A dejected Judy emerged from the rental shop to find her Pop-Pop and mother sitting on a bench. Pop-Pop was still silently fuming after the incident outside Pride City, while Bonnie was busying herself taking pictures of everything in sight with her vintage camera. "Mom, what are you doing?"

"Taking pictures, dear." Bonnie replied, smirking at her daughter asking her about the blatantly obvious. "I heard that Windaland was a popular tourist destination for artists, but I never expected this place to be so... strange looking." Indeed, the city of Windaland was Zootopia's diverse architecture turned up to eleven. No two buildings were the same size or shape, and Judy was sure that if she pulled out an IKEA color booklet, she would find five pages worth of shades in this street alone. Even the graffiti on the side of the store was pretty to look at.

"You should see the golf course." Judy replied. "It looks like we're officially screwed, mom."

Bonnie lowered her camera. "What do you mean?"

"They're all out." Judy said. "There's a big festival south of this city, so the tourists rented every car in the store. The manager said that if we want to continue south, we'll have to take a bus to the next city."

"We've got money. That shouldn't be a problem."

"I'm pretty sure the world is out to stop us from getting that money at this point, because there's a catch." Judy sat between her mother and grandfather and rubbed the back of her neck. "The bus stops that have buses that go to Crabapple Valley are all located on the other side of the golf course."

Bonnie's face fell. The golf course took up fifty percent of the city's land area. "I see."

"We'll have to take a bus to go all the way around the course, and that could take half an hour at least." Judy said. She hung her head. "At this rate, we're never going to make it to Bunnyburrow in time."

Bonnie gave her daughter's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Why not just go through the course itself?"

Judy's ears pricked. "The course?"

Bonnie handed her a brightly colored leaflet. "I found this while you were in the shop. According to this leaflet, the golf course has several side business and facilities. The original croquet grounds, an outdoors gym, a swimming pool..."

"Get to the point, woman!" Pop-Pop said irritably.

"You see, Judy, the golf course itself is full of sculptures, exotic trees and other minor tourist attractions. If you don't want to golf, you can still hire a golf cart and take yourself on a tour of the grounds. The only rules are that you stick to the path and you don't disturb the golfers. We could just buy tickets for a one way trip and drive to the center on the other side. There should also be a payphone there so we can try to call Gideon."

Judy brightened at this news. "Mom, you're a genius."

The cheetah kid hadn't spoken to Finnick since the incident. He just stared straight ahead as he drove, a semi-permanent scowl on his face.

When Finnick by his own admittance freaked the hell out at Spider Bogo escaping, Benjamin had managed to wrest Lucille from the fox's grip before safely retrieving the spider from the backrest of the seat. With the donut box crushed beyond use, Spider Bogo was now being stored in the glove box, with the door very slightly open and held in place with duct tape so he'd have air. This was Finnick's punishment for his carelessness. He had to stay in his seat with the glove box right in front of him, watching the spider occasionally poke a leg or two out the crack, in constant fear that the duct tape would come away and release the eight-legged terror once more. Lucille had been confiscated. It was locked in the trunk and only Ben had the keys. As a final penalty, Finnick would pay for the new container they would have to get once they reached Crabapple Valley.

Finnick wasn't bothered about the twenty bucks he would have to give up. He had bigger problems to worry about, more specifically how he was going to give Ben the slip.

He'd known something about the car was off when he saw the radio, and his suspicions had grown when he'd heard Ben mention a 'Bogo'. Bogo, as in Chief Bogo of Precinct One, Nick's new boss. It wasn't until he'd caught a glimpse of a badge in the glove box when they were putting the tarantula inside that Finnick's suspicions were confirmed; this kid was a cop.

Luckily for Finnick, he was just as sly as his old partner in crime. And Finnick had a plan.

In Crabapple Valley was a bug shop that would have the kind of container they needed for such a big spider, and that shop was right across the street from a bar frequented by some old friends of Finnick's. He'd already sent them a text when Ben wasn't looking. When he and Ben reached the shop, his buddies would make a scene in the street. As a cop, Ben would be obliged to intervene. During the domestic disturbance, Finnick would slip away and find another means of getting to Bunnyburrow. If the Ferrari weren't so big, he'd have also planned to pickpocket the keys.

