The Fire Triangle, A Zootopia Fanfiction -- Part One: Fuel - 56

Disclaimer: Zootopia stories, characters, settings, and properties belong to the Walt Disney Co. This story is written under Fair Use Copyright laws.

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The Fire Triangle—A Zootopia Fanfiction

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Part One:

Fuel

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Chapter 6—Nick's Story

(Continued...Pt. 6)

"Hold it, hollld it...Time! Out!"

Judy Hopps formed a 'T' with her paws and thrust them in Nick Wilde's direction. The move gave her the appearance of a sorceress, casting a spell to make a demon revel its true identity. Her brow was furrowed and her nose was twitching; her long, bunny-ears seemed to be glued to the back of her neck. This was all she could stand and she couldn't stand no more.

"Wh-What, Carrots?" Nick was staring at her in confusion.

Judy responded by getting up out of her seat and putting her paws on her hips. Even though she was a head and a half short than the fox, she appeared to tower over him.

"All right, Slick," she said, narrowing an eye, "I can see one, measly, little arrest getting past the ZPD's pre-hiring background check...but do you seriously expect me to believe that the Department somehow managed to miss the fact that you were convicted of a felony and sent to prison? Excuse me, but no bunny is THAT dumb!"

She braced herself for the inevitable angry comeback...which wasn't so inevitable; her traveling companion only heaved a weary sigh.

"I know Judy...that's a big reason why I never told you about any of this; even to me it sounds ridiculous." He held up a paw and put the other one over his heart. "But I swear to you that it's true, Carrots, all of it. And when you hear the rest of the story, you'll understand how I was able to get into the ZPD Academy even after being sent to prison." And then without warning, his face changed and suddenly HE was the one arching an eyebrow and it was his voice taking on an edge, "for a crime I didn't commit; don't forget that part."

Judy blinked and then sat down again, chastened if not thoroughly chastened. In the rush of surprise over the fox's revelation she HAD forgotten that he'd been wrongfully convicted.

But still... going from Lemmingworth Penitentiary to the ZPD Academy? That sounded like a stunt even Howldini wouldn't have touched. By all rights, Nick should have left that prison in a meat-wagon. Over coffee one morning Claire Swinton had confided to Judy that back in the day, Lemmingworth had been a house of horrors. It was one of the main reasons the city had elected to privatize its prison system, a thoroughly lame excuse in the eyes of the pig-cop and former correctional officer. "Lemmingworth was cleaned up long before Aker Correctional came to town," she had said.

Maybe so, but that clean-up had taken place a long time AFTER Nick Wilde was sent to The Greenhouse. How had he managed to survive the ordeal?

Well, there was only one sure way to find out. Judy held up her paws in a placating gesture.

"Sorry Nick, sorry. Please...go ahead with your story."

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"It was my third day on the inside; I was housed in the orientation wing, awaiting my cell assignment. I remember it being late in the morning; I was lounging on my concrete bunk, reading a three year old magazine and hoping that my regular cell would be better than this 'thing.' So far I'd managed to keep out of trouble, but I knew that any real challenges would come after I hit the general population."

"'Hey,' I heard a voice say, and at the same time a shadow fell over me. I tensed, but then relaxed when I caught the scent of my own species."

"I rolled over and sat up. There were actually a total of three other foxes outside of my holding cell, a grey fox, a swift fox, and a red fox, like myself. The swift fox seemed to be the animal in charge. I'll call him 'D'."

"'What's your name kid?' he asked me."

"'Nick Wilde,' I answered."

"He either didn't recognize the name, or didn't care."

"'Where you from?'"

"'Happytown, Zootopia."

"'Who do you know?'"

"I mentioned my partner, Finnick."

"'Yeah Finnick, he's good foxes,' D told me. It kind of annoyed me that he knew my partner's name but not mine. 'Who else?'"

"I named a few other animals I'd known back in Zootopia. My visitors only seemed to recognize one of them, but then I remembered something else and said, "I know Mr. Big, I've done work for him."

"That was a name you had BETTER believe they recognized, Carrots. They all looked at each other and then nodded."

"All right," D said, "When you get into general population, you'll stay with us. We'll teach you what you need to know...and how to survive in this stinkin' prison."

"We all shook on it and they left. When I was moved into general population a few days later, the gray fox, whose name was Chuy Arroyo, conducted me to D's cell where he and some the others read me the rules."

