A Policeman's Lot Is Not a Happy One

by King in Yellow

Danger is not Nick Wilde's business, but it is in his job description. Not that he likes danger. He'll try hard to avoid conflict, maybe too hard. There are things more dangerous than being shot at. Dark scary things. Things like taking a rabbit home to meet your mother for the first time. Another follow-up to Who Do You Trust?

4. Beard the Lion in His Lair

Boilerplate Disclaimer: The various characters from the movie Zootopia are all owned by Disney the great and powerful. Any and all registered trade names property of their respective owners. Cheap shots at celebrities constitute fair usage.

On DeviantArt toannghe1997 has drawn a couple things based on the Who Do You Trust continuity.

While the sun shines make your hay –
Where a will is, there's a way –
Beard the lion in his lair –
None but the brave deserve the fair!

Beard the Lion in His Lair

"What do you think the chances are of someone coming in and disturbing us," Judy asked Nick in the morning, stroking the fur on his chest.

"Probably pretty low, but I'm not sure of the odds and don't want to risk it... Ever made love in the back seat of a car?"

"Um... With a male or female? Just rabbits or other species? Multiple partners count individually or as a single experience?"

Judy giggled at the shocked look on Nick's face. He gave her a stern look. "You know, jokes like that give rabbits a bad name."

"Sorry. It was just too... The look on your face! No, I've never made love in the back seat of a car. And if you're suggesting we sneak off today to some back road it doesn't sound very comfortable. And after the rumors that got started in Bunnyburrow when were just talking on a park bench? If we leave early enough tomorrow we might have some quality time – wink, wink, nudge, nudge – in the evening when we get back to Zootopia."

"How about backseat of the car in Nancy's driveway after we drop off Joshua? Serve her right for telling mom we're sleeping together. Might give Steve a heart attack."

"No. And that is a terrible thing to wish on Josh's father."

"Think Josh is old enough to learn to drive? We can give him a lesson and let him drive for part of the trip home, while you and I wink and nudge in the back seat."

"You keep that up, Mister Wilde, and you might not get any wink and nudge tomorrow night in Zootopia."

"You used to be fun," he pouted

"I offered you fun this morning, but you're too worried about your mom walking in on us, remember?"

"Okay, okay," he muttered. "Hey, can you hand me my phone? I need to see if I got an email."

"Your mystery call last night? Going to give me details or do I need to snoop and call my folks?"

"I needed the number for Julius Flywheel. I wanted to ask him about a special lease."

"You want to rent something here or Bunnyburrow?"

"No. I had an idea. Don't know if it'll work. Uncle Charlie appears to be the most serious impediment – although Julius said any animal in his right mind would run and hide when presented with the terms I have in mind."

"That doesn't sound very promising."

"I see it as a challenge. It is time for mild-mannered police detective Nick Wilde to go into a phone booth... Any idea where to find a phone booth?"

"I've only seen them in old movies."

"I think a storeroom could work too. Detective Wilde ducks into a storeroom and assumes his secret identity of Slick Nick, the silver-tongued hustler who could sell balloons to porcupines. Using my powers of deep psychological insight and glib speech I shall convince the miscreants to mend their erring ways. I shall strike another blow for truth, justice, and the Zootopian way."

"Slick Nick?"

"The fox of steal." Nick checked emails, "And here it is! And there's an attachment."

"Email from a lawyer? Of course there're strings attached. Can I ask what this is costing you?"

"Besides my soul? I promised to tell him all I'm ethically allowed to say about the trial next week, and I owe him a good dinner while he's in Zootopia. Care to join us?"

"I don't know... My reputation is already kind of shaky from dating a fox. If anyone sees me with a lawyer?"

"Wear a disguise. Hold on, I'm sending him a text saying I got it. I'll figure out a good time to talk with him."

After Nick sent his text Judy asked, "I don't like wearing the bandage; can I leave it off – or does it make me look ugly?"

"You're always beautiful," he assured her and gave her a kiss. "And you look like a victim wearing it. You look like tough bunny without it. I wouldn't pick a fight with you."

The sun was shining through the kitchen window when they went downstairs. Uncle Charlie was at the table, talking with his sister and Joshua when they entered. He greeted them, and left. "Sleep any better last night?"