Finnick felt his phone vibrate, and read the text. The buddy who sent it, Old Greg, had agreed in exchange for ten percent of the money if Finnick reached it first. Finnick texted back his acceptance of the deal, sat back in his massive seat, and waited for the plan to come together.

A grey hairy leg protruded from the glove box and poked at the duct tape.

Raymond and Kevin searched the three bedrooms. They searched the kitchen, the bathroom and the storage room, but unbelievably they didn't find the manual for the yacht's unique system. In the end, the last place they could look were the two holds in the stern, the normal one and the secret one for not-so-legal cargo. Fortunately Philippe had told them where the entrance was before they set off and they quickly found it, disguised as a bland metal panel at the back of the normal hold.

"Okay, where's that microphone?" Raymond started to dig around in his pockets.

"There's a microphone hidden in the door." Kevin said. "Philippe said."

Raymond stepped up to the panel. "Door, open."

Nothing happened.

"Open, door."

Still nothing. Raymond growled.

"Panel, open!"

This was getting old.

"Open, you useless, frickin'..."

"Open Sesame." Kevin said. There was a beep and the panel opened. Raymond stared at his companion. "I finally remembered the film. Burrow Alone 4. That and 3 were C movies compared to the first two."

"... I'll go in and look for the manual. You look out here. Also, 3 was just as good as 1 and 2."

Kevin bristled, just like he did when they argued over which adaptation, Black Beauty and the Beast and Beauty and the Wilderbeast, was the best one. "Uh, no. 3 was the pits!"

"The pits in 3 were genius. All the traps were!"

"3 is the foundation on which all badness is measured!"

"The hell it is, hairball!"

"Oh really? What makes you so sure?"

"I'll say four words for you: Fifty. Shades. Of. Prey!"

"... Okay, you're right about that, but you're wrong about Burrow Alone!"

"We'll discuss this later! Now get moving!"

As Raymond climbed through the secret entrance, he finally remembered. He'd left the little black device in the bridge.

Melvin the stoat leaned on the battered old bench, watching and waiting for his battered coffee machine to finish preparing the precious brew. As the dark liquid slowly filled the glass jug, it occurred to him that there was a teensy bit of information that he and Philippe had not told the two polar bears; the special black devices could not be used inside the hold. The door could still be locked on command, but if the user were inside when they did so then they would be trapped.

Melvin pulled out the jug and filled his cracked, handmade mug, thinking nothing more of it. Raymond and Kevin had no reason to go into the hold, unless for some reason they needed the spare manual kept in a small safe in the secret hold, and certainly no reason to lock to door from the inside. So what were the odds of that happening?

Bucky and Pronk saw that the bridge was empty once they were onboard the yacht. That meant either the tracksuit bears weren't on board or they had gone below deck. Both Oryx-Antlersons guessed the latter.

This put a minor dint in their plan. If Bucky and Pronk went down to find a place to stow away, there was a high chance they would run into the bears. Unless they had a distraction.

Bucky and Pronk ducked behind a couch in the lounge area behind the bridge and quietly bickered over their next course of action until Bucky got an idea. "There must be hundreds of switches in the bridge. Maybe we could set off an alarm or something."

"Won't the bears think something's up?" Pronk asked.

Bucky rubbed his chin. "Do you have any cigs?"

"Neither of us smoke, you moron."

"A big ship like this must have a fire alarm. The bear with the plaster on his big nose looks like he smokes. Maybe we can trick them into thinking they set off the alarm by accident."

"And if we don't?" Pronk didn't want to risk adding that this was a stupid idea without provoking a massive, attention drawing fight.

"Then we'll just have to find the best hiding spot on the boat, won't we? Come on, let's go."

They snuck through the open door and entered the bridge. They saw the many different buttons and displays around the steering wheel. At least it seemed like dozens. Neither of them were experts on yachts, so they had no idea what did what. Surely one of them set off an alarm.

While Bucky approached the steering wheel, Pronk noticed a strange black stick on the control board. Thinking it to be some kind of switch, Pronk pulled it to see what it would do and found it to be a separate small object. It looked like a pencil-shaped microphone. Near the speaker bit was a tiny switch set to 'on'.

