits during the second act and had grown steadily hoarser in the third. 'Eve' Draper, by comparison, was completely unable to act. Every line was delivered without the slightest inflection and Judy had the horrible feeling that somewhere in the front row, Eve's lines were actually written out for her. And her voice! Judy would have felt bad for thinking it, if she hadn't been subjected to such torture, but Eve Draper's country bumpkin accent was almost worse than Gideon Gray's had been, all dropped-consonants and elongated vowels. Shakespaw was spinning in his grave, Judy was sure.
She gathered her courage and energy, concentrating hard on breaking away from the disaster happening in front of her and what felt like the rest of the village, and dared to look at Nick.
He was in a bad way. The fox was slumped so far down in his chair his eyes were level with her shoulders. He was gazing at the stage as she had, eyes glassy and mouth hanging open. His tongue lolled out across his teeth and he was drooling slightly, making no moves to clear the mess. From the small damp spot on his shirt, he'd been at it a while. Judy lifted a paw and prodded him gently. There was no response.
Judy sincerely hoped he was just sleeping with his eyes open. Her own sense of workaholic-like duty kept her awake and barely coherent, and she would much rather spare Nick the agony if she could. Life, it appeared, was cruel. Death, possibly at this point, a mercy.
Judy's ears perked a little. She recognised that line. It was nearly over! She focused her attention back on the stage, suddenly awake again as the end of her ordeal was in sight. Eve was laid out on a cloth-draped table in center stage, unlit candelabra surrounding it. Blower was still giving an awful performance, croaking out his final lines.
"Oh true apothecary!" Blower crowed, coughing a little. "Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die!"
He laid beside Eve's body, shuffling slightly as he tried to get comfortable on the surface. His 'death' was somewhat spoiled by the muffled grunts and growls as he tried to ease his ailing vocal chords. The pair remained where they were until a voice hissed from stage right. "Eve! Eve, it's time!"
The doe sat upright immediately, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. She smiled widely at the audience and, in possibly her most convincing acting of the night so far, looked down upon the body of her 'beloved'. "What's here? Poison!" she cried, swooning back and bringing the back of her paw to her forehead. "I know; I'll kiss thy lips, ere some doth remain on 'em."
Judy frowned. That wasn't right; the lines were supposed to be longer. And where was the scene with Barkasar and Friar Laurence? Her frown grew even more when the chaste kiss of a young maiden joining her love in the sweet embrace of eternal slumber was replaced by a rather more... sultry affair, the soft moans of pleasure and visible sight of colliding tongues as the weasel and the bunny kissed for a full thirty seconds. Judy glared hard, hoping her sight could inflict the final dagger. Her eyes widened however, as Eve pulled an obviously fake gun from beneath the table and pressed it against her temple, yelling 'BANG!' as the lights of the stage cut out and left Judy and the rest of the audience in pitch darkness.
Judy's mouth fell open in shock. The entire play had been, until now, set in the correct time period. WHY was there a gun? Her disbelief grew when, after a quick shuffling of set-pieces, the stagelights came back on and a song and dance finale was played out in front of her.
Through it all, Nick remained still, the only sign of life the steady drip of drool onto his shirt.
The foyer of the playhouse was filled with the prior occupants of the theatre. Judy thanked all of the gods of all the religions she had ever heard of as she made a beeline for the complimentary champagne, downing two glasses and snatching a third before Nick had caught up. The fox was still decidedly dazed and seemed to have been struck by short-term amnesia, not remembering anything of the horrendous display beyond actually arriving at the theatre.
Judy gasped for breath, raising her third glass of the gently-fizzing alcohol to her lips and taking a large gulp. This was most definitely not how the drink was meant to be imbibed, but if it helped her wipe that... travesty from her mind... She made to drain the rest of the glass but Nick's paw stopped her. He had reached forward, wrapping his digits about hers and holding her paw in place. He looked concerned.