"No dreams of being dropped down a well. I promised Half-pint and Jude we'd look at the old ice house before we left, and I thought this morning would be a good time for that. Did I hear two for the game, field permitting?"

"That's right," Judy confirmed, "but we're hoping to go over around one. Check out the field and maybe have a few drills."

"Mom?"

"Of course I'll be going with you to the game. I thought Joshua played very well the other day."

"He did," Nick agreed. "Actually, I may not go to the park with you. I have a couple things I want to talk about with Uncle Charlie, then I'll head– Is there a printer around?"

"Yes. It's an old ink jet, nothing fancy... You may need to clean the heads."

"No problem, will do that after we get back from the ice house. Care to go over with us?"

"Thank you, but I'll pass."

---

Judy and Joshua stared in wonder at the huge structure. "Days before refrigerators, remember?" Nick reminded them. "It had to hold enough ice to last all summer for Fox Ridge – and the little farming villages in the valleys used to send wagons up to buy ice for the animals down there. I heard someone claim the Meadows got their money in some way from the ice house."

"Did they own it?"

"I don't know. Maybe they were the contractors and overcharged the city when they built it. Maybe they owned it. The walls are outrageously thick. I don't know if the roof is any good, but the walls will stand for hundreds of years. Oh and that," he said, and pointed to pile of twisted sheets of galvanized steel and rotted timbers, "that was where they made ice. Around a hundred years newer than the ice house."

The huge building had no windows to look inside and see if anything remained in storage and they soon returned to the Meadows home. Judy helped Nick's mother in the kitchen as Nick looked over the boilerplate he had been sent and rehearsed talking points in his mind.

Before noon Judy told Eleanor, "I'm going to find Nick and tell him lunch is ready."

"It will still be a few minutes."

"I want to talk with him for a minute." Finding him was relatively simple. Deciding what to say? Not so much so. Judy hesitated before speaking, "Nick... Sometimes I'm not sure you know what you're doing. And I'm usually wrong to doubt you. This morning... Well, you didn't sound very confident. Are you sure this is going to work?"

"I thought I sounded very... I didn't?"

"You tried to sound sure of yourself. You sounded a little worried."

"And the answer is, I don't know if this will work. But I know this rabbit who believes if you work hard and believe in the goodness of your fellow animal you can do anything."

"And you told her she was silly for believing that."

"The idea is starting to grow on me. Or maybe I like humoring her, I'm becoming terribly fond of the bunny. In any case, there is good news, I don't have to believe in the goodness of Uncle Charlie. There may be some goodness down there somewhere, but i don't need to find it. I'm going to try to appeal to his own self interest, and it isn't hard to find that for most of us."

---

Around one Isabella stopped at the Meadows home with her children, having set up the time the day before. Josh and the younger armadillos ran ahead to the park. The mothers walked more slowly, continuing their conversation from the day before.

Maria walked beside Judy, gradually increasing the distance between themselves and Isabella and Eleanor because they walked faster. "I made some yellow and red cards," Maria said in an excited voice, showing her creations to Judy. "And I brought a couple whistles!" The plastic whistles were on cheap cord. "Can I be your assistant again today, please?"

"No."

"But–"

"You should be the referee today. If you want me to, I'll be your assistant."

"Really?"

"Really. I think you'll do a good job."

There was a sudden gleam in the armadillo's dark eyes. "And that rude little fox! I can–"

"You can treat him fairly."

"But–"

"The children will respect you if you are fair. If they see you favoring some players you like, or punishing those you don't like, they won't trust you."

There were more children in the park than the late afternoon when Nick and Judy had arrived. Word of the game, and the fact Judy was coming back this afternoon, had spread among the young players. There were also a few teens there, practicing their skills. When Judy and Maria appeared a vixen with a splash of purple dye in her fur came toward them.

"Oh-oh," Maria said softly. "She is trouble."

Before Maria could explain her words the vixen, a little taller than Judy, blocked their progress. She glared at the bunny. "I heard you're good. Foxes are better than rabbits."

Judy shrugged, "I've known some foxes who were very good. I've known rabbits who were very good. I don't think either one is necessarily better than the other."

"Well, I'm a fox, and I'm better than you!"

"You might be. I've never seen you play."

"You're afraid of me!"

