AN: This one isn't funny. To be fair, neither were the first three chapters, but this one is especially not funny. I'm posting it anyways because I liked the premise. Also, as usual, there will be no value or content to any of this. Read at your own risk.

Chief Bogo was happy as he came into work that morning, not that he would let anyone know he that. He had assigned Officers Hopps and Wilde to parking duty for the past several weeks as a sort of punishment for their increasing number of indiscretions as of late. At least, that was the excuse the Chief had told them.

Truthfully, Bogo just needed a break. He had become a bit fed up with reading the pair's various reports on a near daily basis, so he took action to diminish the number of reports. It was notoriously hard to involve yourself with anything interesting or exciting when on parking duty. The job just did not lend itself towards that capacity.

This was for several reasons. The first being the quota that an officer was given to meet when on duty. Not that the Chief, or any other officer, would ever admit to there being a quota if asked by a member of the general public. If information got out that the people's public defenders had something like a ticket quota, there would be anarchy in the streets and brimstone raining from the sky. Even Officer Wilde knew to steer clear of that hornet's nest.

The second was because the area of town in which most officers spent there time ticketing was a well traveled, low crime area. The most illegal thing that happened there on a daily basis was shoplifting. So, as it should be, the Chief would get to plod along in his day of work with no unwanted interruptions, save the occasional case report from a different officer. Usually those were only contained a slight deviation from a protocol and he could happily sign off on them. The Chief felt content.

However, I'm narrating this, and in this story the Chief is used for cheap comedy and doesn't get to be happy, because then there wouldn't be any jokes in this story. Since there's no plot and everything that happens in these tales is completely unreasonable and over the top, there have to be bad jokes. Otherwise, I might actually have to write something serious.

And so, upon arriving to his office and sitting in his chair, the Chief spied two case reports sitting on his desk. The happiness he had felt that morning dissipated in an instant. Nothing was left inside of him except a deep sense of foreboding that only got worse as he continued to eye down the case reports.

The Chief tried to rationalize it for a moment. They didn't necessarily have to be reports from Officer Hopps and Wilde. He had read a few other reports from different officers in the past few weeks. They were probably just another set like that. But deep in his heart the Chief knew this to be a lie. He could feel it. He could feel the aura of insanity emanating from the reports.

He held his breath as he moved a hoof over to the top file, bringing it towards him in a very deliberate motion. He flipped it open and read the title.

…

From the desk of Officer Judy Hopps, November 12th, Arrest of Suspect Perry J. Smalls

…

"All you had to do was give animals tickets." The Chief groaned. "What is so difficult to understand about that?"

The report was dated for the previous day, meaning this was put on Bogo's desk sometime last night after he had returned to his home. Nighttime tended to bring out the career criminals as well as typically being more unfavorable for his officers. His jaw hardened as he continued to read the report.

…

Officer Wilde and myself were assigned parking duty, and had been exceeding our quota by a factor a three times the required amount. Officer Wilde voiced various concerns about our posting, and inquired if citing arthritis and an impaired ability to perform shadow puppets were adequate reasons to be given a different assignment.

While writing my 384th ticket of the night I heard a slight commotion. As an officer of the law it is my solemn and sworn duty to serve and protect, so I momentarily left my partner to investigate the disturbance. The noise came from the market center across the street. I was immediately suspicious, because the majority of the tourist shops in that particular district tend to close at 10:00pm.

Arriving at the site from which I had heard the noise, I found the suspect, a weasel later identified as Perry J. Smalls, grappling with a young otter, later identified as one Miss Otto, over her purse. I announced my presence to the suspect, at which point he fled the scene without the victim's handbag.

Ensuring the victim was safe and informing my partner of the situation over my radio, I began my pursuit of the suspect. He had a minor head start on me but I quickly caught up as he disappeared down main street. Officer Wilde radioed in to inform me he was en route to the scene and would shortly aid me in my pursuit.

I pursued the suspect into an institution where he attempted to hide. Officer Wilde arrived at the scene and together we located the suspect. He was quickly detained and moved to the precinct.

-Officer Judy Hopps

…

Chief Bogo raised an eyebrow. The brevity of the report was quite astonishing to him. It was especially sparse on details of the pursuit of the suspect once Hopps entered the institution, or even what the institution was. It was quite unlike Hopps to show anything but the utmost dedication and effort in her work, either, so the Chief highly doubted anything had been left out that was necessary information.

