Hello, my fellow Zootopians!

The report of my death was an exaggeration. (Mark Twain)

Welcome to the final arc of this story, subtitled: "How to Utterly Demolish a City Council." ;-)

I know, I'm awfully late with this, but the last three months have been hell in a handbasket. My original plan was to take a few days off over the Christmas holidays. But then one thing came to another. The main issue I had to deal with was health problems (my back again), caused in no small part by a traffic accident which claimed the life of my trusty scooter. (Yes, Euphonemes, it's gone for good, sadly! The steering column was damaged beyond repair.) To get to work, I had to plunge into debts to replace it with a car, an eleven-year-old clunker with a whopping 79 bhp.

So I'm basically broke right now, but that wasn't all, not by a long shot. My father, who just turned 85 a few weeks ago, spent about four weeks in hospital with a bout of pneumonia, Doesn't sound like a big deal, but after four minor strokes and one heart attack, on top of diabetes and high blood pressure, he's quite frail, so at some point I was certain the infection would kill him. Fortunately, he's way too stubborn to allow some stupid infection to do him in.

My workload was humongous, the usual household chores beckoned, another choir concert will take place in a few weeks, so we have a lot of practice sessions - it all kept piling up.

The few days off turned into a quarter of a year. A quarter of a year crazy enough for me to not be able to even touch my computer at all, so I wasn't even able to answer private messages.

On the bright side, after 28 years of continuously ruining my health, I finally managed to stop smoking. Okay, that's not quite true, I started vaping a few weeks ago, using e-cigarettes, but it's way better than smoking the real deal. In case you're interested in starting to smoke, don't do it! Bad habit! (My wife hasn't touched even one cigarette in her entire life, and I sort of envy her for this …)

Now, with everything and everyone up and running again and a head full of ideas how to finish this, nothing's gonna stop me now - I hope …

I bow down in gratitude towards everyone who hasn't forgotten about me or this story. Special shouts go out to DSLeo, DrummerMax64, Darksonickiller, HawkTooth, Dirtkid123, Kenneth Walker, gistech, LupinTheWolf (aka Hpalex13), Story. Writer. 2015, hellion117, tweiler18, celtcath74, AlbineFox, Matri, Galaxyexplorer74, eng050599, Foxlover91, Robert Escher, Combat Engineer, Archangel12575, The Valeyard, an anonymous guest and a whole host of guys asking about my well-being. I'm fine, thank you very much. It's just that life wasn't exactly kind to me …

And in case I answered a review two times, sorry, but at one point I had no idea anymore whose reviews I had answered already. Please don't hold it against me!

A very special "Sorry!" to Euphonemes. I really wanted to continue proof-reading your story, but I simply had no time whatsoever! Mea culpa!

The stats are quite irrelevant at this point, seeing as I haven't published anything for so long a time, but here they are: More than 6,800 views, 90 reviews, 50 favorites, and 81 alerts. Huge increases since the last chapter, obviously. Thanks for sticking with me through all this [expletive censored] that is my life.

Unbeknownst to me, February 6, 2017 was a sensational day for me! Thanks to DrummerMax64, this was the day my first story, "Now Your Nightmare Comes to Life," appeared on ZNN! I only learned about this three days ago! Never thought I'd see the day! Consider me to be forever in your debt, DrummerMax64! You've just officially become one of my favorite mammals on this planet!

This chapter's motto song has a little story behind it. Several months ago, shortly after the last chapter was published, a user named tweiler18 asked me in a review whether I like rock music, seeing that the last chapters motto song was from Metallica. I confirmed this, referring him/her to my profile page. He/she then proceeded to ask me if I liked Skillet and Five Finger Death Punch. Well, I like Skillet alright, but I cannot say I'd ever even heard the other band's name. So I checked them out. And you should, too, because they're AWESOME! Over the course of the last weeks, I must have listened to at least thirty songs by 5FDP, and I liked each and every one of them, which is a first - every musician and band on this planet, no matter how much I like them, has produced at least a dozen songs I can't help disliking. tweiler18 had even pointed out a certain song to me, and after listening to it, it was clear to me that this had to be the next chapter's motto song. And through it, I also salute all those great human beings who gave us great music, only to leave us much too soon. Watch the song's video on YouTube (just enter "Five Finger Death Punch I Apologize"), and you know what made me write this. Thanks a lot, tweiler18, for sharing this with me! Guess I found a new favorite band, too!

The chapter's title itself is taken from the song of the same name, written by Sean Harris and Brian Tatler, first published by Diamond Head in 1980, on their album "Lightning to the Nations," Happy Face Records, but popularized by Metallica, released on the B-side of their single "Creeping Death," published in 1984 by Elektra/Megaforce.

The disclaimer can be found in the first chapter.


Chapter Nine

Am I Evil?

All these times I simply stepped aside. I watched but never really listened as the whole world passed me by.

Five Finger Death Punch: "I Apologize" (Written by Zoltan Bathory, Kevin Churko, Ivan L. Moody, Jason Hook, and Jeremy Spencer, from the album "Got Your Six - Deluxe Edition," Prospect Park, 2015)


ZPD Precinct One Headquarters, Office of the Chief of Police, City Center, Zootopia

With a crackle, the intercom came to life. "Chief Bogo?"

Bogo pressed the appropriate button. "What is it?"

"Excuse me, sir," Officer Caballus said haltingly, "but Sergeant Higgins has returned."

"With the suspect, I presume."

"Indeed."

"Which interrogation room?"

"One." She started saying something else, but stopped again, hesitating audibly.

Bogo rolled his eyes. "What is it, Officer?"

"Well, erm, Sergeant Higgins asked for a few minutes of your time, sir."

"Tell him to wait. The interrogation takes precedence."

"Er, well, he asked for a few minutes of your time before the interrogation, sir."

"He did? Did he tell you why?"

"Uhm, yes, he did, but I think he should tell you himself."

Bogo made a frown. "Where is he?"

"He's waiting down here with me."

"I'm on my way."

It took Bogo less than a minute to reach the receptionist's desk. Higgins was standing in front of it, an unusually grave expression on his face. Without preamble, Bogo said: "Spill it, Higgins!"

Higgins straightened himself. "Sir, during the arrest, several things happened that you should know before you go down there."

"Did you face any problems?"

"No, sir, none at all. Young Mr. Swinton didn't try to resist arrest. That's not what I wanted to talk to you about. You see, one of the tables in the classroom I found him in was empty, being converted into some sort of shrine."

Bogo inhaled with a hiss. "Don't tell me she was his classmate."

"She was. And that's not all. You know my eyesight's not the best to begin with, but I could swear that among the other children, there were two zebras, three antelopes, and one sheep. And I guess, if we compare the footage with their faces …"

Bogo narrowed his gaze. "Are you trying to tell me that they ganged up to kill their own classmate?" His voice was barely more than a whisper, yet it held all the menace in the world.