"'First of all, take an oath never to snitch on anybody while you're in here; that includes the guards, not just the prisoners. You got problems with anyone, you bring it to us, not the hacks, you follow what I'm bringing out?'"

"I nodded, and he went on. The number two rule was one I really didn't care for."

"'If another prisoner crosses you, you have to fight him. And don't hold back, do what you gotta do, even if it means killing the guy. Remember, if you don't kill him, he'll kill you.'"

"'Uhmm, what if the other guy's a tiger?' I asked, and they all laughed."

"'Not gonna happen amigo." Chuy Arroyo told me, with a slap on the back, "They got all a' the large predators housed over in B Block. It's small preds only, here in D."

"'Okay,' I said. I still wasn't thrilled with the idea of having to fight anybody, but I wasn't about to say so in front of these foxes."

"Most of the other rules seemed like minor stuff to me...but not to D or any of the others; they made it sound like a matter of life and death...and given my current address, I suspected that was probably true."

"'There are no 'inmates' in The Greenhouse, Nick." D told me, "everyone's a prisoner; you call someone in here an inmate to his face and that's an invitation to a fight."

"And the guards are the GUARDS, Shaygets," Eli 'Greasy' Shual put in, "never 'correctional officers, you got that?"

Eli was a Blanford's Fox, the oldest member of the crew. A cranky, old buzzard, he'd been in and out of prison for most of his life. He'd gotten his nickname from a jailbreak he'd pulled the third time he went inside. He'd drenched himself in motor oil and slid out through a drainpipe, I don't know all the details. He was caught less than an hour later, but after that, everybody started calling him 'Greasy' and the name stuck. He wore it like a badge of honor."

"Next, D told me the rules of the yard. 'Every crew has their own table out there. Never, never sit down at a table that don't belong to our crew, not without permission or an invitation. And never take a shortcut past someone else's table without clearing it with them first."

"What they had to say next was anything but trivial, filling me in on the guards, which ones were cool, and which ones were jerks. 'Whatever you do, don't ever lip off to Chops, (Sergeant Rick Diller a black ram) no matter how much he tries to provoke you, just look away and say nothing. That guy hates foxes and he'll use any excuse to give one of us a little thump therapy.'"

"'Yeah, I figured that sheep was bad news when I saw him,' I said, and everybody nodded approvingly."

"'Right, good eye,' Chuy said."

"Last but not least," D told me, "we all stick together in this crew. Anyone who messes with one of us messes with all of us. But understand this, we ain't no suicide squad. When we make a payback, we do it on OUR schedule."

"Over the next few days, I found out what that meant. All told, there were about ten foxes in our crew, myself included. If another prisoner attacked one of our guys in the laundry room, nothing would happen right away. But then a week later, the guilty party might find someone had slipped something into his food that could send him to the ER, or worse...or he might wake up to find someone had padlocked him into his cell and thrown in a stink bomb—or worse. The prisoners housed on the upper levels didn't dare mess with any of us foxes; there's nothing easier to sabotage than a stair step."

"'It's how we gotta roll, Nick,' Chuy Arroyo told me. 'Maybe half a' the other prisoners on this block are species none of us foxes could ever beat in stand-up fight...so we gotta use what's up here to survive.' And to show what he meant, he tapped the side of his head."

"After only a week in general pop, I had to make use of that advice. D had warned me that sooner or later one of the other prisoners was going to test me, and it happened while I was in the chow line one morning. I was just about to grab the last blueberry muffin, when a hog badger elbowed me aside and took it for himself. Almost at once, I could feel the eyes of the other foxes drilling into me. What was I going to do about it?"

"Yes, I know Carrots. A hog-badger is nothing to mess with; they're one of the meanest, ugliest species on the planet, and this one had me beat in both the size and weight...so I did nothing."

"That is, I did nothing until we got to the end of the line, where we picked up our coffee, (or whatever that black stuff was.) I had a little, flat stone in my pocket that I'd snuck in from the yard and just as Mr. Hog Badger reached the coffee station, I dropped it on the floor by his feet. It sounded just like a coin when it hit the concrete, and when he bent down to look, I dumped the coffee dispenser on top of his head and then jumped him."

"I'll spare you the details, Carrots but I ended up spending a week in the infirmary and another three weeks in solitary for that little stunt. Heh, The Hole was actually easier for me than you might think; foxes are a denning species and solitary by nature. When I got out, I found that my status in the crew had risen by something like five notches....and not just because I had shown that I was willing to stand up for myself."

