Due to some confusion from people about names a quick summary will be at the end of this chapter - The Author

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"Shawn... What the hell are you doing?" I ask, resting my head in my paws due to the fact I can't watch anymore.

"I'm expressing myself! You have an issue!?" He replies, going right back to his idiotic act.

I had stumbled across him infront of the Hospital, a pocket sign in hand and an empty bottle of Irish whiskey nearby. He was passionately waiving the sign, which read 'ZGH, Buy one treatment, get your next free!'

He's drunk and advertising his job, jeez... eh, let's have some fun while we're here shall we...

"Shawn, you know this is highly unrealistic," I begin, catching his drunken attention. "you know the hospital would never offer free treatments, the American healthcare system is based on crippling debts, here let me help."

I take the sign from him, flipping it and grabbing a can of spray paint from the back seat of my Challenger. I quickly write a new message, admiring my work afterwards, a drunken Shawn looking on in awe.

"ZGH, the only hospital in Zootopia that you won't worry about the bill." He reads, I hold up a finger and pull out a marker, writing some fine print at the bottom. "You will not worry about the bill because of the painkillers that will make you unaware of the bill for several days."

"Say the red text loud and proud, I'm gonna go have a chat with your boss." I say, patting him on the back and wandering off towards the ER.

-0-

"The fitness graham pacer test is a multistage arob..."

I rub my forehead, looking over at Clawhouser with an unimpressed look on my face, before going back to the paperwork on my desk, having to fill out An incident report after a drug dealer claimed police abuse due to him being tackled. After he drew a gun. On three cops.

The subject then drew a consealed pistol, prompting Officer Fowler and myself to tackle the subject to prevent any discharge of said weapon, in the process the subject suffered several bruises and a broken arm, the subject was given medical attention in a timely manner and was not subjected to any undue burden...

"CLAWHOUSER!!!" I hear yelled from across the atrium. I look up, realizing it's not Bogo, before turning towards the front desk just in time to see Clawhouser jump out from behind it, immediately followed by an Arctic wolf impacting Clawhouser's still spinning chair.

Cameron stands back up, and it doesn't take a psychiatric doctor to know what he's thinking before he vaults the desk, returning to chaseing Clawhouser around the desk in circles. It continues for a good while, all the while a crowd of nightshift officers, random civilians, and the EMT crew based in the building place bets on how it will end. I notice Wolford looking at his phone, and I glance at the screen to catch a bet placed by the Chief.

"Clawhouser, what did you do?" I ask as Clawhouser makes yet another revolution of the desk.

"Meme... same I sent to you... may have pushed it... a bit too far!" He replies, having to split the response into sections as he continues circling the desk.

I feel a tap on my leg, turning around to find a noctule bat standing behind me.

"How can I help you?" I ask, turning away from the chase and offering my hand for the mammal to hop on.

"Yes I'd like to make a report about a drunken Fox infront of the hospital with a picket sign." The bar informs, my mind quickly goes to the photo Cameron shared with the department earlier tonight.

"Yea that's the ERs Trauma Surgeon, hes... I'll go take him home."

-0-

The birds are chirping, the sun is glowing in the sky, such a peaceful day in Zooto...

Gas gas gas!

I'm gonna step on the gas

Tonight I'll fly and be your lover

Yeah yeah yeah

I'll be so quick as a flash

And I'll be your hero

The music fades in and out as a 1970 black and red Dodge Challenger drifts around the street corner, followed closely by a red 1985 Jeep CJ7 and a red and yellow 1969 Ford Mustang Boss 302 after that.

Inside the lead muscle car, Cameron Robertson sits comfortably, putting his foot down as the engine roars on the straightaway, if he didn't have his aviator sunglasses on, his piercing green-blue eyes would be seen scanning the road ahead and the rear view mirror. One hand is rested on the top of the steering wheel, the other resting on the gear shift, which he moves every now and then as he comes to corners or straights.

In the Jeep, Shawn Hagler grins as the Jeep roars. Under the hood he had replaced the original 2.5 litre gasoline engine with a V8 turbo diesel, the output pushing the refurbished Jeep to its limits. He grins as he sees the Challenger infront of him slow as it approaches another corner, his hands and feet move fast, taking the Jeep onto the inside curb, pushing past the Challenger with inches to spare, he barely hears the string of curses from the open window of the Challenger. He pushes his baseball cap further onto his head as he maxes the RPM on the fourth gear, hitting the clutch and shifting into fifth before putting the pedal down once again.

