My script for Nickelodeon has been submitted! Now I can focus on my fics again! Let's turn dis up a notch!
CA$H ONLY
Chapter 5: Merger$
By: I Write Big
Podunk has only one bar in town and it closes promptly at 1am. After a long day, the manager had almost locked the last customer inside. It was the tiny, drunken shrew's loud curses that alerted them to his sorry ass still at the bar. They escorted him, shouting and flailing, outside. The brisk evening air reminded Donny that he hadn't gotten to a nice bed last night and probably wouldn't tonight either. The few motels in this tiny shithole town were closed up tight.
At least the gas station was open 24 hours.
The only brew the station's store fridge had in his size was Phull Muun. He somberly stared at the 6-pack for a good 19 minutes before the goat at the register asked him to leave. Donny bought the beer and curled up on the stone bench outside, his thoughts endlessly drifting to and from a particular shrew just south of the border. He got through four bottles before he slipped into a sleep he wished to never wake from.
"Zis is not breakfast."
Light burned through his eyes that were trapped in a skull that was pounding like he had taken on a hoofball player. Fuck, was he thirsty.
"Nyet!"
Something swiped the beer out of his paws. It finally occurred to Donny that somebody was standing over him. He squinted to give the asshole a glare only to be scooped up by a pair of thick, sinemy arms. The world jostled around him and he figured he was being carried. Probably being kitnapped like li'l Judy. That was fine. He didn't care anymore.
The world suddenly got darker and much more tolerable. Cold glass pressed against his lips.
"Drink."
Liquid splashed into his muzzle. He gulped down a drink that tasted better than any cocktail a bartender had ever mixed him and it washed away the cotton lining his mouth. The last swig went down wrong and he coughed, "What the, ahem, what did I just drink?"
"Milk. Family recipe."
Donny's peepers barely opened and he spied a graying cow stomp around. She was stacking plastic-wrapped cheese blocks, milk bottles and other dairy products into wide displays. The shrew slowly grasped his bearings. He was in a little shop, decorated in an old-country, log cabin style. Framed photos of dozens of different species of mammals, big and small, covered the walls. A little TV in the corner was tuned to ZNN. The early-bird news show hadn't even started yet so there was only corny infomercials.
"Eat."
A plate of steaming pancakes was slid in front of him. They were silver-dollar pancakes, but to a shrew of his stature they were a feast. And they smelt like heaven. "Miss..." he couldn't look away from the glorious food, "am I dead?"
"Dead? HA!" a throaty chortle gurgled from the cow's wrinkled nose. "You drank much too many. You slept outside store. Zat is all. Eat."
Donny's stomach was an odd mix of empty and fuming toxic acid. He felt any food going in would immediately come back out. His hunger won in the end and he shoveled the first forkful. "Oh… goddamn… buttermilk..." he shivered in pure ecstasy. The rest of the stack disappeared within minutes. His satisfied face looked at the walls again. He could see now how close everyone held each other and the genuine smiles. At the center of the largest photo stood the same cow working next to him. Instead of a smile, she wore a stern grimace that reminded him of his nana. "You've got quite the family, Miss."
"Bah!" she grumbled as she put out the yogurt. "Zey leave. Every one. Never come back."
"I'm sure they'll visit."
"Not anymore!" she whipped towards him, flashing a glare that froze him solid. "I made sure zis time." In an instant, the cow went back to her work, but the same stern grimace remained. "Family should love. My family... use."
The way she spat that last word resonated in Donny's mind. A sense of understanding shined over him as he struggled to put the words together, "But what if… what if you trust your family? Should you do what they say, even if it seems like they're doing something... wrong? My niece, she's… I love that girl. My family don't exactly love where she came from but she's my middle brother's angel and I love her. If I don't do something..."
"Zey will use her," she finished.
Donny knew she was right. He knew exactly what Pops was planning and he couldn't stand by and let it happen. Not again. Not like he did with… Donny furiously pushed away the bad memory of a sad shrew crying on the orphanage steps. He needed to get li'l Judy before Pops. He just had to find her.