Judy smiled, "I'm not afraid of you. Maybe you are better at football than I am. Maybe I'm better than you. It doesn't matter. It doesn't change who we are."

"So you'll try and match me in some skill drills?"

"I'm here to help the children with a game."

Maria whispered "You can beat her."

The vixen heard the comment and snapped, "No she can't!"

Some of the younger children had drifted over to hear the confrontation, and began calling for the two to go head to head.

"Fine," Judy agreed glumly. "It doesn't matter who wins. Let's get this over with."

Twenty minutes later the vixen was bent over, gasping for breath. Or at least she was pretending to gasp for breath. Perhaps she just didn't want to say the words she thought were expected of her.

"You're very good," complimented Judy. "How old are you?"

"Fifteen."

"You might be better than I was when I was fifteen."

"But you're better now," the fox grudgingly admitted.

"I played through high school... We had a very good team–"

"Were you the star or something?"

"Our coach didn't like stars. We were supposed to play like a team."

"But you were a starter, right?"

"Every game," Judy smiled. "What's your name."

The vixen pointed to the slash of purple in her fur. "My name is Streak."

The children had watched the match. The fox Maria said was always rude giggled, "No it's not–"

"Shut your mouth," Streak warned.

"Her name is Pride!"

"That's a stupid name! My name is Streak."

"You're very good, Streak. I won the drill, but it doesn't make you any less good. But I think the children want the field now."

The vixen moved to the side to watch, but didn't leave. Judy hated the way teams were chosen. It had to hurt of be chosen last. At the same time, she felt some pleasure (and slightly ashamed of herself for feeling pleasure) at the fact Josh – an unknown player on Thursday – was picked higher today. As the team captains huddled with their players Maria cautiously asked, "Can we ask Carl to be a referee too?"

"You're in charge," Judy reminded her. "Who's Carl?"

Maria pointed to an armadillo boy, about her own age, standing with the parents. "Him."

"You can ask. Do you also want to ask Streak?"

"She'll say no."

"Doesn't matter if she says 'no' or not. You can ask her, let her decide."

"I should be the referee," Streak argued, when asked to assist. "I'm older than she is! I'm a better player!"

"You're a good player," Judy assured her. "But Maria is the referee this game. Do you want to assist or not? You seem to know the game very well."

"I know the game, but I don't... I..." the vixen gave a smile that worried Judy and Maria. "Sure."

The reason for Streak's pleasure showed itself six minutes into the game, when she called a yellow card on the young fox Maria said was rude, and who had revealed the vixen's real name.

"Hold on," Carl called. "I could see that as well as you could. No card."

Maria, who had not been in a good position to see the interaction called for the referees to meet. She looked to Judy, in hopes the rabbit could settle it.

"I didn't have a clear view," Judy admitted.

"I say he gets a yellow card," insisted Streak.

"He was very aggressive, they both were, but no foul," argued Carl.

"He gets a yellow card! He's my brother, and he's a booger-head, and he gets a yellow-card!"

"Is he getting the card because he deserves it, or because he's a booger-head?" asked Judy. "Maybe he wants to be as good as his sister someday."

Streak shrugged, "He should get a card." But she looked at Maria, "You're the referee."

Maria ended the time out. "The referees had different angles and did not agree. Both players were aggressive. Playing hard is good. But don't hurt anyone. Neither one is getting a yellow card now."

Streak tended to draw attention to minor points, which slowed the game down. When Carl complained it slowed things too much Streak argued it was important to know how to play the game properly. Judy could see both sides, but didn't want to intervene and act like the head referee. Late in the first half Maria did whisper something to Streak, and the delays to explain rules became less frequent – to everyone's relief.

---

Nick looked over the sample lease one more time to familiarize himself with the locations of the clauses and glanced at his watch. If Uncle Charlie threw him out immediately he could make it to the park for the start of the game. He folded the document, stuck it in his pocket, and headed for Charles' office.

Charles looked up from the book he was reading. "Something I can do for you?"

"Hope you can satisfy my curiosity."

"About what?"

"I'm pretty sure I've always heard a Meadows would do anything for Fox Ridge."

"That's true."

"Which part? That I would have heard that, or that a Meadows would do anything for Fox Ridge?"

"Both. All real Meadows will fight for this town."