"Trust me, Nick," she said, peeling his paw away and draining the glass. "You might not remember, but what I just saw in there will haunt me for a very long time. If I come out of tonight and can forget even half it, I will be able to die happy."
Nick blinked slowly, still slightly befuddled by his memory loss. "Was it really that... bad?"
Judy fixed him with a glare. "It was bad enough, Nicholas Wilde, that you are currently in the throes of suppressing the memory. You were practically comatose the entire way through. I have never seen something so utterly and completely change how I look at acting and stage-shows as much as I have tonight."
"How wonderful of you to say so!" a much less hoarse Martin Blower said, the crowds milling around parting before him like he was some form of messiah... or smelled like stale popcorn. "I say, Timmy, did you hear that?"
Judy froze as the weasel beamed at her. Tim Messenger, the reporter-bunny from the site of George Merchant's death, appeared as swiftly as if he'd been pulled from a hat with his dictaphone in hand. "I sure did, Mr Blower." the enthusiastic buck said, pressing the button to replay what he had captured.
"... I have never seen something so utterly and completely change how I look at acting and stage-shows as much as I have tonight."
Judy's eyes widened in horror, as did Nick's. "So," Messenger said with a smile, "Can I use that as a direct quote?"
Judy's jaw worked as she tried to say 'no', but she had been blindsided. She was supposed to be the one catching mammals out with a voice recorder. This was... this was animal cruelty. She finally managed to recover and her teeth came together to begin the 'n' of 'no'.
"I should think such glowing praise needs to be on the front page, don't you Tim?"
Judy's mouth fell open again as Simon Renner slunk into view, slipping an arm around Messenger's shoulders for a moment before the reporter gave a squeal of fright and dashed away. Renner laughed, a sinister sound as he watched Messenger scamper away with a dangerous gleam in his eyes. Judy heard Nick's growl but didn't have chance to calm him before Renner had focused on her. "Well, well, Officer Judy Hopps. I must say, I am quite a fan of your work. You've put a lot of effort in to get... well, here. Speaking of hard work, I must say Martin, you absolutely killed it up there today. I imagine that your performance tonight will be hailed as one of your finest."
The weasel puffed up his chest and gave a smug grin. "Well, you know me, Simon. A weasel of many talents."
"Indeed you are my friend and, speaking of, we must of course congratulate our leading doe. Evie Draper, you are looking as rare as ever." Renner said, offering a toothy grin to the bunny that was practically hanging from Blower's arm.
Judy's teeth gritted as a high-pitched and grating giggle, interspersed with a snort or two, came from the other rabbit. Judy could hear Nick's teeth grinding too, although probably for an entirely different reason.
"Thank you Mr Renner," Eve said, "but I kept forgetting my lines. Seems like I just couldn't keep 'em up there."
"Oh Evie, my dear, I'm sure that's nothing to worry about," Renner said with a sly grin. He reached out a paw and stroked a claw gently down Eve's cheek. "After all, a smart little thing like you must just be full of secrets that keep pushing less important things like lines out. Why, I'm almost convinced if we were to bash your head in all sorts of things would come tumbling out into the light of day."
Judy practically heard the 'twang' as Nick's resolve snapped and he stepped forward to give Renner a seething, fury-fuelled piece of his mind. She grabbed his paw and squeezed hard. "I'm terribly sorry, everyone, but myself and Nick must really be getting on. It's been quite a night and we've got an early start tomorrow. Mr Renner, a pleasure to meet you. Miss Draper, Mr Blower... drive safe."
Before any of them could speak, including Nick, she whipped around and walked at speed to the exit, Nick following in her wake like flames followed a rocket.
Once they were a few streets from the bustle of the theatre Judy stopped walking quite as fast and allowed Nick to catch up. "Do you want to tell me why you just dragged me away from that sleazy, no-good scum-bag from that rabbit? He was practically trying to eat her in front of everyone, talking about her like a piece of- of- of meat, and-"
Judy stomped her foot upon Nick's and grabbed a pawfull of his shirt as he yelped. "Nicholas Piberius Wilde; shut. up. I am fully aware of the language being used by that submammal and you are going to control your mouth before I control it for you."
