Another day, another 200 dollars. Despite the whole situation at Jumbeaux's Café, Finnick and I were able to stay on schedule and we sold enough popsicles to feed a whole slice of lemmings—which we did. It's the easiest money we made in a long time.

After selling the sticks to the foremen in Little Rodentia, Finnick and I drive back to an empty alley so we can split the money. I count the dollars as I hand them down to him, and once it's even I pocket my own share of the money, eating one of the leftover popsicles that I have kept for myself. Hey, this business isn't easy work, I deserve a little treat once in a while.

"Way to work that diaper, big guy." I say to Finnick as he takes off the elephant costume. He hops up into his van, saying nothing to me. He must be mad about what I did at the ice cream shop. Only one way to be sure. "Hey, no kiss bye-bye for Daddy?" I tease him.

He spits out the pacifier as he slams the door shut, turning to me with a cold glare. Yep, he's mad. "You kiss me tomorrow, I'll bite your face off!" He warns, starting the van. He puts on a pair of shades and starts blasting his weird hip-hop music. "Ciao." He says more calmly before driving away.

I might have gone too far by making him cranky, but then again I can't recall a time when he's ever been, you know, happy. Well, now that work is done I guess all that's left for me to do is wander the streets for the millionth time.

But as I watch Finnick drive off, I suddenly hear a voice saying something to me. And as I turn my head, I see the bunny from earlier. Only this time she's not quite as friendly. She must've finally gotten wise and realize what really happened at the café.

"Well, I stood up for you, and you lied to me." She says, stomping her foot. "You liar!"

I'm not intimidated by her, if anything her anger is kind of amusing. "It's called a hustle, sweetheart." I say simply. But then I try to act innocent and shift blame to someone else, "And I'm not the liar. He is!" I point in the other direction. The second she looks away, I bolt.

Well, I almost get away with it. But I don't turn the corner fast enough and I can hear her shouting. She catches up to me quickly and walks by my side, but I barely even glance at her. "Alright slick Nick, you're under arrest!"

"Really? For what?" I ask, chewing on what's left of my popsicle. This should be good.

"Gee, I don't know. How about selling food without a permit, transporting undeclared commerce across borough lines, false advertising..." She lists off. Damn, what a shame for her that she wouldn't get to see any excitement today. Does she really think this is my first day on the job?

I pull out the certificate from my pocket and hold it up in front of her face. "Permit," I turn it around, "receipt of declared commerce," I quickly pull it away, stopping in my path as we reach a crosswalk. "And I didn't falsely advertise anything. Take care."

"You told that mouse the popsicle sticks were redwood!" She accuses, pointing her finger at me.

Ah, she heard that. Well, it's still not false advertising, 'cause I wasn't wrong. I hand her my finished popsicle stick, "That's right. Red wood. With a space in the middle. Wood that is red."

The crosswalk light changes and I make my way across, yet she still follows me. I'm not sure why the conversation has to go on, but if that's how it has to be. "You can't touch me, Carrots. I've been doing this since I was born." I say to her, ignoring the group of wildebeest that's crossing the street as well.

"You're gonna wanna refrain from calling me 'Carrots'." The bunny says threateningly.

"My bad, I just naturally assumed you came from some little carrot-choked Podunk, no?" I look back at her, seeing she struggles to get through the wildebeest. I almost laugh, but she makes it out before it can become entertaining.

She catches back up to me as we reach the other side of the street. "Uh, no. Podunk is in Deerbrooke County and I grew up in Bunnyburrow." She says, weirdly proud of that. If she's still trying to be intimidating, it's not working.

I was right before, she's not from here, which explains a lot. And I guess she has yet to face disappointment. Well Carrots, prepare to have your mind blown.

"Okay, tell me if this story sounds familiar." I begin, snatching a few blueberries from a food stand. I'm pretty sure the bunny sees it, but I could care less. Stealing a couple berries isn't what's going to put me in jail. "Naive little hick with good grades and big ideas decides, 'Hey, look at me, I'm gonna move to Zootopia, where predators and prey live in harmony and sing Kumbaya'! Only to find—whoopsie," I turn around to look at her, still walking down the sidewalk. "We don't all get along. And that dream of becoming a big city cop? Double whoopsie! She's a meter maid."

I turn back around, but I catch a glimpse of her reaction. I must be right about this. I knew it.

"And whoopsie number three-sie, no one cares about her or her dreams. And soon enough those dreams die, and our bunny sinks into emotional and literal squalor, living in a box under a bridge. 'Til finally she has no choice but to go back home with that cute fuzzy-wuzzy little tail between her legs to become..." I pause, looking back at her once again. "You're from Bunnyburrow, is that what you said? So how about a carrot farmer?" I suggest, walking out from the little corner I didn't realize we walked into. "That sound about right?"

The bunny says nothing at first, but I know she's still trying to follow me. I hear her scramble around on the ground, avoiding being trampled by a bypassing rhino. "Be careful now," I warn her from a distance, "Or it won't just be your dreams getting crushed."

"Hey, hey!" She exclaims, running over to walk in front of me. "No one tells me what I can or can't be!" She declares, stopping in our path. It seems she doesn't realize there's wet cement under her. "Especially not some jerk who never had the guts to try to be anything more than a popsicle hustler!"

Eh, it's a lame comeback, but good effort. I bend down to her height so I can face her properly, giving her a smirk. "Alright look, everyone comes to Zootopia thinking they can be anything they want. Well, ya can't. You can only be what you are." I stand back up, gesturing between the two of us, "Sly fox, dumb bunny."

She glares at me, "I am not a dumb bunny."

The cement she's standing finally becomes noticeable, as now she sinks into it without even knowing—which just further proves my point.

"Right." I say, surprised she hasn't realized it yet. "And that's not wet cement."

She looks down in shock, and she's up to her knees in it by now. She tries to break loose, and it's hard not to laugh. But to be honest, I hardly laugh out loud at anything. It's more of an internal thing for me.

"You'll never be a real cop." I say as I walk passed the construction site. "You're a cute meter maid, though! Maybe a supervisor one day!" I look back at her one last time, turning behind a parked car, "Hang in there!"

Yes, I know it's a bit harsh. But she's going to find out eventually. This city crushes free-spirits like her, and I would know. I've seen it time and time again. It's not fair, but what about life is? Anyway, I had to give it to her straight. Sugarcoating doesn't do any good, and if she wants to be a city cop then she's going to have to face the music.

Besides, it's better she hears it from a stranger like me rather than someone who's opinion matters to her. And it's not like I'll ever have to see her again.

She is pretty cute, though. Too bad she's not my type.