Disclaimer: "Zootopia" is owned by the Magical World of Walt Disney Pictures and Walt Disney Animation Studios. The "Sly Cooper" videogame series is owned by Sony, Sucker-Punch Productions, and Sanzaru Games. There are also aspects that will be borrowed from or directly inspired from Zootopia's pre-production works and concepts from Nicolaswilde's "Zistopia" Tumblr blog. Said story itself is a fan-based non-profit work of fiction written strictly for entertainment purposes only. Please support the official releases. Thank you.
Fox Point
By MaveriKat & Nanya
Beta Read By Innortal
Chapter 9: Blue Light Special
The Good Migrations Grocery Store was a place of business settled within Zootopia's Downtown District that primarily revolved around the sale of consumable goods–whether they were sold as single servings or in bulk capacity–as to better serve the ever-hungry mammal populace. Offering various foods that were packaged in cans, bottles, plastic wrap, and boxes, along with also having fresh produce, a thriving deli, and a bakery for fresh goods, the store catered to the many tastes of the various animals of the city. Of course, food wasn't the only thing that Good Migrations offered to run a better household. The store also stocked up on non-perishable goods and even had an on-site pharmacy! Indeed, the prey mammals that migrated to the store and back for their daily or weekly upkeep found it to be a good thing.
And being a chain store whose parent company existed outside of Zootopia, their store policies were much more lax when it came to their animal customers of a more predatory nature... hence why a pair of vulpine men were currently on the hunt... for a good bargain! They were being paid to take care of a certain Hispanic policewoman's grocery shopping for her while she went about her first day on the force. A petite sandy-furred fennec sat in the child's seat of a shopping cart, the mammal settled at a good height to look at the higher shelves while a taller, suave and somewhat smarmy crimson-pelted red fox was on the ground, pushing the cart along the aisle.
"What do you see up there, Finnick?" The red fox asked as he continued to press himself up against the large metal construction so he pushed the large cart; his arms trembling as he continued to keep the carriage moving. While he was rather pleased that the grocery store thought to include a lower set of handle bars for the shorter animals like him... the canid was overall annoyed he was the one who had to propel a mass of steel on wheels sized for the much larger mammals that just got heavier with each item added.
Reaching out and running his index finger along the shelf, the tiny vulpine withdrew his hand and stared at his fingertip. "Dust," the orange-eyed vulpine replied as he began to rub his finger and thumb together. "Lots and lots of dust..." he shook his head in absolute disgust, making his oversized ears wobble. "Seriously, do the peons they got working here ever clean these shelves?"
Hearing the bitching of his compatriot, Nicholas sighed. It made sense, really. He doubted any of the larger prey population would accept the cashier or janitorial positions, leaving such to the smaller mammals like his species to do the cleaning... and like hell they'd risk falling from that height! "Can't be helped buddy," he told the tiny tod as he pulled a list of of his pocket and took a gander. "Do you see the… er... how the hell do you pronounce this?" he grumbled, holding up the list to his somewhat-friend.
Bending down slightly, he grasped the very tip of the paper offered before pulling it up. Sitting back down in the child's seat of the carriage, Finnick looked at the item, then at the dusty items all around him–seriously, did none of the teenagers working here no how to keep a clean shelf!? One elephant with an allergy and this place would be a blood-bath!
He then blinked his eyes realization of what he was looking at in the writing actually hit home. "Ah! It says, 'alfalfa' Wilde. Specifically, Officer Fox wants some alfalfa sprouts."
That comment made the crimson-pelted canid blink his viridian eyes in surprise. "Alfalfa? Really?" He chirruped. "I mean, what the heck would she want that stuff for? It's..." he paused, not even sure how to describe it. He grew up in a somewhat vegetarian household and that NEVER came up! "Is that even a canned vegetable!?"
"Actually, it's an herb," the small desert fox replied. "But she wants the sprouts... which means she wants something with a bit of body for eating rather than flavoring. We'll pick 'em up later in produce but for now, mush! Mush boy! Down the lane so we can search the rest of this aisle for anything else on this list..." which the short-statured vulpine decided he was keeping. He was the one at the eye-level for the shelves, so it was better with him anyway.
Sighing, Nick nodded and gave the cart a firm push once more to get it rolling, occasionally turning his head left and right to check out either side, on the lookout for anything that tickled his memory as having been on Carmelita's list. Really thought? He was just doing anything he could to prolong their visit the dreaded aisle they were saving for the end...
The feminine hygiene product aisle!
But until then, they would get the canned and bagged goods first, followed by produce, deli, and frozen, before the male vulpines would have to visit...
Shuddering, the red fox paused in pushing the cart to take hold of his wits. Shaking his head, he focus on shopping, reaching out and grabbing a few cans of soup off one of the lower shelves. Officer Fox hadn't asked for name-brand, but he didn't want to upset the lovely Latina vixen by getting the el-cheapo off-name brands.
Gazing down to see why Wilde had come to a stop, the fennec raised an eyebrow in surprise as he saw what his partner was holding in his grimy paws. "Name brand?" Fennick asked in annoyance. "Really? You want to spend all that money on name brands?"
Looking up at his partner, the canid con-mammal saw the rather cross expression on his face and merely shrugged his shoulders. "She didn't say one way or the other."
"What about the bottom line?" The fennec was quick to point out.
Again, Nick merely shrugged. "We're not paying," he said as he stood on his tip-toes and held up one of the cans for the smaller vulpine to take from him and put in the basket proper.
Looking down at the offered can of cream of mushroom soup, Finnick snorted in disgust at the thought someone could afford be so wasteful with their money. "I tell you Wilde, I'm jealous of her. All the cash to get top label products without a second thought..." he sighed and shook his head while dropping the can into the basket of the cart. "We could easily slash a third off the final cost at the counter if we were to just pick up the store's brands at the very least."
"I repeat: not our place big guy," Nick replied as he handed up another can of Lambbell's soup. "Okay we got tomato soup," he handed the vulpine the next can. "We got broccoli and cheddar soup," again, another aluminum container went up. "We got creamed corn..."
Puckering his lips, the smaller vulpine made a face of disgust. "Creamed corn? Blech!" He shook his head. "Even if it's from a name brand, that stuff is still disgusting!"
"I thought that was just with hominy," Nick pondered curiously at the desert fox's reaction.
"That too," Fennick waved off to let him know he wasn't a fan of the white balls of... whatever the hell they were. "There is a whole category about yucky vegetables. That's why they're either on the highest shelf or the bottom while the stuff that will sell is in the middle for easy access. Again, Wilde... it's all about the bottom line!"
The crimson-pelted vulpine nodded his head in agreement before he began to push the cart once more, taking firm hold so they could make a turn into the next aisle. "I can't believe she wants all this... variety." So many different cans of soup; what was wrong with purchasing the bulk packages? It was the same amount of brand name food for less!
"Some mammals aren't satisfied with the simple things," Fennick said sagely, as he looked at the next item on the shelves before him in stunned silence. The large-eared vulpine then turned his head back and forth from the list and the actual items on the shelves a number of times, only to sigh in defeat as the woman indeed wanted one of these. "Spaghetti sauce? In a jar!?" He shook his head sadly. Whatever happened to homemade; a mix of tomato sauce and paste...
"Oh, just relax," Nick told his partner. "We're not the one's eating it... and we're still getting paid thirty bucks an hour to pick it up so man up, my little buddy. Man up!"
The tiny vulpine twitched. "You are so lucky you're down there, Wilde... I would kick you in the shins for that, 'little' crack... but..." a devious grin split across Fennick muzzle. "I'm up here, with the glass jars... and you're down there with no cover..." he said meaningfully.
"Glass jars that we'll have to pay for if they're busted," Nick replied with a smile, hoping to get his semi-friend to calm down by hitting him where it mattered: his wallet.
And just like that, the desert fox removed his raised hand from the shelf, showing that the other male vulpine's words had a profound effect on him. Still, he wasn't about to let Wilde off the hook just yet! "…You do realize I'm coming down from here at some point. Maybe at the end of the aisle, maybe sooner, or maybe even later but the point is, I shall have my revenge." Either way, he crumpled the list into a ball and threw it down at the taller vulpine to drive the point home.
Nodding his head as the paper ball bounced off the top of it, Nick just smiled lightly in response. He could, of course, make a comment about putting his friend inside the child seat on the cart... but that might be pushing things a bit too far... and would definitely end with him getting a concussion and needing help to get shards of glass out of his scalp. Such had happened once before when the tiny guy slammed his foot on the brakes in the middle of traffic to send him flying into the windshield. Not only did the red fox have to pay that mob doctor in Tundratown under the table for those stitches but then his little pal had the gall to charge him so he could replace said windshield his forehead put a series of cracks in.
So deciding that retreat from this topic was the better course of valor, the vulpine continued to push the cart and change the subject. With any luck, the petite ball of vulpine rage would forget soon enough. "Hey, while we're here..." he paused in his pushing as something caught his eye. Nick then bent down and picked up the paper ball. He began uncurling it so he could get back to reading the list, calling out the first thing he saw. "Do you see any Tuna Helper?" As he continued to look at the paper, the crimson-pelted canid couldn't help but chuckle. I can't believe she even wrote down, 'makes a great meal', he thought with a bit of amusement.
Standing up in the children's seat, the tiny fennec turned about on the small plastic seating pad, gazing all about the higher shelves for it. His head turned to his right, his bright orange eyes widened as he did indeed see the requested item. "Ah! Further on ahead, Wilde! And keep to the right!" he quickly proclaimed as he sat himself down.
Nodding his head in understanding, Nick pressed his hands against the lower handlebar and began pushing, letting out a grunt as he did so. The cans were already adding more weight that fought against what force his skinny little arms could produce. "Oh sweet Cheeses... Zerdan, we need to get you a diet!" He proclaimed, putting the blame of the weight on his partner and not on Carmelita's groceries.
...What? He was technically saying the fennec was larger and thereby complimenting him!
As he became rather intimate with his friend's foot as it connected with his jaw, the canid con-mammal felt he should have gotten points for not making the easy jokes about his friend being in the kid seat.
Watching his taller partner stumble a bit in a dizzy state for a moment, the petite fox crossed his arms over his chest in a menacing manner–an impressive feat for someone barely two feet in height. "Now, if you're done being an idiot, can you quit acting like you've never been in a grocery store before," Fennick growled. "And look at the aisle signs above your head."
Rubbing his jaw to soothe the pain from the fennec's snap-kick, Nick looked up...
And up...
And up some more...
"...Ye~eeeeeeah..." the male red fox in Hawaiian shirt drawled out as he could already feel his neck creak from bending it back so much. "That's not gonna happen any time soon. They're up there too darn high!"
"...I can read them," Fennick waved off his partner's complaint. A devious little smirk blossomed on the petite vulpine's muzzle as he took a shot at his partner's annoyance with getting older. "I guess your eyesight just must be going finally, old man."
Twitching, the canid con-mammal placed his hands on his hips and glared up at the tiny fox in the shopping cart. "Really? Want me to toss you up there for a closer look?"
The desert fox barked out a laugh at Wilde's attempt to appear threatening. "Oh please! You can barely move a shopping cart. I doubt you have the upper arm strength to actually toss me more than a foot!"
"If I only throw you a foot, that's just me living up to the old sagely advice of only trusting someone as far as you can throw 'em," Nick was quick to reply. "And I do have upper body strength. I'm quite capable for a red fox!" The pawpsicle hustler proclaimed as he stepped back and struck a pose, flexing his arms and making his biceps... well... twitch. "Look at this! I'm the very example of pure, manly-mammal vulpine!"
Leaning over and looking down at his illegitimate business partner, Finnick raised his right eyebrow in curiosity. "...You know, if Vanilla or Cherry were around, they'd have so much to say..." he murmured. Between Psychotherapy and Modern Literature majors, they were both educated women who found Wilde to be a rather interesting fellow. The kind of mammal they used to write thesis papers about for their college courses.
"And Angel?" Nick queried as he continued to strike poses to bolster his ego.
Shrugging his shoulders, the petite predator simply replied, "She'd merely tell you to stop acting like an idiot and get to work... probably after she popped you in the jaw!" After all, having majored in Engineering, the middle child of the Arctic vixen triplets was more into the, 'Insert Fist A into Mouth B' line of approach. "Be that as it may though," he began as he kicked his legs out, pushing them through the two slots of the child's sear as if he were a little kid. "We need to get a move on! I know we're getting paid by the hour but even Officer Fox said that she's a stickler about us just wasting time! If we're not prompt, we can't bum a free lunch off of her! And after picking up all this food for Honey and her that would really suck!"