"Jeez, Nick," D said to me, when I saw him, "You said you knew Mr. Big...but why didn't you tell us you were under his protection?"

"'Because I didn't know,' I told him honestly, and went on to explain how Mr. Big had been unable to help me during my trial. 'The DA was trying to use me to get to him; he didn't dare come near me.'"

"Yeah, well he's sure as heck in your corner NOW, boy." Jimmy Lee Marion, a red fox from somewhere down south told me with a grin. "That there badger you got into that fight with can't wait to apologize to y'all. The word's out, son; anyone touches you goan' have to answer to Mr. Big...an' from what I hear, he don't ask easy questions.'"

"Everybody laughed."

"That turned out to be only the beginning of Mr. Big's appreciation for my having refused to give him up, Carrots. Every month, he deposited the full amount in my commissary and saw to it that I was assigned to a job on the loading dock; I never had to lift or carry a thing, just push the button to raise or lower the dock plate. For a fox, the loading dock was an especially plum assignment; I'll get to the reason for that in a minute. Mr. Big also sent me a 'care package' every two weeks...and the guards never once tried to open any of them. (I wisely shared whatever the Big Shrew sent me with the rest of the fox crew.) He even got me re-assigned to a cell on the ground floor. Oh, I guess should explain."

"Lemmingworth's cell blocks were built like giant cake dishes, with the cells clustered in the center, and surrounded by a wall and roof. That design made the place get really warm and humid in the summertime, hence the nickname 'Greenhouse.' It was especially hot and wet on the top two layers of the cellblock. That was fine if you were a jungle species, but I most definitely wasn't. When they moved me to the ground floor I had my best night's sleep since the day I entered Lemmingworth Penitentiary."

"It wasn't just me that Mr. Big was looking after either. When I got back to my cell after talking to D, there was a letter waiting for me on my bunk, (unopened, it hadn't come through the mail, it had been smuggled in.) There was no return address, but when I opened the envelope, it turned out to be from Finnick; the first time I'd heard from him since starting my sentence."

"He was doing his stretch in McSeal Island Penitentiary, on Eweget Sound. (It figured they'd send a desert fox to the wettest prison in the penal system.) He was handling things all right though; like me, he was under Mr. Big's umbrella. He had also managed to join a crew of foxes; when I mentioned it to Chuy Arroyo he told me that his cousin Vicente was part of that group. 'Your compadre'll be okay if he's with those guys, Nick,' he assured me."

"Finnick finished up by telling me that he didn't blame me for everything that had happened. 'No one could have predicted it would end up like this, Nick.' he said...and Carrots, I can't begin to tell you what a load that was off my mind."

"Okay, now let me back up a little. Mr. Big was one sharp shrew, Carrots. He hadn't just gotten me that job on the loading dock because it was a cushy assignment, there was another reason."

"It came from the fact that every crew in D Block had a specialty, the hyenas were the enforcers, the weasels and other mustelids were the prisoner's eyes and ears on the guards, and the raccoons were the scroungers. The jackals and coyotes were the forgers and bootleggers, the bobcats and other feline species ran the prison grapevine, and the foxes? Our thing was smuggling; I don't how Mr. Big knew that, but putting me on the loading dock made certain that I'd be left alone. Now I was also too valuable to touch. Nobody—not in any crew—wanted to hurt the only direct pipeline to the outside in Lemming..."

"No Carrots, we never ran weapons or drugs, but if there was anything else a prisoner wanted from the outside, they came to us. Here's how it worked, the prisoner would go see Greasy and tell him what he needed. If it was something Greasy thought we could handle, he'd set a price, no haggling, take it or leave it, and if the other animal agreed to the deal, the ball went into Jimmy Lee's court; Jimmy had the best connections on the outside. Once he found what the prisoner wanted, it would be Chuy's job to arrange to bring it in. After I started working the loading dock though, that all changed. Now everything came through me, and our crew was able to increase our business in a huge way. We brought in food, toiletries, disposable cell phones, you name it, and with Mr. Big as my guardian angel, the guards never once hassled me. (To keep the peace, I continued to defer to Chuy Arroyo; I couldn't have handled it without him anyway.) It was such an easy deal that we even started bringing in specialty foods for a guy over in Cell Block B, the boss of the Sahara Square mob. Whoa, did we clean up on that...Uh no Carrots, it wasn't the Red Pig; he was only a Captain back then."