The opening chimes of the 'Good Morning, Zootopia' hour played on the TV. "Hello and good morning, Zootopia," greeted the host, "this morning we have some breaking news on the whereabouts of the missing Judy Clawleone Big."
A familiar, portly, tall fox stepped into view. He fed a baby shrew in his arms. "Hi there, I'm Gideon Grey, founder and owner of 'Gideon Grey's Real Good Baked Stuff.' Ask yourself, are you tired of having automated, conveyor belt food full of all those funny stuff? Wouldn't you rather enjoy a meal that was paw-made with the freshest of ingredients that were grown right here by the sons and daughters of Bunnyburrow? Doesn't coming to a place that treats you like family sound nice?" Images of the most delicious diner food appeared in delectable detail. "Here at 'Gideon Grey's Real Good Baked Stuff' we pride ourselves in serving the best food in the tri-county area. We have the local farms to thank for that opportunity." Tables of joyful, welcoming rabbits waved before Gideon stepped forward again, making extra sure to show off the baby shrew. "We take all cards and cash. Come on down, when you can. Shoot, why not today? And your family can be part of our family too."
The diner's name, address and contact info blazed across the screen and the ZooTube video ended. A grid of video suggestions took its place. A couple movie reviews, baking videos, one or two let's plays—
"Hopps," the gravelly voice of Bogo shook Judy back to reality. "Your thoughts?"
The bunny didn't really know what to think. She had been pretending to be going over a report about over 3,000 counterfeit bucks being found at First National in order to hide her kitnapping notes when Bogo had called her and Nick into his office. She'd assumed the Chief had caught onto their little field trip the other day and was going to reprimand them. Instead, he had silently pulled up, apparently, the highest trending video on the internet. Cheese and crackers, it was smack dab on top of the recommendations list and everything with li'l Judy's face next to Gideon's as the thumbnail.
"I, uh..." her suddenly dry throat made her crave a cup of water, "That has to be the longest Gideon's ever gone without stuttering. I'm impressed."
Bogo didn't laugh, just as she expected, and instead pulled up a unlisted video. "This was emailed to the Tundratown Limo Service this morning." It was the same commercial for the diner but the video kept jumping to random parts.
"We have - your - family - Ask yourself - wouldn't you rather - having - your - daughters - sound nice? - Come on down - Bunnyburrow? - Funny stuff?" A big red X emblazoned across the screen followed by a warning siren. "Today? - Bunnyburrow? - Gideon Grey's Real Good Baked Stuff - Cash." The image froze on happy li'l Judy with a time and a large ransom amount underneath. It came on screen with a glittery golden sparkle transition followed by a KA-CHING! sound effect.
Judy twitched. The twitch started in her eye, then scurried down her nose, through her entire body until it ended in her foot which proceeded to thump.
Hard.
"Bunnyburrow?!" she exclaimed. "Where did that come from? That's over 50 miles away from Skoll Canyon Landfill and it's actually closer to Zootopia! What, did Duke change his mind and just turn around? 'Oh, I already spent a day goin' South, let's try da complete opposite direction!' And why is my family there?! Are they involved?! Cheese and crackers, what is going on!?"
Nick, his stare blank and unreadable, sipped his coffee.
"'Duke?' As in, Duke Weaselton?" Bogo closed the ZooTube video.
Nick stopped mid-sip.
The Chief leaned over his desk with a hard glare, "Are you under the impression that he is our kitnapper?"
Nick said, "Sir, that's—"
"I was asking Hopps."
The rock-solid eye contact bore into the bunny officer's soul. She had stared down many a hardened criminal. Some were armed to the teeth with rap sheets that covered multiple homicides. However, she had never ever lied to her boss. The very thought of it felt wrong. The truth wanted out. It needed to come out. It could help with the case! There was no reason to lie!