Despite knowing that the Chief's fury wasn't directed at him, Higgins flinched, probably involuntarily. "It certainly seems that way, sir."

Bogo involuntarily clenched his hooves. "Anything else?"

"Yes. I tried to keep the arrest low-key, as per your orders. I asked Mr. Swinton to simply follow me outside, so his classmates wouldn't be forced to hear the whole gruesome story. However, he had no qualms to admit to killing Ms. Pardinus, or, as he called her, the 'filthy pred.' His words, not mine."

"He admitted to it?"

"He did."

"In front of witnesses?"

"In front of his whole class, yes. His teacher, one Mr. Tantor, told me that he was willing to give a witness statement."

"You have his phone number and address?"

"Of course."

"Call him. Let him give that statement. Might save us a lot of trouble." Bogo turned towards Caballus, who had followed their exchange with all signs of anxiety. "Call Major Mastiff, tell him …"

"He's already down there," Higgins interrupted him quietly. "He was waiting for my return here and took the boy to the interrogation room at once."

Bogo nodded. "Carry on!" He turned on his heel and stormed towards the set of stairs leading to the basement. He was walking fast, with purpose. To the casual observer, he looked ever bit like a hurricane, threatening to unleash hell and havoc on the unfortunate mammal in his path of utter destruction.

Upon reaching the interrogation room's antechamber, the door to the interrogation room proper opened, and Mastiff emerged, together with Officer Pennington. Bogo looked at them with a frown. Even at the best of times, Mastiff's scarred face was difficult to read, so Bogo had gotten used to not being able to tell what he was thinking. Now, however, his facial expression left no room for any misconception:

Adimar Mastiff was shocked beyond all measure.

And Pennington looked, if indeed such a thing was possible, even worse.

"Well?" Bogo asked, looking at Mastiff. "Having difficulty getting him to talk?"

Mastiff seemed to ignore him. Looking at Pennington, he said in a rather faint voice: "Did this really happen, Francine? I didn't, by any chance, mishear something?"

Pennington shook her head so violently that her trunk started swinging, narrowly missing the much smaller Mastiff. "I'm afraid you heard it quite well, Adimar. I heard it, too."

"What's wrong?" Bogo demanded to know. "Does he talk?"

Mastiff took a deep breath. "He does. Oh yes, he does!"

"Did he give a statement? Without a lawyer? There is no lawyer here yet, right?"

"Right on all accounts, Adrian."

"He gave a statement without …"

Adimar raised his paw, silencing his superior. "Believe me, I tried to Mirandize him no less than three times. It seems like he doesn't care."

"You have a confession?"

Mastiff snorted. "Not only did he give a full confession, he literally made a boast of the murder. He told me, and I quote: 'The stinking pred simply got what she deserved.' And he even had the nerve to add: 'You're next.'"

Bogo's eyes narrowed. No wonder Mastiff was looking so shocked. Having been told by an adolescent that he was the next in line to be killed, that would have shocked even the most hardened, most experienced veterans. Not out of fear, simply out of incredulity. "He did really say this?"

"He did. And before you ask, we recorded all of this. Plus Francine was present, as was Brian McHorn. He's currently standing guard over the boy."

"Let me get this straight. Higgins arrested him and brought him here, you started telling him his rights, he began a confession without waiting for legal counsel, he admitted to the crime and added more crimes to his name. Correct so far?"

"Couldn't have put it better myself." Mastiff took a deep breath. "And what do we do now?"

Pennington piped in: "Just how deep does this conspiracy run? Fleecewood mentioned three more councilmammals. Is this really all of them? Or are there more culprits we don't know about?"

For a few seconds, Bogo was at a loss for words. With a visible effort, he finally said: "Do you think that, if there still are mammals connected to the conspiracy that we haven't been able to find yet, that he's one of them? Or at least knows enough about it to say stuff like that?"

Pennington shook her head at once, while Mastiff considered the question for a moment. The wolf finally said: "I don't think so. Would you really entrust a 15-year-old kid with knowledge of something very illegal?"

Bogo sucked in a sharp breath. "He's just 15?"

"He turned 15 little more than a month ago."

Pennington said: "I guess he's still full of that 'predators are dangerous' crap. The stuff he says, it sounds just like the baloney all those anti-pred idiots were spouting up until a few days ago."

Mastiff nodded. "Makes sense. If he's into that stuff, threatening me is little more than consequential."

Bogo eyed Mastiff sharply. "What do you think? Does he really believe in what he says?"

"Difficult to say. When I was 15, my head was still up in the clouds. My knowledge of the world at large, especially its inner workings, was negligible at best."

"In other words, we must ask ourselves where his, ahem, 'knowledge' comes from." Bogo thought he knew the answer, but he wanted to hear confirmation nonetheless.

"Oh, that's easy," Pennington said. "Probably his mother. She's always been a staunch supporter of Bellwether. Nick, ehm, Mr. Wilde told me earlier that they played tennis together."

Bogo nodded. "That's what I thought. Do you think it would be better to leave the boy be and concentrate on his dear mother?"

"It certainly won't do any harm to ask her about it," Mastiff said.

Bogo turned towards Pennington. "Officer, please go up to Clawhau… to Caballus and tell her to give Councilmammal Swinton a call."

"Of course." Pennington turned and left.

"She's the Acting Mayor now," Mastiff said silently while watching Pennington leave.

Bogo groaned. "You gotta be kidding me!"

"I'm not, believe me. She was the fourth in line after Lionheart, Bellwether, and Aries."

"Great! Who's next? Hopps was so right, we do run through those Mayors at an alarming rate."

"Not our fault, Adrian. And to answer your question, with both Pardalis and Murinus being forced out of office, the next in line seems to be Cameron Caballus."

"Caballus? The father of Officer Caballus?" Bogo snorted. "Fantastic!"

Mastiff made a frown. "What's wrong with him?"

"A few days ago, after we arrested Bellwether, I was discussing a possible successor for her with Wilde. He told me that all Caballus was interested in was protecting his construction company." Upon seeing the surprise on Mastiff's face, he quickly added: "Given the fact that Wilde seems to be most knowledgeable when it comes to other mammals, and councilmammals in particular, I tend to believe him."

"That's … not good."

Bogo gave a sigh. "At least Caballus isn't likely to put more spokes into our wheels."

"Are you sure?"

"That's what his daughter told me. He was voting against the motion of upholding the suspensions of our predator officers, but was outvoted."

Suddenly, Mastiff gave his famous, lopsided grin. "Aren't we getting ahead of ourselves a little here? Swinton's still in office."

"You don't think she'll abdicate?"

The grin vanished. "No idea. She's done nothing wrong, strictly speaking. Her son's the culprit, not her. I guess it depends on her willingness to take responsibility, and I'm afraid I don't know her well enough to really be able to tell what she might do."

"Wasn't she playing tennis in her youth?"

"Oh, yes, she was. She's still the only mammal on this planet who won the Golden Slam, the four major tennis tournaments plus the gold medal at the Zoolympic Games, in one year. And after her career, she used her popularity to become a politician." Mastiff gave a pause. "My wife's a huge fan of hers."