"Yeah, yeah," Nick smirked–trying to ignore the flash of pain of something that he might have pulled.
Raising an eyebrow at the other vulpine's noticeable twitch, the tinier of the two vulpine's raised an eyebrow in concern. "Seriously, how do you handle this on your own for yourself?" Finnick asked curiously. They'd only gotten to Aisle Four and his fellow canid predator already looked ready to pass out.
Tilting his head side to side to work out the creak in his neck, the Hawaiian shirt-clad vulpine took a moment to rotate his right arm in its socket. "That's because I normally do this quickly; in and out. I know where the important stuff is: canned meat, instant ramen cups, soda, etcetera, etcetera..." he replied, attempting to wave off his semi-buddy's concern.
Mulling over that response for a moment, the tiny vulpine's ears flattened back in both concern and annoyance. "...You know," Finnick spoke. "Shouldn't you have gone to college, before eating like you're attending one?"
Raising an eyebrow, the male vulpine raised his head to meet the firm gaze of his partner up high in the children's seat. "There is nothing wrong with my diet," Nick firmly declared.
Crossing his arms over his chest, the tiny vulpine replied, "Dude, I live in the back of a van! And even I know the value of a good meal! Just because I go for off-label brands doesn't mean I can't also whip up something nice for myself." He smirked. "You haven't lived until you've tried my three-bean, five-cheese dip with sour cream and guacamole! I make a dish of that and I have a meal for two that keeps Cherry and I warm on those cold Tundratown nights."
The taller of the two vulpine con-mammals twitched. Why did the little prick have to keep bringing up his relationship with Cherry lately? It felt like the little guy was trying to rub it in his face. "I do happen to eat more than what I listed. I'll have you know that I also pay two bucks out of my share to enjoy one of our pawpsicles now and then."
Finnick glared down at his partner-in-law bending. "Wilde..." he began in a chiding tone.
"What's wrong with our pawpsicles!?" The taller of the two predators snapped in response. "They're organic! Chock full of vitamins and minerals!" He chimed out in his defense.
The desert fox snorted. "Any vitamins is from the less than one-percent actual juice. And the minerals it pulls from the terracotta roof shingles of the houses the syrup rolls down in the Sahara Square District are about as organic as those things get!" He paused. "Well, the roof shingles and anything else the pawpsicle fluid manages to pull out of the rain gutters they pour out through."
"I like to refer to that as roughage!" Nick chirruped merrily. God knew a pawpsicle a day could help him stay regular, despite his ramen-induced constipation.
Continuing to look down at his fellow fox, the tiny mammal sighed in exasperation. "Wilde, you do realize even when you were living in that boiler room, you had a sink, a hot plate, and pots to cook with," Finnick continued. "You can make real food! You know: stuff that doesn't come out of a plastic wrapper."
"Once again, nothing wrong with what I eat," was the red fox's staunch denial.
Glaring down at the mammal in deeper in denial than an Egyptian local, the desert fox pulled out the big guns. "...Don't make me tell Honey on you."
Nick paused, visibly startled by that threat before collecting himself and meeting his fellow fox's glare with his own. "That's low."
The petit predator let off a snort. "Hey, I'm just looking out for you," Finnick continued, ignoring the other mammal's angry stare. "You can eat better on your own accord or Honey will make you. Either way, you're gonna get healthy food stuffed into you, it just depends on how much in one sitting."
Realizing he wasn't going to get his partner-in-law bending to drop it, Wilde rolled his eyes in annoyance. "When did this go from shopping for Carmelita to MY personal diet?"
"When I suddenly realized just how big and buff your dad was while you're even more of a waif than your mom," the desert fox said in all seriousness.
The crimson-pelted canid in viridian Hawaiian shirt looked up with a half-lidded gaze that would have been more at home on the fennec's face. "...Low blow dude. Low fudging blow..."
The tiny vulpine snorted. "I'm serious man. Look, just get me down the aisle a bit further to pick up some Tuna Helper and then we'll go to the deli. We'll start this off easy, get you some cheeses... something to give you stronger bones and put some weight on you..." he trailed off as he thought about it. "The good kind of weight, not what that fatass Clawhauser let himself turn into," he added quickly. Bad enough the cheetah became a cop of all things but he let himself go terribly!
Inhaling deeply to try and calm himself, the taller vulpine mammal held it in for a few seconds before exhaling in exasperation. "Can we just drop my diet, please?" The red fox practically pleaded with his compatriot in conning.
"No," was the fennec's firm response. "Simply put, I don't want to hear you whining at me for weeks that she doesn't want to date you because you're too skinny."
Needless to say, that accusation caught the taller predator's attention. "Who said I was going to ask her out?"
Finnick gave him a hooded gaze. "We're at a grocery store, getting her food."
"We're being paid to do so," was the red fox's blunt response.
The petite vulpine continued to speak as if he hadn't been interrupted. "She's also a fox–literally and figuratively–has a pulse, and you're due for another crash-and-burn relationship at this point."
The con-mammal twitched. The male red fox absolutely despised being reminded of his numerous failed relationships. "...She's a cop," he finally said, trying to use one of Finnick's own arguments against him.
The fennec didn't even blink. "Oh, like that would be the worst issue you've ever had in a relationship." The desert fox said seriously. "Remember Krystal? Girl was jumping between biker gangs and dying her fur blue! I think it's safe to say Officer Fox has at least a little more on the ball than she did."
Nick lowered his head, groaning in aggravation. He placed his hands on the handlebar and began pushing the cart a bit more before coming to a stop. "Just... just grab the Tuna Helper already."
Chuckling a bit at his heterosexual business partner's discomfort, the petite vulpine stood on his tip-toes before reaching up, managing to knock a box into the cart, where it landed atop of and bounced off one of the cans of soups and vegetables. Nodding his head when it hadn't broken open from such a rough landing, he turned about and sat down in the child's seat of the cart once more. "Okay, Wilde! To the deli counter! Mush you old dog, MUSH!"
"Hey!" The red fox clad in a green Hawaiian shirt called out in obvious irritaition. "I'm not pulling this damned thing! I'm pushing it! If anything, you're the one I should be telling to mush!" He told his partner in a threatening manner...
...Only to have the threat die in his throat as a feminine voice crooned out, "Oh, what an adorable child!"
Both vulpine males twitched as they turned towards the sight of an overweight feline woman. A snow leopardess to be precise, meaning a lot of her rounded frame was her breed's winter weight that kept her comfortable in the arctic chill of the Tundratown District. And oh, she was dressed rather smartly, with a lovely white blouse with baby blue jacket and skirt combination, with sheer stockings and white open-toed high-heeled shoes; definitely the high end of business fashion. "I just want to say it's so nice to see a father spending time with their kid," she purred, bending over to peer at the fox in the child's seat of the cart.
Finnick raised an eyebrow. Now he may have been in a relationship with Cherry but even he could see potential when he saw it... and no one could ever say he wasn't a sucker for the larger women–even the Arctic vixen stood a head taller than him. So opening his eyes as wide as he could so that they shimmered with the reflected illumination of the florescent lights above him, the vulpine smiled as sweetly as possible. He then yipped out, as cutely as he could in as high pitched a voice as he could manage, "Ba-ba!"
And then the desert fox dove his head into the woman's cleavage without preamble. Enjoying the surprising amount of warmth and softness, he brought his hands atop the woman's mammaries, massaging them most happily. Oh, how he had always wanted to experience, 'marshmallow hell' and this snow leopardess had THE most absolute perfect mounds of winter snow for him to enjoy!
Nick twitched at how his partner in hustle enjoyed himself despite being in a relationship, the red fox's muzzle opening to correct the woman... only to snap his trap shut as a thought came to him. Seeing the pair like that caused the gears of his mind to begin spinning, as Wilde's head was slowly filled with numerous ideas for future endeavors for them to try once Carmelita had moved on. Particularly since he knew one of his dad's colleagues in the tailoring business specialized in costumes for children... i.e. mammals that were Finnick's size.
A~aaand show time, the red fox thought gleefully before coughing a few times to clear his throat. "Thank you, ma'am," he said graciously once he was able to find his voice. "But... er..." he purposely stuttered, making a show of appearing anxious.
Noticing the discomfort of the, 'father' the feline female turned her head to give him her attention. "What?" The woman asked in confusion. "Is something wrong?"
"Nothing much," the canid con-mammal said slowly, in a careful manner. "It's just you might want to put him down; we just got back from the doctors."
The rosette-patterned feline woman's eyes went wide with surprise, unaware that Finnick was sending him a, 'do not fuck this up for me' glare. "Doctor's!?" She squeaked, suddenly feeling fearful for the little boy. Come to think of it, she had thought his voice sounded a little deep for such a small child.
"Yeah," Nick said, trying to look embarrassed—he'd had plenty of practice with his lifestyle. "My poor boy," the male vulpine continued. "He's got a bad, and I mean BAD case of Pachydermitis! Thinks he's an elephant! Clings to the nearest big women he sees, because his brain sees and registers them as an elephant!" Seeing the shock on her face, he quickly added, "Now don't be too alarmed. It's nothing contagious–thank Gouda–but I'm just letting you know because of it, he might get a tad grabby... you hold him there for too long and he might go digging in there searching for peanuts."
"Oh, the poor dear," the snow leopardess cooed as she hugged the smaller vulpine tighter in her arms, keeping his face buried in the valley of her bosom. "Do the doctors say it can be cured?"
Smiling in a kindly manner, the male vulpine nodded his head in affirmation. "Oh it certainly can with a lot of immersion therapy," the male said in all seriousness, despite the fact he was blowing smoke out his tail-hole. "I need to get him an elephant costume, let him have peanuts once a day, take him out to spend time around real elephants... eventually his mind should adjust as the years go on and he doesn't get any bigger while they do. For now though, do be careful with him. My boy, the little stinker... he just ain't right in the head!"
For his part, the desert fox merely kept quiet. While his partner wasn't exactly cock-blocking him outright, the crimson-pelted creep sure was getting his licks in on this.
Considering that bit of information for a moment, the female feline eventually nodded her head in understanding. "Well, I suppose that's not too bad," she replied, holding Finnick up and getting a good look at him. "I was afraid you were going to say he had fleas or–Furry God forbid–ticks!"
"Oh no, ma'am, you don't have to worry about that!" Wild said rather jovially. It took all the fox's force of will to keep his smile from becoming an outright devious one. "But I do thank you for reminding me. I need to get him a new collar–he's just not happy getting the shots or the drops."
The snow leopardess nodded her head in understanding. "Oh, they are fussy at that age," she replied in agreement as Finnick went from a glare to flushing with embarrassment. "But I can tell from the lack of diaper that he's at least potty-trained!" She chirruped as she lowered him back to her chest. "Many fathers wouldn't even waste the time to try and help with that."
"Ma'am, I am a full believer in every mammal knowing how to use a toilet," the canid conman said in all seriousness. "I mean, we may be animals but we are evolved!" He proclaimed in a rather pious fashion as he pointed his right finger into the air in an almost imperious manner. "My son might be stuck thinking he's an elephant for the next five-to-ten years because he's sick in the head, but Gouda as my witness, he won't roll around in his own poo!"
Raising an eyebrow as he sat within feline woman's cleavage, surrounded by the softness of her bosom, the tiny desert fox tried to signal his semi-buddy that he was laying it on too darn thick!
The feline woman wiped away a tear from her eye. "Such a great father, you are..." she murmured before a sudden thought occurred to her. "Is the mother... as helpful?" she asked, giving him a look of inquiry.
His lip curling, Finnick gave a silent snarl. Great. Just friggin' great! Not only was his friend cock-blocking him but Wilde was getting even farther with the babe than he was!
Noticing the look of intense murder on his illigetimate business partner's face–which the woman fortunately missed–the vulpine replied, "Oh no... God bless her, she passed on in childbirth..." he brought his hands up to his chest, placing them over his heart as he let off a long, wistful-sounding sigh. "I've only just begun dating again, ma'am... real sweetheart of a vixen, very lawful and... well, just everything we foxes normally aren't. Hopefully she can be the role-model my special little guy needs to be an upstanding citizen, something that, I admit, I haven't been the best at what with me being... well, a fox and all..." he said with shame evident in his tone of voice.
"…" went the silent reply of the fennec from his place within the snow leopardess' cleavage. From what he knew, Nick hadn't had the balls yet to ask out the Law Fox and now... Hood Furry God! Now he was cutting out a sure thing with a happy woman who loved his 'paternal instincts'!? That's it, Finnick thought irritably. He was going to have to man up and sit his friend down and get him to come out of the den–there was no way in hell a straight guy would have this many issues!