"He's our lead suspect," she sighed.
Bogo's glare held for a tad longer. He then leaned back and said, "That's more suspects than we got."
Judy and Nick blinked.
"While what I said about you being too close to this case is still true, the fact remains that you are the only Bunnyburrow expert in the entirety of the ZPD."
"Expert...?" Judy muttered the word.
Bogo read from a clipboard, "Are you familiar with the layout of the land?"
"I… know it like the back of my paw."
He checked something off, "Do the locals trust you?"
"I grew up with them."
"Then, Officer Hopps," he dropped the clipboard on his desk and removed his glasses, "you are officially more qualified than any other officer here. The Bigs have already provided us with the ransom money. Get your tails to Bunnyburrow and end this. When you're done, I expect a full report on this Skoll Canyon Landfill before I assign you both parking duty."
Homemade smoke bombs are probably the easiest things to make in the world. All you need is a powdery substance of your choice for the smoke and sugar for the explosive. Dozens of recipes existed online that showed how to make a smoke bomb that you could even tailor to pump out smog in your favorite color. It had been awhile since Duke had brewed an emergency escape popper, as he liked to call them, but with how important this day was, he decided to be cautious. Using Gideon's kitchen as his lab, he mixed together the right amounts of baking soda and sugar and stuffed the concoction into Cash's little baby bottle. "Today's da day, Cash. Today, ya get ta see mama again. Ain't dat excitin'?"
"Hahaha! Fuck it!" clapped Cash.
The weasel groaned, "Yeah, don't let your mama hear dat word. She ain't gonna be too happy 'bout dat."
"W-W-What was that?" Gideon suddenly entered the kitchen. Duke scrambled to hide the bowl behind his back. "Uh, what are ya—"
"NOTHIN'!" Duke and Gideon stared at each other in awkward silence, "I mean, jussa makin' a li'l snack for da road. Ya don't mind, right?"
A toothy grin cracked across Gideon's face, "You k-k-kidding? After all your help, you could rob the whole p-p-pantry. By the way, d-d-did I hear right? Is Cash's m-m-ma coming?"
"Mama!" cheered the baby shrew before Duke could say anything.
Duke grit his teeth. All this making shit up as he went was seriously getting on his nerves. "Maybe. I don't know. She said she might." He quickly pocketed the little bottle, "Listen, I'm gonna sit up front and wait for her. Can ya keep an eye on Cash for me? Things between me and da misses can get a li'l shouty."
The fox nodded and Duke headed out the kitchen doors. "Hey, Duke," he heard the baker call, "Even if the commercial don't bring more m-m-mammals in, I-I-I appreciate what you did. I consider you a friend."
Duke inwardly sighed and put on one last kind face, "Ya know, one day some mammal is gonna take advantage of that big heart of yers."
"Sure, but if we d-d-don't be the change we want to see in the world, then w-w-what kind of life will our k-k-kits have?"
The film around Duke's ankle tightened. It was as if any blood flow going to his foot had been cut off and left the limb ice cold. Pushing the pain away, he pressed his weight into his leg and stiffly walked to the same booth he had sat in yesterday. "Fucking hillbilly," he grumbled as he slid into the sleak, cushioned seat. He looked out the window. Where once roared an endless sea of fluffy bunnies was an empty street. Empty save for an inconspicuous box truck parked on the corner. He narrowed his gaze at the vehicle.
Just like in the movies.
It was definitely them.
The only question was, why an ice cream truck?
"S-s-s-sorry, again about-t-t-t this-s-s-s," shivered the Bunnyburrow sheriff, his breath fogging in the ice cream truck freezer, "We don't-t-t-t have much in the way of undercover vehicles-s-s-s."
"C-c-c-completely underst-t-tand," Nick huffed into his paws in an attempt to stay warm.
"We're actually fine," Mr. Big shrugged. He and his fellow arctic mammals didn't seem fazed by the below freezing temperature.