Furthermore, there was absolutely nothing that broke outstanding protocol in the report. The Chief was left scratching his head as he read the report, unsure of why records would ever put this on his desk. Maybe it was a mistake?

The Chief shrugged as he signed off on the report, deciding it was probably just a clerical error. He placed Hopps' report into the approved bin as he pulled the corresponding file he assumed to be Wilde's towards him. He let out a tired sigh. Even Wilde's normal reports tended to be infuriatingly…unique. They had to be read, though, as it was Bogo's job.

Adjusting his spectacles and ignoring the feeling of trepidation within his chest, the water buffalo began reading the report.

…

From the desk of Officer Nicholas "Foxy" Wilde, [Insert Date Here], Arrest of Suspect Perry J. Smalls (who was, in fact, killin' me)

…

On one level the Chief was irritated at Wilde's inability to take documentation seriously. On a deeper, intrinsic level, which he would never admit existed, he was incredibly disappointed in Wilde for making a wisecrack on easy, low-hanging fruit like the suspect's name.

I, as the narrator, agree completely.

It doesn't even make sense in that context. How was he "killin'" him? If he was going to quote a beloved movie he should have at least waited to use the quote until there was an appropriate moment. The suspect's name is Smalls, and what does the fox immediately do? He wastes the only joke there on the title.

Actually, that doesn't even sound like Nick Wilde. He's a clever and witty character. No, I blame the writer. He's the asshat who not only used an overused quote, but then wasted it immediately. That's just some of the most contrived bullshit I've ever had to narrate. Which is saying something, since I've had to narrate this whole story. The worst part is it wasn't even funny.

So fuck you, Author. Fuck you.

Oh, and Chief Bogo started reading again.

…

So we had parking duty today. And yesterday. And the day before. And the entire week before that. And the week before that. We've had it for four weeks now. Except this week it was mixed up a little and we got the night shifts! Thanks for that by the way, Chief Bogus. Now we get to deal with all the crazy people who hate our guts as well as the normal people who hate our guts.

Seriously, I've received more death threats in the last four weeks than the entire rest of my life combined. I had a kid walk up to me and tell me he hoped I died in a barn fire. Then his mom told him tire fires were harder to put out. So, the kid corrects himself and tells me that he hoped I died in a tire fire in a barn. Some wholesome family bonding there.

Somehow my partner is still standing after six hours of this. She gave out like 300 tickets and was still going strong. I'm nocturnal and I still felt outpaced.

Anyways, I was having a conversation with a hyena I ticketed who was telling me about she was going to find and eviscerate me, and mutilate my corpse, and yada, yada, yada, when I see Fluff's ears perk up. Not the normal perk up when she hears me walking towards her, but the hyper alert stiff-eared perk up that happens when her midichlorians tingle because she felt a disturbance in the law.

So Carrots just does her thing and shoots off across the street dodging cars like she's playing Frogger, and leaving me to deal with another angry citizen. Real swell partner I have there. Really feel the love.

So within like ten seconds I get a call from Carrots telling me she's in a pursuit of the suspect, Perry J. Smalls, and she gave me directions to where the scene of an attempted purse snatching occurred. I would rather she had given me directions to where she was, or told me what the suspect looked like, or had let me in on this before she bounced away in the first place, but guess not.

That would've been too easy though. I made my way over to the scene and found this tiny otter gal cowering against a wall. She's clutching what must've been the ugliest purse I've ever seen in my life. It was vomit colored and covered in sequins. It was gaudy. Honestly, I would've just let Smalls take it from me if I owned it.

I do the normal song and dance with the victim, who, by the way, was really shook up. She was crying and sobbing and all that. I don't think she lived in Zootopia very long. I mean, it was just a mugging. That's a pretty average thing. I comforted her for a couple minutes, telling her where the patrol car was and asking her which way my partner went.

Of course, I really didn't need to ask because all I had to do was follow the trail of destruction Officer Rent-A-Cop leaves whenever she's chasing a slippery perp.

…

The Chief rubbed his temples. Hopps was an excellent cop but her exuberance could often times lead to some…collateral damage. Bogo quietly pulled a slip of paper from his desk, preparing to write an apology letter to the affected parties. If a simple purse snatching turned into having to apologize for a riot, he was going to be very, very annoyed.