"Ah. Are you?"

Mastiff chuckled. "You know what Ayrton Hyenna said, Adrian? 'I have no idols. I admire work, dedication, and competence.'"

Bogo snorted. "After I became Chief, I suddenly found myself in the company of the high and mighty. All those banquets and balls - I must have shaken the hooves and paws of virtually every celebrity Zootopia has to offer. You know what I found out? It simply makes no sense to have idols. Get to know some of those mammals worshipped by others as their idols, and you learn pretty quickly that they're not the kind of guys you want to have as role models."

"Is it really that …" Mastiff made a frown and looked past Bogo.

Bogo turned around to look in the same direction, towards the staircase. "What's wrong?"

"Someone's coming. Sounds like small hooves."

Bogo did hear nothing, but that was hardly surprising. The sensory equipment of wolves was vastly superior to that of a cape buffalo. "Small hooves?"

"Yes. Much smaller than yours, and in quite a hurry at that. If I might haphazard a guess here, it seems our dear Acting Mayor got here before Francine could call her."

A few seconds later, Mastiff's assessment was proven to be accurate, when a female pig wearing an elegant pants suit came down the stairs, taking the steps two at a time, an impressive feat for the rather small mammal. Despite the fact that Swinton's career as a professional tennis player had ended some twenty years ago, her build was still slim and athletic, and there was a spring in her step which probably was the envy of mammals much younger than her. Her face, however, was all but pleasant to the eye. Not because she was ugly - Bogo had to admit to himself that Tilda Swinton was quite an attractive woman, for a sow -, but because she had schooled her facial features into a rather ugly scowl.

"Chief Bogo!" Her voice was the equivalent of her facial expression, harsh and incisive. "I received a phone call from my son's high school. His homeroom teacher told me he was arrested, but he didn't tell me why. Care to explain?"

Looking down at her, Bogo took a deep breath, bracing himself for the inevitable. Of all the different aspects of his job, talking to the relatives of criminals, most of whom had been completely unaware of the perpetrated crimes, was probably his least favorite part. Yet it had to be done. "Yes, Mrs. Swinton, your son was arrested, because we have reason to believe that he has committed a capital offense."

"Which is?"

"Murder."

"Murder?!" Swinton sounded absolutely flabbergasted. "You cannot possibly be serious, Bogo! My son's no murderer!"

Bogo wanted to reply to that, but Mastiff beat him to it. Without looking at her, and with a strangely strained voice, he said: "Sorry, ma'am, but he is. We caught the crime on camera, and your son even admitted to the murder."

"What?"

Finally, Mastiff looked up, locking eyes with Swinton. "Your son is responsible for the death of a young lynx girl, whether you like it or not."

Bogo felt a peculiar chill creeping up his back. He had known Adimar Mastiff for decades, but he had rarely seen him in a mood like this. Whatever had happened during the interrogation of young Edward Swinton, it had shaken the old wolf to the core, and it showed in his mannerism. The humble, benevolent, funny, nice, old "Uncle Massie," as several of their older colleagues affectionately called him, had taken a step back. The mammal standing in front of Swinton now, it was a mammal Bogo hadn't gotten to see in more than ten years.

Mastiff was seriously angry.

And a seriously angry Mastiff was always a threat, and a huge threat at that.

Bogo just hoped for the sake of Swinton that she was able to see it, too.

"You must be mistaken," Swinton said in a tone of superior disdain.

She obviously wasn't.

"We are not mistaken," Mastiff said. His voice still was supremely calm, the remainder of him was all but calm. Bogo noted with dismay that Mastiff's paws had started shaking at some point. "Seven different officers saw the footage. Your son has been identified with certainty by a civilian, an informant who knows Zootopia and its main citizens like the back of his paw. And like I said before, your son admitted to the crime."

Swinton snorted. "What is this? A smear campaign to paint my name black? Do you …"

That was as far as she got.

With surprising swiftness, given his age, Mastiff grabbed Swinton by both arms, lifting her effortlessly and slamming her against the wall. Swinton gasped, partly because the impact had forced the air out of her lungs, partly because she found herself eye to eye with a wolf.

With a wolf who was almost apoplectic with rage.

"Now listen to me, Swinton, and listen closely." He spoke slowly, as if pressing out each word between his teeth. "Your son is a murderer. He decided to end the existence of another mammal, a young lynx girl who, as far as we know, would never have harmed a fly. He chose to kill her, just because she was a predator, or, as he put it, a 'no-good, stinkin', filthy pred.' She's gone! She's dead! It's over!"

He made a pause, opening his jaws wide, exposing his impressive fangs.

And then he screamed.

"AND ALL YOU CARE ABOUT IS YOUR CAREER?"

Bogo placed his hoof on Mastiff's shoulder, in an attempt to calm his friend down. "Adimar, please, this isn't helping!"

Mastiff ignored him. "I'm really interested in learning whom he got the idea from. Why does your son believe that predators are only good for being killed? He had the audacity to threaten ME, of all mammals! In the presence of other officers who can testify!"

He let go of Swinton, and she fell to the ground, easily managing to break her fall. Staring up at him with a look of utter disbelief, her mouth opened and closed several times, but no words were forthcoming.

"Did you tell him?" Mastiff asked. Bogo noticed with relief that the worst of his anger seemed to have ebbed away. "Did you tell him that predators are no good? Was it you who gave him the idea that killing predators for fun is a great pastime?"

"I … I never …" Swinton was at a visible loss for words.

"You didn't? Then who did? Didn't you care about your son's education and upbringing enough to prevent something like this?"

Bogo looked at Mastiff with a frown. During his long career, he had met thousands of criminals or relatives of criminals, and given the fact that Mastiff had joined the force ten years before Bogo had, his numbers certainly put Bogo's to shame. He had seen Mastiff arrest the most hardened of criminals without slowing down in his stride.

Yes, what the teenagers had done to the lynx girl was despicable, an abomination. Yet, as a crime, it was commonplace, a simple and clear-cut murder case out of base motives. Bogo had seen countless similar cases over the course of the years. It certainly was the same with Mastiff.

Why was he reacting this strongly over such an ordinary murder case?

He couldn't help shake the feeling that there was more to this story than what met the eye.

Swinton looked up at Mastiff, taking a deep breath. "Where is he? May I see him?"

Bogo shook his head. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but that is out of the …"

Mastiff interrupted him rudely. "Certainly, Mrs. Swinton. Please follow me."

Bogo stared at Mastiff. "What did you just say?"

"I said that she is welcome to visit her son any time she wants." He looked up, no, he glared at Bogo, as if daring him to contradict him.

"This is against regulation!"

Mastiff's voice betrayed his fury, but his words were very matter-of-factly: "You can lecture me on regulations all you like, Chief. I'm saying that she needs to see her son, and I honestly don't give a damn if regulations tell me it's not okay, sir." He put extra emphasize on the last word.