A gasp came from Judy, who was observing the diner with binoculars, "I s-s-see him!"
"Where?" demanded Mr. Big. His personal polar bear Koslov moved to get out only for Nick to throw his arms around the big guy.
"Stop!" Judy ordered. "It's not the des-s-signated time, sir. We're going to get your granddaughter back, but you need to do wha-t-t we say." She waited for the tense shrew to relax before she talked into her walkie. "All t-t-teams, I have eyes on the perp. Confirm."
One by one, the officers under her charge called in. They either also had visual on Duke or had the exits covered. None could verify li'l Judy's location. She checked her watch. Three more minutes until the exchange. This should be clean. The Bigs were willing to pay any price for their child. Koslov would go in there, leave the money, get li'l Judy and come back out. If they could arrest Duke after, then great. Li'l Judy's safety, though, was the main priority.
Bzzt. Bzzt.
Everyone slowly turned towards Mr. Big who pulled out his phone. He took one look at the screen and knitted his brow, "Oh boy..." He answered it, "Sweetie, I can't talk right now, I'm busy—"
"DADDY! Did you see this video?!" screamed the unmistakable voice of Fru Fru. "This horrible, ugly, fat fox has my baby! It's all over the internet!"
"Yes, I know, sweetie. I'm at where they shot that video. I'm about to get her back—"
"You haven't gotten her yet?!" Fru Fru somehow got even louder. Mr. Big held the device away from his ear. Koslov took it and held it even further away. She could still be easily heard. "Do I have to do everything myself?! You get in there and get my baby back right now, daddy, before the rest of Zootopia gets there first!"
There was a pregnant pause.
"Rest of Zootopia?" questioned Nick.
Judy's ears flopped flat against her back as her brain put the pieces together. "No way..." She then noticed, she wasn't just shivering… the entire truck was also vibrating. It was like a miniature earthquake.
"Hopps, we got a problem at the perimeter!" a voice roared through her walkie before the connection was cut.
She saw them. Leading the charge was a cheetah. Of course, the fast ones get here first. Then came the other feline predators. Then some of the more agile prey. Some were even riding on the shoulders of a couple generous elephants. They all had their smartphones raised high, cameras at the ready. It was a stampede of bloggers...
The cheetah ripped through the diner doors first, followed closely by a panther. After that, Judy couldn't tell who got in next. The road before her had become a chaotic riot of mammals trying to enter currently the most internet-famous location in the world. Those hopelessly stuck outside proceeded to take selfies or start livestreaming. She was vaguely aware of Mr. Big loudly demanding to know what was going on and Nick trying to placate him and Koslov. Judy's attention, however, was stuck on the diner window she could still barely see over the horror.
He sat there, looking straight back at her, with a smug-ass smile.
Duke raised an eyebrow as he saw the cottontail come out of the truck with a metal briefcase. Its handle was clenched tightly in her paw. He then saw Wilde stick his nose out. His desperate cries for her to come back were drowned by the babbling bloggers and the copper disappeared into the mob. Duke watched the front door, ignoring Gideon who was happily taking orders left and right. At last, she squeezed through a pair of giraffe legs and came to his booth.
The metal briefcase slammed down before the weasel and she growled, "Where's Judy?"
He opened his mouth and then hesitated, "Wait, ain't you Judy?"
"Not me, the other Judy! Where is she? I got the cash!"
"Da hell ya talkin' 'bout? I still got Cash. Don't ya try ta pull a fast one on me, copper!"
Judy was at a loss, "What are you even talking about?"
"Don't play dumb! You're Judy, ya got da money dat you're gonna give ta me for Cash."
"Why would you exchange money for cash? They're the same thing!"
"Not cash money! Cash da baby shrew!"
"My goddaughter's name is not Cash!"
Duke thought for a second, "...Oh, right, dat's da name I gave her. Jeez, dis whole time her name was Judy? Dat's juss confusin'. Hold on a sec, she's ya goddaughter?"
