The final intermission! Being able to use the word "final" for anything is an exciting prospect at this stage!
Chapter 33: Every Fox Has His Day
One Month Later
It was a surprise, and not entirely a relief, that the ZPD got as much of a break as they had. It was undoubtedly the calm before the storm, but at least they wouldn't have to weather that storm while complaining about how sore they all were. The previous adventures had taken their toll on each of them, but to summarize:
- Nick spent that time staying with the Rodentiguez's, a transition that proved awkward for everyone at first. He may have had some experience dealing with rodents, but wasn't at all prepared to live with them long-term, especially with a family that numbered significantly larger than two. Elizabeth assured him that Carla used to step on them a lot as well, which didn't exactly make it better. As for how Priscilla reacted...well, he'd felt it best to start locking the door to what was now his room, though he didn't put it past her to have secret passageways into it.
- Carla was still in jail, or at least the detention center, pending a trial that no one was really in a rush to get to right now. During which time, she continued to be visited by both her familia and friends, a category that now included Nick, not that either would say so outloud. He had grown closer to the hyena though, and sometimes visited her alone as well. This may or may not have been related to Priscilla's distrust of him.
- Judy had crashed the hardest after refusing to go to the hospital from her fight with Simon. After sleeping the full day, she came in the next morning as bright and eager as ever...then collapsed in the middle of the lobby. She woke up in St. Bernarde's wearing a full-body cast that was partially to help her heal and partially to keep her restrained to the bed until she did. She seemed to get the message after that, though had somehow managed to smuggle in a tranq gun to hide under her pillow "just in case".
- By contrast, Jimmy had the greatest luck. Not only had he come out of this mess mostly unscathed, with no loss of home, freedom, or bone structure, he had somehow gained three hot assassin masseuse girlfriends in the process. The same ones last seen disembarking from the Sea Train with extreme prejudice. When Nick asked how that had happened, his only response was, "You kinda had to be there."
- As for Count Reynard, who still had a stranglehold over an unnervingly large portion of the Zootopian criminal underworld, they had found where he was hiding quickly. That first day, they successfully tracked his movements to a giant, heavily-guarded tent surrounded by his mooks. They immediately set a careful eye on the place, ready to prepare an ambush the second he emerged again.
And that was a month ago.
"So between that, my looming IA hearing, and the VanDals vanishing off the face of the Earth, you can see why I'm a little on-edge right now, Mom."
"Yes, I can see you need this like you need a hole in your chest."
"That's not funny."
"It's not wrong either," Marian replied, leaning back in her rocking chair. Since being released from the hospital, the old vixen had spent the rest of her recovery back in her own Happytown home. After the home itself had recovered from the mess caused by Simon and Felix, that is.
Now she was mostly comfortable just having Nick visiting her regularly. Along with her physical therapist. Along with the rotating police protection outside her door. After all the time she'd spent in isolation, she appreciated all the company she could get. "How have your new friends been taking this?"
"Judy's stressed about it too, though she's been hiding it pretty well, Carla's not hiding it at all, and Jimmy's actually been more chipper than usual as of late."
"Well, hopefully they have something special prepared for you tomorrow. That should put everyone in higher spirits," Marian reassured him, smiling in that warm, motherly way that Nick hadn't realized he would miss so much until he got it regularly again..
"Why? What's tomorrow?"
He'd even missed her sad smiles. "Oh, Nicholas. Don't tell me you've actually managed to forget your own birthday."
She pointed across the room to a calendar on her wall, where one particular date was circled in red. "I was actually building up the courage to try contacting you through the ZPD when the time came, but unlike your father, I'm just fine with my plans being foiled."
"Huh. I guess I lost track after a while," he admitted. "Sorry. When you're living on the streets and just trying to make ends meet, celebrating another year alive feels like less of a joke and more like a tragic circumstance."
"So you haven't even gotten any presents?"
"Finn tried once, but all he could afford was a jumbo Bug Burga with my face drawn on the top in ketchup."
"Now that just won't do," she said, shaking her head as if she'd just been told he was fired from the force...which he technically wasn't. Yet. "As soon as you finish your celebrations at the ZPD, you come right back here! I'm going to plan a big party for you!"
"Isn't that kind of thing supposed to be a surprise?"
"Maybe, but I think you've had enough of those for a while."
"Can't argue that."
"Ooooh, this is so exciting!" She almost leapt out of her seat, but Nick gently coaxed her back down as she was still recovering. "I know it won't be much, but I could at least get you a cake! Blueberry, your favorite! And some presents! Not twenty years worth, but more than one certainly! And you can invite your friends and I can invite mine! Well, I really only have this one friend that I met at the supermarket, but she's really nice and I think you'll like her! Then we can all head out and play some miniature golf or something!"
"Okaaaaay, Mom, that all sounds great," Nick chuckled. "Just don't overexert yourself. You're gonna need to keep yourself in one piece to do any of that. So will I, come to think of it. I mean, who even knows what Dad is planning to get...me." Nick froze.
"What's wrong? Look, if he gets you something, you can keep it if you want. It's not going to upset me. Just as long as you like my presents more."
"That's not it," he said, feeling like he needed a chair himself now. "I know what he's going to get me. That's why he hasn't acted in so long. This is what he's been waiting for."
"Nicholas?" Marian asked softly. "Are you alright? Do I need to cancel the party plans?"
"No!" he said quickly. "No, party plans sound great. Don't change a thing. Just...we might be a little late, okay?"
"As long as you get here before midnight," she joked. "Alright, I trust you. I know I don't have to worry about you coming back to me anymore." She stood up again, this time unimpeded, and hugged him. "You take care of whatever you need."