Bucky drummed his fingers on the control board, drawing Pronk's attention with the annoying sound. "Would it kill them to put signs on these switches?"

Pronk rolled the strange device in his hooves. "Maybe not enough space. Maybe there's a manual underneath?"

There was a small shelf compartment beneath the control board. Bucky soon found the manual. It was as thick as a fat sardine. Bucky opened it at a random page. His eyebrows knitted together. "What the heck is this?" Pronk asked what he was talking about. "There's this weird list of commands. Listen to this: Weigh, anchor."

They heard a steady clinking sound coming from the direction of the anchor they had just climbed. When it stopped, they turned back to the book.

"That list's in alphabetical order. Go find the start and see what it's for." Pronk said.

Bucky flipped back a few pages until he reached the 'A's. "They're commands to give to the key, whatever the heck that is."

"What other commands are there?" Pronk asked, his eyes turning down to the device in his eyes.

Bucky took a few seconds to pick one out. "Bridge lights, on." All the lights in the bridge turned on, barely visible in the daylight.

Pronk grinned. "Cool."

Bucky picked out more commands, just as intrigued. "Air conditioning, on." In seconds there was a gentle draught. "All doors, lock."

Click.

Kevin's heart dropped to his stomach and he whirled towards the hold's door, just as Raymond shouted and rushed out the secret hold.

"Kevin, I found it!" He had the manual in his large paws. "We were saying it wrong after all! The right command is 'Weigh, anchor!'"

Kevin pointed to the door. "Ra-Raymond..."

"What?"

Before Kevin could stammer out what had just happened, they heard the hum of the engine being restarted. Before it could fully sink in that their yacht had been hijacked, the entire vessel started forward with a jolt and sent them face-planting into a crate of fish.

The phone rang with Chief Bogo's name displayed on the luminous screen. With Nick driving, it was left to Stu to answer. "Hello?"

"Put it on speaker." Nick said, and Stu obliged.

"Hey, Chief. How's it hanging?" Nick answered cheerfully, even though he was about to tell the angry bovine that he and Judy had been separated.

"Wilde, first off, where are you?" Bogo asked bitingly.

"We're making our way through Tall Oaks, sir." Nick said.

There was a nasty silence. "Tall Oaks. Are you serious, Wilde?"

"Sir, I can explain..."

"Officer Clawhauser left the city after you and he's mere minutes from Crabapple Valley! You and Hopps better have a good reason for lagging, Wilde!"

"We do, sir. A tire blew. It took half an hour to get the spare on."

Stu blinked.

"A tire?" the rabbit asked.

Nick nodded noiselessly. "Also, Hopps' mother got seriously car sick, so Hopps had to stay behind with her in Pride City. It's just me and her father now."

"For crying out loud, what next?!" There was a thud. Bogo must have punched the desk. "Alright, if Mrs Hopps became too sick to continue that's fair enough. But if you don't get that money back then you and your partner will be on parking duty for the rest of the year. Do I make myself clear?!"

"Yessir. Out of curiosity, what exactly is Clawhauser doing?"

"He's travelling to Bunnyburrow, just like you. He's taking that tarantula back to where it belongs, and he picked up another of the suspects along the way."

"What? Who?"

"The fennec fox. Apparently his van had an accident and he's hitchhiked with Clawhauser, not knowing that he's an officer."

"You're kidding."

"I don't kid."

"Says the guy who tricked me on my first day on the force."

"Shut it, Wilde. The bottom line is that Clawhauser is now involved with the case."

"I didn't think the big guy would ever leave his desk."

"Contact him as soon as possible, and make damn sure you aren't the last ones there!" With that, Bogo hung up.

Nick and Stu traded glances. At this rate, the case would have more twists and turns than Little Rodentia's walkway system.

In the back seat, Bruce wiped the sweat from the back of his neck with a handkerchief and sent a text explaining everything he'd just heard. One minute later, he received a reply.

[Bring them in.]

Bruce smirked and started typing another text for his two friends in Podunk.

I had some fun coming up with the different towns our characters pass through during the course of this story. My favourite is probably Windaland, which I intentionally wrote to be more like an old amusement park than an actual town.