"But he was-"
"I do not care, Nick. I don't! Is what he said offensive to prey? Yes. Apparently it's just as offensive to you. Now, we are not going to go ballistic at a fox the word 'stereotype' was apparently created for, especially when he could easily be a suspect."
That shut Nick up for a moment. "A suspect? A suspect for what?"
"Think about it Nick. You've told me about what he said in his office with you before we chased the wolf down. He's creepy in general, is almost definitely a predator-supremacist, yet was seen completely sober with a heavily intoxicated pig just a few hours before said pig's death. A death which, I'd like to remind you, completely destroyed 'that monstrosity of a house on the outskirts'. We need to see if there's motive beyond just hating prey."
Nick calmed a little, giving Judy a raised eyebrow. "Seriously? Carrots, the coroner pretty much ruled out foul play. All the evidence points to it being an accident, and yeah, I agree that it's suspicious as all heck, but do you really think that we've somehow managed to stumble onto something straight from an episode of Midsummer Murders?"
Judy's own eyebrow raised. "Midsummer who-now?"
"It's a TV show... murder-mysteries in a village... never mind. Look, the point is that Renner is a scumbag, but a murdering scumbag? I'm not exactly his greatest fan and even I have trouble seeing it."
Judy folded her arms and glared at Nick. "Fine. Fifty bucks says we dig and we find something."
Nick threw his arms up in defeat. "Fine, Hopps. Fine. If we find some dirt, you win. If we find out he's just a creep, I win." He held out a paw. "Deal?"
Judy grabbed Nick's paw with her own and shook it firmly. "Deal. Now let's go buy some beers and get a pizza. I am angry and hungry and I just need to drown out that insanity with something before I lose my head completely."
Judy stomped off, Nick slouching along behind her. "Me too, Judes. Me too."
Eve Draper heard a soft knock upon the door to her dressing room. She giggled to herself as she stood from her chair in front of a lit mirror and walked to the entrance, pulling the door open and leaning against the doorframe seductively. "Why 'ello there, Miss-shure Blower. Come to practice the final scene again?"
Martin Blower gave a sly grin and stepped into Eve's room, knocking the door shut with his foot. He held a bottle of champagne he had snaffled from the reception as everyone else left and gave Eve a swift peck of a kiss upon her cheek as he unwound the cork and popped the bottle open.
The couple kissed, as passionately as Judy Hopps had seen them upon the stage earlier. They jumped slightly and parted as a rather stern and strong knocking sounded from the door. Martin Blower looked at it quizzically before walking over. He grasped the handle and opened the door. "Now look here-" he said, before he was rather abruptly interrupted.
After all, a medium-sized fire axe to the neck does tend to make it rather difficult to speak.
Martin Blower's final moments were spent looking at a figure in flowing black robes. He felt a rather odd jerk around his shoulders as the figure moved again, an axe glinting in the soft light coming from Eve's mirror. He fell backwards, watching in slow motion as Eve came into view. She had a spray of some odd red liquid across her face and she looked like she was screaming. Martin was confused by this. He couldn't hear anything apart from a strange roaring in his ears. At counterpoint to this, there was a rather distinct lack of a noise he couldn't quite place. It was only when the back of his skull hit the floor and he felt himself roll that he realised, rather too late, that his head had been separated violently from his torso. As if to confirm his theory, he watched his killer step over his own body and raise the axe to Eve.
Martin Blower's sight became grey and fuzzy at the edges, but through sheer force of will he remained alive to bear witness to his lover's death. Isn't that what true love was? Witnessing your partner at their best and worst, and fighting for them to the end, no matter what.
With that, the stage lights dimmed and the roar of applause in his ears faded to silence. Exeunt.