"Don't worry, I intend to."
"Glad to hear it. I love you, Nicholas."
"I love you too, Mom."
Nick left her to finish her recovery and start on what he was sure would be an amazing party. It was an event long-overdue for both of them. There was just one very large piece of unfinished business standing in their way. And Nick Wilde, for the sake of his friends, his family, and himself, wouldn't let it stand for long.
You wanna settle this on my special day, Dad? Then let's settle this. 33 is gonna be your unlucky number.
That sounded cheesy even in his head.
Savannah Central
City Hall - Conference Room
9: 48 AM
Chief Bogo's love/hate relationship with City Hall was well-documented. At times like this, he veered much more heavily towards hate.
The proposal he brought up today, which had taken the entire month just to arrange, was to organize every precinct of the ZPD into a cohesive force, then use that force to crush Count Reynard before he could use his own formidable numbers to launch some kind of attack of his own. One would think such a request reasonable, but one was never prepared for the sheer stubbornness of eight police chiefs and how much they generally didn't get along.
"Now, now, let's remain calm, gentlemammals. There's no need to get heated," said Mayor Manchas, sitting at one end of the long table they were using for this meeting. Chief Bogo, sitting at the other end, just scowled. He didn't particularly care for the feline, given his mob connections, but at least he wasn't explicitly corrupt like the last two mayors, so he supposed that was an improvement.
And he was far from the biggest annoyance in the room. "Frankly, I can't believe we're still yammering about this rubbish," said Chief Devlin Bushfire of Precinct 5: Outback Island. The Tasmanian devil looked down the table smugly. "Can't you take a hint, mate?"
"And I can't believe you still have a job after the stunt you pulled on Outback," Bogo said back. "But I guess I shouldn't expect help from someone who caved into the Count's demands before we even knew who he was."
"Hey, my little convo with the suited wanker is strictly personal!" He slammed a small fist down on the table. "Be grateful it got your officers out of my custody or else they might still be there, making comically-misleading interrogation statements to this day!"
"I wish you'd share those tapes with us, Dev. They sound like a lot of fun," purred Chief Kii Catano of Precinct 4: the Rainforest District. The cheetah's approach to justice was as relaxed as ever, the cat leaning back in her chair with her feet on the table. She was just asking to tip over, and at this point, Bogo spitefully hoped she would. "I haven't gotten much of that from anyone since the Lang Family skedaddled."
"They didn't 'skedaddle'," Bogo corrected, "they're working for Reynard now and building something very large and potentially very dangerous in my own district! That we should really do something about!"
"Oh right, you did mention that." Catano yawned, rubbing at her eye. "Sorry, after a while, it gets hard to listen to you, Bogo. All I hear is 'blah blah protocol blah blah infraction blah blah grrrrrrrr angry!'"
"She's got ya there, mate," Bushfire snickered.
Bogo fumed, trying really hard not to prove her point. "Would it kill you to take your job seriously just once?"
"I don't know, I think I'm doing okay. I do technically have the least crime-ridden district right now."
"Actually, that would be mine," countered Chief Betty Woolworth of Precinct 8: the Meadowlands. The llama smiled cheerfully as she clapped her hooves together, various flowers poking out of her headfur. "Why, the Meadowlands have been peaceful for as long as I can remember. Not that I'm complaining; it's really given me time to help liven up the place."
Bushfire groaned. "We keep telling you, mate, just because crime isn't as visible there, that doesn't mean it don't exist! It's just a haven for white collar crimes inst-AGGH!" The tazzy recoiled, furiously wiping at the wad of spit he had taken to the face. "Stop doing that!"
"Stop telling lies."
"Stop avoiding the subject!" Bogo yelled. "Do you all even care how much power this fox has amassed?! He could be building a doomsday weapon that will destroy the entire city for all we know!"
"That's just it! We don't know!" snapped the diminutive form of Chief Jenny Sanders of Precinct 2: Sahara Square. The fennec fox's ears flared up defiantly. "What you're proposing is to send our forces charging in to face a threat we can't fully define and don't know what to expect from! Hell, this whole thing could be an elaborate trap to lure us in and kill us all! Based on what we've seen from this guy, I wouldn't put it past him."
No one knew for sure how exactly a fennec fox had ended up police chief such a short time after Nick Wilde's debut on the force, but all rumors of the incident implied that it was not a peaceful transition.
"I have to agree with Chief Sanders' point," said Chief Wilkes Pismo of Precinct 6: the Docks. The portly otter had long believed that his girth would better help him to sink further and catch underwater criminals, but he was a strong speaker with an equally strong sense of justice, something that Bogo respected enough to look past that. "Though I suspect she's more motivated by not having to deal with all the paperwork involved in such an alliance, her reasoning is sound."
"Of course I don't want to deal with that shit!" she admitted. "I don't want to be in this room a second longer than I have to! It's freezing in here! Can someone crank up the damn heat?!"
"I'm going to have to politely ask you not to do that, if that's okay," shyly spoke Chief Dewey Gongheart of Precinct 3: Tundratown. The dugong was known for his kind heart and dislike of violence, though he maintained a solid record and the respect of his community regardless. "Now, it is my understanding that the individual operations of the former crime lords are all still running as normal under this Reynard fellow's control. I ask then, is there really a need to change our current approach to tackling them?"
"Of course there is!" Bogo insisted. "Reynard has maintained his power over the other gangs partially by letting them do their usual thing, but that comes with the understanding that they can and will unite under him when he calls for it. Never have the crime lords of the past been able to form such a strong alliance on their own. That's why we need to respond in kind!"
