Ethan is an okay guy. He does his taxes (sometimes), he pays his rent (less-times), he's committed to his job, and he is just like everyone else in zootopia. Hoping he can make a big mark on the world and that no one will care where he came from or who he was before. Of course reality is often not what we want or expected. Ethan grew up in his father's gang, on the outskirts of zootopia upon a large plot of land. His father's corrupt association with politicians, businessman, and even some very crude excuses for cops, had what you could call, "a bit of influence" on his life. However, his father was quite the character, and held high expectations for his son, when those expectations weren't met, well…there would be consequences. Later down the line Ethan dueled his father, for the seat as head of the gang. But found no pleasure or sense of success in killing his father. And he fled to zootopia, earning himself a new life, hoping to escape his last. But life...doesn't always work out.

The alarm on Ethans counter went off for the second time this morning. Ethan looked at the digital display. It read, 8:45 a.m, time to get up...Ethan hauled his lanky and thin form out of bed. Passing a mirror he took a look at himself. He has dark circles under his eyes, his back was slouched, you could almost barely make out his ribcage in his chest. suffice to say...he looked like shit. He FELT like shit too. Everything ached.

"I need to eat more…" he chuckled, with that he made his way over to his fridge. Opened it to find the contents of,

"Three pickle jars, a bit of synthetic meat, cheese, whatever that is, five ho-wait why the fuck do I have five bottles of hot sauce? Berries, apples, and a single banana...now I remember why I look like this." he sighed and not wanting to learn what the mystery food in the bottom shelf was, picked out the banana. And sat down. It tasted surprisingly fresh...he should eat more bananas. After finishing his short meal he fitted himself into the usual clothes. Jeans, a white T-shirt, and a black leather jacket. He searched around the house for a moment before finding what he was looking for. He reached behind the couch against the wall to pull out a bag of white dust. He stuffed it into his pocket and exited his house. On his way down he bumped into his neighbohr.

"Ms. Hopps! How are you?"

"For the last time ethan. You can call me judy." she chuckled, Ethan looking around spotted a fox still inside her apartment as she opened the door.

"Friend from last night?" he asked. She blushed stuttering, Ethan smiled, "Go figure, Bye Ms. Hopps!" he called walking out the door.

The cab ride was surprisingly short, he paid the driver and stepped out into the sunlight of the rainforest district. Walking along the bridges he finally came to a stop at the apartment he was looking for. He knocked three times and then did a rhythmic tap. The door creaked open, and a pair of bloodshot eyes looked out at Ethan.

"Y-you got it?" Ethan sighed.

"Jeez man, you can't keep doing this, take it easy, you don't want no overdose." reluctantly he handed him the small bag of white powder, and the mammal inturn dropped two large wads of cash into Ethans open paw, along with a couple of coins.

"Keep the change." he heard the mammal grumble as the door shut. Ethan pocketed his money and made his way to the nearest bank. He put one wad of cash and the coins into his bank account and then walked out. He began to make his way towards the bar. It was called...Jungle Jim, or something like that. Walking in he saw a lot of vixens. Like, holy shit. Most of them were being, I guess, what you could say is "hoarded" by some polar bears in tracksuits. The bears were laughing drunkenly while the vixens simply giggled mindlessly. It was then that it hit Ethan

"Fuckin' great. Mob Bar." The polar bears worked for Mr. Big. And if he had to place bets, Ethan would say the vixens did too. He walked to the bar man, planning to buy a drink then leave. When a vixen came up to him. Now don't get him wrong, Ethan definitely fit the bill for your standard, "cheap guy that needs a fucking." kind of look, but he was just, NOT interested. He ignored most of her incessant teasing and flirtatious remarks. Once he got his drink he took one swig and asked.

"What's your name?"

"Lena." she smirked,

"Cool I'm Godda." she seemed confused. He smiled and elaborated, "It's short for: Godda fuck back to your bear boys cause I'm not intested." with that he dropped his fake smile and headed home. He was drunk before he even got in the cab. Typical Ethan...Dude could do drugs for hours and have eyes whiter than paper. He could smoke Weed through his teeth. And yet he would be drunk off of one cheap bottle of downtown liquor. He stumbled out into the street. And walking towards his home. He heard a horn honk and flung himself backwards as a red car zoomed by a cop car close behind it. Ethan couldn't have cared less. He stumbled back up and fumbled his way back into his apartment. After he shut the door he didn't even get time to take off his shoes as he stumbled and then landed onto his bed with a flop. Falling sound asleep in 5 minutes. See, Ethans not a bad guy. But he's got a whole lot of issues. But as many issues as he has...he's about to have a lot more.

The red ford mustang sped down the street. The police hot on their tail. One of the masked criminals in the front seat screamed to the one in the back.

"YOU GET IT?"

"YEAH!" they screamed back. As they sealed a small USB drive into a plastic bag and shoved it into their pocket. Suddenly, a cop car cut them off and they skidded and knocked into a lamppost. All three exited the car. The driver began firing with a small handgun at the police. While the other two dashed into the alley. Shots from the police and lone criminal ringing out in the distance. One mammal turned to the other.

"You take the hard drive and get out of here. You have to stop this. GO" they ordered. And with that the criminal took off down the backstreets the lonely criminal left standing in the alleys. Slowly they turned around to see several police with guns raised at him.

"Now calm down bill." one spoke in a dangerously quiet voice. The criminal growled at them.

"Or what?" with that he drew his pistol. Gunshots rang out from all angles. A cop dropped to the floor a bullet in his head, and the criminal, riddled with bullet holes, fell backwards out of the alley, and out onto the pavement. Blood slid along the sidewalk cracks and onto the street as the police searched his body. But there was nothing. No drive, no nothing. They dropped his limp corpse unsatisfied. One cop turned around to look at the rest.

"WHERE."

"Beats me." a feline cop said. Suddenly he was hoisted up by his collar and pressed against a wall.

"WELL THEN FIND IT, Or else the boss will get rid of us both!" He spoke through gritted teeth. The cop nodded, sweating nervously. With that the police ran off through the alleys. But the hard drive they were looking for. Was already long gone. This is where all the problems began. With that one drive. That would end up in the hands of a very unfortunate Hyena.