Swamp Folk

Bogo stood at the podium as he did every morning. "Next on the docket, there's been a rash of corporate vandalism: several boats from Furner Broadcasting and ZBS, along with a substantial amount of filming equipment has been destroyed on Margay Key in West Bayou..."

"Not it!" Judy jumped as Nick, Frank McHorn and Daniel Snarlov all barked out at once.

She was all the more shocked when the Chief's normal no-nonsense glare was tempered with, sympathy? "Setting aside the fact that we in the ZPD are not a democracy, I need aquatic mammals for this one." Judy's puzzlement turned to concern when Lt. Higgins seemed to pale to an ahsen shade of grey. "Anderson, Fangmeyer, head out to the second and coordinate with river patrol. Wilde, cell watch. McHorn, Snarlov, report to traffic enforcement. Wolford, you and Hopps have civilian outreach. PR will tell you where.

Judy couldn't begin to fathom why every officer except Wade Anderson and Nadine Fangmeyer seemed so relieved at not taking the RFD investigation. She'd have to pump Frank for info while they were out.

...

Frank proved unhelpful as he had only ever gone to the Rainforest District for the annual Jazz Festival along the festive Canal d'eau Rouge. She resigned herself to having to interrogate Nick and enduring his endless smugness at yet again educating the country bunny. They arrived at the Precinct House to find Wade and Nadine huddled on the floor in front of Clawhauser's kiosk. They were surrounded by the entire force. Even Bogo stood nearby with a pained look on his muzzle.

"...then they let the snakes loose. The patrol boats from the Second barely stuck around long enough to pick us up." Officer Fangmeyer finished what was apparently her and Anderson's harrowing tale while her stepbrother rubbed her back.

Judy saw Nick at the outskirts of the crowd and headed over. "Alright Slick; I need to know what's going on here. What's in Bayou that's so terrible as to stop our investigation?"

Nick gave a tired huff. "There's no investigation; we," he gestured collectively to the gathered officers, "already know what's happening and who's doing it." He noted her expectant expression, and seemed about to start the expected tease when he slumped. "The Hopfield and McConey families; swamp rabbits. They pretty much own half the Bayou. Aside from Icthio-farms like 'Bubba Hump's' and the Trinity College for Herpetology, they don't really like outsiders. Doesn't matter who you are, you're unwelcome and they will let you know."

She gawked for a second. "You're telling me this precinct, First Precinct, 'The best of the best of the best with honors, Sir!'" the last said with an exaggerated parade-ground tone that got everyone's attention, "have been stymied by a bunch of Pentacostal Hillbilly Hares?"

Her outburst drew the attention of the entire precinct: Higgins and Snarlov looked shame-faced, while Anderson and Fangmeyer looked incensed. Bogo simply looked curious. "You believe you can do better, Officer Hopps?"

Nick could actually see Judy doubling-down on her claim when she turned to face the Chief. "If you're willing to give me until Thursday sir, then yes I can."

There was a hush in the atrium. "And if you can't?" The Cape Buffalo crossed his arms.

Judy assumed a parade rest stance. "Then I will personally, and publically, apologize to every officer here present. Sir."

...

Nick sat in the back of a canoe with Judy and a bag she refused to tell him about but insisted he carry. "If at any point someone demands I squeal like a pig, I'm doing my best impression of you."

"Oh stop whining Nick." Judy relished the opportunity to snark at her partner. "Besides, our escort's here." Nick looked around in confusion until he noticed several wakes in the water. A little closer inspection revealed them to be a dozen rabbit heads just above the water. Judy spoke up just as Nick started to panic. "I know you Pentacostal types practice eschatology, but unless you're here to lead us to whomever I need to talk to, then this really will be the End of Days for you." Her gaze never left the shore of the island they were approaching.

Amazingly to Nick, they were guided to a small boat dock where a crew silently helped them secure the canoe. Nick secured the package and they were led to mobile trailer office. An aged, notch-eared rabbit looked at them suspiciously. Judy returned the impassive look for a moment, then emptied the bag Nick had been hauling around onto the table; it was a glazed clay half gallon jug with a waxed cloth and wood stopper. "Sugar-beet Vodka, my grandfather's recipe."

Nick stared slack jawed as the ears of nearly every rabbit in the room perked up. The old buck considered the jug for a moment, then whistled sharply and waved with three fingers. A younger, stocky buck came up with three cups and three shot glasses in his paws, and a nondescript brown wine bottle with a ceramic stopper tucked under one arm. "Pecan Brandy; the 'Angel's Share' as it were."

Nick was familiar enough with 'legally adjacent' etiquette to know he couldn't really refuse when a shot of Hopps' offering and a measure of Brandy were poured for everyone. The Bunnyburrow rotgut burned like the judging fires of hell, while the brandy might as well have been liquid sin. He was startled out of his reverie when Judy spoke up. "Alright then, let's talk about your kin trashing a couple of thousand dollars of film equipment."

...

"You're sure about this Hopps?" The Chief eyed his smallest officer sitting across from him.

She nodded. "I gave the security footage over to Cyber-crime to check that it hasn't been doctored, but it looks like not only did the studios not contact the McConey Fish Hatchery for permission to film, they damaged one of the nursery nets while trespassing. Cleatus McConey quoted around $150,000 in damage and lost revenue. FBS' $12,000 in lost equipment is a drop in the bucket compared to what they did in Margay Key."

Bogo snorted. "Alright, once we verify Furner is in the wrong I'll give this over to Oates and let him handle the studios. One more thing Hopps," Judy stopped in her efforts to leave the office, "where is Nick?" He saw the panic cross her face for a moment. "This isn't going to turn into another 'Doof' incident, is it?"

Her ears flagged and she chuckled weakly.

...

Two swamp bucks looked at the floor of the office trailer.

"Hey Jethro?"

"Yeah Ezekiel?"

"What should we do about him?"

Nick lay curled up on the floor of the office hugging two empty bottles. A two toned 'hoot' sound could be heard every time he exhaled.

"You heard the doe; she said to let 'im sleep it off, so we let 'im sleep it off. You might want to distract ol' Jade ferrin she decides to 'snuggle' 'im. I don't rightly wanna find out what the country doe would do iffin we lost her fox."

"Rekkon yer right Jethro." The two rabbits set about distracting the Black King Snake that had been moving towards the sleeping todd.