"YOU DON'T KNOW THE NAME OF THE SHREW YOU KITNAPPED?!" Judy slammed her face on the table. Her following scream was muffled by the even louder crowd.
"Christ Almighty, ya havin' one of dem mental breakdowns?" He got no response. The bunny kept her nose pressed against the table. Duke considered that it was best to wrap this fiasco quickly and reached for the briefcase. His claws had barely scratched the handle before a bunny paw grabbed his wrist.
"How did you do it, huh? The kitnapping was spotless, you traveled nearly a hundred miles in 2 days, cheese and crackers, you even got my parents to star in your ransom commercial! HOW?!"
Despite the manic look she was giving, Duke couldn't help but feel a twinge of pride, "What's dat, cottontail? Ya actually impressed with me?"
"Who helped you?"
"Nobody!" he laughed, "I've been runnin' my ass off on my own since da start."
She tightened her hold on his wrist, "I don't believe that for a second."
"Too bad, dat's da—"
"I know you!" Something snapped in Judy's head, "You don't make big complicated plans, you only deliver for them! That's all you do! I've booked you seventeen times! You're not a criminal mastermind! You're a pickpocket! You're a thief! You're a bootlegger! You're nothing but a dirty, wily, little weasel!"
It was quiet.
Whether that silence was the rowdy mammals suddenly being polite or just his imagination, it couldn't be said.
There was pain.
Duke didn't expect the pain.
That same insult had been flung at him by coppers, customers, even strangers on the sidewalk… but never her. Never from Miss You-Can-Be-Anything. They were the same exact words… yet they hurt worse than the beating that junkyard shrew gave him. Worse than that crazy cow's smacks. Worse than… anything. He could see the regret in her eyes, but it didn't matter. She had said what she really thought of him.
He took the briefcase without anymore resistance and slipped out of the booth.
"Weselton, I—"
"She's in da kitchen. Don't worry, I took good care of her." He held his stare straight ahead towards his exit. "Ya know, originally, I was only da delivery guy. Den things went crazy and I had ta think on my feet. In da end, I surprised myself with how much I made happen. But you're right. Dis was juss another crime done by juss another weasel. Dat's all I'm good for." He took one last look at her, drinking in the hurt she was showing, "And it's Weaselton, ya emotional, dumb, fuckin' cottontail."
With the biggest score of his life tucked under his arms, he vanished into the bloggers. The hurricane of bodies hid his presence as he easily slipped out of the diner and around the corner.
Nobody saw him leave.
Judy stayed in the booth for a little while longer until she also finally slid out of the seat. She trudged towards the kitchen door. It was the Night Howler press conference all over again. Judy wasn't exactly friends with Duke like she had been with Nick, but she had always thought the weasel could be better. She didn't become a cop to put mammals away. She wanted to make the world a better place. To make mammals change. Nick had changed. Gideon had changed. Her parents had changed. Up until then, she thought she had changed too. Was it truly beyond belief that Duke could've pulled this off alone? She had always encouraged him to strive to do more with his life. Was this what he thought she meant?
She pushed open the door and saw a baby carrier, almost as big as her, sitting on the counter. A trembling sigh escaped her lips. It didn't matter. She had failed Duke and she needed to move on. Now, the only thing she had left was a duty. Judy launched herself and caught the counter edge and hefted her body the rest of the way.
"Hey, li'l Judy, it's your Aunt Big Ju—" she froze like a statue. Her pupils shrank to pinpricks. Every minute ounce of her sympathy broiled to godly rage.
Duke was a good three blocks away and still pushing against the neverending tide of mammals before he came to an abrupt stop. "What da fuck am I doin'?" he slapped his forehead, "Me and cottontail juss did da old stupid 'misunderstandin'/ya suck' cliche dat's in every movie ever! All I has ta do is go back in dere, hear her out and we won't hate each other no more."
He whipped around back towards the diner! And then he stopped.