"Wait, mmmm...listen Judy, if I'm giving the impression that this was some kind of vacation, believe me, it wasn't. I may have had it easier than most of the other prisoners—but I was still a prisoner myself. And that was never brought home more clearly than the first time Robyn came to see me."

"It wasn't as hard on her as it was for some of the other girlfriends who came to visit—that was another thing I could thank Mr. Big for. The guards didn't paw her or make snotty cracks, and the matrons gave her only a quick patdown. Just the same it was awful for her, and for the first time, I began to question the wisdom of not marrying her before I went away. You see, if Robyn and I been husband and wife, we could have met face to face, but because she was only my girlfriend—the word 'fiancé' didn't exist in the Zootopia penal system vocabulary—we could only communicate by telephone through armored glass."

"The first thing she said to me was, 'You look good, Nick.' And then she kind of grimaced and said, 'No you don't, you look terrible.' That stunned me, Carrots. I thought I was still in pretty decent shape for all I'd been through...but that's what prison does; it eats away at you, bit by bit, so gradually that you don't even notice. When I told Robyn that I loved her, for once it was the wrong thing to say; she managed to tell me 'I love you' back, and then broke down and started crying...ummmm, it's still kind of hard for me to recall the rest of that meeting, so I'll just skip to the end, okay? Our visit ended with her sobbing, 'It's not FAIR, you're innocent!' over and over until they came to tell her that our time was up. I remember two of the matrons trying to help her from the visitor's area, but she pushed them both away. (No meant trick, one was a javelina and the other was an African wild dog.) 'There's NOTHING I want from any of you!' she snarled and then marched out of the room, all dignity."

"Remember what I said about never telling yourself, 'well at least thing things can't get any worse?' That was one of those times. When the guard came to return me to my cell, who should have been assigned as my escort but good old Chops Diller? And as soon as the visiting-room door closed, he went to work on me."

"'Wow, that must really have been hard on you fox, knowing you're stuck inside Lemmingworth, an innocent mammal...while your girlfriend's on the outside, all heartbroken and there's nothing you can do for her.'"

"I wanted to tell that black sheep jerk to knock it off, but I knew it would only encourage him, so I just looked at the floor and kept walking....while he just kept talking."

"'You know, I kind of like you Wilde...you're not bad for a member of your species, so let me give you some advice, better brace yourself, because sooner or later, she's going to meet some other fox on the outside, a guy who'll shower her with sympathy and comfort. That's how it always starts, believe me, I know what I'm talking about, I must have seen it a hundred times in here.'"

"I wanted to slap my paws over my ears; I knew where he was going with this. No-good, woolly dirtbag, he'd found my weak spot."

"'Honestly, I don't know if I could stand it, Wilde. The thought of the lady I love...in the arms of some other guy..."

"I could feel my teeth gnashing together, my lips trying to curl upwards to expose my fangs. I turned away so he couldn't see; I could feel my control slipping away."

"'...while I'm stuck inside, for a crime a didn't commit, helpless to do anything...'"

"'Hey Diller, knock off that stuff.'"

"'Yes, Lieutenant." he answered; he sounded like a lamb, who'd been told to go do his chores. When I looked up, I saw Lieutenant Reed Walters, a black leopard whose attitude towards the prisoners could best be described as 'tough, but fair.'"

"Diller didn't say another word to me until he got me back to D block, and then he offered me this parting comment."

"'Innocent...yeah, like every other fox in here. Don't you morons EVER give it up?'"

"And then he turned and walked away."

"I let his last remark pass without comment; that kind of talk, I could handle. I was still pretty depressed though, and so I went to my cell and started doing push-ups. That was another thing D had taught me; if you wanted to survive in the joint, you needed to keep yourself in shape. Every day he used to do a thousand push-ups, a thousand sit ups, and a thousand deep-knee bends. I once saw him bench press his own weight for a full ten reps."

"And speak of the devil; guess who showed up in front of my cell at just that moment, but a certain swift fox?"

"'Hey I heard about what happened back in Visiting, Nick. You okay?'"

"'I'll live,' I said, but right then I wasn't sure I wanted to; what if Diller was right? But then D's voice went very crisp, that tone he always assumed when he wanted to talk some serious business."

"Hold the push-ups and sit down for a second; I want to speak to you."

"I got up and sat down on the edge of my bunk, waiting while D leaned back against the wall and folded his arms."