Nick appeared to ponder for a moment. "Then what in the heck are you, 'cause you sure aren't a Meadows."

"You can get the hell out of my office, NOW!" Charles barked, "And take your damn rabbit and go back to Zootopia where you belong."

"See, that's exactly what I mean. Someone who loved Fox Ridge would be curious enough to ask if I had constructive ideas for the place. That's what a real Meadows would do."

"All right, wise ass. What can you offer? You don't even live here! What do you know?"

"Sometimes it takes a new pair of eyes to see things. I have new eyes. I see you just feeling sorry for yourself. I think this place has a chance. Let's start with a simple quiz. What's the problem with Fox Ridge?"

"Armadillos."

Nick made a buzzing noise and exclaimed, "WRONG! Wild Bill moved out of Fox Ridge before there was a single armadillo living here. He saw the place was dying and moved to Zootopia because he thought that was a better place for his family. I repeat, what's the problem with Fox Ridge?"

Charles thought a moment, "Okay, you're right. The problem started before the armadillos moved in. The problem is Plainview taking our population."

Nick buzzed again, "WRONG! Plainview didn't take anyone. They didn't sneak up in the night and kidnap a single fox. Plainview had opportunities. They didn't plot against Fox Ridge when they chose their location. And if animals had wanted to stay in Fox Ridge they could have. Plainview was a place people wanted to live more than Fox Ridge."

"Okay, wise ass, what is the problem with Fox Ridge?"

"You are. Oh, you didn't start it. Grandpa, or maybe Great-grandpa, thought that if he just wished hard enough everything would stay exactly the same. And you just close your eyes and cross your claws and wish real, real hard that you could return to the past."

"I repeat, get your bunny and go back to Zootopia. If I were ten years younger I wouldn't be saying that, I'd be tossing you out."

"See, still not interested in the future of Fox Ridge – too busy feeling sorry for yourself."

"What future? According to you this place is dead."

"I never said that. Fox Ridge is in bad shape, but it isn't dead. It still has a chance, but sitting around talking about how great it used to be won't bring it back. I believe this place could thrive. Could thrive if enough animals made an effort. But right now, nothing. The sooner an effort is made, the better chance of success. The longer nothing happens the greater the odds this place will die."

"And you can bring Fox Ridge back?" Charles sneered.

"No. I can't. I can see this place coming back, but I can't bring it back. No one individual can. You couldn't do it by yourself – even if you wanted to. It's going to take a lot of work, and this place has always looked to the Meadows family to provide leadership. Are they getting any from you?"

"You really believe there's hope for Fox Ridge?"

"I really believe it. There's no magic wand to wave and everything is wonderful. But this place has resources. It can come back, but it's going to take years. And the sooner it starts the sooner until success. This place can't afford to do nothing much longer."

"Resources?"

"This place won't be Plainview. Fox Ridge is not a transportation center and you don't have room for sprawling industry. But you don't want to copy Plainview. Fox Ridge needs to capitalize on what it has. You need to see this place with new eyes. Armadillos are not the problem. So, the question is, what are the armadillos?"

Charles hesitated, "A symptom of how low we've sunk?"

"If you weren't my uncle," sighed Nick, "I would swat you with a rolled up newspaper."

"So what are they?"

"Armadillos are one of the few resources Fox Ridge has. And if it's going to come back it needs to use every resource available."

"So, how do I use the armadillos?"

"Fox Ridge needs to change. It doesn't happen overnight. First, the animals living here need to be happy living here. Second and third, in no particular order, are some economic growth and having more animals see Fox Ridge in a positive way. This could be a destination city someday – not a tourist trap you visit once and wonder how you got suckered in. A destination city that animals want to visit for the day or the weekend. And then animals want to move there and call it home. But back to first, animals living here have to feel happy with the city. Do you know why the armadillos are here?"

"You're going to tell me."

"There're here because it's better than starving. Which is not a great slogan." He held up his hands and gestured as if reading a huge sign, "Come to Fox Ridge. It's better than starving." He looked at his uncle, "Fundamentally, they're like you. They want this place to come back. They want Fox Ridge to be a place they're proud to live."

"Give me your list again. What other resources do you see here? What does Fox Ridge need to do, in your opinion? Where do the armadillos fit into this?"