"There's something else you're failing to consider," Pismo said, backing up his fellow marine mammal. "While it is true that Reynard's assembled forces may be a threat, it is also true that the influence he exerts in our own districts is already a threat. As Gongheart says, their individual operations are still running and still require as much of our attention as ever. Even on my end, the activities formerly carried out by the Narwhalter Society have simply shifted to the surface. It's actually made me busier, now that my precinct can make a simple arrest without risk of drowning."
"Not me," Catano said, stretching out in her chair. "It's been pretty relaxing in Rainforest now that the Lang Family are your problem, Bogo."
"Weren't you just complaining about not having them around?"
"Eh, it has its ups and downs. We could all use a little peace and quiet sometimes."
"Or always in the Meadowlands," Woolworth said proudly.
"Looks like someone hasn't heard of the Felidae Infernum." She swiftly dodged another wad of spit from the incensed llama, and to the mutual disappointment of Woolworth and Bogo, managed to keep her balance in the leaning chair. "Nice try."
"Pismo's right!" Bushfire argued. "Do you know how hard it is to quickly travel to and from Outback Island?! Imagine if I sent a bunch of my guys off to go fight your fox, and in the meantime, a new drug craze breaks out, or worse, a surge of naturalism." He shivered. "It'd be a bloody disaster!"
Sanders shivered too. "Damn this cold. You know what I think? I think Bogo's just getting paranoid because it's his district Reynard decided to squat in."
"I'm sorry if my concern about this highly-dangerous criminal hanging out in my backyard comes across as irrational," he said sardonically. "But while I acknowledge all of your points, it doesn't change the fact that he needs to be stopped!"
"And he will be," Pismo assured. "Just not immediately."
"Clearly."
Sanders sneezed. "That's it, I'm going for the thermostat." She hopped down from her raised chair and headed for the device, her efforts thwarted by it being two feet too high. Undeterred, she started jumping for it while muttering loudly about size discrimination and anything else she could find to complain about. Both shortness and short-temperedness were common traits of her species. "Shit! Hey Mayor, can you get this thing?"
"So this is what my position has been reduced to." The panther sighed. "But no, I can't. That could be legitimately detrimental to the health of Chief Gongheart."
"Thank you," the sirenian said gratefully. He had been ineffectually trying to raise his voice and wave down the vulpine since she'd left her seat.
It was at this point that the only other mammal yet to speak finally voiced an objection. "If I'm not cold, then you can handle it, Jennifer."
She snarled indignantly, but stood down and reluctantly went back to her seat. This was not merely due to respect, although the speaker certainly had that.
He was Chief Giles Farrow of Precinct 7: the Nocturnal District. The naked mole rat was old and haggard, with milky blue eyes that were nearly blind, but more than capable of seeing bullshit. Despite the Nocturnal District being by far the worst in terms of crime, there was an unspoken understanding that if it weren't for Chief Farrow's efforts, there might not even be a Nocturnal District anymore. Between his boundless perseverance and sheer seniority, he held a great deal of sway over the others.
Given what Bogo knew about the old rodent, this was very much not in his favor. "There is yet another reason we must reject your proposal, Abasi." Bogo flinched at the use of his first name. If Wilde ever noticed the pun, he'd never hear the end of it. "Need I remind you of the dangers of creating a power vacuum?"
The other chiefs muttered amongst themselves in sudden concern. This was obviously the first time they'd considered it themselves, but to Farrow, such knowledge was second nature. "Count Reynard has constructed a giant house of cards that looms over our fair city, and while the potential threat posed by him and his flunkies is great indeed, it pales in comparison to what will happen should you send that house of cards crashing down on top of us."
He raised his raspy voice. "Consider this, everyone. The Count's syndicate is currently comprised of five distinct criminal organizations, including his original gang from Foxden, each with their own ideologies, methodologies, and ambitions. Right now, they're all been hastily glued together under Reynard's leadership, and the only reason that glue has held is because he's made as few changes as possible while paying them handsomely enough that sticking with him is a better alternative than going it alone."
Farrow paused, making sure he had the rapt attention of them all before he continued. He did. "Now, imagine removing Reynard from this equation. Suddenly, this suited wave of criminals is without a leader. Even if we were to arrest a significant number of them in the process, what remains will immediately be looking to fill the void. Of course, there will be no clear replacement, as the only authority all of them respected was Reynard's own. Several will be suggested, only to be rejected by the other four-fifths whose gangs did not sire them. They will agree that they need to stay unified to keep their newfound power, but there will be no agreement as to how. Arguments will break out, then open warfare. Territorial lines will be drawn, crossed, erased, and drawn again, and since we're talking about criminals from all over the city, no district will be safe. No citizen will be able to leave their homes in complete confidence that they won't be caught in the crossfire. This is exactly what I have seen happen to the Nocturnal District, and I refuse to let it engulf all of Zootopia!"
"Still sounds like the Meadowlands might be okay," Woolworth muttered.
"Hmph. You think he hasn't drawn in new recruits from there and Nocturnal by now? This is to be a spilled melting pot with no boundaries, I'm afraid."
She made no move to spit and just went silent, along with everyone else. There was simply nothing else left to be said after that. Even the likes of Bushfire and Sanders were left speechless.
Bogo knew there and then that this battle was lost, but he spoke up anyway. "That is exactly why we need to unify as well. No matter how large the fallout, there is nothing the combined forces of the ZPD cannot handle."
"I respectfully disagree," Farrow said simply.