Taking up the rear, Nick Wilde watches the match between the speedy and controllable Challenger and the Jeep, he sees his opportunity and begins his move, reving the engine and shifting gears. His eyes dart between the two vehicles infront of him, the Challenger once again passing the Jeep, with a not so kind hand gesture being exchanged from the open Jeep. He goes for it, pushing the Mustang to its limits, managing to finally pass the Jeep but remains stuck behind the Challenger, the view of sunglasses very often glancing into the rear view mirror indicating the fact that the Challenger will not allow the Mustang to pass willingly.

Behind the pack, Logan White sits behind the wheel of his racing blue 1977 Holden LX Torana, the Australian built vehicle tearing down the road, his eyes watching the three way brawl going on a few hundred meters ahead of him.

"Olivia are you sure about this?" He asks nervously, eyes flipping from the road to the various bottles in the passenger seat, the radio mounted in the dash lighting up almost instantly afterwards.

"Mate, the second you hit that switch you're switching from good 'ol gasoline to essentially jet fuel with NOS mixed in." The radio crackles, the darting eyes not slowing down.

"That wasn't the question."

He jerks his wheel to the right, avoiding a box blown from a roadside table onto the road, spinning his tires to avoid a roll as the vehicle begins to skid sideways. Counterstering hard, he manages to get the vehicle back on track before shit hit the fan.

"Straightaway coming up, the second the wheel is straight, flip the switch and fucking RIP IT!" The radio practically screams.

Once the wheel is straight, Logan flips a switch, underneath the vehicle, a servo switches supply lines from the fuel tank to a tank in the trunk, meanwhile several valves open, NOS beginning to flood the engine. Logan's foot goes down, and he muscle car moves.

If Logan didn't know what was happening he'd swear that he'd been rear-ended, the speedometer steadily climbing. 80 kilometres per hour, 90, 100, 110, 120, 130, 140, 150, 160, 170, one hundred and eighty fucking kilometres per hour, Logan was literally flying over every bump in the road, the three mile long straight coming to a close shortly.

Half a kilometre behind him, the trio of vehicles formerly competing for first place were still competing for second, all amaised at the blue vehicle that had rocketed past, fire jetting out of the exhaust pipes on the side of the vehicle, the muffler having long been removed.

-0-

"Logan."

"Yes Cameron?" Logan asks, clutching his first place trophy.

"I was wondering what the fuck that was." I ask, turning the second place medal in my paw."

"Some modifications."

"Mods were banned!" Nick says, the evening light glinting off of his bronze medal.

"Mods were banned if made within the last decade... I made those mods in '94." He explains, wrapping his arm around Olivia.

"Olivia, how long have you known Logan?" Shawn asks, grumpy about his participation ribbon.

"Since High school, why?" She responds, drinking a cider she got from somewhere.

"Did you help him make those modifications?"

"No, they were done when we started going out, how do you think we won me over in the first place?"

-0-

Chief Bogo, many mammals had a negative opinion of the water buffalo due to his hard exterior, but every one of the officers in his Precinct knew that beneath that hard, cold exterior, was a mammal who cared for each of them, and would do anything to keep them safe.

Bogo was currently seated at his desk, sorting though files while he left the TV on. Zootopia was having a charity race, any mammal employed by the city could enter and bring their own vehicle, first place got a trophy and a cash prize for their place of employment, second got a promise from the government that their place of employment would be next on the city's list, and third got the next spot on that list, and continuing down the list to tenth.

He smiled as he heard White won, the pride and got the ZPD the cash prize, with Robertson and Wilde taking second and third meant that Precinct one would be getting much needed extra funding.

Muting the TV he turns his attention solely to the files on his desk. MIRs, Major Incident Reports were the culmination of the reports of the last two year's worst police related issues, often the Chief would only have one or two of these on his desk, this time he had four.

Flipping open the first, the missing mammals case. He rubs his forehead as he flips page after page, reading every report from the missing person report of the first to disappear- one of the mayor's bodyguards, all the way to Hopps's report from the press conference.

Setting the file aside, he opens the next, the Savage Predator Terror, as it had been publicly named, internally the ZPD referred to it as one of the biggest shitshows that could have spiraled out of control. Over two hundred hate crimes, ranging from vandalism to murder, five riots, a dozen or so protests, millions of dollars in total cost. Bogo was glad that Hopps and that idiot Wilde had brough Bellwether down, and that she was now on death row for several dozen terror charges.

The next file, Ximetz. The folder that Cameron had provided, consisting of Ximetz's many many warrants, the death certificates of Officer Murphy, Ximetz, and the Victims in Zootopia, Bogo was not in the slightest saddened that the lunatic wasn't behind bars, and was instead cremated and his ashes dumped somewhere unimportant.

The last file, never brought to the media's attention, never brought to the light of day after the file was closed and placed in the drawer, this was the first MIR in that drawer for the two year period.