"Aww..." sighed the feline–both at the loss of the mother and the fact someone else had already staked a claim onto such a fine upstanding male. It really was difficult to find a good man.
Smiling sweetly at the taller predator, the male red fox politely told her, "I thank you for your understanding ma'am... you were a delight to talk to... sadly we are in a bit of a rush. I need to get the little guy home in time so he can watch some Sesame Street before I put him down for his nap. He gets cranky if he can't see his Mr. Snuffleupagus!"
The snow leopardess in fine attire nodded her head in understanding and gently picked the 'baby' up out of her cleavage and set him back down into the carriage seat. She leaned in and told the desert fox in a sweet tone, "Now you be a good little man for your daddy, all right? She said with a smile as she pat the fennec on the head. She then turned to Wilde and told him, "If things don't work out with this woman... please, do give me a call." She brought her purse around from her side and opened it. She reached inside and rooted around for a moment, only to retrieve a business card, which she promptly held out to the red fox in offering.
Reaching his hand out, the vulpine male gave her a beatific smile and a firm nod of his head. "I'll keep it in mind, beautiful. Thank you very much!" He watched as the woman turned about and made her way down the aisle, putting a sway to her hips. He watched but only for a little as his right ear raised high upon catching the sound of an irritated growl. Turning his gaze back up to the shopping cart, a sly grin split across the crimson-pelted canid's muzzle. "You got something you want to tell daddy, my boy?"
"Yeah," Finnick growled. "What aisle do we go down to get your balls back?" He felt he was being very reasonable–why, he hadn't even once considered grabbing the condoms on the nearby shelf and tossing them into the cart while the two had been talking.
Tilting his head, the taller of the two vulpines gave his fellow predator a curious expression. "What's that supposed to mean?" Nick asked innocently before a devious smirk blazed across his muzzle. "And watch your mouth, before Papa has to wash it out with soap!" He threatened in a teasing manner... which he would have been more than happy to follow through on!
"..." went the fennec, the intensity of his glare going up a notch. "Dude!" He finally snapped out angrily. "She was basically offering you a free time, and you turned it down! What the hell is wrong with you man!?"
The vulpine's smile became one of threat to one of mischievous glee. "Ah, buy what good is a free time when I can have a number of good times by merely planting the seeds that will blossom into greater revenue?" Nick retorted in all seriousness.
The petite, sandy-furred fox blinked his big orange eyes once, twice, thrice. "Okay, it's official. You lost me on this."
That smile on the red fox's muzzle went so wide and toothy, it threatened to engulf his head. "She seemed like a gossiping cougar... the type of woman, not the actual feline," he quickly added. "The sort that goes around searching for successful single fathers, the kind that joins all the women's clubs... the women that pretty much are all over this town whether they're predator or prey..."
Nodding his head slowly as he took in all his partner was laying down, Finnick replied, "I follow you... but I don't get where you're doing with this," he admitted with a firm tone of annoyance. "Seriously! Turning down her offer for a good time helps out how?"
"Because now she'll talk about this to her Book Club or whatever she spends her free time with that there's a loving single father out there with a son who thinks he's an elephant and they should be kind and understanding to this poor overworked father who's merely trying to eke out a living while taking care of his poor, mentally-deficient boy," he explained in a rather theatrical fashion. "Meaning we'll have a MUCH easier time of getting into predominantly prey-centric establishments and businesses than we would otherwise." His smile lessened but it still showed off all his pearly whites in a rather predatory fashion. "Like the Jumbeaux Café and Ice Cream Parlor... you know, the place that sells those Jumbo Pops we use to make our own Pawpsicles? Instead of having to pay sometime twice the price if not more to get one for us, we could merely waltz right on in and purchase one outright!"
His ears flattening back against his skull, the fennec stared down at his partner.
The silence between the two was deafening until the taller of the pair finally said, "...What?"
"So you're saying ... you turned down an easy win... for future gossip to expanding your business interests?" He asked slowly, making sure he had this correct.
Nodding his head firmly, Wilde told him, "That's right. All for the hustle, buddy!"
Twitching slightly, the petite predator continued, "And if future tail comes up, you will ignore it as well. The reason being you want something with the cop... that you have yet to even ask out... or done anything really for that matter, where she might acknowledge your interest and give you the go-ahead?"
Crossing his arms over his chest at his partner's tone of voice, the crimson-pelted canid huffed in annoyance. "What's wrong with that?" Nick asked in all seriousness.
Finnick just stared down at his partner and finally blurted out in a rather blunt fashion, "I don't know if you're genius, stupid, or so stupid you come back right around to genius once again."
"And don't forget," the taller male vulpine chirruped merrily. "This also gives me a chance to get you in a tiny elephant cosplay outfit!"
The desert fox glared down at his pal. "...Stupid it is then."
The Hawaiian-shirted hustler snorted in annoyance at his partner's continued vehemence. "Oh please, you should be thanking me!" He snapped back. "I saw what you were trying to do with that woman! What if Cherry were to find out you went cleavage diving?"
The fennec's face went a few shades pale at the thought... oh no, not that he was afraid of Cherry. He would feel incredibly guilty when she broke down crying but he was outright terrified of what Angel would do to him for hurting her baby sister!
One thing that could be said for Mr. Zerdan was that he had normal fears of girl troubles. At least he could take assurance in the fact he wasn't as bad as Wilde was. He had yet to lose a girl because she decided to cross party lines.
"You wouldn't dare..." Finnick muttered heatedly under his breath as his fellow fox merely grinned deviously at him. Realizing the smarmy prick had him caught between a rock and a hard place, his shoulders sagged in defeat for the time being. "Fine, fine..." he said in resignation. "Don't see what the big deal is. I mean, it's not like I was trying to get into the woman's skirt or anything. Just wanted to feel a little heavenly bliss is all."
"Said heavenly bliss would have cost you more than you could afford if Cherry found out," Nick stated rather pointedly. He might not have been dating Vanilla anymore, but he still thought rather fondly of the Arctic vixen triplets and saw them in a friendly light. He wasn't about to have his buddy screw things up because the horn-dog sometimes lived up to the specist slur of being nothing more than a, 'Yiffer'.
Twitching irritably, the petite vulpine's impressive ears lowered and pressed against the back of his head. The desert fox then leaned over in the child's seat of the carriage, his eyes heavily lidded as he glared at his partner-in-semi-crime. "Haven't you ever heard about working a good hustle when it presents itself?" He asked irritably, the tone of annoyance in his voice that would have been prevalent to even a mammal that was as slow on the uptake as a Sloth.
"Precisely," the taller predator replied to his fellow fox. He smirked at Finnick and added, "I did the hustling while you went cleavage diving in super-soft snow leopardess mammaries even though you have a stable girlfriend. You weren't getting anything out of that BUT the good time..." he crossed his arms over his chest and smirked, taking on a rather imperious position. "Still, I made sure to make something useful out of the situation! Now you be a good boy and wave to daddy all sweetly while we head to the deli. And remember to keep up the act, big guy. If animals see you talking in the carriage, word might get back to the lovely leopardess... and that will get her talking about being tricked by a nasty little fennec and word travels fast... possibly all the way to Tundratown via the gossip grapevine" he warned in a very threatening manner, despite his overall cool demeanor he conveyed.
Finnick's eyes widened. The girls did treat a lot of mammals in the city as professional comfort vixens, whether their clients would admit to it or not. And if they got a gossiper who had met that fine feline of heavenly bliss...?
Yep, there was only one solution to this problem.
"...Da-da..." Zerdan blurted out in his usual firm baritone voice.
Winking at his pal, the crimson-pelted canid uncrossed his arms and gave the smaller vulpine a pair of thumbs-up. "Good boy!" Nick praised, his muzzle plastered with a silly grin. Oh, if only he had thought of such a scam sooner! The amount of opportunities that they would have had for business! My own fault for having a healthy dose of respect for my partner, I suppose, he mentally surmised as he began to push the carriage once more along the aisle. "And remember, my special little guy," he chirruped up to the petite predator sitting in the carriage. "If you see anything that was on that list we got from, 'Mama Carmelita' you bet a good little kit and wave those arms, knock it into the carriage."
The small vulpine glared down at the smirking pain-in-the-tail as he realized he was expected to still do excess work despite having to humiliate himself playing the part of an infant. I hate you so much right now, Finnick thought irritably as they made their way down the aisle and hopefully to the Deli section. "Da..." he chirruped sweetly in his deep voice, not even trying to hide it as well as he could have. Still, at least Wilde couldn't argue with him to take a turn pushing the shopping cart anymore. It was all on the red fox now.
And seeing how those arms wobbled and wavered as he continued to push the steadily growing weight of the steel carriage, the desert fox took glee from the suffering of his illegitimate business partner; it becoming quite obvious Nick was starting to realize that little truth about this venture at the moment.
Eventually getting the carriage sized more for a bovine up the aisle, the male red fox was able to push the cart past the end-cap of the product lane before he began huffing and puffing in ways that would have sounded more appropriate to an overweight cheetah whose place he was currently crashing at. "Maybe..." he gasped out between breaths. "Maybe I should start eating more than..." he gasped and panted. "More than the instant shrimp and tofu ramen cups..." he wheezed out, having to lean over with hands on his knees as he breathed deeply for dear life.
Rolling his eyes at how out of shape his partner was, Finnick was at least thankful it wasn't because Wilde was an out of shape lard-ass. Although that would help me when we have to split because a scam goes South, he surmised. After all, when a con went belly up, you didn't need to be the fastest runner... just faster than the other guy.
It was a few minutes but eventually the vulpine in Hawaiian shirt and tie managed to pull himself together. "Okay..." Nick began as he continued to pant heavily. "New..." he trailed off as he wheezed again. "New plan! Next time we come here, we make sure to get one of those scooters or..." again he went into a small coughing fit. "Or have someone help us." He was certain there were probably a few people who would help them...
So long as the price was right, of course. After all, pure altruism just wasn't a virtue in this city!
Except for one Benjamin Clawhauser, the canid con-mammal was quick to silently remind himself. He really couldn't think of anyone else who would be willing to help a fox out just because they were having trouble like his overweight friend. Really, the portly feline was one in a million. The only other two mammals the fox could think of that would help him out of the goodness of their hearts were a no go in this situation. Honey never left her bunker and there was just no way he could bring himself to go see Francine...
...His mother.
Nick quickly shook his head, banishing thoughts of the lovely vixen who had raised him. He couldn't go back to her. Not a chance in a hell. With all he'd done, with what WAS out there and after him, the male vulpine would rather die alone in a ditch than bring that kind of trouble to her door-step. Oh no, his mom was better off without him in her life.
Taking another deep breath, the scarlet-pelted fox finally straightened up... looking at the carriage, he cringed again before making an effort to get it rolling once more. Hands firmly holding onto the lower of the two sets of handle bars, the vulpine began pushing himself firmly against it. The steel shopping cart travelled along on its wheels, moving along the back wall before coming to a stop at the deli, just before the ticket counter.
Despite the joy he deprived from his fellow fox's physical suffering, Finnick was kind enough to lean over in his seat and grasp a ticket from the device. Pulling it free from the holder, he released the small piece of paper and let it float down harmlessly to the gasping and heaving vulpine, his Hawaiian shirt now starting to look rather damp from all the sweat.
Nick didn't notice at first, instead choosing to slump down beside his carriage like a melting ice-cream cone as he panted hard. "How... do rodents and rabbits do it?" He wheezed, grateful that he could relax for a few moments at least. The last thing he needed was to try and push the damned free-wheeling steel Gym disguised as a grocery store cart any further at the moment. He sure as hell didn't look forward to pushing this to the front counter or out to the van. Maybe the store had some people who helped in that last regard? He would have to ask, because doing such would take him all day.
Especially since he was parked at the VERY END of the parking lot for Gouda's sake! Darn Finnick and his desire to not get any more dents and nicks in his Ford P.O.S. than it already has, the vulpine mentally griped as he continued to breathe in and out... so much so that he almost missed the annoyed voice of a giraffe behind the counter.
"Number twenty-six? Do we have a number twenty-six anywhere?" The woman decked out in white apron and disposable plastics garments asked, calling out amongst the numerous mammals that were already gathered and looking at their tickets again to make certain they didn't have it.
The sweat still trickling down the sides of his head, Nick opened his paw which held the paper that his partner had grabbed. Taking a good look at it, the crimson-pelted canid's eyes went wide as he realized that he had the small ticket that was adorned with the numbers two and six.