"Fox Ridge has beautiful architecture. All the old buildings weren't torn down for glass and steel boxes. Everything is in need of repair, but it would be worth it. The scenery is fantastic. Most of the little places that used to depend on Fox Ridge are still there. They're suffering too, and I'm guessing they also want to see Fox Ridge alive again. I said first of all Fox Ridge needs to be a place that the animals living here see more positively than 'it's better than starving'. They want stores, they want services. They want hope. Success feeds on success. A few positive changes could give animals – both foxes and armadillos – hope for change. You're going to need to push hard to give them some success, some reason for hope. But you start the ball rolling, you provide a vision of where the city could be in five, and ten, and fifteen years, you provide leadership and it can happen."

"A reason for hope. A start. Nice words. Got anything more than nice words?"

"As it happens, I do," Nick said and reached into his pocket. "The armadillos will need low rent to open any kind of business, and still couldn't expect a profit any time soon. Once they start to prosper their worry is a sudden big hike in rent. What they need is to locked into a long term lease with low rent payments. That gives them a big incentive to invest any profits into growth. The faster Fox Ridge prospers, the faster until they're making good profits with their businesses."

"But I'm locked into the low rent?"

"You're locked in too, but it works for your long term advantage... I had a lawyer I know draw up a sample. It can be tweaked a little, but I think this is what you need. And there're things here that work for your advantage."

"Let me see it." Charles was familiar with leases, he turned quickly to the rates and stared in amazement, "You can't be serious? This is almost rent free!"

"It's not rent free. But a low rent is all you can expect right now."

"Ten years at this rate?"

"Ten years, but if the town recovers you can raise it then and expect much higher. There's a clause that lets you see their books," Nick flipped a page and pointed. "The faster the town comes back, the sooner they're making good profits. The better their profits, the more rent can be charged in ten years... Oh, there are some other clauses here. Since the rent is so low they will be required to do the maintenance and the other things the landlord might normally be expected to do. They're required to improve the building... That section will need to be defined for each building. But even small cosmetic changes tell everyone that something is happening. Big improvements enhance the value of your property. And other armadillos, or foxes still living here, will want a piece of the action. They want to be locked in at a low rate and–"

"And I'm going broke in the meanwhile."

"No, you're not going broke. I'll bet you've got some money piled up somewhere. And you're not getting anything now for empty buildings– Ah, here it is. If someone expects that low rent they've got to submit a business plan to you first. You look it over. Bad plan, no long term at good rates. You don't own everything downtown, but you own enough that you can control the shape of the future. Main street won't be a line of depressing junk shops, it will have solid businesses in it. And remember, I said your renters will want Fox Ridge to come back as fast as possible. The faster it comes back, the better their profits. So, while you may not be making a lot in rent, they will want to invest the profits they earn in improving things so they can make even more. One person can't do this, but a lot of animals, plowing profits back into improvements, could pull it off."

"Its a gamble for me."

"It's a gamble for anyone who signs it too. Like I said, success feeds on success. You push a few changes, other animals will want to see changes. Everyone still living here will be happier and optimistic. Start with basic places. That armadillo on the porch yesterday talking with mom... Four or five places could open right away, a coffee shop, bakery, the old drug store, and a grooming shop–"

"There's not enough grooming in the world to help an armadillo. They are ugly!"

"They're your resource. And there is a chance they regard our furry mugs as ugly. And it'll be a place for foxes too – shampoo, trim, pedicure, whatever."

"And there's no way that a drugstore can compete with the prices of GigaMart in Plainview."

"Low rent will give them a chance. It's four in the afternoon. You realize you need more baby formula, immediately. You drive a half hour to Plainview, fight the crowds at GigaMart for half an hour, and drive a half hour home with screaming, hungry baby – or you run down to Main Street and pay a credit more? The hassle factor makes shopping here worth the difference."

"Maybe."

"Definitely. And the required improvement for that building? Bring the old lunch counter back to life fairly soon. The grill can wait, but give animals the chance to order an old-fashioned lemon phosphate or a strawberry malt. It can work. Oh, and egg creams – poultry plant, egg cream? They'll sell."

Charles looked puzzled, "A drink with eggs?"