"Then what's the alternative?!" he demanded, slamming both hooves on the table. "In order to maintain the status quo, we just sit back and let Reynard win?!"
"The safety and stability of Zootopia as a whole is more important than the arrest of an overambitious tailor."
"So yes?"
"Yes."
Bogo trembled with rage, barely-concealing the urge to go full stereotype and charge right through the table to make a point. But all he said in the end was, "Then I think we're done here."
Mayor Manchas visibly relaxed. Mediating this discussion had been far more stressful than expected. "Thank you for your time, everyone. You may return to your duties now."
"That makes one of us," Bogo said, leaving the room and slamming the door behind him.
The mayor groaned. "I almost wish I still had Sunny around to handle these duties for me."
"Oh yeah, what happened to the little guy anyway?" Sanders asked, no one daring to smirk at that.
"I sent him on an important errand to Bunnyburrow yesterday." He rubbed his temples. "I only hope he's having a better time of it than me."
Sahara Square
Rodentriguez Residence
11: 34 AM
Nick thought that having both Judy and Jimmy over for lunch might strain Elizabeth's hospitality, and her oven, a bit too much. But the three of them together apparently only matched the appetite of Carla by herself, so it was no problem at all. As the three of them engorged themselves on oversized-to-overcompensate portions of mac & cheese, Nick laid out the much bigger problem.
"Wait, tomorrow's your birthday?" Jimmy asked. "Oh no, I didn't get you anything! What kind of friend am I?!"
"Quick, bring me back to my homeland! We'll sacrifice one of my brethren!"
"It's fine, really!" Nick insisted before they, and the entire familia, started grilling him for gift ideas. "The best present you could possibly give is helping me put Reynard behind bars."
Judy chewed slowly in thought, then swallowed. "I don't get it. You think he's still trying to give that giant syndicate to you? Was it not clear by now that you don't want it? Because I thought it was pretty clear."
"I'm not sure, but that's all I can think of," Nick admitted. "What's getting me is that he's had all this power all this time and he's been doing almost nothing with it. No attacks, no threats, nada. He's just squatting in his stupid tent and letting his suits conduct business as usual. If you didn't know any better, you'd think nothing's even changed since he got here."
"Well, those drug runners probably have better business since they don't get naked anymore," Jimmy theorized. His phone pinged and he looked down at it, blushing. "Speaking of which, the Vixens keep sending me pictures of themselves. Is that normal in a relationship?"
"Nothing in your relationship is normal in a relationship," Nick replied. "Seriously, you've told me exactly how this happened and I still don't get it."
"That was a fun story. It had my parents in it."
"Annnnnywaaaay, if Reynard is putting this much faith into whatever he's hiding under that tent, then it's some serious bad news that we can't even prepare for. Any update on getting that raid together, Carrots?"
"No harm in checking." She proved her commitment to duty by not even finishing her meal before she called into the precinct. "Hey, Clawhauser. Could you forward me to Chief-"
There was the sound of a slamming office door, loud enough to be heard by Judy, her friends, the rats, and even Elizabeth all the way in the kitchen. "Nevermind." She hung up.
"That bad, huh?" Nick asked.
"He's frustrated," she said. "And I can't blame him. There's an extremely powerful criminal overlord hiding out in the city, we know exactly where he is, and we're just twiddling our thumbs waiting for him to make a move before we can."
"Three cheers for bureaucracy!"
"Well, good news then. If my theory is correct, we won't have to wait much longer," Nick said, sarcasm dripping like the cheese from his spoon.
Jimmy's phone pinged again. His brows raised in surprise. "Wow, I didn't know you could do all that with a beach ball."
"There must be something we can do!" Judy almost screamed. "If we end up losing this thing, I really don't want my last thoughts to be about how we did nothing but eat mac & cheese while Reynard was preparing for war. No offense, Miss Rodentriguez. This is very good."
"Gracias," the rat said gratefully, piling more onto her plate in response.
"Yeah, if he gets the first move, he'll control the entire board," Nick agreed. "I still think the whole Narwhalter win was kind of a fluke, but we only got it by getting ahead of him."
Jimmy's phone pinged yet again. "You know, I think I'm actually starting to tell them apart without even hearing them talk."
This finally got Nick's attention. "Okay, just to be clear, you are sure this is actually the Vixens you're talking to, right? We already know Reynard can impersonate me at least."
"Pretty sure. I could show you the pictures if you don't believe m-"
"No, no, that won't be necessary!" Nick loudly cut him off. "But if you're in such close contact with them now, maybe you could ask them if they know anything about what Reynard's up to."
"Yeah, okay." Jimmy spent a moment typing up the question, and another before he got a reply. "We, like, don't know a thing about that," he read. "He lets literally nobody see under that tent except for the Langs and the cute little fennec guy."
"Are they sharing a phone?" Judy wondered.
"We do know that Piper and Drummond are still with him," Jimmy kept reading, at this point starting to put on a valley girl accent himself. "Finally got those team jerseys Reynard ordered them too. But we're so not jealous or anything. At least Piper's trying her paw at online dating now. No way, she has way too much pride for that! That's literally just what I heard, okay? From who? From Beverly at work. What, that girl at the front desk? You so can't trust anything she says! I heard-"
"I think you can stop there," Nick said, the text debate continuing in the background. "The sad part is that was still more help than the rest of the ZPD provided."
"Sometimes the best help can come from unexpected sources," Elizabeth remarked from below. "Sorry for eavesdropping, but I have an ear for gossip myself."
Nick sat up. "Waaaaait a minute. That's it!"
"What's it?" Jimmy asked.