…

She managed not to damage anything not owned by the city this time around.

…

The Chief sent up a silent prayer of thanks.

…

I tracked her down main street. Didn't really think I'd end up catching her before she got to Smalls, but I did. And was it ever worth it.

She had sped down all these dark alleys chasing the guy, so I'm going to guess she wasn't too focused on where she was going. I wound up seeing her running into a night club while flashing her badge to get past the bouncer. I mean, I knew Carrots could be wild, I just expected her to save for when we got back home tonight.

That's not the best part, though. The best part was what nightclub it was. This makes up for four weeks of parking duty a thousand times over. Officer Hip-Hoppity-Hopps had just run into "Primal Desire."

…

Chief Bogo was not familiar with the club, but the club scene was never really his forte. However, since it made Wilde excited and happy, it made the Chief very, very worried and unhappy.

…

"Primal Desire" is club that caters to Predator-Prey relationships. It also has a heavy domination motif, and the people who go there really like their knockoff leather. Which is kind of messed up, now that I think about it. The owner of the place is a cow. Wonder how that goes over whenever she walks into the place.

I used to go there sometimes. It's wasn't really my preference, but there's this one bartender who mixed the best drinks. He made this one cocktail he called McKinley's Delight. That drink was worth taking the risk of somebody actually seeing me in that place.

It's part rye whiskey, part sweet vermouth, part cherry brandy, and part absinthe. A lot of absinthe. There might be other stuff in it too. Honestly, I don't know. I just know I've never left that place able to walk a straight line. It's kind of sad I had to break that tradition tonight, but if I passed out on the floor wearing a cop uniform there, I might actually wake up tied up in someone's personal dungeon. Consent is a loose term 'round these parts.

Anyways, I tried to chase the rabbit into the place, but the bouncer stopped me when I flashed my badge. He asked me if I was packing. By the way he was looking at me, I don't think he meant my tranquilizer. As tempting as it was to accept the advances of the hippo eight times my size, I had to decline for my partner's sake. Maybe he's more your type, Chief? Do you have room for a little love in your life? I thought so, so I attached his number to the file just under my report.

…

Chief Bogo stared at the slip of paper he had pulled from under Wilde's report. It read,

"Call Me Stud!

1-800-BIG-JIMMY

XOXO,

Big Jimmy

(But you can just call me Jim, honey)

P.S. - Your foxey boy is a real sweet-talker"

It's said that the Chief's fox-shaped tumor grew three sizes that day.

…

So I get into the club and I see Carrots just standing there. Her foot was thumping a hole in the floor and she was scanning the room. Probably looking for the suspect. It wouldn't be hard to hide there if you did it right. Especially with all the bigger mammals in the room. I was so looking forward to seeing her reaction to this place when I found her, but she hadn't even realized what kind of club this was yet, which was even better. Days like this only come along so often. They're the days I live for.

I talked to Whiskers and she told me the suspect was a weasel. I didn't even need that information, because the guy was the only one not dressed up like he was going to a midnight showing of Rocky Horror Picture Show. Pointed him out to Officer Speedwagon and she was off.

Oh, she ran through a mosh pit. A literal mosh pit. Like, she was doing flips and jumps over people and sliding under some of the larger predators legs. Some of the mammals were whistling at her. I think most of them thought she was just roleplaying when she started shouting about the law and making an arrest. She got a lot of attention from a lot of the mammals there. Never has my night gone from a 0 to a perfect 10 so quickly.

She ends up tackling Perry J. Small Brain against the bar counter and cuffing him. Some of the looks people were giving her after that display of athletics were, well, mortifying for her and amazing for me. The smell of the room after that definitely lived up to the nightclub's name. Then there was the look on her face after the adrenaline wore off and she realized exactly where we were.

Only a benevolent and loving creator could have given me a gift like that.

I was going to walk up and tease her about it all, but then it got even better somehow. That little weasel, Smalls, in all his glory and forethought, yelled a time honored and favorite phrase of many petty criminals: "[Redacted: Expletive] the police."

Originally, I was going to make a comment about how I agreed and then I figured Carrots would reply back that we were the police, at which time I would reveal I meant literally and she would blush a little. What really happened though, is so much greater. I didn't even have to do a thing. It just happened.