A year and a half prior, two months prior to Judy Hopps enrolling in the ZPA

"Settle down!" Bogo booms, the officers in the room settling down. Bogo scans the room, finding the enthusiastic faces of all of his officers, except one. Officer Blitzen was the brunt of most jokes in the department since his enrollment, the reindeer barely got accepted to Precinct One, and had messed up slightly on his first few days, leading to the other officers teasing him constantly. He had taken the jokes, never lashing back out. Bogo did nothing to stop them, he drew the line at threatening or harassing, but jokes were fine, if Blitzen would file a complaint that would change, but that was yet to happen.

Bogo listed all the assignments, eventually just leaving Blitzen and another one of Blitzens classmates, Prancer, a fellow reindeer but more liked by the fellow officers, he was the worst to Blitzen.

"Prancer, Blitzen, parking duty." The Chief didn't like to assign parking duty unless it was a punishment or it was a new recruit with nobody to assign them to, but all the other cases were taken and no veh-

"Why am I being paired with the fuckup!" Prancer yells, a few of the recently departed officers overhearing and stopping to listen.

"Officer Prancer, there is no oth-"

"HES A USELESS TOOL! HELL HE WILL PROBABLY FUCK UP GIVING SOMEONE A PARKING TICKET, I DON'T KNOW WHY YOU ALLOW HIM TO REMAIN HERE, SEEING AS HE'D BE BETTER WORKING SOMEWHERE THAT SUITS HIM, THE MENTAL ASYLUM FOR INSTSNCE!" The rant continues.

Bogo grew angrier and angrier as the rant went on, this wasn't joking, it was full out disrespect and slander. He began to open his mouth to reply, the words beginning to leave his mouth. "Officer Pra-"

*BANG*

Prancer fell to the floor, the bullet having passed through his skull, back to front, the bullet imbedded somewhere in the wall behind Bogo, his face in pure shock, looking at the shooter.

"Blitzen, lower the weapon." The Chief says in a low yet authoritarian voice, the door trying to open, but being locked, procedure.

Blitzen held his service pistol in a shaking hand, mumbling something under his breath as he turns the gun in his hand, looking at it.

"Officer. Set down the weapon." Bogo continues, his voice calming in nature, Bogo knew the look in the officer's eyes, he was mad, and seeing the presumably dead Prancer infront of the Chief, he wasn't about to anger Blitzen.

Blitzen looked the Chief in the eyes, the door still trying to be forced open, tears welling in his eyes, there wasn't a look of anger, there was one of sorrow, regret. The Chief could do nothing as in one calculated yet shaky motion, Blitzen raised the pistol, resting it against his temple.

"BLI-"

*BANG*

The door was finally forced open, McHorn quickly taking stock of the situation, Bogo did nothing as he stood frozen in shock, the blood mess infront of him.

Present Day

Two dead officers, one murdered, not without cause, but certainly avoidable, the other by their own hand. Bogo has immediately stated that teasing of fellow officers was to be stopped at once, and if any officer reported another for such acts it would be dealt with brutally.

Bogo lowers his head as he thinks about how the rules are suddenly forgotten when it was heard a rabbit was assigned to Precinct one, even he joined in. The second Hopps 'resigned' he had brought the hammer down, he had since removed six officers for such acts.

"Chief!" The radio on the desk crackles, Clawhouser's voice cutting into the silence.

"Yes Clawhouser?" Bogo replies, setting the files into a drawer on the desk, locking it and placing the key in his pocket.

"Precinct 4 just called, said that they had two officers of ours detained." He continues, Bogo having an unimpressed look on his face when Clawhouser was finished.

-0-

"Ohhhhhhhh, what do we do with a drunken sailor, what do we do with a drunken sailor, what do we do with a drunken sailor, early in the morning..." Logan slurs, getting, somehow managing to keep his ragtag quartet of holding cell inmates to sing in harmony, I rub my forehead, seeing Shawn wrap an arm around Logan and the other around the coyote on his other side.

I rub the now subsiding welt on the back of my skull, planning my revenge for the two of them.

Half an Hour Ago

"Shawn, Logan, her down from there!" I yell, shaking my fist at the two climbing a radio tower.

"COME AND GET US OLD MAN!" Logan yells back down, Shawn tossing a half filled beer bottle at me.

"I'm five years younger then you!" I respond, dodging the bottle, which smashes on the asphalt.

Logan responds by sticking out his tounge and blowing like a kindergartener.

Jesus feckin Christ, if I make it to the Bog tonight I'm going to get tips from Olivia on how to manage these two.

My thoughts are interrupted by a police klaxon sounding behind me, I turn to find a police cruiser, although I don't recognize the officers inside.