Bogo looked up at Swinton. "Would you please excuse us for a second?" Swinton nodded, and Bogo grabbed Mastiff by his arm and pulled him towards a corner in the corridor, not too gently.

Once they were out of earshot, he turned Mastiff towards himself. "Okay, Adimar, you wanna fill me in? What's going on? Why are you behaving like a lunatic?"

Mastiff took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. "Sorry if I've been raining on your parade, but you haven't been in there. You haven't heard that this boy doesn't listen to reason. You haven't heard that he seems to think that murdering another mammal is perfectly fine, as long as the mammal in question is a predator. It's as if he's trapped in his own little world, completely oblivious to the damage he caused. We need to get him out of there, and fast! He needs to tell us what really happened. He needs to give us a lot of names. There are six more murderers on the loose, and we need to catch them, and fast! If they're all as delusional as he is, we have a serious problem on our hooves, paws, whatever. Yes, I know that Higgins believes they're in his class, but we need more than the suspicions of a hippo with bad eyesight. He hasn't cooperated with us at all so far, taking all the blame himself, implying that it was him, and him alone, who killed the girl. We know it isn't true, but we need the names of his accomplices. We can't arrest them otherwise. Every judge would read us the riot act, if we arrest some youngsters because of some suspicions we have."

He said all of this very fast.

Bogo looked down at him with surprise. The fury that Mastiff had shown only seconds earlier had evaporated completely. He looked calm and composed, as usual. Something clicked within him. "Are you trying to tell me that this was just a ruse?"

Mastiff gave him a lopsided grin. "Took you long enough to recognize it as such."

Bogo groaned. "No wonder I've never been able to beat you at poker."

"That's because you're so easy to manipulate, Adrian." Mastiff reached up and gave him a pat on the shoulder. "And we all love you for it."

Bogo allowed himself a small grin. "I seem to be surrounded by tricksters. First Wilde, now you …"

"You'd be well-advised to take a leaf out of Wilde's book every now and then. Being nice and predictable, always following the rules, will only get you so far."

"So it would seem. You think his mother will be able to get though to him?"

"I'm counting on it. He seems to think that his mother, the fact that she's a councilmammal, will protect him from any sort of prosecution. At least that's what I gather from the things he said."

"Just how delusional is this boy?"

"You have no idea."

Bogo nodded. "Very well, we'll do this your way." He held up his hoof.

Mastiff gave him a paw-bump immediately. "Just like old times, AJ."

"Just like old times."

They returned to Swinton. Bogo folded his arms while looking down at her. "Alright, I've had my mind changed for me. Please follow us, Mrs. Swinton." Without further ado, he turned towards the interrogation room and opened the door. Waiting in the doorframe, he allowed both Swinton and Mastiff to enter the room before entering it himself.

The scene which presented itself to him was deceptively innocuous. Innocuous, because a young pig was sitting at the table, obviously playing a game on his smartphone that nobody seemed to have confiscated. Deceptive, because there was no mistaking the righteous fury emanating from the mammal standing guard over him. Brian McHorn looked more than willing to gore him with his massive horn. It seemed like some of the things the young pig had said to the rhino didn't sit too well with the latter.

Bogo looked at McHorn. Best to remove him from the room now. "Officer, would you please leave us for the moment? Please wait outside until I call you again."

"Yes, sir!" McHorn left the room like a mammal on a warpath.

The young pig didn't even lift his gaze from the smartphone. It was obvious that Edward Swinton wasn't the least bit interested in the mammals who had just entered the room. It was only after his mother cleared her throat that he finally looked up. "Mom! Finally! Can you tell these officers that …"

He broke off when looking at her, taking in her posture, her facial expression. His own face fell. "Mom?" In an instant, all the confidence he had displayed vanished completely.

Bogo couldn't blame him. If Swinton had been his mother, he would have peed his pants.

Swinton simply stared at her son without saying anything, without moving a muscle. Her posture radiated fury, disgust, disappointment.

"Mom?" Edward asked again.

"Is it true, Edward?" she finally said with a surprisingly calm voice.

"What?"

"Is it true what these officers tell me? Did you really murder another mammal?" Her tone was still calm, but Bogo noticed a tiny edge creeping into her voice.

Edward shrugged and looked down at his smartphone again. "What if I did?"

Bogo looked down at Swinton, trying to gauge her reaction.

And then she wasn't there anymore.

It all happened in less than two seconds. Three quick steps, the sound of a smartphone disintegrating against a wall, and a sudden yelp of pain.

Edward looked at his mother with a look of incredulity, his own hoof against his cheek. She had obviously delivered a slap to his face so fierce, it had cut his skin. Blood was oozing down his face, dripping onto the collar of his shirt. "Mom!" he exclaimed.

She stood in front of him, arms akimbo, staring at him with a look of utter disdain. "Please tell me this isn't true! Edward, please!"

Edward's short and sparse hair wasn't able to hide his shock; he blanched visibly. Whatever reaction he had expected, this one hadn't been among them.

And then, suddenly, his anger flared. "So what? Karen's just a no-good, filthy …"

Swinton gasped, interrupting him. "Karen? Karen Pardinus?"

"Uh, yeah."

"You are the guy who killed the daughter of Wesley Pardinus?"

Edward folded his arms. "What if I did?"

Swinton turned away, looking down on the ground. A few seconds later, Bogo was surprised to hear her start to snivel. "Why? Why, Edward? Why did you kill her?"

Edward starred at her, obviously flabbergasted. "What do you mean? Wasn't that what you and the other councilmammals used to say in the last few weeks? Predators are dangerous? Predators need to be removed from Zootopia? Well, we removed Karen, and so …"

Swinton whirled around. "YOU REMOVED HER?" she shrieked. "You KILLED her! You are a MURDERER." She made a pause, and all strength seemed to leave her. "I am the mother of a murderer!"

"Hey, it was just a filthy predator!"

Without another word, Swinton walked towards the door.

"Hey, Mom," Edward shouted. "Don't leave me hanging here! Get me …"

She whirled around, eyeing her son with a look of contempt on her face. "Do you really think I can fix this?"

Edward flinched. "But …"

"And even if I could, do you really think I would want to fix this?"

"But … I'm your son!"

Swinton turned around again. "I have no son. Not anymore." She left the room, leaving her son, and both policemammals, absolutely stunned.

"You stay here," Bogo said to Mastiff.

"Gladly," Mastiff countered and walked over to the table.

Leaving the interrogation room, Bogo found Swinton sitting on the floor, slumped against a wall. Tears were running down her face, ruining her make-up. McHorn was standing next to her, and it was obvious that he had no idea how to deal with the situation. Following a quick gesture by Bogo, he returned into the interrogation room while Bogo knelt down beside Swinton. "Are you okay?" he asked gently.

"No. And I never will be again." Her voice sounded just as miserable as her countenance suggested. "It's my fault, and mine alone!"