Looking back and forth amongst the gathered customers for a moment more and getting nothing but silence, the long-neck herbivore behind the counter nodded her head in acceptance that it was a lost ticket. "All right then! Number twenty-se—"
"I'm number twenty-six!" Wilde shouted as he climbed up along the side of his carriage as if he were rock climbing out in the Meadowlands or Outback Island Districts, using the mesh-net style of the shopping cart to climb up higher and get into view. "That's me!" He called out again even louder as he waved his ticket to garner the woman's attention.
Fortunately, for him, the giraffe woman did notice and was able to lean her neck out over the deli case, bringing her head close enough to him where she could see the ticket he was holding. Nodding in acceptance, the woman's eyes rolled up to look at the smaller mammal before she asked, "What do you want?" Of course, the gruff tone of her voice had the unspoken inquiry of, 'can you even pay for this?'
Ignoring that unsaid implications the female herbivore took with him, Nick merely gave her a disarming smile. "Why yes, please. I'm going to need a few things actually..." he pulled out the list from his pocket that the lovely Latina vixen had written up and began to list off, "A quarter pound of American cheese, a quarter pound of Swiss cheese, a quarter pound of Cheddar cheese, a whole pound of Good Migration's exclusive, 'Tofloaf' and if you make these next two items fresh, a quart container of egg salad and another quart container of tuna salad, please!" He then gave her a toothy grin, trying to convey how nice he was so. As he learned long ago, sometimes the most effective way to get under someone's skin was with kindness.
Looking at him for a moment, the spotted camelopardalis woman rolled her eyes at the rather cheesy pleasantries before slowly straightening her neck up, being careful not to bump her bulbous horns against the ceiling. She then began to move to the left along the case, going for a section where they kept cheeses, showing that while it was very likely she might have personally not liked certain customers, the fact was the customer was always right and she was willing to serve the vulpine just as she would any other mammal.
Really, that fact alone was the hidden statistic of why Good Migrations was able to become so successful in a City-State predominantly filled private-owned family businesses. Just like Snarlbucks–who managed to enter the market share before the international grocery store chain–had discovered, when you catered to everyone, you got the largest clientele base.
It was something the company taught her and all the other employees of Good Migrations, 'A predator's green is just as good as a prey's, so long as it isn't counterfeit'. Being a company based outside of Zootopia, it didn't matter to them if their subordinates greatly disliked a species because they were carnivore in nature or not. As long as they had money and weren't causing problems, who cared?
Seeing the woman wasn't giving him any grief over him wanting to do business, the male red fox sighed quietly in relief as he continued to grip onto the side of the carriage and hold on for dear life, his hands and feet using the wire-mesh styling of the shopping cart as finger and foot holds. And to think, once he got the goods from the deli, he was going to have to move on through the rest of the store with new weight added from the deli items! Good furry Jesus, he needed to find an easier way to shop. Maybe I could find a donkey and ask for help in the future? He thought for a moment before dismissing it outright. Donkeys may have been the toughest, strongest sons of bee-sting-itches in Zootopia for their size and species–only beaten out by the wily and buff honey badgers–but they were also notoriously stubborn and didn't let go of old grudges easily. There was no way one would work for a fox!
Seeing the emotions play across his partner's face, Finnick couldn't help but whisper, "Gee, Wilde... looks like you didn't think this con out thoroughly did you?" He chuckled as he saw the taller vulpine twitch in irritation.
"I am so getting you in a diaper for that one, little man," Nick whispered back in a threatening manner before turning his attention to the deli itself and the mammals working it, slicing up bricks of dairy goodness and scooping up homemade-style foods for quick and easy deployment into weighable plastic and Styrofoam containers. It would seem that this was the busiest section of the store for predators... and even rodents as they were lined up ATOP the counter thanks to a special elevator lane for them.
As more and more animals gathered, the red fox in a viridian Hawaiian shirt and striped tie realized that his partner and him had gotten there at the best possible moment; they had been the rush and their cart was getting pushed closer to the counter as more mammals crowded in. Of course, the vast majority of which were predators and a few of the more omnivore-aligned species such as pigs and raccoons. He had to suppress a shudder at all some of the other customer's calls for insect foods: roach loaf, mealworm cheese, sautéed snails, mashed cricket salad, and beetle pasta salad just to name a few...
Ugh, no wonder dad was a professed vegetarian, the canid con-mammal thought as he tried to distract himself from the requests for grub–both the foodstuff and the actual insect larva–the predator deli employees served their fellow carnivores by looking up at the television set the store had hanging from the ceiling in the deli for customers. It was currently on ZNN, the news-anchors Fabienne Growley and Peter Moosebridge, often noted for their complimentary nature with one another, having a heated argument over...
His eyes widened as he saw it as a picture of Carmelita that was superimposed on the background behind them and positioned between the pair of news-mammals so that neither of the newscasters covered it up. His ears twitching and finding no audibility from the set, the male vulpine climbed a bit higher on the shopping cart. "Hey! HEY!" He called up, hoping to get the attention of one of the deli attendants. "Excuse me! Hey! Can someone turn that up? Please?"
Hearing a request, a hippo standing by said set as he washed his hands in the sink shrugged and did just that, raising his hand to press the bottom of the set undo the mute function before returning to cleaning his impressive mitts. It wasn't an unreasonable request. After all, it wasn't like this was a movie and a plot-important thing was happening on the television as a cheap if not clichéd way to build tension.
"...am here at the scene of arrest with the ZPD's latest recruit, Officer Carmelita Montoya Fox!" the jaguar one the screen chimed as before the camera lowered and zoomed to reveal the Latina vixen in question.
Nick could barely paid attention to what was being said at first, deeply shocked by the fact Carmelita was already in the news. Well, maybe not, he decided after a moment. She was a fox, and a fox having actual police authority was rather newsworthy after all. Still, that was...
He never got to finish that thought as the news reporter mentioned her stopping a rhino criminal who had done several smash and grabs in the past. His bright emerald eyes widened as he caught sight of the horned herbivore that was being carted off onto a much larger police vehicle on the screen. She caught the guy that robbed me!? Wilde thought with complete and utter shock and awe. It was a couple of months back when a con of Finnick's and his went South dur to a boar and that rhino beating him up and taking the day's earnings at that point. Considering that table-top gig had made enough to pay off a half-year's worth of rent at that time, he was still quite sour about it. And the cops never did anything for me, he mentally groused, still enamored with the fact it was Officer Fox of all people who showed that dumb lummox who was boss.
Even said desert fox, who had been playing the part of, 'a dumb baby' was paying close attention to the news with growing fascination. Especially as the vulpine woman went on about her weapon, her training, and how she intended to see to it that Zootopia became a better place for all, no matter what their background was. She was so impassioned about it that even he, the biggest cynic of all, almost believed she really could do it.
Indeed, both men were so engaged by the news that it literally took the giraffe leaning her head in once more to where she was practically in their faces. "Excuse me, sir!" She chirruped to get his attention. "I got the first part of your order here."
Turning his attention to the spotted African even-toed ungulate mammal, the vulpine nodded his head, both to shake clear his senses as well as let her know he understood. "Ah! Thank you, ma'am!" And with their cart having been pushed closer, the woman was actually able to reach her lengthy limbs over the counter; the canid retrieving the plastic bagged sliced cheeses and tofu before dropping them into the cart carefully so as not to get them crushed by cans and such. He turned his head once more to ask her about the rest of the order, only to find she was already working on scooping up a portion of the egg salad on display in the deli case.
So with that taken care of, Nick returned his attention to the TV, needing to strain to hear what was being said... a tad difficult since the other mammals were now also speaking amongst themselves. While conversation wasn't an unusual way for strangers to pass the time, mammals were usually doing such on their phones, not face-to-face with strangers in this day and age...
And even more interesting? The often-scheming vulpine realized they were talking about Carmelita and the news report that was playing.
Having noticed the same thing as his partner, Finnick could barely believe what was happening. The girl had just gotten the job and was news already! And not for the reason that foxes usually got on the news either, oh no! She was getting mammals talking and questioning what they knew! Man, that's crazy, he thought with scant comprehension of the implications such meant. What's next? An army of lemmings invading the police station?
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Pausing in his writing, Chief Bogo visibly twitched as a chill went down his spine. Placing his pen down, the man reached over for his phone before pausing in mid-motion, holding his hooved hand aloft. With how the day had gone so far, the cape buffalo wasn't going to risk something worse happening.
Oh, but it was tempting to call the front desk and ask if everything was alright. No, forget that. I pick up that phone and a flash flood of some sort will sweep through the city. I'll just go check it out personally, the Chief of Police decided before he brought his hand down to the ledge of the desk and pushed his chair back. Standing up from his seat, the bovine then walked around his desk and made his way over to the door, his hand reaching out to turn the handle and open it...
...Or at least, he tried to as the doorknob popped off instead.
Closing his eyes, Chief Bogo barely suppressed the whimper he wanted to sound off as he gazed down at the busted knob in his hand and lamented the fact the other part of the knob was on the floor outside the door. "Well, this has certainly been one of those days..." he growled as he clenched his fist, squeezing the metal in his hand with enough strength that the shape within his grasp shifted from the pressure.
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"Sir!" The female giraffe's voice pulled Nick back to reality once more. "I've got your salad right here!"
His attention pulled from the TV set once more, the male red fox smiled at the long-necked mammal. "Thank you again, ma'am!" The vulpine replied merrily as he reached out with one hand to take hold of the egg salad before carefully lowering it into the cart. "One more to go!" He chirruped as he gave the much taller herbivore a thumbs-up and a wider smile.
Nodding her head, the woman managed to smile back a little as she went back to behind to deli counter to have one of the wolves retrieve the requested tuna salad as well. As Nick awaited the last of his order, his triangular ears rose up and twitched as he now listened to the other customers talk amongst one another... or to be more precisely, talk about what they witnessed on the television.
"Do you believe that? A fox took down a rhino..."
"Think she flashed him her tits?"
"I think she flashed him that gun."
"They should let more members of the police have those things."
"Are you kidding? I don't trust them with Tasers! My tail fur is still singed from when that one asshole pulled his out in the Rainforest District during a downpour!"
"Hard to believe a tiny Chomper like that took such a big bite out of crime."
"Maybe the times are changing..."
None of that was expected and Nick wasn't sure how to react to it. It was weird for the canid male to hear other mammals say things about foxes that weren't simply derogatory or just plain negative. He just... wasn't sure what to think. With one simple arrest, Carmelita had mammals talking and questioning the city's status quo.
Finnick was pretty much in the same boat as his fellow perplexed pred albeit for different reasons. On one paw, Carmelita was a cop, you just couldn't trust them! Sure, some were trying to do their jobs but others were corrupt pricks out to make a buck for themselves and even those that weren't on the take were only looking for convictions when it came to investigations. You were always better off requesting a lawyer or asking if you were being detained–and if you weren't, it was best to just pick up and get the heck out of dodge! A lifetime of experience taight the desert fox that cops were not your friend, no matter what the circumstances. Yes that included Clawhauser and that sucked, because Finnick liked the big oaf!
On the other paw, this might help foxes get better treatment in the future. Like Nick, he realized that what the Latina lady did cast vulpines in a whole new light that other animals weren't used to seeing them in, be they fellow predator or condescending prey!
Finnick... was so heavily torn over this.
Again, both vulpine men were so deep in thought that the camelopardalis behind the counter had to lean her head in and once more to get in their faces; it seemed to be the only way to get their attention. "Sir! Sir, I got your tuna salad here?" She said firmly.
Blinking his bright green eyes once, twice, thrice, the Hawaiian shirt-clad hustler had to shake his head to clear it his mind and bring himself back to the here and now. "Er, right! Right! Sorry about that ma'am," he chuckled nervously as he took his right hand off the carriage and scratched the side of his head in embarrassment that wasn't necessarily feigned. "Forgive me. I've been a tad too distracted lately with everything going on, taking care of my boy and whatnot," he made certain to get in, just in case someone was listening to them. "It's tiring just pushing him around in a shopping cart, let alone being a single dad all day."
The female herbivore blinked her eyes a few times at that comment. "You... you do know we also have motorized carriages for smaller mammals like you... right?" She queried, although she could tell by the growing look of surprise on his face that such was a definite, 'no'.
Both foxes, 'father and son' stared at her, hard. "But I thought those were just for the disabled and elderly!" Nick yelped, unable to hide his shock; promise to never let them see they got to him be damned! He could take the mental pressure any day of the week, physical fatigue was a whole other kettle of fish!
