"Okay, let's try this again," Dakota stood opposite Todd in his apartment. Todd held a clipboard and a glossy new flyer from the thousand-count box sitting beside the door. On it, his face beamed beside the words 'Fighting for Animal Rights' along with a few bullet points of his main issues and a reference to the campaign website. The fox who smiled on the leaflet was currently attempting to hide frustration and exhaustion as Dakota tried to teach him how to doorbell.
Todd affected the most genuine-seeming smile he could. "Hello Dakota, my name is Todd Renard and-"
"How do you know my name?" Dakota was acting out various scenarios where things could go poorly.
"When you register to vote, candidates have access to data such as your name and address. My name is Todd Renard and I'm running for mayor of Zootopia. I want to see Zootopia become a city where anyone can truly become anything," after several run-throughs, Todd was finally starting to feel comfortable with the scenarios. "Is this something that interests you?"
"Sure, of course, but why should I vote for you? Turnbull is saying the same thing about his platform," Dakota crossed her arms.
"Yes, of course. I have extensive experience defending animal rights in court, most notably during the Bellwether incident. Further, while Turnbull claims his platform will create a Zootopia for all animals, his proposals disproportionately hurt predators," Todd handed Dakota the pamphlet. "I'm also interested in hearing what my fellow Zootopians want to see from their city. Are there any issues that are particularly important to you?"
"Not that I can think of," Dakota looked over the flyer.
"Great, well can I count on your support on election day?" Todd extended a paw.
"I'll definitely consider it," Dakota shook it.
"Fantastic. Thank you and have a great rest of your day," Todd let out a deep breath as Dakota dropped character. "That would have been a 'support', right? How was that?"
"You should have handed me the flyer when you said your name, but otherwise you did fine. You dealt with that initial hostility well. You're right, you'd put that down as 'support'. I think you're about ready to get started for real," Dakota returned the flyer. "We'll start you off easy. I've printed out a list of likely voters in your apartment building. You should be able to finish it by the end of the day."
As Dakota handed Todd the bundle of papers covered with his neighbors' names, Hubert let himself into the apartment. Now it was the pig's turn to get trained. Todd almost felt bad for Hubert after going through Dakota's Doorbelling Day Course. Todd said a quick goodbye to the both of them as he grabbed a stack of handouts and stepped out.
Todd stood in front of the door to another apartment in his building. His heart raced as he clutched a flyer in one hand and his clipboard in the other. He mentally thanked Dakota for making him ditch the tie he'd worn out before. She said it would make him look too stuffy, that a casual yet nice button-down shirt and pants would sell better to voters. Todd was just happy to not have anything remotely noose-like around his neck.
Nevertheless, his breath felt shallow. Practicing with Dakota in the comfort of his own apartment was one thing, but bothering a stranger at home? That was something else entirely. Anything could happen. The couple of scenarios that Dakota had trained him in couldn't possibly cover everything that could go wrong. He could just leave a flyer at the door and walk away, mark them down as not home and be done with it. That would be the easiest thing to do, and he would still get his name out there to an extent, and-
Todd forced himself to take a deep breath. No, he could do this. It would be fine. He reached for the door, paw clenched into a fist. He knocked.
Nothing happened.
A part of him breathed a sigh of relief, yet another part was a bit annoyed. After a moment, he knocked again; again without response. Todd slid a handout between the door frame and the knob; marked the box labeled "not home" next to the name on his clipboard; and moved to the next apartment listed, slightly less tense and with slightly more real expectations.
The door opened. A donkey the clipboard identified as Murad Himar stood half-dressed, arms crossed and his slippered foot tapping.
"Hello, Murad, my name is-" Todd began
"I'm not interested in whatever it is you're selling, fox," the last word sounded like a slur coming out of the donkey's mouth.
"Well I'm not actually selling anything, sir," Todd said, holding a leaflet toward Murad. "I'm running for mayor. My name is Todd Renard."
Murad rolled his eyes. "A fox running for mayor? Who do you think you're fooling?"
Todd's ear twitched as he kept a professional smile plastered to his face. "Fooling, sir? I'm afraid I don't understand."
"Don't you try your sly double-talk with me, fox."
"Sir, if you don't think I'm trustworthy, I can tell you that I have extensive experience defending animal rights in-"
Murad produced a canister of fox repellent from beside the door. "You have until the count of five to be gone."
"But sir-"
"One,"
"Sir, if I could just-"
"Two,"
"Fine. I'm gone," Todd turned his back. The door slammed behind him. For a moment he was frozen, his mind clouded by emotions: anger at the interaction, fear for what it meant for the campaign to come, but most importantly the same defiance that allowed him to keep his idealism in a world determined to quash it. He looked down at the clipboard, marked Murad as "highly unlikely support", and moved on.
"Todd, what are you doing here?" The elderly vixen squinted through thick lenses.
"Good afternoon, Mrs. Crevan. How are you today?" Todd extended a paw to her.
"Oh, strangers shake hands," Mrs. Crevan pulled Todd into a surprisingly tight hug given her small, frail frame. Years ago, Mrs. Crevan had been one of Todd's high school teachers and the only fox teacher he'd ever had. They'd kept in touch over the years, and she had convinced her landlord to rent an apartment out to him in the same building.
Todd laughed. "It's good to see you again. I'm here because I'm running for mayor actually," he peeled a flyer from the stack and handed it to her, stirring up memories of handing in essays in history class.
The old woman pretended to look over the page even though Todd knew she couldn't read a thing anymore with a magnifier. After a pause she said in a small voice "You're running for mayor?"
"Yes, ma'am," Todd beamed. "I want to make this city better for everyone."
"I know you will. You've always been a big-hearted child," Mrs. Crevan's voice choked up a bit. "A fox running for mayor. I never thought I'd live to see the day."
"Yes, ma'am," Todd could feel himself choking up too. "Can I count on your support?"
"What kind of stupid question is that? Of course you can," Mrs. Crevan pulled him into another, longer hug. While holding him, she whispered "Thank you."
"No, thank you, Mrs. Crevan," Todd was released. "For everything. If it weren't for you, I don't know where I'd be,"
"Don't give me so much credit. You were never going to let anyone stop you. Now you have a good day," the vixen smiled. "And good luck. Lord knows you'll need it."
"Thank you, and have a great day," Todd said as she closed the door. As soon as she was gone, he made his way to the stairwell, sat down, and cried.