"We haven't been able to build up enough mammalpower to take on Reynard because we've been looking for help in the wrong place."
"The ZPD is not the wrong place," Judy snapped defensively. "Although its assistance has been somewhat lacking thus far, I admit."
"Right? So instead of looking to a bunch of strangers to lend a paw, why don't we just ask mammals who we already know are willing to help us?"
"What, like these guys?" Judy asked uneasily, looking around at the Rodentriguez's. "Haven't they been through enough already?"
"I dunno, let's find out." Nick projected his voice across the room. "Who here wants to launch a full-scale assault against Count Reynard and everything he stands for?"
The entire room instantly lit up into roaring cheers for blood, several of the rats pulling makeshift weapons from beneath the dining table and waving them around.
Judy blinked. "I am deeply concerned about this family."
"They're just passionate, Carrots. Believe me, between them and Carla, I've gotten used to it." Priscilla gave him a small glare from down the table, but he was used to that too.
"You know Chief Bogo's not going to like this," she warned.
"What does he like? Not the other precinct chiefs, and certainly not Reynard. At this point, even he might be willing to consider other options."
"I suppose…" she said, still unsure about any of this. "And, in the hypothetical scenario that he agrees, who else did you have in mind?"
"I have some ideas."
Savannah Central
Zootopia Police Department - Precinct 1
9:00 PM
It had taken many phone calls and several hours of short-notice organizing, but at long last, the bullpen was filled to the brim with assembled mammals. The entire police force of Precinct 1 was here, including the officers no one paid attention to like Johnson and Higgins.
But it wasn't just Precinct 1.
The rest of the empty space was taken up by a multitude of other mammals, many of whom had come into direct conflict with said officers. This included Carla Hyenandez, no longer even a fake cop, crossing her arms in one of the seats. Surrounding her on the desks at all sides was the Rodentriguez family, Priscilla perched atop the hyena's shoulder and nuzzling her lovingly. Beside them was Gomez, the matador bull begrudgingly welcomed into the fold like a distant uncle. Less out of place was Fru Fru, the arctic shrew looking as ferocious as her species was known for and wielding a familiar fang as a weapon. This was noticeably unnerving to Fangs, who had been rounded up, cured, and released on account of being too pathetic for the Nocturnal District, along with Boomer. The two naturalists disturbed Elise Chorda, holding an eager Harvey in her lap, each still wearing their fire helmets. Looking nervously at the skunk was Timber, the Lang Family wolf who had briefly joined the party during their excursion in the Rainforest District. Repeatedly trolling Timber by making crackling fire noises was Captain Smokey, fortunately not accompanied by Bella or nobody else would fit in here. And of course, the Vixens were all huddled into one seat and blowing kisses at Jimmy, who stood facing the assembly with Nick, Judy, and Bogo.
Nick cleared his throat and addressed the crowd. "I now call the first meeting of the Frankly Ridiculous Entirely Nonsensical Errant Mammal Yuckfest! Chief, what's on the docket for tonight?
"I don't like this," the chief said bluntly. "As much as I want to throttle the other chiefs right now, they made some fair points and I feel like this isn't exactly disproving them."
"Probably not," Nick replied, just as bluntly. "But desperate times call for desperate criminals, and we need all the help we can get right now." He pointed to the Outbackers. "Those two almost killed me and you don't see me complaining."
"Water under the bridge, mate," Boomer said gratefully, tipping his bowler hat to him. "Anything we can do to show Reynard what for."
"Wait a minute, we're not criminals!" Priscilla objected.
Unblinking, Bogo pulled out an actual rap sheet on their guests and read, "Causing a public disturbance, wanton destruction of property, and assault on two hapless sports commentators."
"...We did it for love?"
"Mmmhmm." Bogo looked over the rest of the sheet in clear disdain. "All of you have committed crimes both great and small, with the exception of Miss Chorda, who I guess is just here to chaperone."
"Anything for my little bro," she said sweetly, scritching the pleased skunk behind the ears.
"But in light of the much larger threat posed by Count Reynard, I am willing to offer a paaa…" Bogo's voice hitched. "A paaaaar…" He shuddered. "I can't say it."
"A pardon!" Nick announced.
"Wooo! Cheating the system! Again!" Smokey cheered, along with the others.
"Not a full pardon!" Bogo clarified. "The thought of letting any of you completely off the hook makes me want to collapse this entire building down on myself because justice obviously doesn't exist here anyway. But…" He managed to compose himself. "I will keep you out of jail in exchange for putting your talents to actually beneficial use to society for once."
"That's fair," Carla agreed with a shrug. "More than I was expecting."
Crystal raised a paw. "But we, like, rid mammals of their stress and sorrows. Isn't that enough benefit?"
"Are you talking about the masseuse thing or the assassin thing?" Jimmy asked.
"Either way, no!" Bogo snapped.
Judy looked up at him. "Are you sure the other chiefs are going to be okay with this? Most of these guys aren't even in our jurisdiction."
"Nope. I expect they'll want my head for even considering it. But it's easier to ask for forgiveness than permission and clearing the city of this giant, snappily-dressed cancer will hopefully be enough for them to pardon me too."
"And if it isn't?"
"Well, it's just as you told me, Hopps," he said resolutely. "Some things are more important than a job."
Even the other officers in the room seemed to agree with that sentiment.
Nick looked over the room and sighed. "You know who would've been great to have here right now?"
"The VanDals?" Jimmy guessed.
"Yeah, them too." If only you were a little more patient, Finn...