"Yes," the female giraffe replied honestly. "But how do you think all the much smaller and weaker mammals like the mice and rabbits shop here?" She was quick to explain, eliciting a groan from the fox as understanding came crashing down on him like a sack of bricks. Taking a bit of pity of the smaller mammal, she quickly told him to, "Hang on." She leaned back and moved her head, the horned herbivore's length neck stretching over the scalps of her fellow employees as her own head came close to the open door at the back. "Hey, Rhett! I've got someone who can't move their cart! Help them to the front to get one of the motorized carts, will you?"
"Sure, sure!" A male voice sounded out from the back before a male deer clad in the same white garb as the other deli attendants came walking out through the open door. He paused, blinking his eyes in surprise as he saw the long-necked African herbivore's outstretched right hooved hand motioning over to a pair foxes... before shrugging his shoulders in acceptance. "All right, you're done here at the deli?" He watched as the fox in a patterned green shirt nodded. "Let's get to the front then, there's assistants who'll help."
No, he wasn't a mammal that liked foxes all that much–growing up in Deerbrook County kind of molded him into such an outlook–but it was against store policy to discriminate against anyone unless they were stealing or breaking merchandise, and he didn't want to lose his job over giving a Chomper some lip. After all, he had bills to pay!
The taller of the two vulpine men blinked his eyes in surprise at the otherwise calm demeanor the taller prey animal was giving him. "Uh... thank you..." Nick replied slowly, finding this to be a whole new experience. He couldn't think of a time in his life when mammals would go out of their way to help foxes... even someone like him. Sure, store policy was in place but he knew there were many herbivores that would be willing to overlook someone like him and make argument that he was so tiny they happened to miss him.
Oh yes... Carmelita deserved those name-brand labels.
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As the all-terrain military truck that was repurposed into a police cruiser pulled up the ramp and into the ZPD parking garage, the driver looked around the interior of the vehicle and breathed in deeply to try and calm herself. Papers, crumbs, aluminum foil, plastic bags, and empty condiment packets were littered all about with no rhyme or reason. "I haven't even had this thing for twenty-four hours and it's already a mess..." she replied with a most devastated sigh.
Noticing the displeasure in his fellow officer's voice, the chubby cheetah did his best to give her a soft and reassuring smile. "Aww, it'll be okay Officer Fox," he said with an upbeat tone. "We have an H-Vac in the garage for this very reason! If you want I'll even give you a hand emptying the trash before we go about vacuuming."
Turning to look at him, the Latina vulpine gazed at the man with a half-lidded gaze. "You better: you're the one who made the vast majority of this mess in the first place." He was certainly an enthusiastic eater. Heck, if she were honest with herself, she could admit that she hadn't seen anyone that into their food since Murray! And boy, could the hippo ever put it away, the vixen thought with a bit of mirth.
"...At least I ate my clam chowder at counter of the Wannabite's truck," he offered helplessly, as if admitting that he could have been even messier with his meal made what did occur all that much more acceptable.
Bringing her right hand up to the side of her head, Carmelita rubbed her temple before actually laughing. "You're right. If you had the chowder in here, then we'd have to shampoo the upholstery atop of everything else," the vulpine told him with a small laugh. In the grand scheme of things, it really wasn't anything worth getting upset over after all. Especially in comparison with everything wrong with this city a mammal SHOULD raise a stink about. "As long as you're willing to lend a helping paw with the clean-up, that would be great."
Nodding his head firmly, the feline caused the portly joules of his face to bounce slightly. "No problem, Officer Fox!" He chirruped merrily as she pulled up into a parking space close to the entrance which happened to be vacant. A good thing too as this placed them that much closer to the slightly rusted steel equipment locker once more. As the woman turned the key and shut the engine off, the portly policeman couldn't help but offer, "Say... we're going to be off the clock now. Would it be all right to call you, 'Carmelita' now?"
Sighing good-naturedly at just how cheerfully positive and personable the mammal tried to be, the Hispanic red fox considered his request for a moment before finally nodding her head in acceptance. "All right, all right..." she relented. "You can call me by name now, Benjamin," the vulpine beauty replied, doing the same in turn for him.
She had to cringe at the high-pitched squeal of delight the plump feline released in response.
Deciding to spare her eardrums, the woman reached down and pressed the button on her belt, unbuckling herself before that hand outstretched to her left to pull the handle and cause the door to unlock. Using her foot to push the door open, the navy blue-tressed vixen jumped down. She walked away a few steps to put some distance between her and the shrill noise of delight, the little Latina lady raising her arms over her head and stretching. "Nnnngh..." she murmured, only to suddenly yelp in shock as her back let loose an incredibly audible cracking noise; the woman barely suppressing a whimper as her legs wobbled a little bit.
The yelp immediately snapped the cheetah out of the heights of pleasure the woman using his name caused. He looked over to his left see the woman starting to slump over and went wide-eyed with shock, his fur suddenly standing on end with worry. "Goodness! Are you okay, Carmelita!?" Clawhauser shouted as he pushed the passenger's side door open and quickly made his way around the vehicle. Once beside the woman, he gently grabbed her by one of her arms, helping her stay upright. It was a good thing as she would have likely fallen on her butt otherwise. "Hello?" He spoke softly to the slightly dazed vulpine. "Are you okay?" He asked again, wanting to make certain nothing was wrong.
The woman blinked her brown eyes a few times, just trying to get over the sudden sensation of vertigo that had come over her. "Just... wow… um..." she trailed off, unsure of how to even describe the feeling that overtook her when her back popped like that. "That felt weird," was the only way the female red fox could reply. Even in all the years she went jumping across rooftops to chase a certain ring-tailed pain-in-the-ass, she had never had her back crack like that before. Finally, after a few moments, she was able to get her balance and bearings a bit more. "I'm okay. That was just such a shocking that I went numb for a moment," she admitted, omitting the fact that such was probably still an after-effect of being so roughly handled by the Mayor earlier. God almighty if she met that leonine jerk again, it would be too darn soon!
Nodding his head slowly in understanding –and the tiniest bit of relief that she seemed to be stabilizing–the spotted feline looked at the woman with a bit of curiousness and some lingering worry. "Is it okay to let you go?" He asked seriously. "I don't want to remove my grasp, only to have you crumple up like a marionette without strings." At the curious look she gave him, Clawhauser offered a smile in return. "Hey, you helped me up when ZNN came around. This is the least I can do... you saved my bacon!"
That got a chuckle out of the woman. "First off, it would have been terrible of me to try and humiliate you... as the interview went on, I understood that's where Mr. Cha was trying to lead the conversation and I refused to give it any merit. We succeed in making Zootopia a better place by uniting, not dividing the police force." Still, even as she said that, the seriousness of her expression gave way to a small grin. "That and what bacon was there to save? I don't think this place has any within three-to-five hundred miles of its borders!"
Turning his gaze from the vulpine, the spotted feline looked down at his belly. "I don't know... I think I may have a few pounds of tofu bacon lying in my intestines somewhere." The cheetah replied, using his other paw to gently poke at his own gut before he raised his head and looked back up to his fellow officer. He gave her a gentle grin at her as he slowly released his hold, relieved that she wasn't falling down without his paw there.
The woman chuckled and shook her head good-naturedly. "You really shouldn't put yourself down like that, Officer Claw—Benjamin," she quickly corrected herself, earning another wide and pearly-white smile from her fellow predator. "Believe me when I say you were a big help. If you hadn't suggested we stop for a meal at Wannabite's then we wouldn't have been there when that attempted theft went down. Mr. Teddy would have gotten away and still be at large to burglarize and victimize yet another civilian business."
Nodding his head in agreement with what she was saying, the portly feline chirruped, "True... there is that... but I think you're more thankful King Louis went made you another lobster roll free of charge in thanks for getting his register and cash back."
Making her way over to the steel cabinet, the Hispanic vulpine couldn't help but admit, "Well I can't deny that I didn't enjoy it, Benjamin... that sandwich of his is absolutely magnífico! A generous helping of lobster, creamy mayo, just the right amount of citrus and rosemary seasoning..." she trailed off as she smacked her lips. "And not a single piece of celery for filler!"
The cheetah nodded his head in agreement as the woman walked off, grinning wide at just how much the Latina vixen enjoyed her food. "He makes food that's just the perfect meal for preds like us. It's just too bad there aren't more places like his." He shrugged his shoulders in an acceptance he'd long-since come to terms with. "Oh well... maybe in the future..." he murmured. With everything that was going on with this Mammal Inclusion Initiative, maybe there could be more prey that thought to take a stab at cooking like Louis had.
That statement made the vulpine pause in her step. Blinking her eyes in shock, the blue-tressed vixen turned her head to to look at her fellow police officer over her right shoulder as she queried, "There aren't more places?" That seemed highly unlikely to her. "You have to be exaggerating, Benjamin. This is a HUGE city! They have to have enough resources in place to cater to a predator population, and that includes dining."
"A predator population that is only one-in-ten mammals," the spotted felidae explained as he came up beside his fellow police officer. "The city handled such an aspect by focusing on either making preds become good chefs so we could make our own meals or we can subside on a, 'fast food diet'." At the curious look she gave him, the cheetah went on to explain, "For example, Bug Burga is predominant in this city, to the point where you'll find them within fifteen miles of one another... and all are always busy. It's cheap and tasty and often the only REAL choice for a lot of us. Still, for those who can afford it, there are a few hole-in-the-wall pizza parlors and Chinese restaurants that serve carnivore-appropriate entrées. But really, when it comes down to it we have Kozlov's Family Restaurant at the Snow Palace, the Hakuna Matata Bug Buffet in the Rainforest District, and the Wannabite's Truck here in Savanna Central as the only three restaurants of a predator-centric nature that are even affordable to dine at on a semi-daily basis! After that is the famed Clark Halibut's Restaurant, the crown jewel of the Tundratown District... and frankly, besides the lengthy wait to get on the reservation list that exists for us mammals that aren't some VIP, the prices there are crazy expensive!"
"That..." Carmelita shook her head in disbelief. "That's just wrong on so many levels." It certainly explained the sheer amount of mammals that were lined up at one simple food truck. No wonder Mr. Stripeamol had turned all the interior space of his truck that he could into cooking stations. He had to cater to a lot of mammals... something which the woman was realizing was an untapped market in this city.
"...I just hope this means Nick can get me some good groceries," she murmured as an after-thought. If they gave him any trouble, she might be inclined to give him and Finnick a bit extra in both thanks and hazard pay!
"Why of course he will!" The cheetah chirruped merrily, hoping to assuage the obvious worry that visibly crossed that woman's lovely features. "There is more than enough to find in a market-place if you know where to look!" He told her honestly. "A lot of it will be tofu but it's a way to get a food deal of protein at once, even if it is plant-based in nature." He then looked left, right, left again, and right once more before leaning in and whispering in a conspiratorial manner, "There are also rumors of an illegal contraband smuggling operation in Sahara Square... that somewhere in that District, you can get your hands on real meat: beef, venison, pork you name it!"
Carmelita blinked her eyes once, twice. Meat was considered illegal contraband? "... I knew meat wasn't to be found in the city," she began slowly. "But you mean to tell me that such is by actual law and not the predominant prevailing attitude of the citizens?"
Nodding his head, Clawhauser replied, "Been on the Zootopia law-books since the City-State was founded back in 1921. All red and white meat products that originate from feral beasts and creatures–outside of fish and insects–is illegal here under terms of barbaric practice with fine of two hundred and fifty dollars AND a month's worth of jail-time that is tallied per pound discovered on the perpetrator's person or within their personal vehicle or domicile, be it one of residence or business." The way the feline knew and could recite that by heart spoke volumes of a mammal that had once desperately searched for a legal loophole.
The Hispanic policewoman could only twitch at how far the city went because they considered predators needing to eat meat, 'uncivilized'. The thought they would outright ban real meat in the city was completely asinine! That was something she wasn't prepared to give up, even if it was made a crime to have. "Seriously? You mean to tell me that it's a punishable offense in Zootopia to have meat!?" She practically barked out.
Again, the spotted feline could only nod his head in affirmation. "Afraid so."
Bringing a hand up to rub her face, the woman sighed in exasperation. "On one hand, I should really bust this up. It would be considered illegal and an impeachment on personal freedoms anywhere else in the world. On the other paw..." Carmelita trailed off as she needed to take a moment to really think about it. "The free market works in mysterious ways. So long as it isn't manipulated unfairly, it lets animals get what they want, whether by hook or by crook and there's not a thing the law can do to stop it."
That was something Sly had told her when they had broken up a smuggling ring for various contraband a few months before everything that happened with Le Paradox went down and he ended up lost.