"No. No eggs, or cream, in an egg cream. And they make canids sick. But some animals love them... Maybe there's some fake chocolate that won't–"

"And it's called an egg cream?"

"I didn't name it. Popular on the lower east side in Zootopia. Oh, do you own the grocery store?"

"No. Greene owns the building."

"You need to get him on board. Fix the grocery. Reopen it. Let foxes and armadillos shop in town."

"He's so old, you can't expect him–"

"He needs to manage things rather than trying to do it all himself. There are a lot of animals who'd be willing to work for him. He's still here, so he's got some feeling for the town. He needs to... There're animals who'd work for practically nothing, if it counted to owning the business when he retires or dies in harness. They can keep the name, Greene's Grocery."

Charles thought a moment. "The grocery needs to be fixed. Those are businesses that might work, if the rent was low enough."

"You'd have armadillos willing to sign leases tomorrow."

"But for real prosperity you had a couple more steps. Those won't happen tomorrow."

"No, they won't. Improving the economy and getting out the information Fox Ridge is coming back."

"And you have a blueprint for that too, I imagine."

Nick wasn't sure if his uncle was sarcastic in the comment or serious, but plunged ahead. "First, keep more Fox Ridge money in Fox Ridge instead of sending it out. Use local resources. It was a small local market, people didn't know what they could find here, and it was too much trouble to come. It's now the internet age. We can get Fox Ridge products known all over the world, and ship anywhere–"

"Fox Ridge products?"

"Use all available resources. Not much farming by foxes, but this was a small hub for the marmots, skunks, possums and other animals farming the valleys. Farming has changed to agribusiness, but animals are getting concerned with the food we eat. Whole networks on cable television devoted to cooking shows. Farmers' markets will draw buyers. The bigger the farmers market, the more animals will come, and from greater distances. Raccoons will do anything for fresh sweet corn. You can buy it at the grocery store, but you don't know who picked it, or when, or where, or how long is sat in a warehouse, or how far it was shipped – or you can buy it from the grower, who picked it that morning with his own paw. Charge the growers a reasonable fee to set up... The car dealership would be a good spot. Promise them the money they pay for a spot will go into advertising the farmers market and hiring some group to provide music. Doesn't matter what the music is: blue grass, garage rock, high school jazz group... There are groups that will work for almost nothing just to get themselves heard–"

"No profits again? And you promised Fox Ridge products."

"Sorry. Thinking long term. The farmers market itself makes no profit. But animals spend money at the businesses downtown. They see Fox Ridge is coming back and tell others. They begin to see Fox Ridge as a destination to visit. It'll take time. Products. Tie in the farmers markets with specialty foods. Go to the local harvest fests. Find the the blue ribbon winners in different categories in food competition. Offer five creds a jar for one hundred jars of the winning–"

"Five hundred credits! For a hundred jars of pickled beets? Are you insane?"

"Crazy like a fox. Fox Ridge label – the guarantee of quality. Twelve credits a jar on-line, shipped anywhere. Limited edition, canned, signed and numbered by the winner of the blue ribbon. There will be buyers. Popular things will sell out quickly because of the limits. Children or grandchildren will buy jars to show off. And if jalapeno jelly doesn't sell well... Grab bags of less popular items, five different jars for twenty-five creds. Turn that small market building into a high end showplace. The local winning foods. Maple syrup from local squirrels. Then add exotic spices, twenty-five year old cheddar, truffles... Animals that come for the farmer's market will buy a few luxury items after buying sweet corn at the farmers market and having a cup of espresso and something fresh from the bakery."

Charles smiled, "You make it sound possible."

"It is possible. Oh, speaking of quality. If I were you?"

"Yes."

"Your woodworking skills."

"That's my hobby. A Meadows does not make shelves for other animals."

"You claimed it just takes tools and practice. You've got the tools. You could teach armadillos or foxes. They'd be the carpenters. You'd be the owner, manager, designer, or anything else you wanted to be. Custom made executive desks?" Nick pointed at his uncle's desk, "Easily twenty thousand. Or more, depending on the woods and features–"

"Starting at fifteen thousand," Charles smiled. "That would be for a single pedestal desk. Executives would want a double pedestal. Those would start at twenty. And armadillos work cheap."