"What's going on here?" The driver of the cruiser asks.

"Well you see, when they said they wanted to look at the stars from up here, I thought they meant sit on the trunk of the car and look up, not climb the damn tower to look." I explain, taking a step to the side as I hear another bottle whistle through the air.

"How many bottles do they have?" The other Officer asks, to which I just shrug.

I open my mouth to reply, taking a step to avoid another whistle, finding myself having moved into the path of the bottle after it smashes over the back of my head. By the time I hit the ground I'm already out cold.

The Present

I clutch the pillow tighter around my head as the quartet starts up again, I curse the manufacturers of beer that they know so many sea shanties.

I hear the electronic buzz of the cell block door opening, to which I raise my head slightly, still holding the pillow over my ears. I find a very unhappy looking Bogo standing next to the officers that had responded to the radio tower.

"Evening Chief, here for the great entertainment?" I ask, walking over to the bars and slightly releasing the pillow from my ears, wincing at the lights.

"Has he been checked for a concussion?" Bogo asks the officer to his left, to which the officer just shrugs.

"Sir, I will accept parking duty for a month if you can get me out of this cell, doesn't even have to be release, just somewhere I can get rid of this headache." I plea, still not realizing I probably have a concussion.

Bogo just sighs, waiving a hoof over at the criminal quartet. Who are going through "A Drunken Sailor" again.

"Sir, excuse my French but I have zero fucking idea."

-0-

The bullpen, the room where the day started, otherwise it was usually empty, but at this present moment it contained two mammals, Arron Wolford and Laura Fangmeyer.

"I mean, what are the odds that were the only couple in this Precinct?" Arron asks, Laura instantly begins averting her attention, to which Arron picks up on.

"Who and how long have you known?" He grumbles, sitting on one of the tables in the front of the room.

"Nick and Judy." She replies, sitting on the desk opposite Wolford.

His face just obtains a look that reads 'you're shutting me' as he stares at her, mind racing. "Nick and Judy is a given, I mean they don't even hide it anymore."

"The only 'evidence' for any others is a conversation Cameron overheard, but he was drunk and was singing karaoke." She says as she pulls out a notepad and tosses it to him.

"What was he singing?" He asks as he reads the scribbled note.

"Rock the Casbah and he nailed it, but not the point, the point is we have nothing to fear about bringing our relationship public, I mean half the city probably knows by now."

Unbeknown to the two lovers chatting in the bullpen, Wolford's mic was stuck on.

"Also have you seen the way Bogo glances at Ben sometimes, I think it's the best!

I know! It's like they're meant for each other."

Cameron and Logan just stared at each other as the conversation turned away from the chatting pair, both of them distinctly aware to the door on the third floor that just opened. Cameron slowly raised to his feet, inching his way towards the office door.

"Also Jessica and Sydney! Yea that was the one Cameron mentioned!

Yeaaaaa, that makes sense, no wonder their such good friends am I right?"

Clawhouser's jaw was already on the floor, the only possible way for it to go further down was for the floor to cave out beneath him. His attention quickly turned upwards as four different mammals entered the atrium, all darting towards the bullpen.

Cameron tried to take a corner at the end of the hall of offices, instead loosing his balance and sliding several feet into the atrium on his back before slowly picking himself up with a few pained groans. Jessica and Sydney burst through the front doors, Jessica helping Cameron back to his feet as they defend apon the bullpen. The elevator doors also opened, stepping out and giving Clawhouser a knowing look, he turned towards the bullpen, where the other three officers were impatiently waiting for him.

-0-

"Man, we should probably get back to work, we've been talking here for a little while." Aaron comments, looking at the watch lazily resting on his left wrist.

"Yea, Hey your radio looks a bit snagged." Laura replies, adjusting the radio on his vest, both of them oblivious to the open door and four mammals watching them.

The clearing of someone's throat alerted the two to the others presence, their faces a multitude of images, ranging from annoyance on Cameron's, to fury, the fire in Bogo's eyes burning a hole in Laura's skull.

"Ahhhh. Shit."

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Characters:

Cameron Robertson - Arctic Wolf, Officer at Precinct One

Shawn Hangler - Grey Fox, ER Trauma Surgeon at Zootopia General Hospital, Cameron's best friend and roommate

Logan White - Dingo, Officer at Precinct one - Cameron's partner in crime (law)

Olivia Chow - Kangaroo, owner of the Grog Bog bar, Logan's girlfriend.

Oswald (Ozzie, Oz, The Wizard of Oz) - Tasmanian Devil, bouncer for the Grog Bog, and one mysterious motherfucker.

Assorted Others (Mainly friends of the characters listed above) - Paris, Ethan, Jessica, Sydney, Pulezo