Shaking it off, he stepped forward to address the room again. "So here's the deal. Whatever move Reynard's planning to make, we suspect he's going to make it tomorrow, on my birthday. So before that happens, we need to-"
"It's your birthday?" Wolford asked. "Why didn't you tell any of us sooner? We would've totally thrown you a big ZPD party!"
"I doubt you'd want anything we have to give you, mate," Fangs admitted.
"Our gifts are all for Jimmy-Wimmy now," Pearl purred, winking at him.
"We already have a party planned and I'll tell you the details later, but for now, shush!" Nick waited until the excited chatter died down before he started again. "Tomorrow, we make a stand for cops and crooks everywhere! Reynard may massively outnumber us, he may have way more weapons and resources than we do, and he may be a powerful and shrewd criminal mastermind who's gone untouched for decades, but we all want to stop him really bad, so together, we will get slaughtered!"
The growing morale building in the room died out instantly, leaving many mammals frozen stiff in determined poses.
Nick shook his head. "Yeah, no. This was a terrible idea. What was I thinking? Look, I appreciate the high turnout and all, but I really don't think even this is going to cut it. Chief?"
Bogo flinched in surprise, actually starting to get into this himself. "Well….tactically speaking, we're still pretty lacking to fight Reynard head-on like this."
Even Judy was hesitant. "B-But I'm sure if we all put our heads together, we can think of something!"
"Yeah! We can do it somehow!" Jimmy agreed.
"We're all going to die."
"Hey, that's not true!" Jimmy scolded him. "He'll probably spare Nick."
"Um...can I clarify something?" asked a voice from the crowd.
Nick shrugged. "Sure, why not? What is it, Timberflake?"
The biker wolf lowered his paw. "I just don't really get why y'all think this is so hopeless. I mean, you've got all of us backing ya up."
Nick sighed patiently. "Okay, maybe you're not great at math, I can relate, but this roomful of begrudgingly-compliant mammals is still nowhere near the size of Reynard's ungodly large combined criminal syndicate."
"Yeah, I get that, but I was talking 'bout the rest."
The four of them all looked at each other, then back. "The...rest?" Judy asked.
"The rest. I'm here on behalf of the Lang Family, remember?"
"To be honest, I kinda just called you in for information on what's under that tent," Nick admitted. Then his ears sprang up. "Wait, you don't mean the entire Lang Family?"
"Well, apart from Felix, for obvious reasons, but yeah." Timber scratched his cheek. "We obviously couldn't all fit in here, so they're just waitin' to hear back from me. Should I tell them we're giving up now?"
"Just to get this straight, you're telling me that we have roughly two hundred trained mechanics and fighters on our side now."
"That's about the size of it. Literally."
"Don't steal my word," Opal warned.
"Huh." Nick leaned back against the wall, needing a minute to process that. "Yeah...yeah, that makes this a bit more feasible. Let's resume the meeting then."
"Hold on," Judy said, noticing something off. "If you're all here, then who's working on Reynard's big plan now?"
"Oh, you mean the HB Project? We finished that a few hours ago."
Timber glanced around at the many shocked faces now staring at him. "Why are y'all looking at me like that?"
Constructed Zone
9: 33 PM
Finnick had grown so used to the sounds of whirring machinery and rampant howling that it was the distinct lack of those sounds that woke him from his nap. His large ears twitched as he pulled himself up from the cold dirt under the bridge and dusted himself off. There was something very wrong with a member of Zootopia's most powerful criminal syndicate being effectively homeless. Least Reynard could do is give me a damn blanket.
Not that he wasn't used to this kind of thing; he just expected better, perhaps foolishly.
When he emerged from under the bridge, he was surprised to see a massive crowd of black-suited mammals blocking the way between him and the construction project he was supposed to be managing. "Alright, outta my way! What's going on here?"
They couldn't hear him over their excited clamoring, or maybe because of his height, but he was going to give them the benefit of the doubt and assume the former. That didn't stop him from having to squeeze and shove his way to the front of the mob though. When he finally popped out the other end, his suit was left even more disheveled.
At first, he didn't see what all the commotion was even about. The former Langs were nowhere in sight, but the giant tent was still in place.
"Laaaaaaadies and gentlemammals! It's time for the graaaaaaaand opening!" Reynard's voice announced from somewhere beneath it, probably using his cane's mic function. Finnick found it somewhat sad that he'd been around him long enough to memorize most of them. "At long last, our Zootopian headquarters is finally complete!"
"At long last is right! You were going to let me sleep through this?!"
But even Finnick's complaining couldn't carry over the cheers of the crowd around him. He supposed he couldn't blame them.
"Yes, indeedy!" Reynard continued, probably not in answer to him. "The Mild Manor served its purpose well, but it always lacked a certain pizazz. Much like myself. Behold!"
Reynard stepped through the tent and posed with his arms wide, to the eruption of more cheering.
Finnick was more focused on his outfit. "What's with the pimp suit?"
"I see you've noticed my Big Climax Ensemble," he said, not helping the impression. It almost seemed blasphemous, but Reynard had fully replaced his usual black suit with a gold tailcoat and pants, almost sparkling with pure decadence. He still wore the bloodstained tie, but it was now combined with a grinning fox brooch around his neck. He pulled down the brim of a tall top hat, with five illustrated playing cards lining the band:
Mr. Big, the King of Hearts
Damien Thornbrush, the King of Clubs
Lady Lang, the Queen of Hearts
Sandcat Sanchez, the King of Diamonds
Piers Narwhalter, the King of Spades
"Well, what do you think?"
"I think it's a little late to be having a midlife crisis."