"Uh, you need to pay better than they'd get at the poultry plant. You might want to look up Robert Owens and his Lanark factory. Paid the best wages in the industry, offered workers the most perks, and ended up with fantastically loyal workers and high productivity. Good wages will bring you the best and brightest. Don't pay fairly and they'll start their own company."

Charles fell silent, tapping his paw in thought. "Tiered wages. Apprentice level when they don't know a tack hammer from a claw hammer to master workers who can be given a job and trusted to work without supervision."

Nick nodded in agreement. "And maybe some custom furniture too, like the table?"

"Of course. Not all shorts are the same size any more than all larges are exactly the same size. Even chairs and couches... Start with mission and Shaker and–"

Nick held up his hand, "Excuse me? You're talking another language."

"Classic styles, but relatively simple. Even apprentices could handle some of the elements."

"Put a few pictures on-line, get a few orders. If you're producing quality the orders will expand. Fox Ridge needs goals for a few years down the road. Get a roasting machine in the coffee shop. The smell of beans roasting? On roasting days animals will line up to get a bag of coffee beans, still warm. More places to eat. If a weasel shows up wanting–

"A weasel shows his face in Fox Ridge and I'll have him run out of town!"

"You're still not getting it," Nick sighed. "The places that thrive accept diversity. If you go back to the days when no animal but a fox felt safe after dark here there's no hope. If a weasel shows up here wanting to open a gelato place, Fox Ridge is back. Animals will travel for a good weasel gelato, and weasels won't be interested in a dead place. You need goals for a few years down the road, and the town needs long range goals. Some variety in places to eat is a mid-term goal. A fine dining restaurant where animals expect to drop a hundred credits each on a meal is long term. You own the old theater?"

"No."

"You could get it cheap, I'll bet. The cost of the land."

"Cheaper, it'll cost money to tear it down."

"Wrong! That is a long term restoration project."

"I don't have enough money to repair that thing!"

"You start it as a long term goal. It shows you believe in future. Other animals will see it will help Fox Ridge, they'll invest to get people coming here. Live broadcasts of football games! Live broadcasts of concerts. Film fests! Something happening every weekend in Fox Ridge to draw animals to see. And they'll eat here. And eventually they'll get tired of coming here every weekend and move here."

The two talked about plans. Charles owned the small old hotel, but pronounced it impossible to renovate. Bed and breakfast options were discussed. The need to set building codes to protect the architectural integrity seemed obvious. Pressure could to be brought on the owners of the cheap bar and filthy gas station to raise their standards. Was there any way to pitch the city's efforts as a reality program?

Charles walked to the sideboard. A crystal decanter filled with an amber liquid was on a tray on the top, but Charles opened a door and brought out a dusty bottle. "The quality stuff." He nodded at the crystal decanter. "Good, but for a special occasion I bring this out." He filled two shot glasses. "You can get armadillos here as soon as tomorrow to talk about details?"

"I think I can."

"Will you stay? I'd like them to hear you."

"Um... I'll stay, if you want. But they don't want to hear a wise ass outsider describe a dream and get in his car drive back to Zootopia. They need to know there's someone here who believes in the future of Fox Ridge and will do everything he can to bring it about."

"Mind if I steal some of your ideas?"

"I'm flattered. Oh, couple minor points. That ice house. There's got to be something to–"

"Imagine a small carousel in the middle. Or imagine it as a roller rink. Imagine it developed some way to keep children entertained while parents shop, or go the spa, or watch a game. Make it nice enough and bored children will demand their parents bring them to Fox Ridge. And the parents will have to enjoy coffee and pastries while the children play at the ice house."

Nick laughed, "You are a Meadows, already planning. I'm glad I didn't need Plan B."

"Plan B?"

"Eliminate you. I have a hamster friend in forensics who has half a dozen poisons no medical examiner out here could trace."

"You're joking, right?"

"About planning to poison you? Just a joke. But Doc Wheeler knows poisons that would have looked like natural causes."

"No, I meant you're joking when you call a hamster friend."

"Hopefully in ten years of working with other species he'll get better," Nick prayed. "Seriously. Remember, you need to welcome all species. Oh, a special request. Let Mom and Isabella open a fabric store, dress shop, whatever in the old video arcade."

"A Meadows does not work retail."