Raising an eyebrow at that, the portly police officer looked over at the little Latina lady with a sympathetic gaze. "Are you okay, Carmelita?" Benjamin asked, worry evident on his face. "You suddenly look a bit sad." Maybe she needed time to come to terms with the fact her diet was going more along the lines of herbivores for the foreseeable future?
"Just... I'm just remembering something, that's all," she told him somberly before shaking her head. There was no use dwelling on Cooper's disappearance. Moping about it certainly wasn't going to do anything to bring him back. "Anyway," she began to speak once more, trying to put a bit more pep into her voice than she actually felt. "Let's get to work! My squad car isn't going to clean itself!" She offered the larger feline a smile.
He smiled back in return... albeit she could see the strain to it, as if he was trying to be positive for her sake. "Just remember, Carmelita... if you ever want someone, I'm available."
That comment made the vixen blink her eyes in a surprisingly authentic owlish fashion that would have had Clockwerk applauding–at both the woman's performance and at how gob-smacked she was by the other officer's words.
Realizing what he said must have sounded like, the feline's pupils dilated down to pin-pricks as he quickly added, "TO TALK! If you ever want someone to talk to, I'm available!" He said firmly, shaking his head with enough force that he caused his excess rolls of body weight on his frame to jiggle with the motion.
The expedient explanation helped the navy blue-haired vixen calm a bit, even if it left her a little shaken. "Sorry Benjamin. It's just sometimes people make that offer for... shall we say, less than noble reasons?" She managed a more natural smile as the cheetah nodded his head, understanding what she was getting at. Wanting to break the odd tableau that fell upon them from that faux pas, the female red fox offered, "Anyway, shall we?"
"Sure!" The cheetah replied, hoping to put that little slip of the tongue behind them as they both made their way to the storage cabinet to retrieve some cleaning supplies.
Needless to say, having a pair of paws made for a much easier task, although actually cleaning of the police cruiser took far longer than it had any right to take. Both for the expected reasons, such as collecting all the scattered wax papers and due to a bit more... unusual circumstances.
"Why is there a pair of socks!?" Carmelita yelled, crinkling her nose at the discovered lower paw covers. "Where did these come from!?" It was a genuine inquiry, particularly since she'd seen so few mammals that actually donned the footwear that would require such!
The spotted wildcat appeared to be just as perplexed as his fellow officer. "I... I have no clue," Clawhauser admitted. He knew for a fact the vehicle had been clean when they got it, yet those socks appeared as though they had been in the squad car for months based on how they looked and smelled. "Maybe they got hidden under the seat and no one knew about it?" It wouldn't be the first time something like that happened. He heard about the officers who had an entire bag of Clawburst candies that went missing for almost a year before they were found in the trunk of another car... shockingly enough, they were said to have still been good.
Releasing a small breath of exasperation, Carmelita looked over to her fellow Zootopia Police Officer as she replied, "Probably. Reminds me of all the times I would find Sly's little calling cards all over our place, even though he had stopped using them for years. Odd little spots like in the sock drawer, stuffed in a kitchen cabinet, stuck inside and clogging the shower drain..." she listed off. "Really, it was like we had an infestation of ants, only it was blue papers that kept cropping up out of nowhere!"
Considering that for a moment, Clawhauser chirruped, "You know I have the same problem with donuts..." although left unsaid was that they often showed up on him. Underneath a pectoral, caught in his armpit, or hidden in the folds of his neck for example. Still, he was never one to turn down a, 'sudden surprise snack' so it was often a jolly good time to have one pop up!
Unless they were jelly filled. They usually made their presence known before he discovered them for all the wrong reason... those traitorous treats!
Before the cheetah could go off onto a tangent about the dangers of the most treasonous event in his life he referred to as, 'The Boston Cream Donut Party' the radio set within the dashboard of Carmelita's vehicle began to crackle; the lights on it blinking to life. "Oh! Let me get that," he spoke up as he opened the driver's side door and leaned into the vehicle, his right arm stretching out for the radio receiver. Bringing it over to his mouth, he clicked the button on the side. "Hello, Officer Clawhauser responding!"
"Officer Clawhauser," the voice on the speakers in the squad car went off. "Is Officer Fox with you?"
Nodding his head, Benjamin chirruped, "That's a 10-4 Affirmative. Car—I mean, Officer Fox is with me by the car," he stated, trying to cover his slip-up; he figured the vulpine would want him to be professional when it came to work. "We were cleaning the interior after we had returned from the day's outing!"
"Good. Send her up to Chief Bogo's office. He wants to have a word with her. Over."
Blinking his eyes at the rather curt reply on the other end of Dispatch before the person had cut out, all the portly cheetah could reply was, "Over."
Seeing the confusion on the man's face Carmelita looked at him and shrugged, trying to convey that he shouldn't let the bluntness bother him. "Shall we finish this first?"
Clawhauser gave her a small smile. "Sure. No point in starting a job and leaving it incomplete, after all."
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Walking up to the cape buffalo's personal office, the female red fox looked over the empty frame that made up the entrance. "...Your door is missing," Carmelita commented as she stepped into the workspace, the Hispanic vulpine getting a sigh from the Chief in response.
Placing his pen down on the desk, the horned herbivore raised his head to look at his new subordinate. "The handle broke earlier and I had to have it removed so people could get in or out," Chief Bogo grumbled irritably in explanation. "I had to break the window so I could yell at someone to clean up the mess and call maintenance to make repairs."
Turning back and looking down the floor and noticing that yes, there were indeed a number of broken glass shards in the carpet. Officer Fox couldn't help but raise an eyebrow before returning her attention back to the man that would be serving as her superior for the next six months or so. "...And you didn't simply use your phone because?" She asked as her attention was drawn to cradle and receiver settled prominently to the ebony-skinned herbivore's right on his desk, in view for all to see.
Looking up, the much taller mammal met the petite predator's questioning gaze with a firm stare of his own. "With the way this day has gone, using it would have caused an earthquake that would have sent the station crashing into the earth," the muscular bovidae replied as if such worries were simple fact.
That made the Latina vulpine woman blink her eyes once, twice. Considering how the day had gone, she couldn't have really faulted him for such paranoia. "...And you don't have a cell phone either?"
"..."
"...Sir?" The navy blue-tressed vixen chirruped in worry.
Bringing a his right hand up to his face, the African buffalo groaned as he rubbed his eyes with his hooved digits.
Sighing, Officer Fox couldn't help but lament, "You forgot you had a cell phone, didn't you?"
Lowering his hand, the man met the woman's gaze once more. "I usually leave it in my jacket pocket... unless I get a call from someone directly, I hardly use it." He grumbled and shook his head. Well, there were also all the Gazelle apps he downloaded but he wasn't about to share that bit of information. "Since you're now here, would you mind taking a seat and giving me you report concerning the apprehension notorious crook Rock S. Teady? We don't have you in the system yet but I would be glad to handle your paperwork... this one time," Bogo said pointedly as he put his hands in front of his head and as he rested his elbows on the desk.
If either of them were more versed in those weird Japanese cartoons, they might have realized that Chief Bogo was taking a classic Gendo Impali pose from Neon Genesis EvangeLion.
"Sir," Carmelita saluted the taller mammal before she made her way over to and climbed up into one of the two chairs settled in front of his desk, going over the details about what happened and how he was arrested... the people, the territory covered, the damages, the officers that arrived on the scene to take the perp into custody, anything she could to be as thorough as possible.
Using his pen to write down note after note on a stationary pad for later input, the massively muscled herbivore nodded his head in appreciation of the woman's efforts. "It's just too bad you didn't get his partner, Beebo as well," Bogo muttered. No one really knew of that was Mr. Pig's real name or an alias, but either way it made it that much harder to locate and arrest the mammal. Still, this was a good start of things. "I don't say this often but I believe you deserve a bit of praise good on capturing him, even though you were supposed to be relaxing and not technically on the clock," he said that last part rather pointedly.
Noticing the look the man gave her, the Interpol office fought down the flush of embarrassment at the accurate accusation. "I couldn't help it!" The Hispanic vulpine chimed. "What was I supposed to do? Ignore when some uncaring imbécil robs someone right in front of me? I had to immediately give chase! He was fleeing the scene with another mammal's personal property and money! What kind of police officer would I have been if I hadn't chased him down?"
"An officer that wouldn't have made herself a lot of enemies in one fell swoop," Bogo answered in a seriousness manner. "That was why it was a shame Beebo Pig wasn't there for you to also take down... if you were going to catch hell then you could have least gone all the way for it."
Now the blue-haired vixen was rather confused. "...Que?" She asked, not sure where the large prey mammal was going with this. Seeing the man firmly gazing down at her, the petite–in comparison–predatory canid questioned, "What are you talking about?"
His hands still held together, the bovidae tapped his hooved digits together as he inhaled through his nose deeply... before breathing out slowly with his mouth. "I'd like to think the fine, hard-working men and women of the Zootopia Police Department would be more professional... but..." he frowned. "Wouldn't you be upset that something you worked so hard on was done ever so easily by someone else?"
That reply made the vixen blink her eyes once more. She had thought those had been tired looks she was receiving from her fellow policemen as she made her way to Bogo's office but now that the little Latina lady actually thought about it? "The other officers are upset with me." It wasn't a question
He nodded his head. "Indeed. They probably would have been ready to tar and feather you if you hadn't included Clawhauser in the news report and propped him up as best you could. You still gave the ZPD some credit, showing you could be a team-player."
Carmelita just stared up at the man as she sat in the large chair before his desk, trying to comprehend what he was telling her. "...They're upset because I did my job?"
"Better than they did," Bogo clarified. He wasn't upset with Officer Fox. On the contrary, this might be good. There was a chance the officers could go overboard, but he'd clamp down on that fast if it started up. "On top of it, you're new here. I mean, you're a veteran officer with Interpol, so even if you're not from here, even you would know how senior officers feel about someone who outdoes them on the first day of the job."
Understanding now dawning upon her, the Hispanic red fox couldn't help but grimace. She knew from experience that she didn't like it–particularly when corrupt cops like Neyla got even further by screwing others over–and it was a fact she couldn't ignore.
"On the other paw, some mammals might think you didn't see Mr. Teddy commit the theft and it was Clawhauser that did while you took off while he called it in?" He suggested, letting her know just how deep a pile of shit she had gotten herself in with the department. Different mammals would take different slights from a situation.
The woman stood up in the chair, reading to defend her position. "But I..." Carmelita trailed off at the surprisingly stern look on Bogo's face. Taking a deep breath, she calmly told the much larger mammal, "I wanted to make sure the criminal didn't get away and didn't trust myself to hand over the keys in such a situation, so I took off after him."
A small guttural noise of acceptance sounded from the herbivore's throat. "I thought so," Idriis said as he nodded his head in understanding. He hated these kinds of games as well, but the horned herbivore knew that he had to play them to keep things civil among the department. "I'll make sure to pass the information along. After all, if Clawhauser spotted him first and you took off because you... I don't know... dropped the keys, it's easier to stomach for them," he suggested rather pointedly to the woman.
Realizing that the muscular mammal was going to manipulate the story a little to keep the peace, the vixen sat back down when he gestured for her to. She couldn't help but smirk a little at the police chief. "You're pretty good at this." Barkley had no time for office politics. He merely gave orders and had his subordinates follow them.
"What, you mean this?" The ebony-skinned bovidae scoffed. "This is a rather simple thing to handle. You should see the stuff I have to put up with when I have to stand tall and hold it together whenever I have to preside over a funeral for fallen officers. And even then, at least the families are more appreciative. You should see what happens when I'm in front of the City Council, giving statement in court or–Gouda forbid–forced to deal with Internal Affairs!"
Carmelita grimaced at that last one. Internal Affairs was probably the most hated branch of all the police forces. Outsiders saw them as inept fools that couldn't get rid of bad cops and regular officers hated them because it meant someone was a snitch. The Hispanic vulpine held no sympathy for policemen that abused their authority but having Internal Affairs breathing down one's neck for any reason was never fun!
"Still, I felt you deserved be warned," the horned herbivore continued in a far more serious manner. "I had specifically told you to take the day to yourself and get acquainted... and instead, you ended up taking down a criminal who was on his way to becoming rather notorious. The other officers might be insulted because they were outdone by someone they will see as a newbie and I can give them a reminder that you are an experienced veteran with Interpol and that this is far from your first rodeo..." he sighed. "But I can't do much about the City Council."
That caught the vulpine woman's attention. "The City Council?" She frowned as the police chief gave a firm nod of his head in response. "What about them?" The Latina vixen asked, becoming rather curious as to why the man who bring up Zootopia's board of legislation.
