Summary: Someone asked how it would be possible for Nick or Judy have to use a typewriter in the canon setting. Answer, probably never going to happen.

Notes: Warning: Written quickly, was not beta'ed, edits are not in depth. Will continue to edit and refine if I spot problems.

"I bet this is the start of the hacker uprising, the nerds have risen up. They said viruses and shit could take out the city's grid for years, but did they listen? No-"

"Zoobook says it's because some idiot ran his truck into a transformer in the Canals which caused a massive electrical short which caused a cascading overload which overloaded the civilian and commercial power grids." Detective Judy Hopps said as she checked her news feed, dim emergency lighting in the precinct casting odd shadows around her. She looked up to Fangmire, the wolf that shared the opposite side of the cubicle node, with a tired unamused look. She had worked patrol with him, and he had come up into Major Crimes with her and Nick...but god...did he have a mouth. As well as the mindset that they lived in a Tom Clawley novel.

Dingdoodoodoo...

Judy sighed as her phone powered down, and Francine lumbered up pushing a cart. The elephant was still working patrol, in her Service Set As, Judy missed those heady days. When you only had to hand write your booking and incident reports on the premade forms in the Bullpen.

"Chief gave the okay to raid the Kit's down the block, let there be light!" She trumpeted with a smile before slamming down a few battery powered lanterns.

"Great...and they didn't loan us camp generators?" Judy asked, twitching. If they just had some power, they could still turn in their paperwork. She needed to finish up typing and printing out dozens of various arrest records, case reports, and affidavits.

"Nah, they got cleaned up before we got there." Francine replied, before she stomped off cheerily.

"Grrr..." Judy leaned back into her chair and just groaned. Why did this happen to her today? It was Friday, now she'd have to do overtime on Monday just to catch up.

"Relax Carrots, you're going to give yourself a ulcer. Take a nap." Nick said simply from her right. He had been putting his own advice into action, his paws kicked up onto his desk and a sleep mask over his eyes. Why he even had one of those fleece throw blankets.

"Future you is going to hate you for that Nick, now wake up we got work to do." Judy said huffily, she then pushed his paws off the desk. Nick's chair creaked and thumped as his paws hit the ground.

"Touche." Fangmire commented with a laugh. "Hmm, Wilde, you're old. How did they do this back in your day?"

"...I'm only thirty-four! And you got three years on me in seniority!" Nick protested, slamming his hands down. He growled at Fangmire. "Don't make me start a howl, snowy..."

"You wouldn't." Fangmire narrowed his eyes.

The two canines stared down at each other.

Judy hummed...yes...how did the cops of yore handle this? There was probably some old supplies somewhere, typewriters and such. She hopped off her chair and headed towards the Chief's office. She would need his permission to go start digging in storage.

Her ears perked as she neared Bogo's office, a clacking sound coming from behind the door. So there were typewriters in the building! She knocked, which prompted the clacking to stop.

"Enter!" Came the deep voice of her Chief, Judy peaked her head in.

"Sir, I was wondering-" Judy paused as she looked at the scene. Bogo was wearing only a wife beater, his uniform shirt hung on a rack in the corner, a small typewriter sat in front of him.

He looked over his spectacles at Judy.

"It's hot without air conditioning." He said simply, narrowing his eyes. Judy nodded rapidly in agreement...though she could not help but stare at the sight.

One did not just see Mwana Bogo out of uniform.

"Hopps!"

"Ah! Yes sir." She entered the room and saluted promptly. Bogo felt his cheek twitch.

"...?" He stared at her, slowly growing less generous.

"Ah. I mean. Urm. Sir...I have...a...urm...question..." Judy stuttered as she dropped the salute awkwardly.

"Spit it out Hopps." Bogo sighed, reaching up to pinch his snout. Strangely enough he left a slight white stain on his fur.

"Urm..." Judy hesitated.

"Hopps." Bogo began to stand up.

"Um. I was just wondering, do we have any typewriters in storage? You see, there's a clog in paperwork." Judy started, before Bogo held up his hand.

"This station was built in '98, the ZPD replaced all typewriters with computers in '96...why would there be any in this building?" Bogo asked rhetorically.

"But..." Judy eyes flicked towards the typewriter on Bogo's desk. Bogo's eyes flicked towards it with her.

"...I brought it from home." Bogo said simply.

"...that is not weird Hopps, do you have any other pressing paperwork issues that need attending? If so, I don't care." Bogo said as he returned to writing. Clack, clack, clack. "Ah." He made a straggled noise as he pulled out a little bottle of White Out and leaned in.

Judy slowly backed out of the room.

Perhaps it was best there were no other typewriters in the building.