"Gah! Duke, ya dumbass! Da two of ya ain't pals. Ya go in dere, she'll slap da cuffs on ya."
He turned to leave again! He stopped again!
"But if me and cottontail ain't pals, den why do I care what she thinks of me? Is it 'cause, in some fucked up way, our copper-robber thing is da closest thing I have to a pal thing?" He regarded the not so distant diner with newfound passion, "Is it 'cause... cottontail was da only mammal who knew who I really was and was still dumb enough ta say dat I could be somethin' more… and was serious? Is dat it?"
"He's not talking to us, right?" a voice asked from behind him.
"Mind yer own damn business!" Duke turned towards the rude eavesdroppers and, for a fourth time, stopped.
"Well hey there, Travis."
Duke gulped, "Oh Pikels..." He dove between one of their legs but a paw grabbed his tail. Within seconds, he was thrown into a dead-end alley. He tried scaling the brick wall but the heavy metal briefcase pulled him back down.
"Where you going, hot stuff?"
Duke faced his capturerers. He counted three. The same lioness, deer and squirrel from Podunk. "Ladies!" Duke put on his toothiest smile. "So great ta see ya! Look, I'm sorry 'bout crashin' da Pickle, Picklle, Pikel picnic. Dat cow said I could stay, I swear."
"Cut the trash, Travis. We're not here for that," the gerbil that had given him that fake name stepped from behind the deer. Giggling in his arms was…
"Cash?" Duke blinked at the baby who should've been back at the diner. His heart raced as his plan started to come undone.
"Don't make this hard. Give us the recipe and you get your daughter back."
Duke wanted to tear out his fur. "Ya morons are ransomin' my ransom baby back ta me afta' I already ransomed her?!"
"Recipe!" demanded the gerbil.
"I don't got no motherfuckin' recipe! I never did!"
The lioness stepped in, "Calm down, cutie," Duke didn't like the bedroom eyes she was flashing at him. He preferred his broads shorter... and with less fangs. "You're lucky we were the first ones to find you. Every Pickle, Picklle, and Pikel knows the recipe is here and that you got it. We saw it on your commercial."
Duke thought back to the video. He had sat in front of Gideon's computer all night, editing that footage non-stop. He could remember the details of each frame that made the cut. Nothing in there was from Podunk. The props were brought in from Bunnyburrow. The only parts Duke contributed were the script, Cash, and her bottle to shut her up.
Duke's hair stood on end.
The tiny, thimble-sized bottle that the crazy cow had practically forced him to take.
The one heavily weighing in his pocket.
A sense of surrealness took hold as he drew out the tiny bottle and examined it. An almost microscopic flap of what looked like a clear skin caught his attention. He scratched at it with his claw and a hidden layer of plastic slowly peeled off the bottle's surface. It was hardly a centimeter wide and maybe three long. Across it he could spy several tiny lines of nearly unreadable text.
"'Attaboy," the cat purred. Her open paw waited patiently for the strip.
Instinctively, he stepped forward to give her what she wanted. As his arm stretched, something nagged at the back of his mind.
Deliver… That's all you do!
Here he was. Doing what he did best. Exactly like she said.
You're nothing!
Running around for mammals he'd never meet. Pulling off jobs for a life-changing score that he'd never know nothing about.
You don't make big complicated plans, you only deliver for them!
A grunt. Know-nothing. Doing the same legwork over and over for petty cash.
Deliver!
His fist closed around the plastic and he raised the bottle, "Fuck off, hairball!" The tiny container exploded on impact with the grimy street and immediately they were engulfed in a thick, choking cloud. Before he was blinded, Duke memorized where the gerbil was, clenched his eyes shut and reeled back his foot.
If any mammal was looking down that alley at that exact moment, they would have seen a screaming gerbil-shaped missile fire out of a ball of smoke followed by a coughing weasel charge back onto the swamped sidewalk.