Meeting the smaller predator's inquisitive gaze, the large bovidae looked deep into her chocolate-eyed gaze with his own deep brown orbs. "Judging by what you've gone through since you arrived and your personal background as an experienced Inspector of Interpol, I believe you can venture an educated guess as to how the political system here is set up... such as how some criminals aren't supposed to be brought in until just before big elections?"
The canid cop's eyes widened to the point of practically bulging out of her skull. "...It's an election year for Zootopia." She said, more a statement than a question.
Nodding his head, the bovine bruiser pushed his seat back and stood up. "They were purposely allowing low-rung criminals like Rock and Beebo to cause a ruckus... someone visible without being real trouble–to them, that is. So when the elections are held in eight months, they could have gone, 'Look who I caught through so much hard work: re-elect me'!"
Shaking her head in disbelief, the canid policewoman didn't want to accept what the Chief Bogo was telling her. "You mean they were..." she trailed off, unable to bring herself to say it.
Nodding his head solemnly, Chief Idriis M'Bogo came around his desk and reached down, giving his subordinate officer a gentle pet on the back. "You feel that pat? That is where you have a big target plastered now."
Rolling her eyes, Officer Fox couldn't help but groan out. Politics sucked giant hairy bear balls! "So now what happens?" She asked, wanting some idea of what sort of backlash was coming her way she could at least try to prepare herself for it.
The mammal mulled over it for a moment, not one to give her false hope but do figure something that he could reasonably manage for her. "The best I can do for the time is have you work street-level assignments for a while, maybe parking meters if you're unlucky." Bogo shook his head at the saddened look on the woman's face. He just knew the council, as bad as they were. They were likely already plotting something humiliating, disgusting, and possibly dangerous. "Just don't be surprised if the Council or the Mayor sends me something before tomorrow about where to assign you." Personally, the horned prey mammal wanted to see what Carmelita was capable of; he was tempted to have her work as a beat cop around some of the more high crime parts of town such as the Meadowlands to test her mettle.
Such would have likely been much safer than whatever those politicians had in mind.
Merely coming to an understanding and reluctant acceptance at what was to befall her, Carmelita could only curse under her breath, "Coja mi vida." She shook her head in annoyance, trying to cope with what she'd been told. "For people that are trying to push this half-assed Mammal Inclusion Initiative, they seem dead-set on NOT helping this city."
"That's just how politics are. It's a dirty thing." Idriis would have really vented but he refrained. Considering that they had eyes and ears everywhere–let alone the fact he was currently missing a door–the African Buffalo didn't want anything to get back to them. Still, that didn't mean he couldn't give the vixen some advice. "Just remember, this: don't listen to what I say in the Bullpen tomorrow. You follow your assignments as they're written in the case files..." a small chuckle escaped his throat. "I am getting older and need glasses. So if I read it wrong... well, you'll know where you need to truly be when I hand you the paperwork." Granted it was a bit of self-depreciation but such would likely help her out if the damned council had him do to her what he was certain they would.
He had only been the chief of the ZPD for four years now but he had played the game for well over a decade at this point. He could predict some of their maneuvers before they made them, as they had depended on such under-pawed tactics for so long. And like them, he too learned the value of plausible deniability long since.
Again, the blue-haired vixen nodded. It wouldn't be the first time she was given an official order and then disregarded it for one reason or another. "Is that all, Chief Bogo?"
"For now, just try to not do stuff like that again," he said in all seriousness, even as the man's muzzle split into a grim smile. "Off the record though? I will admit that on one paw, I can't help but feel a measure of respect for you. While you defied an unofficial order... you did it because you were merely doing what you were trained to do. You saw a crime and acted." His eyes then narrowed. "However, on the other paw? If you were a rookie and pulled this shit, I would be chewing your head off as if I were the predator right now because you acted so damned recklessly! It's only because you are a trained and experienced veteran officer that I'll merely say: don't you DARE pull any crazy stunts like that without back-up again!"
"I had Officer Clawhauser!" The vixen chirruped in her defense.
Crossing his arms over his impressive chest, the African buffalo just glared down at his subordinate officer, his expression practically asking the woman, 'Really'?
Not one to be easily cowed, Carmelita frowned back. "Just because I'm not the hero this city wants, doesn't mean I can't be the hero this city needs!"
The glare intensified.
"...Damn it, that always worked for Sly when he said it to Barkley," the vixen grumbled irritably.
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Standing in front of an open refrigerator in the kitchen of his long-time friend and secondary mother Mrs. Honey Badger's home, Nick slowly but surely unloaded the bag of groceries he had on the floor to his right into the cooling unit. He removed the numerous zip lock-bagged deli items one after another, loading them into the fridge as he whistled a theme that some people would have recognized as the tune to the videogame, 'Tetris'. Being an older model of fridge, the somewhat-modern convenience was both larger AND smaller. It was made of denser materials than present day models–possibly solid enough that it could have possibly helped someone survive a nuclear blast–but the actual interior was surprisingly small due to how thick said walls were and how large the motor in the base was so the vulpine was forced to try and make the most of what little storage area was actually available.
Standing on a counter top with another of the grocery bags, the red fox's partner in street hustling and goffering was slowly filling one of the wall cabinets, sticking in can after can of soup and/or vegetables into the wooden structure. As he grabbed another of the aluminum cans, Finnick paused for a moment and stared at the label of the Lampbell soup can one more time before letting off a small, depressed sigh. "She does realize we could have easily saved at least sixty-bucks if we just got the no-name brands, right?"
The petite predator's partner merely shrugged at his inquiry as he found a spot for a carton of one dozen eggs. "Why are you concerned? It's not either of our money, is it?" The red fox responded with an inquiry of his own, just wanting his pal to drop this line of conversation already. This was the fourth time today the fennec had brought this up!
However, the smaller of the two canid con-mammals wasn't having it. "That's beside the point! We could have pocketed the rest for ourselves if we just purchased the generic stuff!" He said firmly, positively annoyed that the chance to scam had to be tossed to the wayside.
Pausing in his packing of the fridge, Nick gave turned his head towards his compatriot in conning and gave him a flat look. "Do you really think she wouldn't know that something was up when she got less money back than she should have?"
Finnick scoffed at that. He knew Carmelita was smart as she was a fox after all! However, it was obvious she had never gone shopping in Zootopia–how was she to know the economy? Plus it's not like he was going to tell her. "What? She'll look at the sales receipt?"
"I imagine she'll go shopping sometime or complain to Benji about the price of generic stuff," the male red fox stated, causing the tiny terror to twitch. "And then what? Get fired from a legit business deal and have to go back to hustling when there's a cop out there we both know personally? A cop that will then likely hold a grudge against us and go out of her way to make our lives a living hell for the next six months while she's here?"
Considering the scenario for a moment, the fennec's shoulders came to sag in defeat. "...Fine," the desert fox grumbled irritably. "Still seems like a waste. That sixty bucks could have easily gone towards more groceries or a chance to eat out," he said in all seriousness. As he turned back to the cabinetry to store away more canned goods, he couldn't help but complain, "For being a fox, she sure sucks at actually saving her cash."
Shrugging his shoulders–as he couldn't really defend Officer Fox in that regard–the taller of the two predatory mammals pointed out, "Well you have to remember that she isn't from Zootopia." Sticking right paw into the bag and coming up empty, the vulpine tilted his head down and saw that indeed, there was nothing left in it. So turning about and making his way to the kitchen table with the rest of the shopping bags, he continued to say, "She likely hasn't ever had to face the same problems and discrimination we do until she actually stepped foot here. Heck, I have to give her credit: if I lived elsewhere, I would have told my boss to stuff this position where the sun doesn't shine and gone back home!"
"She's lucky she only has to be here for a few months," the petite predator agreed as he climbed up into said cabinet to begin filling in one of the higher shelves. "I mean, she's obviously in for a rough time of it as it is. I don't think her fellow cops are going to appreciate being shown up by a vixen on the international news..."
The crimson-pelted con-mammal couldn't help but smirk at that thought. "Serves 'em right, I think! We both know that if you can't compete that you'll get beaten out by better competition." It was why Weaselton despised them so much. They could concoct a far more successful hustle than he ever could. About the only thing the twitchy mustelidae had for a stable con was his petty bootlegging operation and that always drew the attention of the cops.
"Maybe for regular life," the desert fox agreed. "But you and I both know politics makes all competition worthless. It becomes less about how good you are and more who you know," Finnick grumbled irritably, remembering someone–while not a friend–was at least of a decent sort that constantly got passed over for promotions at his work for years because less deserving mammals had sucked up to the bosses to get the promotions ahead of him.
Of course, said business no longer existed these days.
But then again, most Sheep-run businesses ended up crapping out around the beginning of the new millennium, he desert mammal thought with a bit of devious glee. Being able to be part of the herd and finding a niche in it didn't mean a thing if one couldn't compete with OTHER businesses in the same field. Take that, Bradllama's! Wallaby-Mart's was the way of the future for general purpose schlock houses with variety and fair prices!
Considering that for a moment as he carefully climbed down the shelves of the cabinet, the large-eared vulpine couldn't help but comment, "Maybe next time we should try shopping at the Big Blue; if we have to get her brand names, we could at least save ten bucks."
Slowly setting another brown paper bag down before Honey's fridge, the male red fox raised his right eyebrow at the suggestion. "What? You meant Wallaby-Mart's?" Seeing his pal nod his head, Nick couldn't help but snort. "Oh please! That place is WAY overrated! About the only good one left in the city is in Little Rodentia because they have to compete with a Targoat's and neither of us can fit inside!" The carnivore paused for a moment before continuing. "And yes, I am surprisingly including you in that assessment," he pointed out, purposely poking fun at his partner's vertically-challenged status of being... well... a fennec!
The tiny vulpine twitched irritably at the wisecrack about his height. "I swear to God, Wilde! I will... kick... you..." he trailed off as furniture in the house started to shake. "What the?" A small drinking glass started rattling on the counter until it hit the edge and fell over, shattering on the ground. "Is this an—" the desert fox was cut off as the rumbling got louder and the tremors greater! So much so that Finnick felt his whole body shaking and bouncing just as the glass had. "EARTHQUAKE!" He screamed as he felt like a tiny rubber ball.
"QUICK! Get down and cover your head!" Nick yelled as he jumped away from the fridge and ran like crazy towards an open doorway. The last thing he needed was to be squished by a refrigerator or have the ceiling come crashing down on him.
The trembling continued for a bit, the poor fennec landed on and began skittering about atop the floor, unable to get a footing as the trembling rocked the older building. This was incredibly odd! Sure, they were North of the San Andreas Fault-line but Zootopia was considerably outside the range of the Ring of Fire. The city wasn't geographically situated to where it could be affected by earthquakes of THIS level!
However, before the taller of the two could ponder what was causing this, the quake stopped just as soon as it began. Nick blinked his eyes once, twice before surveying the kitchen. A few broken knickknacks and a partner that looked like he just want a few rounds with a beaver and got tail-slapped like a bitch. "Hey, Finnick?" He called out to the stunned vulpine. "Are you okay?"
Laying on the ground for a few moments in complete and utter silence, the petite predator slowly began sat up. Once he was in an upright position, the fennec finally nodded his head. "Yeah, I will be," he admitted as he too began to look about the kitchen. "Holy cock-a-doodle-doo! That was some quake. I can't remember one ever hitting Zooto—"
*HONK*!
*HONK*!
Both vulpine men blinked their eyes as the sound of what had to be one of the loudest truck horns they ever heard right outside the house. Curiosity getting the better of them–after all, they weren't cats and had no need to worry about being killed–the taller of the two awaited his partner to get back on his feet before they made their way through the house and to the front door, opening it to see what the ruckus was.
Both predators felt as if their jaws were going to tear free from their skulls at how far they felt their lower set of teeth drop. It was a Humvee, in particular one sized for much larger mammals. Unlike what one could expect of civilian models, this sucker was decked out in a heavily armor exterior that was pained with a shiny coat of black and white zebra-striped paint and two tusk-like tow-hooks on the front.
After a few seconds of silence from the two canid men, the driver's side window began to slowly roll down. When it had, a very familiar vixen stuck her head out. "Hola!" She called out in greeting to her fellow foxes. "What do you think? Is this the sort of vehicle Honey would want in her front yard?" She asked with a faux-innocent tone even as the smile that was plastered across her muzzle was one of absolute pure-vulpine mischievousness.
His ears plastered back against his skull in shock, Nick reached down to touch the bottom of his chin almost reflexively; idly wondering if he were part snake with the way his jaw felt as though it had fallen down past his waist. Finally, he pushed it back up to close his mouth, allowing his brain a chance to reboot so he could comprehend what was going on. Eventually, he just looked up at the Hispanic beauty in the driver's seat and carefully surmised. "That... um... that is to say... that earthquake was you!?" He finally blurted out in a stuttering fashion.