"It was his decision."

"You don't understand. Deep down inside, I knew Bellwether was a lunatic, but I supported her. Still did, even after you arrested her." She looked at the door behind which her son was sitting. "He obviously thought he'd help me. He killed my own goddaughter to help me."

Bogo inhaled sharply. "Your goddaughter?"

She nodded. "Wesley was one of my mixed double partners, back in the days. We won several tournaments together. He named me his daughter's godmother." She shook her head. "My own son took the life of the daughter of one of my oldest friends."

"You played together with a predator?"

"I did, several in fact. I never had a problem with predators. But Bellwether told everyone that predators were a threat, and for a while, I believed her, going against my own convictions."

"You weren't the only one she hoodwinked. She had played me for a sucker, too."

"It's my own fault. It's my fault that Karen's dead."

"You didn't kill her."

"I might as well." Swinton placed her head against the wall. "He grew up so quickly! I was always away from home, even after the end of my career, playing senior tournaments, touring for sponsors, doing charity work. I was never there. Whenever I came back home, he had always grown by so much." She sighed. "And then I ran for office. I was walking from door to door, trying to get the votes, trying to become a councilmammal. Again, I was never home. And now my son's almost a grown-up, and I don't recognize him anymore."

She got up with surprising swiftness, lunging into her purse to produce a cell phone. Punching a button, she waited for a few seconds before saying: "Sammy, it's me, Tilda. Listen, my son was arrested. Could you please come to Precinct One at once? You need to defend him." She waited for a reply. "The charges? He's a murderer." Another pause. "Yes, a murderer. He killed a young lynx girl, and he obviously did it in cold blood." Yet another pause. "I don't care. The case seems to be waterproof, and as far as I'm concerned, Edward can rot in prison. What he has done, it's unforgivable." She listened again. "That goes without saying. Just do your job. Thanks. I owe you one." She ended the call. "My lawyer's on his way here. I trust you to do what's necessary, Chief."

Bogo nodded gravely. "I will."

Swinton closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. "What, exactly, has happened? I'm going to meet Wesley in two days, at Karen's funeral. I need to go there, I can't go into hiding. I need to know what happened."

"You knew about her death?"

"Of course! Wesley told me himself, seeing that I am - was - her godmother. I just didn't know that she had died because my own flesh and blood had decided to end her existence. And Wesley doesn't know either. I guess I need to tell him personally, before he learns it by reading tomorrow's newspaper." She shuddered. "I have no idea what to tell him."

Boge gave her a quick summary of the contents of the surveillance footage. "From the looks of it, it seems that your son was the ringleader of the little gang. He was the first to strike. He was the one with the pliers. The other mammals involved looked like they were acting under his command."

Swinton nodded, closing her eyes again. "Very astute observation, Chief. Those would be the Black Seven, I presume."

"The Black Seven?"

Swinton shrugged. "A bunch of kids Edward met in Elementary School. They've been together ever since. In most cases, they're so close, you can't separate them with a stick. At one point, they started referring to themselves only as the Black Seven, and somehow the name stuck. I know each and every one of them personally. They've been over at our house countless times. I'm on friendly terms with all their parents."

"Could you give us their names?"

"Certainly." She took her cell phone out of her purse again. "I'm going to send you a SMS containing the names, okay? What's your phone number?"

Bogo told her his cell phone number while she was typing on her phone with frantic speed. Little more than one minute later, he received the promised SMS. Bogo read the names and nodded. "Thank you for your assistance, Mrs. Swinton."

She shrugged while turning towards the staircase. "Least I could do."

"What are you going to do now?"

Swinton stopped and looked over her shoulder. "What do you think?" With that, she climbed the stairs.

Bogo looked down at the list of names again. None of the names did ring a bell, but that wasn't saying much. It was some sort of relief for him that none of the mammals seemed to be connected to any other councilmammals.

The City Council's shape already was bad enough as it was.

The door behind Bogo opened, and he turned around to see Mastiff emerge, a look of grim satisfaction on his features. "Did he talk?" Bogo asked.

"We have the names," Mastiff said.

Bogo held up his phone, presenting the list to him. "Are these the ones he's given?"

Mastiff squinted his one remaining eye while looking at the phone. "Did she tell you?"

Bogo nodded. "He formed a small gang years ago. Swinton called them the Black Seven. Sounds like the typical bunch of rambunctious kids ganging up to molest the weak and the feeble. She knows all of them since they went to Elementary School together."

Mastiff looked over his shoulder at the door. "Quite the reaction she showed in there."

Bogo sighed. "How would you react if your own son told you he killed the child of one of your best friends?"

Mastiff's head whipped around again. "Say again!"

"Wesley Pardinus, Karen's father, was one of her tennis partners years ago. Swinton was Karen's godmother."

"Sweet mother of mercy!"


Austin J. Robin Plaza, In Front of City Hall, City Center, Zootopia

Tensions between prey and predators may have vanished almost completely, but the wounds caused by the civil unrest would still take months, if not years, to fully heal. Zootopia was still in wild disarray. This was not helped by the fact that for the last three days, the City Council had seemed to be unable to come to any decision which could help restore order within the metropolis. The only decision the councilmammals had made had been the outright refusal to rescind any new laws set in motion by Bellwether which had done nothing but oppress predators. Needless to say, this only decision hadn't sat too well with the predators living in Zootopia. And now that another one of the councilmammals, the Acting Mayor even, had been revealed as having been in cahoots with Bellwether and responsible for atrocious attacks on predators, the complete chaos around the City Council was obvious to everyone in Zootopia, prey and predator alike. And most mammals hated the City Council for this, prey and predator alike.

Three arrested Mayors. Three more councilmammals under close investigation by the ZPD.

It was easy to come to the conclusion that the City Council was in an even worse shape than the city itself.

And in no place this could have been more evident than on the plaza in front of City Hall.

The place was filled completely to capacity. Thousands of mammals were standing around, sitting on the floor or in folding chairs they had brought for the occasion. Nick Wilde spotted a few prey mammals, but the vast majority consisted of predators. And every species living in Zootopia seemed to be present. Nick saw countless felines, countless wolves, countless smaller predators, but he also saw an eclectic assortment of elephants, rhinos, hippos, buffaloes, rabbits, antelopes, mice, gerbils, squirrels …

Never before had Zootopia seen such a display of unity across the species.

Because all these mammals wanted was peace.

"All we are saying is give peace a chance!"

Nick had no idea who had started singing the song, but it had spread, and now most mammals around him were joining in, singing the verse over and over again.

And indeed, peace seemed to be all around him.

For the first time in years, Nick felt completely safe. Nobody, neither prey nor predator, had looked at him in the usual, dismissive way, disregarding him as a sneaky, untrustworthy mammal. To the contrary - he had been hugged by complete strangers, some had offered him tea from a thermos, and when one rather enthusiastic ocelot indentified him as the guy responsible for solving the Savage Predators case, the mammals in his vicinity felt obliged to thank him in person. Probably for the first time in his entire life, Nick felt respected, even liked.