"Far too late," he agreed. "But I thought the occasion warranted it. My son deserves the very best presentation I can provide tomorrow. The Happy Birthday Project wouldn't be anything without him, right?"
"I guess not. The...wait, what did you just call it?"
"The Happy Birthday Project. What, you never wondered what the 'HB' stood for?"
His eye twitched.
"I mean, you could've asked."
Finnick pinched his brow and let out a sigh, turning back to the rest of the gang. "There! You have your answer now! Happy?!"
There was a series of groans and curses. The suited crooks turned to a giant betting board filled with guesses such as "Honey Badger", "Howler Bomb", and "Hanna Barbara" among other things. Many lost their bets that day.
"Guess I won't be needing this anymore," Reynard said, casually pulling out a lighter and setting fire to the HB file.
"Honestly, I'm relieved," Finnick admitted. "You have no idea how much those guys have been hounding me for a peek under that tent."
"Heh. Hounding. Because wolves were involved."
"Speaking of which, I don't think the Langs are coming back from that last bathroom break."
"I did find it weird that they all went at once, but I assumed it was just a pack thing. You know, like girls do." He shrugged. "No biggie. They've served their role. Now it's time to show it off."
"You just lost an entire faction of the syndicate and it's no biggie?"
Reynard brought the cane to his lips again, its head removed to reveal the mic attachment. "I present to you all, the land where lawlessness awaits! Go big, go Wilde! See it here, hustle it there! The most maniacal place on Earth! COME ONE! COME ALL!"
With the help of a few large cranes, the tent was finally unfurled, a multitude of colorful balloons erupting from inside. Reynard lifted his cane to the sky, which quieted his voice, but had more dramatic impact.
"TO WILDE TIMES!"
A tune that could best be described as "crafty carnival music" began to blare out of unseen speakers. The park's name was spelled out in giant, flashy letters over the entrance to the warehouse that served as its base. From there, it split out into several other attractions, including a haunted house, water park, and go-kart track. It was roughly the size of your average theme park overall, and could almost pass for one too if not for the giant, menacing iron fence that surrounded it on all sides.
No, actually that was pretty standard.
"I still can't believe this is where you expect us all to stay," Finnick huffed. "This is the dumbest, most asinine thing I ever-"
"I'm gonna be first in line for the roller coaster!" Lucy yelled, taking off instantly.
"I will crush all weaklings in the bumper cars!" Drummond declared. "And possibly under!"
"Tunnel of Love, grant me an encore!" Piper demanded. Both she and Drummond were noticeably wearing Discard team jerseys now.
"EL ORGULLO WISHES TO PARTAKE IN THE TEST OF STRENGTH!"
Even Koslov was on the hunt for the nearest snow cone stand.
To Finnick's shock, horror, but not exactly surprise, the rest of the suits rushed past them en masse to flood into the park. It was like Reynard's inner mamchild had become contagious.
"Come now, Radar, why the long face? Everyone enjoys an amusement park!" Reynard insisted.
"Okay, but why though? You could've built a big evil castle or monstrous factory and instead you make this abomination!"
"Well, you know how your average dad might bring his son to the amusement park for his birthday, right? So I thought: what tops that? Giving him an amusement park! Ha!"
"Flawless logic. And, uh, exactly how much did you spend on all this?"
"Nearly my entire lifelong fortune!" he said proudly.
"...Isn't that gonna be kind of a problem in the long-term?"
"Nah, I have faith in my son," he said dismissively. "I know he'll be able to handle it. Besides, I still have the rest of my assets back in Foxden, though those are as good as gone already, considering who I left in charge over there." He snorted a chuckle.
"Oh my shit."
"Relax, buddy. Everything's gonna be juuuuuust fine." Reynard leaned down and ruffled his head, which he might've reacted to violently if he weren't so stupefied. "So how about we go enjoy some rides together, eh?"
"I think I'm gonna be sick."
"Barf bags are provided. Now…" Reynard stopped as he looked again at the sign over the front gate.
Wild Times
Reynard narrowed his eyes at the words, then down at his cohort.
"What?"
"Didn't I tell you to spellcheck?"
Wild(e) Times
Standard Theme Park Secret Lab
10: 14 PM
Finnick hadn't lasted very long, the spoilsport. Ah well, Reynard had someone more fun to visit anyhow.
The fox closed a metal door behind him, its outside painted black with a star pattern to blend in with its surroundings. On the other end was a sprawling room filled with machinery, but only one active resident. "Hey, Doc? You in here?" Reynard called.
"Just a moment please!" a jilted Badgertain accent called from somewhere above him. He could vaguely see a shape rummaging through scrap metal. "I seem to have misplaced my marbles!"
There was a loud clang and Reynard took a step back as a metal beam fell in front of him. "I believe you may also have a screw loose."
"Indubitably. Ah, there we are!" A figure leapt out of the darkness and landed on the beam. Neither had startled him that much.
He was a white hare in a white lab coat, tan slacks and a yellow t-shirt underneath. He had fur so disheveled it was as if he had a permanent, full-body case of bedhead, and black goggles around his ears that were old and cracked to the point of being unusable. Nevertheless, Dr. Thompkin Hareison was an undisputed genius, and that was precisely why Reynard kept commissioning the guy even though he didn't technically work for him.
Admittedly, he could also relate to being doubted as an expert in your field just because you happened to be a little eccentric. It was amazing how many mammals still doubted he was a real tailor. He hadn't spent hours slaving over a hot sewing machine for that kind of treatment!