Out of the din of the watching crowd, several of the more rambunctious and inebriated of the partying club mammals voiced their whole-hearted agreement with what Smalls said. They too, had meant it literally. My partner turned red. I don't mean she blushed. This wasn't the slight red twinge of a blush. She turned red. Her body produced more blood so that she could be completely red, that's how horrified she was. I can't describe it anymore than that, because I don't think words could do the way she looked justice. There's no way she could have been anymore embarrassed or that I could've been happier.

Then someone threw their leather pants at her. After that it was all kind of a blur. All I remember is her grabbing my arm, grabbing Smalls, and rushing for the exit. Fake leather was flying everywhere, as well as some other things I'm not totally comfortable mentioning. Somehow, we got out of there.

The suspect didn't say a word and just look disturbed. He didn't complain when I put him down in the squad car. Carrots didn't say a word the entire trip back. She just drove in complete silence and wouldn't look at me. The scent of her mortification was so palpable I could taste it.

I love my life.

-Officer Nick Wilde, Partner of Officer "Club Demon" Hopps

…

The Chief sat in silence for a moment. He quietly signed the report and placed it in the approved pile. Then he took off his spectacles and put them aside. It was at this point that he thought it best to smash his head against the desk and silently scream into the wood.

He didn't know why he even had to read that. Nothing they did had outright broken protocol. The records department had made a mistake. He didn't have to read this report.

"Why is life pain?" The Chief questioned his desk.

Unbeknownst to Bogo, a pair of eyes had been watching him through the crack of his door. As he collapsed to his desk and voiced his thoughts aloud the eyes disappeared and the form of Calvin Quills scurried away from his office, leaving the water buffalo to ponder his existence.

MEANWHILE IN ROOM 124

"Alright, alright everyone calm down." Said the voice of Dr. Hobbes, the head of forensics and the de-facto leader of the records department. "Calvin will be back soon, then we'll know who won."

There was a collective clamor from the group seated in front of him as they waited for their colleague to return from his excursion to the Chief's office.

"Why even bother? We know the Chief's going to fire the guy. You all should just go ahead and pay me!" Exclaimed one of those gathered.

The mammal sitting next to him scoffed. "Oh, please. He'll have a mental breakdown before that happens. You just don't want to give up your bet."

The original speaker's snorted as he replied to his associate. "Of course I don't, who would? Doesn't mean I'm wrong though. You and the rest are just sore losers."

At that statement the rest of the twenty gathered mammals began to bicker as well. Dr. Hobbes rolled his eyes. It was always like this when there was a betting pool. Everyone was always so antsy to see if they were right, and more importantly, if they were about to win big.

Suddenly the door to the room flew open, drawing everyone's attention. A panting porcupine stood in the doorway, his chest heaving after a rather long run. There was utter silence in the room as he stepped through the entryway.

The silence was quickly broken when Dr. Hobbes questioned him. "Well, Calvin? What happened? How did he react?"

The porcupine looked to Dr. Hobbes and then to those sitting around the room. Finally he opened his mouth and asked, "Who bet on the Chief having an existential crisis?"

There was a collective groan from all of those gathered, Dr. Hobbes included, except for a single mammal- A snow leopard. She stood up, a wide grin plastered on her face.

"Looks like the entire pool is mine, huh?" Said the leopard, as she walked up to Dr. Hobbes. The good doctor opened the small metal box that had been sitting next to him, pulling out $600 from it. He reluctantly handed the small wad of cash over to the winner, irritated that he had bet wrong himself.

He really had thought the Chief would cry this time.

The winning mammal happily grabbed the cash and walked from the room, preparing to head home and brag to her husband about her 'bonus.' The rest of the group left the room grumbling. Losing was never fun. Finally, the only two left in Room 124 were Dr. Hobbes and Calvin Quills.

"Dr. Hobbes?"

"What is it Calvin?"

"Isn't it kind of cruel of us to make bets on this?" Calvin asked sheepishly. "Officer Wilde's report didn't violate protocol, sir, so it seems a bit mean to make the Chief read it when we know he hates to do it."

Dr. Hobbes stared at his younger colleague, trying to think up a reply. Eventually he responded, "He has us read all the reports when it's technically his responsibility." He paused before adding, "And I think we're entitled to a little fun now and again, don't you Mr. Quills?"

Mr. Quills agreed.