"Crap! Crap! Crap! Crap!" Duke's neck strained back as he watched the mammals plummet, "I got ya! I got ya! I got ya!" The furry torpedo plopped right into his paws. He tossed the shaking gerbil into the alley and held onto the hysterically laughing shrew. "Thank God! Alright, let's get ya back ta da diner 'fore cottontail notices you're gone." He faced the diner and saw something that made him sweat.
Fire burning in her eyes, the hellbent copper was hopping atop the mountainous mammals' heads as if they were molehills. And she was coming right towards him. "DUUUUUUUUUUUKKKKKKKKKEEEEEEE!" her warcry, mightier than thunder, echoed across town.
"TRAVIS!" a choked gerbil roared from the dissipating smoke.
"Fuck it!" giggled Cash.
Duke latched onto a nearby passing elephant and scampered up the wide body until he reached the crowded shoulders. Ignoring the annoying bloggers, he scanned the horizon until he saw exactly what he needed. With much less grace than the copper, he lept to a hippo, bounced off his fatty belly and rose high into the air. At the apex of his bounce he grabbed onto the long neck of a giraffe. The added height put him already ¾ of the way up and he immediately began shimmying the rest of the way. Once within earshot he shouted, "Hey, buddy! Yer shoes're untied!"
"Huh?" the giraffe bent down to check his laces, making his tall neck into a long bridge that reached clear across the crowd. Duke was now much closer to the diner than Judy was to him. Using the giraffe's head as a springboard, the weasel launched himself over a few more heads and landed safely in a bush. He scrambled the rest of the way and burst through the diner's back door.
"Gideon, I told you to watch Cash—" Duke nearly bit his tongue as he saw two foxes standing in the kitchen. The smaller of the two was none other than the turncoat.
"Freeze!" he heard Wilde order, but he was already worming his way through the trash cans and diving back into the forest of mammals. The fox had a much harder time pushing his way through the bodies and Duke soon lost sight of him. This time Duke stayed low, so as not to get caught by the blood-hungry bunny above. He eventually passed the ice cream truck and got a rhythm going for the fastest way through the bloggers.
The weasel concluded the best plan was to find some safe place to leave Cash. Maybe like a hospital or a firefighter's station or a dumpster. Then he'd take the briefcase of cash and catch a bus or a zuber or whatever. When, and only when, he was at least fifty miles away, he would send a message on the baby shrew's whereabouts and this shitshow would be over.
He broke free of the mass of bloggers and took three steps before the side of a black sedan halted in front of him. The back door opened and a pair of paws dragged him in. Duke instinctively struggled but, almost immediately after the door shut, his attackers let him go.
"You've given Zootopia's finest quite the chase." Duke looked towards the tired speaker. It was a shrew, not unlike Big. Only this shrew was much older, much grayer. He was surrounded by raccoons in well-tailored suits. "I don't expect you to know who I am, Weasel. Unlike the Bigs, us Clawleones prefer to work in private," the shrew said as the sedan began to drive.
Duke's heart stopped as he remembered Cash's full name: Judy Clawleone Big.
As if he could sense his distress, Clawleone continued, "We also don't ice. When a mammal needs to be taken care of, we prefer they disappear with our blessing." A raccoon slid an airline ticket into Duke's lap. One way. South. "Your time in Zootopia has ended, Weasel."
The sedan stopped and the door opened. Duke was led out to a field. Nearby stood a crop duster biplane, a bunny pilot already waiting in the cockpit. Its spinning propeller pointed down the long dirt strip that cut through the tall grass.
"We'll take my dear granddaughter off your paws and send you on your way to your new life. As far as I see it, you've taken from the Bigs, not the Clawleones. And for that reason, you may keep your winnings."
Clawleone ended his speech with an expectant look directed at Duke. The weasel himself was still processing what the hell just happened. It flew by so damn fast, he could've sworn he'd gotten whiplash. In a matter of minutes he had went from recreating 'Catch Me If You Can' to a no strings attached ride down South. He was gonna get away with the cash and whatever that stupid piece of plastic in his pocket was worth! He was set!