The Hispanic vixen behind the wheel blinked her lovely brown eyes in surprise at that comment. "Earthquake?" Carmelita asked as she leaned back into the vehicle and rolled up the window. In a moment, the rev of the engine died down and the door opened, the female red fox jumping out of the vehicle. Closing the door behind her, the woman's gaze turned towards her fellow red fox. "I didn't feel an earthquake, so I suppose that might have been the weight and raw power of the vehicle just thrumming through the area around it..." she offered as a possible suggestion before reaching her hand out and patting the front bumper. "Besides that, please tell me Nicholas... what do you think of my new ride?"
His own train of thought finally getting back on track, the Zerdan couldn't help but inquire, "Are you going to tell us the ZPD actually gave that to you!?" The tone of his baritone voice conveyed just how in awe of the machine of mass destruction he was. He obviously hadn't been in love with a machine like this since he first bought the Ford Lobos.
Nodding her head in confirmation of the fennec's inquiry, the policewoman turned about to face the pair of canids fully as she replied, "Well... yes! I mean, that was part of the deal I made with Mrs. Badger. She wanted a big advertisement of a police presence at her home and, to be frank? It doesn't get much bigger than this!" She chimed as she used her right hand to thumb over her shoulder and back at the squad car that was practically a tank for mammals their size.
The petit predator continued to look upon the vehicle longingly for a moment more before he managed to find his voice again. "...You do have the keys, right?" Finnick tilted his head as he tried to gaze upon it from another angle. "Also, does it have extra security?" He wouldn't put it past a few mammals to try and steal it. Heck, if he wasn't so... vertically challenged... he would think about doing that himself!
Nodding her head once more, Carmelita brought her right hand down to her side and gently patted her pants pocket. "Of course I have the keys right here. As for extra security, it does have a GPS tracker in it–just like all the other squad cards do. So if someone IS stupid enough to try and jack my ride, it will be possible to track them down. But enough of that," she stated abruptly, wanting to change the subject. "Would either of you gentlemen care to use your phones to take a picture of me with the vehicle? Since Honey won't come out of her bunker, I want to at least show her that I am living up to my end of the bargain."
It was the taller of the pair that managed to respond first. "Uh... sure! Sure thing," the Hawaiian shirt-clad canid replied to his fellow red fox as he withdrew his cell phone from his pants pocket. Using his thumb to flip through options and apps, he soon had the device set to the camera mode. "All right now. When you're ready, say cheese!"
Straightening out her posture, the Latina vixen saluted and offered a bright smile. "Cheese!" As the flash went off, the vulpine woman was quick to relax again. "Gracias again, Nicholas..." she leaned back, using the vehicle's front bumper to help support her posture. "Dios bueno, you guys wouldn't believe what I went through for my first day with the ZPD..."
Putting his phone away, the male vulpine chuckled and gave a small shake of his noggin in response to that statement. "Oh, I believe we have an idea..." Nick couldn't help but chirruped as Finnick nodded his head so energetically that it caused his massive ears to wobble, wave and overall flop about as if he were some stuffed animal.
Studying the two for a moment with a scrutinizing gaze, the woman couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at their actions. "Let me guess," she began slowly. "It's already been all over the news?" When the pair of predators nodded their heads, the vixen could only shrug her shoulders. She should have known word would travel fast. "Well, that does make it easier." She laughed softly before realization hit her. "Oh!" she snapped her fingers. "Did you get all the stuff I wanted you to purchase at the grocery store?"
"Yes!" Both of her fellow mammals chirruped in sync before the taller of the pair continued, "In fact, we saw everything on the store's TV while we were shopping." The male red fox stepped up to the even taller police officer and smiled. "And there is something I need to tell you."
Blinking her eyes, the navy blue-haired vixen replied, "What is it, Nicholas?" She then gasped out in surprise, her eyes going wide as the man threw himself at and gave her a very tight if not outright grateful hug. "...Nick?" The woman whispered his name, feeling a little awkward at the show of affection.
"Thank you," the male vulpine said in all seriousness. "That guy screwed Finnick and me over two months ago. Him and his partner busted up one of our business outlets before the work day was over and took most of our earnings. We were never able to get any help from the police but then here you are! You come along and on your first day you toss his ass behind bars." He tightened his grip as he told her, "Thank you."
Rolling his eyes, Finnick couldn't help but snort at his partner's actions. That went Wilde again, being all wishy-washy and over-emotional. No wonder Vanilla had wanted to use Nick as a subject for her mid-term thesis paper back when she and her sisters were working their way through college! He was a friggin' mess! With more emotional baggage than the John F. Kenneighdy International in New York!
Looking left and right a few times, the female officer couldn't help but wonder how long the man was going to hang onto her. "Ah... um, no problem..." she said slowly, blinking her eyes as he seemed to just hug her tighter in response. Blushing a bit more, the woman sighed in growing annoyance. "You can let go any time now," the Latina vulpine muttered, knowing that while her fellow red fox was just doing it out of gratitude, that didn't make the current situation any less... embarrassing for her.
For his part, the male vulpine didn't seem to hear her as he continued to praise, "Thank you... thank you! I've never had anyone go to bat for me like that... you make me want to believe that—"
"Please let go!" Carmelita finally barked out as she came to the end of her wits, interrupting her fellow vulpine and snapping him out of his stupor of compliments and praise he was showering upon her.
Blinking his eyes a few times, a small flush managed to make its way through the male fox's facial fur. "Er... right..." he murmured as he released his hold of the taller vixen. Taking a step back to quickly give her a bit of personal space, the man straightened out his posture and used his paws to wipe down his shirt to smoothen out the wrinkles he out in it. "Sorry about that, Carm. I don't know what came over me just then."
"Probably the fact you haven't felt the touch of a woman in... what? Three years at this point?" Finnick suggested, before chuckling at the glare his somewhat-friend directed his way. "What? It's true. You're just lucky the triplets stay in touch with us because of me!"
Needless to say, such a comment caught the Latina vixen's attention. "What's this? You don't have a girlfriend?" The navy blue-tressed vulpine blinked her eyes in surprise, shocked that he didn't have a significant other. Wilde reminded her considerably of Cooper, and the mischievous raccoon had been QUITE the charmer back in his thieving days. Someone like Nick should have had women lining up around the block! "I would have thought you'd have at least a couple women interested in you."
A chuckle sounded from the smaller vulpine's throat. "Funny you should mention that, Miss Fox. Wilde here~MURPHLE!?"
"Worked very hard to make sure we tracked down everything on your list!" The taller of the two male foxes chirruped nervously, interjecting an answer for the desert fox as he placed his hand over his partner's muzzle in an effort to silence him. "Yep! It was quite the trek through the grocery store but we found everything you wante~ED!?" He yelped as he tried to pull his paw free as the fennec firmly bit down on it.
Staring at the pair as they fought amongst themselves, Carmelita couldn't help but shake her head in exasperation. "If you don't have a girlfriend, you don't need to be embarrassed by it. Some mammals just don't date like others. So, ignore what they do." She waved him off. "How about we instead go inside and relax, huh?" After the day she had, Officer Fox wanted to have a chance to take off her boots and kick her feet up.
"Yeah..." Finnick trailed off before narrowing his eyes at his partner. Even as he glared at the male red fox, he remembered to tell the vixen, "By the way, you're cleaning the mess up, Miss Fox."
The woman went wide-eyed, taken aback by the smaller vulpine's statement. Taking a moment to calm herself, the vixen gazed back into the tinier mammal's blazing orange eyes with her own chocolate gaze. "...What mess?" She asked, confusion clearly evident in her voice.
A small smirk tugged at the corner of the petite predator's muzzle. "Well, come inside and see for yourself..." Finnick said pointedly as he motioned towards the house.
Waving his hand to get over the throbbing pain the fennec's teeth had inflicted upon it, the taller of the pair was quick to offer, "If you want, I can start working on dinner while you clean the kitchen." Since her vehicle was the cause of the catastrophe, he wouldn't really fault Finnick's logic that she be responsible for cleaning it up...
...Unless she was willing to pay them more! Than you could just call him Nicholas 'Mr. Clean' Wilde!
Again, the vixen blinked her eyes in shock. "Clean the kitchen?" She squawked out in surprise. A thought coming to her, the woman crossed her arms over her chest and pointedly told them, "I may be Hispanic but I'm not Mexican! What do I look like, some day-laborer!?"
Both men wisely kept their mouths shut.
Twitching irritably as their silence was more damning than actual words the vixen stormed past the pair and went inside the house. When she came upon the kitchen, Carmelita stopped in her tracks as she saw the broken glass shards everywhere, along with a few other disturbed articles of appliances in the area. Now understanding what the fennec was referring to, the police officer could only meekly mutter out, "Oh. That's what you meant..."
Coming to stand beside her, the male red fox nodded his head in agreement. "On the plus side..." Nick chirruped as he leaned in. "My offer to cook for you still stands. And I promise, the meal won't include one iota of ramen!"
Turning her head to the right to look at her fellow red fox, the Hispanic vixen raised an eyebrow high enough that it disappeared into her hairline. "Ramen? What are you, a college student?"
"I told you!" Finnick practically roared in a victorious fashion.
Twitching slightly in irritation at being further called out on his eating habits, the Hawaiian shirted hustler could only murmur, "Everyone's a critic..."
Placing her hands on her hips, the female vulpine sighed. "I suppose it could have been worse," she admitted softly. Giving him a small smile, the Latina beauty added, "You could have offered to make me tacos..."
"Or French fries!" Finnick remarked, grinning deviously in return to the looks the two taller predators gave him. "What? You came from France, didn't you?" He chirruped. "If you don't want the stereotypical stuff, what do you suggest for a good European dish?"
"Only European food I actually know how to serve would be classic British biscuits and tea," Carmelita admitted, chalking that one up to having learned the skill from Chief Barkley during her time spent serving under him as his protégé. "Well, that and Belgian waffles."
Silence reigned over the kitchen for a moment as the three considered that admission from the police officer. "...Now I want waffles." All three of them muttered at the same time, almost in perfect syn. If there was one thing everyone liked, it was waffles.
After a moment of considering that little happenstance, it was the male red fox that voiced what everyone was thinking. "...So... waffles it is?" He asked of the pair with him. "Zerdan and I did pick up a few boxes from the frozen food section as per your request."
Nodding her head, Carmelita thoroughly agreed, "Waffles." They might not have been Sly's homemade confectionary perfection but they would do. After the day she had, she could use a little comfort food.
Tomorrow though? She'd likely need a whole box.
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Author's Notes: Hello again, my readers! Thank you for your patience and allowing me the time needed to write! I hope you find this chapter enjoyable; I tried to do something a bit different. I find one can't just keep throwing the audience into a serious situation over and over, so this chapter was meant as a bit of a breather, to explore more facets of Zootopia without needing to solve a crime or face outright specism.
I also decided to make this chapter a bit heavier on the Nick-side of things, considering the poor fox didn't get any page-time in the previous chapter... and in doing so, I was able to come up with an origin for of one of the movie's best scams: the 'father-and-son' duo out for a Jumbo Pop! And all it takes is spreading the word about a case of pachydermitis.
As for feedback, I thank you my readers for your opinions and praise. In particular, there is one I feel that needs addressing. Well, chronocrosser I can understand that The Weaver's Pack Street Tales stories and comics are awesome and I would be interested in throwing a character in for a background scene or two but I am unsure as to how to get ahold of the man. With Nicholaswilde's concepts and characters of Zistopia, I got to talk to him and get permission. So he knew this would eventually be coming.
Ah well. It's probably for the best. If I brought Pack Street into this, I would be SORELY tempted to follow-through on The Weaver's idea of Mrs. Wilde. And no one is going to want me to do that! Especially Nick!
A shout-out to XKhaosXKyuubiX also needs to be given. Thank you for the fanfic recommendation on TvTropes. That is most kindly of you. I'm glad I was able to entertain you enough to warrant it and I hope to maintain that level of writing.
Just a reminder! The Zootopia News Network's New England Meet-Up Party is this coming Saturday, August 27th. I will definitely be there and look forward to meeting the likes of Redman404, author of the rather delightful, "Hopps and Robbers" fanfiction and Andy Lagopuss, who put together and moderates the ZNN website, sharing more Zootopia goodness among the fans.
If anyone attends, you'll find me wearing a custom Fox Point t-shirt.
Next update should be September 3rd if all goes well. Thank you all for your time and remember, as Gazelle told us: Try Everything!