Hareison stuffed his marbles somewhere inside his lap coat, and Reynard wasn't even sure he had real pockets in there. "Good to see you again, Count. Looks like your arm has healed up nicely. Of course, it would've been much faster if you'd just replaced it with the robot arm I made…"
"Tempting, but you know I've always been about form over function, and I just can't get the same kind of spin out of a machine." He twirled his cane around a few times and swung it over his arm for emphasis. "Even you can't do much about that, Tommy Bun."
"That nickname is scientifically-inaccurate and your claims moreso, but I'll let it slide. How's the cane been treating you anyway?"
"Very nicely!" he praised, looking it over lovingly. "It's a complete mockery to the laws of physics, and as a lawbreaker myself, I feel a certain kinship. I keep getting the flamethrower and itching powder mixed up, but other than that, I have no complaints. Which is more than I can say about the Fine-Jailed Fox Mk. II and a rather troubling design flaw…"
"The torpedo ejection system?"
"Yep."
"Balls. Well, not to worry, I can assure you that the next aquatic war machine I construct will not have that one flaw specifically."
"Nah, I doubt I'll be going back to that gimmick." He waved it off. "I prefer to look toward the future."
"So you wish for an update on the you-know-wot?"
"Wot indeed."
"Excellent! Right this way!" Hareison did a little hop, turning around in mid-air and heading off as soon as he landed.
Reynard followed him deeper into the depths of the lab, Hareison continuing to ramble on. "This really has been my greatest challenge, you know. Loathe as I am to admit, I even had to ask some of the Lang fellows for tools every now and then. They've been most accommodating."
"I thought you told me they kept cussing you out and throwing the tools at your head."
"Yes, their sheer eagerness to assist surprised me too, and I hadn't even considered the importance of testing my reflexes." Another hunk of metal fell towards him that he swiftly dodged. "I only wish I could have properly thanked them before they left. Such skill in this craft doesn't come lightly, and they must learn to cherish it before facing the cold embrace of death."
"Indeed. You're a bit of a screwball, Doc, but in an efficient sort of way. Let's see what you've got for me."
They reached the back of the lab, where a large curtain concealed something. "Take a peek," Hareison offered, grinning eagerly.
Reynard leaned forward and stuck his head through the folds. "Whoa nelly, you weren't kidding! You've really outdone yourself this time!"
"That's good, really good. I was ready to scrap the entire thing and start over if you didn't like it, but this way is much more convenient. Though I'm afraid it's not quite finished yet."
"Really? What's missing?"
"Well, I'm not sure yet where to include the cappuccino machine. I know you work late nights, so I thought it courteous to-"
"What the hell is this?!"
Reynard pulled his head out of the curtain again, both he and Hareison turning to face the fennec fox behind them. "Are you shitting me?!" Finnick roared. "Now the secret project has a secret project?!"
"Greetings, my height-challenged friend!" Hareison said politely. "How would you feel about a pair of extendable legs?"
"That sounds pretty cool actually, I've always wanted-wait, NO! Who are you anyway?!"
"Dr. Thompkin Hareison, provider of mechanical marvels. My resume includes such employers as Dr. Wondertainment, the Felidae Infernum, the dapper fox here-"
Finnick glared at said dapper fox and pointed sharply at the hare. "You can't just bring in somebody new now! The hell's wrong with you?!"
"Do you want the short list, or-?"
"Hey, what's in here?"
More voices echoed down the room behind them.
"Oh, guests! I'll make tea!" Hareison scurried off.
"Radar, did you leave the entrance to the secret lab open?" Reynard scolded.
"I followed your scent here, dumbass! How secret do you think you can get?!"
"Looks like there's something secret in here!" another voice shouted.
"What's behind that curtain?"
"Someone set up another betting board!"
"DON'T YOU DARE!" Finnick yelled.
A lot going on in this chapter, I know. I guess that's what happens when you skip a month, a move we made for a multitude of reasons. Healing everyone up, allowing new characters to come in, and giving the Lang Family enough time to realistically build the entirety of Wilde Times were chief among them. Also so that one time we skipped a week back in Chapter 10 wasn't the ONLY time. That would've been awkward.
One of the most fun parts of this chapter was coming up with all the other police chiefs of Zootopia, and making it clear why Bogo isn't terribly fond of them. Bushfire has already appeared back in the Outback arc and Catano is yet another reinterpretation of a cut movie character, but Sanders, Gongheart, Pismo, Farrow, and Woolworth were all designed by Mind Jack. They're a quirky bunch, but it was important to make sure they had actual solid points for denying Bogo's proposal instead of just looking like a bunch of incompetent idiots. (Except for Woolworth, who actually is an incompetent idiot.)
Last on the list for new characters is Dr. Thompkin Hareison, also created by Jack. He was heavily inspired by the Mad Hatter (the Johnny Depp version) and despite only being introduced now, finally answers the question of where the heck Reynard (and Lucy) was getting all of this high-tech mad science crap, including the former's iconic cane.
Wilde Times is something I'm sure is familiar to anyone in touch with the cut locations from the film, being a pred-only amusement park that Nick opened to screw the rules and let uncollared predators run free. Obviously, this version is...quite a bit different, but it will serve as the main setting for the climax and we have many, many plans for it. By the way, HUGE shoutout to J Shute for completely and utterly nailing his speculation on the HB Project, not only correctly guessing what the letters stood for, but also that the project would be Wilde Times. Smaller, but still pretty big shoutouts for DrummerMax64 and The Grey Coincidence for guessing just the former.
With all that to digest, next time the final arc of Born to Be Wilde, the Reynard arc, officially begins.
And no, we did not plan for this revelation about Nick's 33rd birthday to fall on Chapter 33, but boy did that work out nicely!
