Once again, in the city of Zootopia, the place where anyone can be anything, the city was covered in a blanket of pure white. The train station was decked out in lighted colours and wreaths, and the juice bar was taking advantage of the cold weather with sugary, cream hot chocolate. Passengers were emerging from the train that had stopped not long ago, wearing winter coats and carry huge bags of presents for the families they were visiting for the one precious holiday. They all piled out as they entered the white city and above a tall building, Gazelle, the Angel with Horns, greeted Krismasi Njema.
Yet Christmas isn't always known for perfection, due to situations that cannot be helped, neither with characters. As it happens, there were seven of them right now, leaving the station in a confident stride: a woodchuck, a bear, a wolf, a gorilla, a raccoon, a jaguar and a white tigress. All of them were wearing black suits (except the tigress who wore a black suit dress) and black overcoats. Including the fact that they all wore sunglasses despite the winter.
Seth Buckwood, the woodchuck, was leading the group as they headed for the taxi location, five minutes away from the train station. The woodchuck requested a taxi to share each as they were driven to the same location in Tundra Town.
Hector Moone, the wolf, shivered as their taxis pulled away from their location, a bare field of snow.
"Couldn't we have at least asked them to drop us closer to Rainforest District?"
"Risky," replied the white tigress who went by the name of Crystal Whitefang. "There's a certainty the cops will be onto us when they inquire with the drivers. If they do, they'll be looking here for weeks."
"Let's go," said Buckwood. "Keep to the shadows of the night."
"Not a problem," boasted the jaguar, called Norman Prowle. "Being a black kitty, I'm invisible to anything art night, even if it's a suit. Come tom thing of is, I'm surprised none of you sliced to coat yourself black."
"Well I certainly don't need to," growled the black gorilla, Ken Poundeath.
"If you stripped yourself showing your silver back, then you'd get your brains in gear and dye it-"
"Fancy shutting up until we get to where we need to be?" snapped the raccoon, Terrence Arrowtale, at the jaguar.
Rainforest District had no snow whatsoever, and there was not much to think of in this location. The very reason these seven villains were now arriving and making their way to the hideout. They had reached the bottom road and Buckwood was looking around to make sure no one was around.
"Clear," he said as reached into his pocket brought out a very flat remote with a shiny button, as black as the whole cable. He pointed is at nearby bush and nuts and screws could be heard unfastening. Then the cement of the road lifted like the lid of a garbage can revealing steps leading down below, the width being wide enough for even a bear like Rocklaw and a gorilla like Poundeath. They all hurried down, Buckwood climbing in last and making sure nobody saw them. At this, he closed the door and ascended down after his partners.
The room underground was rather sophisticated for their own reputation, a carpet around the room and plasma television. The ceiling was almost a complete air vent and there were nine passages: seven bedrooms for each resident, a bathroom and kitchen.
Everyone went to change out of their suits, all except Buckwood who turned the television on to see if they had been tracked. He switched to the news channel and listened carefully to the words he was hoping not to hear but sort of expected:
The Slicers have escaped yet again to another country, seven criminals that the police department, Wildeglade Security Force, have been on the hunt for ever since 2016 after a terrorism of burning down a fox orphanage that resided in Critter Forest, resulting the death of a large number fox cubs and their owner. Officer Nick Wilde immediately suspected the ringleader as Seth Buckwood, in the result of a bullying fate in their youth.
An image of a chubby fox appeared by the side of the screen. Buckwood was quite relieved to know that he at least knew what Nick Wilde looked like, so he can quickly do him in like all the other scout members who expressed remorse for the way they behaved all those years. Every throat he slit, and he found these six other partners who agreed 100% on him that foxes were not worthy to live.
(One of the operators behind the camera gulped in embarrassment upon realising he had edited an image of the fox baker, Gideon Grey who had recently made the news about his pastries hitting great success around Zootopia)
Further evidence comes from the chief of WSF, Chief Bilbo Oz and we will know air onto him with the info he has to share.
The screen switched to a very muscular and handsome kangaroo with orange eyes and golden fur.
Thank you, mate. These members of the Slicers are as they follow:
Buckwood watched as each picture changed from one name to the next.
Terrence Arrowtale, Seth Buckwood, Hector Moone, Ken Poundeath, Norman Prowle and Crystal Whitefang. All are suspected to have boarded the train to Zootopia. I was given reports of all seven wearing black suits and sunglasses. I have already sent a message to the ZPD and they responded that is would be honour for them for us, the Wildeglade Security Force, will be coming to Zootopia to collaborate with them and finding these crooks before they spill anymore blood.
"We already have vigilance as our priority," remarked Buckwood as the others returned. "They suspect where we are."
"Of course they would," replied Arrowtale, lighting a cigarette. "With a cope being a fox, they are bound to smell us out."
"Well, I say we got a chance," said Buckwood. "He put on a few pounds. Clearly he bakes when not handcuffing people."
"And shower duty!" said Prowle proudly.
"Why so prideful to bring that up?" inquired Rockclaw.
"You calling me gay?" interrogated Prowle looked up to the bear. "We know what goes on when we strip and-"
"We get the idea," snapped Whitefang. "Now shut up."
"Why?" replied Prowle defensively. "'Cause I'm a jaguar I gotta shut up?"
"Because I'm a lady you gotta shut up," replied Whitefang. "Because you're the jaguar you always have to play the victim!"
"Why don't you both shut up so I can talk?" rebuked Buckwood.
Both Whitefang and Prowle glared at each other before turning the woodchuck.
"So what do we do?" asked Poundeath. "If they suspect where we are, we'll be risking hiding here."
"This is Zootopia," said Buckwood as he stared at the screen before turning out off with the remote. "Animals of their kind are alike. We just simply walk around the area like we live here. We simply go about our business and find Wilde. Remember, he's a fat fox who bakes pies when he's not on duty. We've got our sunglasses to keep each other updated."
The sunglasses they wore had the ability to contact the group like a walkie-talkie. Very difficult to identify was that the sunglasses had earplugs that could connect to their ears.
They were all understanding to his strategy and Buckwood himself felt a strong hunger. Hunger to bring the loser scout Nick Wilde down. He remembered that very evening they tricked him into joining a scout group at the Junior Ranger Scouts. He said in the initiation that he would swear to be brave loyal, helpful and trustworthy. But he immediately made him see reason why a fox wasn't eligible to being a scout; he assaulted him with his former friends and muzzled him and sent him crying home to his mommy. But know his former friends regretted those actions and he had to do away with them, precisely why he fled from Zootopia. But upon learning that Wilde was now a cop he would make sire he would no longer live. He won that night, and he would win again.
"Say, Buckwood?" said Moone.
"What?"
"Suppose Wilde had a family?"
"What's his mama gonna do?"
"Moone means pups," clarified Whitefang.
Buckwood pondered but smiled grimly
"Hold them ransom. Daddy will come to the rescue and it's rest in peace, Daddy."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" announced Prowle, a total rookie. "Are we forgetting something? The jaguar's got the mind set on the basics. They are foxes. Ain't there a chance they'll outwit us before we get to the kid if any?"
"It's a kid if anything, Prowle," snorted Buckwood. "Kids are clueless, especially fox cubs."