"She's a Wilde by marriage. Call it a hobby, like woodworking is your hobby. Probably never make much, but every spark of life on Main Street kindles hope. She might also hear things about the armadillo community of use."

Charles shrugged, "I suppose... You realize I may be too old to see Fox Ridge thrive again."

"You've got a lot of miles left on you."

"Maybe. The city has always had a Meadows to... It needs a Meadows. You believe in Fox Ridge, drop the rabbit and move back. This could all be yours."

"Sorry, but the rabbit and I are together. I'm Wild Bill's son, I believe in loving dangerously."

"That's... I guess you're right."

"Chance or Coral, they're the obvious choices."

"They deserted me, deserted Fox Ridge."

"I've never understood why animals look down on rats deserting a sinking ship. They should stay aboard? If I'm on a cruise and a rat knocks on the door and screams the ship is going down I'm climbing into the lifeboat with him and the other crew members. Nor can I understand a captain wanting to go down with the ship. Although, in this case the ship wasn't necessarily going down – but you were apparently steering for the rocks."

"They still deserted me."

"They were looking for a future, and didn't see one here. Chance might come back."

"He's too happy with his job in Plainview."

"And Coral?"

"If you haven't noticed, Coral is a vixen."

"I had noticed," Nick sighed. "Uncle, you are positively neolithic."

"What?"

"There has been a recent discovery you are obviously unaware of. A penis between your legs is not a prerequisite for intelligence, vision, or bravery. There are a lot of very capable females out there. I don't know Coral well, but she might be exactly what Fox Ridge needs."

---

Nick arrived at the park for the final minutes of the game, although he was too busy talking with his mother and Isabella to watch even that. He excused himself at the end, promising to come back and talk more with the armadillo, and went to Judy.

Judy stood with the teens, Streak begging for some pointers, when Nick approached. The vixen stared, then greeted him with a flirty, "Hi! New in town?"

Judy quickly grabbed Nick's arm in a possessive manner, "Nick, this is Streak, she's a wonderful player and helped today. Oh, and this is Carl." The armadillo nodded at the introduction. "Nick and I are just visiting in town. Joshua is Nick's nephew."

"Hey, I need Jude for a minute, okay?" Nick told the teens. "She can come back."

"You can come back too," Streak called as the adults left. "How long will you be in Fox Ridge?"

"I can't believe you were jealous of that child," Nick said when the two stood under a tree away from the others.

"She's not a child, and I was not jealous."

"She's a child, and you were jealous... You know... if she were maybe ten years older..."

Judy stepped on his foot.

'"See you were jealous," Nick commented, taking Judy in his arms. "And I can't imagine why. You're wonderful."

"Maybe if you told me that more often I'd feel more secure."

"I don't deserve you. Maybe you should go back to that Rick jerk."

"Don't say a word against Rick. He was always nice to me."

"So unlike me." Nick nuzzled Judy's ear and whispered, "You're wonderful. You're incredible. I love you. But I'm afraid there's bad news, Fluff."

Judy moaned softly, "Don't do that in public! Bad news? Uncle Charlie didn't like your ideas?"

"Bad news is, he liked them," Nick told her as the rabbit pushed him away from her ear.

"That's bad?"

"He wants me to stay and give him some support in a meeting tomorrow. We won't be able to leave early for Zootopia tomorrow, it'll be way late by the time we get back. Want to rethink making love in the backseat of a car?"

"No, I don't. I can wait until Monday night."

"Why don't you go give some pointers to the teens. I need to talk to Isabella, get the names of some armadillos. I may even talk with them this evening. Sorry."

"It's for Fox Ridge? It's important?"

"It is."

"I'm okay... Maybe there'll even be time for a game or some practice tomorrow morning."

He took her back in his arms and started to nuzzle her ears again. "You're wonderful."

"And you're driving me crazy," she moaned. "I can wait if you leave my ears alone."

"Maybe I like my bunny all hot and bothered."

"Maybe you want me jumping you in front of your mother at dinner tonight."

Nick sighed, and stopped, "I will respect your ears – while we're here."

"And other parts of my anatomy?"

He leered at her, "I promise to respect your ears. The rest of you is still in play."

---

Did you get the joke with fox of steal, or did you think it was a typo? (Or are you now scratching your head and wondering what in the heck I'm talking about?)