I could get used to this, he thought.

Strangely, however, the feeling of peace and quiet around him wasn't really reaching him. As a matter of fact, he had rarely felt less at peace with himself and the world as he did at that precise moment.

In almost all other situations, the con-mammal he was would have been able to hide his discomfort from the world with ease. There was, however, one mammal he would never have been able to fool.

"What's eating at ya, whelp?" Finnick asked.

Nick looked down at Finnick and sighed. There were a lot of things bothering him right now, and most of them revolved around the tiny fennec fox.

Without Finnick, Nick would never have survived.

With unbelievable naivety, Nick had left his home, left his mother, fully convinced that with his blossoming hustling skills, becoming a most successful hustler would be piece of cake.

Only to find out, in the hardest way imaginable, that surviving as a hustler on the streets of Zootopia was a whole different ball game. His scams at school, cheating young mammals, gullible kits and cubs, that was child's play, literally. However, his rather simple attempts at hustling, while highly effective against children, completely failed to deliver against adults.

After four weeks of numerous attempts at hustling, with his earnings dwindling fast, he was facing the very possible prospect of dying from starvation.

Which was when Finnick found him by accident, hungry beyond belief, soaking wet from constant rain, freezing, utterly miserable. He took him in, gave him shelter, a bed, crust of bread and a job of sorts. They'd been together ever since, they'd worked together ever since, and they'd become as close as brothers.

Nick closed his eyes and sighed. The moment he deprived himself of any visual input, the images he'd seen when watching the video footage of the attack on the lynx occupied his thoughts completely. "Just this morning, I've seen something I'd rather forget, Fin."

He opened his eyes and looked down at his diminutive partner. Contrary to his usual approach to things, Finnick was clad in casual clothing, not his usual romper suit they used when hustling mammals. Not that he hadn't wanted to exploit the incredible daftness of most mammals around him - it was just that he had known with certainty that Nick wouldn't want to be involved in stuff like that right now.

There was a certain rift between the two friends, a rift that nothing would be able to fix.

Finnick was a hustler and would, in all probability, always be.

Nick was on his way to become a fine upstanding citizen. He had applied for the ZPA, and although he still had his doubts about a possible admission, he might even become a cop.

They might at one point even become enemies.

How do you fix stuff like that?

Finnick gave a small chuckle. "The mighty Nick Wilde, shaking by something he's seen? Musta been a hell of a picture."

Nick shook his head. "Not a picture, video footage. Footage showing a band of teenage prey mammals clubbing a young lynx to death."

Finnick's smile vanished in an instant. "What?"

"You heard me. An unprovoked attack, just like the one those idiots from Aries Security performed on the two of us."

Finnick was visibly aghast. "Teenagers?"

"Yup. They pummeled the poor girl with baseball bats, and when she was barely even recognizable as a mammal, one of the culprits proceeded to pull her teeth and claws out while she was still conscious." Nick sighed again. "She died yesterday. And given the fact that she was maimed beyond all recognition, that might even be a blessing."

Finnick opened and closed his mouth without saying anything. Finally, after almost one minute of silence, he asked: "Does the fuzz know who did it?" There was a distinct growl in his voice, a growl betraying his enormous fury.

"They do, at least they know one of them."

"Who is it?" Finnick's paw opened and closed, seemingly on its own account. He was probably longing for his baseball bat.

Nick raised an eyebrow. "What? You want to invoke mob law?"

"The thought had crossed ma mind," Finnick hissed.

Nick forced his features into a smile. "Relax, Finnick. Let the cops do their jobs."

Finnick gave a snort. "Ah, I forgot you're all chummy with the fuzz now."

Nick looked down at his friend, not knowing what to say.

"It's true, what the bunny said? You goin' to the police academy?" Finnick asked.

"Well, yes, I have applied, but as far as the question of going there is concerned …"

Finnick liked at him with a frown. "What d'ya mean?"

"I mean the cops know my past as a hustler. Their chief showed me a file this big," Nick indicated a sizable gap with two digits, "containing a rather thorough account of most of my accomplishments."

"So what? They could pardon you."

"They certainly could, and the guys at the academy themselves won't cause much of a problem. The problem is, every police officer is appointed by the City Council, and do you really think out current administration is likely to grant pardon to a hustler, a fox even? I seriously doubt it."

"Come on! You're a fuckin' hero, you're everybody's darlin'!"

"Some might disagree, and you know …"

Suddenly he heard someone call out his name. A female voice.

Finnick had heard it, too - his head was turning in all directions. "Uh oh!"

Nick had spotted a rather peculiar-looking mammal, a few yards to his left. It probably was the tallest rabbit he'd ever seen. The buck's fur was a light brown, with no particular distinguishing features, apart from his height. He looked not even remotely related to the only other bunny he knew.

But it was the very same other rabbit that he was pushing around in a wheelchair.

"Nick!" Judy Hopps beamed at the fox. She was sitting in a comically large wheelchair, her bandaged leg prone on the adjustable paw rest.

Nick gave her a grin. "Carrots! How nice of you to stop by!"

"And Finnick, too! Hello!"

Finnick looked at her as if he'd seen a ghost. "Hello, Officer Toot-Toot." He looked up at Nick. "Nicky, I gotta go. See ya!" Without any further comment, the fennec fox turned around and vanished in the crowd.

Nick looked after his friend with a frown. It was quite normal for Finnick to prefer being on his own over mixing with other mammals, but this was taking things to the extreme. It was quite obvious that he didn't like Judy all that much - probably because she was a cop. Probably because she was the cop who'd convinced Nick to apply for the ZPA.

It suddenly occurred to Nick that this might very well have been the last time he'd seen his old friend.

Especially if, by some freak turn of events, he would really end up being a cop.

Turning around again, Nick saw Judy look up at the buck pushing her around. "Billy, this is Nick Wilde, the fox who helped me solve those cases."

The buck grinned. "You don't say." He offered his paw for Nick to shake. "William Hopps, although everybody calls me Billy. Judy's one of my countless sisters."

Nick returned the pawshake, trying his hardest not to wince. His paw felt like it had accidentally caught in a door. "Ah. I hope you don't hold it against me, but I would never have guessed that you're related."

Billy shrugged. "I'm taking after our father, she," he pointed down at Judy, "takes after our mother."

Nick had to look up at the buck. He was easily four inches taller than him and of sturdy build. "Your father must be quite tall, I presume."

Billy chuckled. "He's about as tall as Judy."

"Really?"

Billy gave him a smirk. "Yup. It's me who's the freak of nature."

"Come on!" Judy said. "You're not a freak!"

"No, but most mammals look at me like I am."

"You wanna talk about this?" Nick asked.

Billy shrugged. "You know, I don't mind being asked about my height. Beats being looked at like I am a freak of nature. How good's your knowledge of biology?"

"Pretty lackluster, I'd say."