"Duke."
The world stood still. He felt like a stranger in his own body as he craned his neck down at the baby shrew, clinging tightly to his chest. "I… I told ya not ta say my name in a cute, adorable way," he whispered, surprised at the shakiness in his own voice.
She only held harder and pressed her nose into his fur. She shook her head as if she was trying to say no but the only word that came out was, "Duke."
He tugged on her but just like last night, her tiny claws had tangled themselves into his tufts and she wouldn't budge. He didn't like the way she said his name. It made his heart ache. "Come on, it's time ta go back ta your family—"
"Duke!" she looked up at him, eyes glistening with tears. He then knew… he could never get rid of her unless he did this right.
"I promised Cash I'd get her ta her mama." Duke tossed the plane ticket at the shrew's feet.
"...What?"
"I told her I'd get her ta her mama and dat's what I'm doin'." He turned from the plane and began walking. How he was going to make that happen and keep his life, he had no clue. Then again, delivering was what he did best. He'd figure it out on the way like he always did. He just needed a destination. "Thanks for da offer, but I need ta get ta Tundratown."
"Of all the mammals to pull this off..." the old shrew grumbled behind him, "how did a moron like you survive this long?"
The click of a dozen weapons froze Duke on the spot. He slowly turned to see the raccoons pointing loaded tranq guns at him.
"Hey, whoa! I'm givin' back da kit, I juss need ta give her ta her mama—"
"Li'l Judy ain't seeing her mama. After today, nobody will never see that li'l mistake again." Clawleone's cold, empty eyes pierced from his bored, almost uninterested face. "Same goes for you, Weasel."
VROOOM!
The ice cream truck plowed through the raccoon line! Duke's jaw dropped as he caught a glimpse of the driver. It couldn't be… the damn junkyard shrew! He had found him! Duke had to get away fast before he was roadkill too! He booked it toward the only possible escape: the crop duster. He climbed into the passenger seat and slapped the trembling bunny pilot.
"Fly!"
"What the hell is going on?!"
"We're gonna die, dat's what! Now fly!"
The bunny obeyed, working the controls as best as he could. The plane started down the runway only for several tranq darts to hit the side. Both mammals screamed as the few still standing raccoons opened fire on the aircraft, some even sprinted after the thing. Duke wondered if a few grabbed onto the tail, if they'd be too heavy to get airborne. After what felt like an eternity, the nose lifted and Duke watched the raccoons shrink to the size of mice.
"Haha! So long, suckers!"
In the field, Donny pushed the brick he had been using on the gas pedal out of the ice cream truck and hopped out of the vehicle. Now out in the open, he locked gazes with the old shrew by the sedan. In those seconds, dozens of emotions were conveyed. Anger, betrayal, disappointment, resentment, rebellion, resignation. The old shrew looked away first, his attention drawn towards the approaching sirens. The raccoons who could still walk piled into the sedan with the old shrew and drove off.
"See ya, Pops," Donny muttered.
Donny walked onto the dirt strip and kneeled, his paws firmly tucked behind his head in surrender. He sighed at the sight of the disappearing plane. A prayer formed in his mind for their safe travel. As the sirens grew closer, a sense of calm warmed Donny's body. There was no anger. Only peace.
It was kind of ruined when the cops arrived and didn't even notice he was there. He had to scream at the fox to arrest him.
The annoyance was worth li'l Judy being safe.
"I can't feel my foot," said the pilot.
"Whatcha talkin' 'bout?" asked Duke, taking note of the sudden drunken slur in the bunny's words.
"I mean I can't fffffffflllll..." the bunny sluggishly pointed at their leg. There, next to a fresh hole in the fuselage, was a tranq dart. The pilot slumped backwards, out cold.
"Ah… fuck."
END CHAPTER FIVE
Next chapter, there's gonna be a whole lot of squealing.