"Okay. You know there's a certain growth hormone which governs how tall and big a mammal becomes when growing up." Nick nodded. "This hormone, called somatotropin, is produced by the pituitary gland. When a mammal reaches the height predetermined in his or her genes, when the growth plates have all closed, the pituitary gland stops producing somatotropin. With me so far?"

"Of course."

"Now, this works just fine in most mammals. However, there is a kind of tumor which, in some rare cases, develops in the pituitary gland. It prevents the gland from stopping to put out somatotropin, so the body is flooded with it well past the point where it's good for the body. Bottom line is, if you have the tumor, you simply don't stop growing. In all directions, mind. You become taller, you become wider." He smiled, showing his buck teeth. There was a small, but noticeable gap between both teeth. "The jaw, for example, gets wider and wider, so at one point you develop huge gaps between the teeth."

"That sounds … awful."

Billy shrugged. "It is, when untreated. If you don't treat this in any way, shape, or form, it will eventually kill you. Treatment, however, is fairly simple. You remove the tumor through surgery, and that's it. In my case, the tumor was removed when I was 17, seven years ago. Haven't grown one inch since then, but," he spread his arms, "as you can see, the damage's already been done."

Now that Nick knew what to look for, the signs of abnormal growth were instantly recognizable. Billy's paws were enormous, his chin was much wider than usual, and his whole body just seemed to be impossibly big - for a rabbit, that is. "Interesting. Never heard of stuff like that."

"That's the problem. Most mammals have no idea about interesting stuff like that."

Judy rolled her eyes. "It may be interesting to you. To me, it's boring."

"Yes, Ms.-I-know-every-law-in-the-book."

Nick had to grin at that. Seemed like Billy had a very special relationship with Judy. "She does?"

Billy gave a groan. "You have no idea."

"Har har," Judy said. "Better than knowing the Pschyrambel inside and out."

"Excuse me, the what?" Nick asked.

"The Pschyrambel. It's a clinical dictionary, named after its first editor, Willibald Pschyrambel."

"Never heard of it either. You're a doctor?" Nick asked Billy.

"No, and I'm not interested in becoming one. My field of work is biochemistry."

"And if you don't stop talking to him about this right now," Judy said, "he's going to chew your ears off."

Billy stuck out his tongue. "You're such a wet blanket, Jude!" Looking at Nick, he added: "Are you interested in biochemistry?"

"Not that I'm aware of."

"What a pity." Billy made a pause. "So, you're gonna join Judy at the ZPD?"

Nick shrugged. "That's the plan, yes, but there still are several obstacles in my way."

"Such as?"

Nick pointed at City Hall. "Unless the City Council or someone of equal importance grants me a pardon, I doubt I'll make it into the police academy."

Billy made a frown. "A pardon? For what?"

"Well, let me put it this way: Until I met your sister, I was all but a law-abiding citizen."

"Oh. How comes?"

Nick shrugged again. "Try and make a living when every mammal you meet treats you like a sly, slithering, untrustworthy piece of trash."

"That bad?"

"Worse. Judy actually was the first mammal in about two decades who believed in me."

Billy grinned, looking down at his sister. "Yeah, that's our Judy! Always seeing the best in a mammal." His voice was oozing sarcasm.

Nick raised an eyebrow. This would have been high praise if said with a little less sarcasm. Because of that sarcasm, however, little more than a veiled insult remained, targeting Judy's obvious gullibility.

Before he was able to comment on his comment, however, the indistinct murmur around them grew in volume. Judy's head whipped around. "What's going on?"

"No idea." Nick looked around, but they were surrounded by mammals who were much taller than him.

Fortunately, that wasn't much of a problem. A tall tiger standing in their vicinity shouted, obviously for the benefit of all those smaller than him: "Someone just left City Hall and is walking towards the dais. Looks like a pig to me."

"Councilmammal Swinton, perhaps?" Nick asked loudly.

"Could be," a giraffe piped in.

Nick closed his eyes. "Great! Just great!"

"What's wrong?" Judy asked.

Nick heaved a sigh. "Let's just say I have a pretty good idea what she's about to talk about, and it ain't pretty."

"What do you mean?"

Before Nick was able to answer, a loud female voice was heard over the din. "Citizens of Zootopia, may I have your attention, please?"

"Yep, it's Swinton," the giraffe said, perhaps unnecessarily.

"I am Matilda Swinton, and after the arrest of Robert Aries for ordering savage attacks on innocent predators, the burden of being the Acting Mayor came to rest on my shoulders."

This created quite a bit of noise from the assembled mammals, but Swinton continued regardless. "You'll probably expect me to be here on behalf of the City Council, as your Acting Mayor, to tell you about the current proceedings and discussions within the Council, but that's not why I'm here."

"Not?" Judy sounded surprised, and given the many commentaries Nick heard, she wasn't the only surprised mammal around.

"Many of you," Swinton said, "came here in protest over some crime committed by prey mammals against predators, demanding justice, demanding that things should happen that would make life in Zootopia enjoyable again, for both predators and prey. It is an issue the City Council has hardly dealt with in the past, and it shows. As a matter of fact, I experienced it myself, personally."

She made a pause. "Back when I was a professional tennis player, one of my mixed double partners was a lynx named Wesley Pardinus. We were a hugely successful team, winning the Nagerian Open twice, among several other tournaments. Sadly, a nagging shoulder injury put a premature end to his career. He left the tennis circuit, became a bookseller, and started a family. And despite this, we still kept in touch. He was one of my best friends, so the question of him being a predator and me being prey never even occurred to us. He even honored me by asking me to be the godmother to his second child, a daughter named Karen."

Someone had trained a camera on her, and her face appeared on the huge view screens situated to both sides of the dais. Nick was surprised to see that her appearance, usually immaculate, was less than perfect. Their even appeared to be black streaks on her face. It looked like she had cried a little while ago, and hadn't bothered refreshing her make-up afterwards. Her eyes were downcast, her face that of someone who was in intense pain.

"A few weeks ago, Wesley's daughter, my goddaughter, fell victim to a savage attack. She was beaten within an inch of death by a group of mammals. Yesterday she succumbed to her countless injuries. Just because seven mammals decided that it was fun to end her life by clubbing her to death."

Shouts of shock and rage were heard all around Nick, who closed his eyes, sighing. The lynx killed by her son, she had been Swinton's goddaughter?

Just what had Zootopia degenerated into?

Swinton continued: "Karen Pardinus died because seven PREY mammals decided to end her existence!"

The cries of shock became louder.

Swinton looked around. "I know what you're thinking right now. You think that this has gone on long enough, you think that the perpetrators should be brought to justice, you think that predators should, once again, be allowed to live in peace and safety, something that hasn't been granted to them over the course of the last few months." Her voice sounded like it was about to crack. She cleared her throat. "I want you to know that I agree with you, and wholeheartedly at that. It is time for Zootopia to, once again, become the place where anyone can be anything, regardless of species, age, gender, and convictions." She heaved a sigh. "Sadly, that is no longer my call to make."

"What's that supposed to mean?" the giraffe asked.

"I came here to tell you that, a few minutes ago, I handed in my resignation. As of right now, I'm not the Acting Mayor of Zootopia anymore. I'm not even a councilmammal anymore. I have stepped down, and I have asked Councilmammal Cameron Caballus to take over as Acting Mayor."

She took a deep breath. "The reason for this is that one of the thugs that beat Karen Pardinus to death has been arrested a few hours ago, and as it turns out, it happens to be my youngest son, Edward Franklin Swinton."

She looked up, directly into the camera, completely ignoring the shouts and cries from the throng. "Yes, Wesley, it was my very own son who killed your daughter. A son whom I may have brought into the world, but whom I completely failed to educate. I never taught him how to behave, I never taught him how not to behave. Because when he grew up, I was never at home.

"I let others watch over him. I trusted others to educate him, and I felt justified in doing so, simply because I was so busy. I merely watched him grow up. I watched him, I listened to him, but I never really took in what was happening to him. I merely stepped aside and watched him grow up, as the years passed me by.

"Now he's almost an adult, and he's turned into a monster.

"And it's my fault, and mine alone."

She looked down. "It's my fault Karen Pardinus had to die. It's my fault that one of my very best friends was robbed off his daughter. It's my fault that my son will spend the foreseeable future in prison. All of this is my fault, because I failed to do what I was supposed to do.

"I failed my son. I failed my friend Wesley. I failed his daughter Karen. I failed each and every one of you.

"Because I stepped aside and let Dawn Bellwether establish a reign of terror. I even supported her by voting for each and every of her submissions that did little but harm predators.

"I'm no longer in any position to make decisions for you. Because I have proven that I'm not to be trusted with power. The power I was given by you had made me selfish, had made me forget what I was supposed to do. My inaction meant that predators had to suffer. I made my friends suffer. I made each and every one of you suffer. I caused a young lynx, who still had her whole life ahead of her, to die. This is my burden, my cross to bear.

"I have proven that I have never been worthy of being your elected councilmammal, which is why I step down now, to make place for mammals who are more suited for the job.

"But there is one last thing I'm going to do now, before I leave you and the City Council behind. I strongly urge all councilmammals to do what needs to be done! Revert Bellwether's decisions! Prove to the world that you are willing to step up and end the atrocities perpetrated against predators! Do what I failed to do! Do not repeat my mistakes!

"Then, and only then, will Zootopia be the place where prey and predators can live together in peace and harmony! Only then will Zootopia be the place where anyone can be anything!

"Thank you for your attention!"

Swinton stepped down from the dais, not looking at anyone, her shoulders sagged.

Judy looked up at Nick. "You knew about this, didn't you?"

Nick made a face. "I knew it was her son who killed the lynx girl. It was me who identified him on the footage."

Judy shook her head. "Her own goddaughter! Killed by her own son. I wouldn't want to be in her shoes now."

"And now what?" Billy Hopps asked.

"That," Nick said slowly, "is a very good question."


A question the next chapter will answer …

The "Ayrton Hyenna" quote was, of course, uttered by the late, great Ayrton Senna.

And yes, Tilda Swinton's career as a professional tennis player is a nutty bow towards "Fräulein Forehand," Steffi Graf, one of the most successful tennis players in history and, to date, the only person to achieve the "Golden Slam." In 1988, she not only managed to win all four Grand Slam Tournaments - the Australian Open, the French Open, Wimbledon, and the U.S. Open -, she also emerged victoriously at the Olympic Games in Seoul in the very same year. And I guess I probably don't do her much justice by heaping her accolades on a pig … ;-) (And no, I'm not a particular fan of hers. As a matter of fact, Mastiff's opinion on idols is mine. I've met quite a lot of important people and celebrities over the years, politicians mostly, and I couldn't help noticing that if I had children, I wouldn't want them to worship those celebrities as their role models. Some intelligent guy once said that great men have no idols, because they know too many people personally whom other people consider their idols. Sage words indeed!)

The Austin J. Tobin Plaza, that's the real name, (also known as the WTC Plaza) was the name of the outdoor plaza at the World Trade Center, New York City. It was named after the former Director of the Port of New York Authority who oversaw the development of the World Trade Center. Thought the name was fitting for such an important plaza.

"Give Peace a Chance" was, of course, written by John Lennon (although credited to both Lennon and Paul McCartney) and performed by the Plastic Ono Band, Apple Records, 1969. This song is almost a cliché in itself, yet it fits the given situation like a glove.

When I created Billy Hopps, I always wanted him to stand out, both in character as well as in outward appearance, so it had always been clear to me that he had to be exceptionally tall. I had one particular picture in mind, a picture you can find in the book "Disney Zootopia: The Essential Guide." (Yes, I own that book, or rather, my wife does. She's particularly partial to bunnies, so a book full of pictures of cute little bunnies sure is something she cherishes enormously. By the way, the picture can also be found on the "Zootopia Wiki" homepage, on the "Hopps Family" entry. ) It shows a rather small part of the Hopps family. Now, I couldn't help noticing that there are two bucks in the picture who're basically towering over the rest. While it is quite common for children to be taller than their parents (I'm easily four inches taller than my father, I was five inches taller than my mother), I tend to think they are a bit too tall. Those two bucks are easily eight to ten inches taller than everyone else. Which is quite a bit much when talking about taller children.

But then I remembered one of my fellow students in school. His parents both stood in at less than six feet, but at age 14, he was reaching 6'9" and change. Nobody knew why, until they found the tumor. He had surgery, and his permanent growth came to an end. Which is fortunate, because acromegaly, this is how the condition of having said tumor is called, is very serious, responsible not only for most of the tallest men in history (those you can find mentioned in the Guinness Book of Records), but also for their early demises. Treatment through hormone therapy or removal through surgery are the only options to allow those suffering from acromegaly to survive. Nasty stuff, this.

The "Pschyrembel," that's the correct name, is indeed a clinical dictionary, created by Willibald Pschyrembel, and quite famous in Germany. When I was working at a home for the aged, someone urged me to buy one, and I did. And while I admit not understanding most of what's written in the book, it has given me quite a lot of insight into medical terms and health issues.

Today's tasks: Find the character from the Disney movie "Tarzan." Shouldn't be too difficult …

There also are two small quotes in here. One is from the computer game: Starcraft II - Wings of Liberty. In case you have difficulties finding it, it was uttered by Tychus Findlay.

The second one is taken from one of the songs of the 1986 movie "Little Shop of Horrors." It's slightly altered, but finding it shouldn't be too difficult. But if finding it gives you trouble, it's in one of the songs sung by Seymour Krelborn (played by Rick Moranis).

And that's it for today! Again, sorry for the huge delay in posting this. Please don't hold it against me!

Thanks for reading, and please, send me your reviews!

Take care!

J.O. aka TheCatweazle