"Then he said, 'In our crew there are no secrets, Nick; it's the only way we can trust each other.' He narrowed an eye and tilted his head to the side. 'So I need to know something...innocent, really innocent, or are you just trying to nail down an appeal?'"

"I looked him straight in the eye and repeated what I'd said to the judge. 'Innocent—for real! That's my story and I'm sticking to it.' Then I told him everything I just told you. When I finished he just kind of shook his head."

"'That's what I thought...but I had to hear it from you, Nick. You see...I know how you feel; I'm also inside for a crime I didn't commit, or lessay a crime I didn't know I was committing.' And then he told me his story."

"D had been a scout sniper with the military, a crack shot with not only a rifle but a side-arm; he'd won the inter-service shooting championship twice and had all kinds of decorations. After mustering out, he'd tried to find work in the private sector, but the opportunities had been few and far between. He'd even applied to the ZPD Academy. No dice, even with his service record and his shooting skills, they'd practically laughed him right out of the precinct lobby. 'Uh-huh, like they'd ever accept a FOX on the force,' I said. (Heh-heh, how's that for irony, Carrots?) Anyway, D finally got a job with an outfit in the middle-east, riding shotgun on a shipment of antiquities on its way to Russia. It was a one-shot deal, but it paid well. They were ten miles from the border crossing when they got jumped by a gang of hijackers. D and the others put up a good fight, but they were both outnumbered and outgunned; the ambushers even had an attack helicopter. When D and his guys had finally surrendered, they'd expected to be executed on the spot. "

"'...and that was when I found out that load of antiquities we were hauling was stolen—and that the 'hijackers' were actually Interpawl agents...and I'd managed to take out three of them in the firefight. All three survived, but you know what happens to a felon who shoots a cop, right? The prosecutor destroyed any claim that I hadn't known who I was working for with his opening remarks, "Mammals of the jury, let me tell you what you can expect from this fox." The jury bought it, lock, stock, and barrel, and the judge gave me 25-to-life. I'm still trying to get it overturned, but honestly, I don't think that's any kind of a possibility at this point.'"

"Ahhh, no, that wasn't as big a surprise as you might think, Carrots; I had always suspected there was at least one other wrongfully convicted fox in Lemmingworth, I just never expected it to be D; he was one seriously hard-tailed animal. Still, what he said made me feel a lot better; I wasn't alone in my situation after all."

"After that, things pretty much settled into a routine with only few minor incidents to break the monotony. Jimmy Lee Marion had his parole denied and to celebrate, he got into a fight with two members of the feline crew. D had to sit down with their chief and agree to mule in some catnip in order to smooth things over. He didn't like it, but it was that or a gang war. A week after that, we had a riot over in A Block, the large-mammal prey-species wing. Nothing to do with us smaller preds in D Block, but the warden locked down the entire prison. And then he got on the PA and told us that if anyone else felt like joining the rioters, 'you can start packing your stuff for Marlion right now!' By that he meant Marlion Correctional Facility, the end of the line, the most feared prison in the system back in those days. Lemmingworth was tougher, but that was only because at Marlion the prisoners were kept in solitary 24/7...with only a half hour in an exercise yard each day—by themselves. That kind of set-up didn't make for too many fights."

"One other thing that happened to me in Lemmingworth—a lot—was that I was constantly being approached by guys who wanted me to throw in with them on a hustle when I got out. I swear, in one week I was made more business offers than I'd gotten in the entire year before I decided to open Wild Times. As IF...that was the one good thing about that twenty-five year sentence Carrots, it was all I had to say to get them to back off...get them...to..."

"No, I-I'm okay. It's just that...that plays an important part in the story later on, a-and not a good one."

"No...I need to keep going. A couple of weeks after the riot was settled, my mother came to see me. It wasn't quite as painful as Robyn's visit but it was a lot more awkward. Since mom was a blood relative, she was allowed to see me with no glass between us. As you can probably imagine, she made a big fuss over me, asked all the usual 'mom' questions, was I brushing my teeth, was I keeping my 'room' picked up, was I making any friends? I had to explain to her that this wasn't college, I was in jail. Big mistake, now she started crying her eyes out. When I finally got her to calm down, she looked at me and said, 'When you get out again Nicholas, you'll still be young enough to have children, right?' I told her that....Agggggh, grrrrr, darn it, I promised myself wasn't going to bring that up; me and my big, fat fox-trap!"

"Ahhh well, then you might as well know, Carrots....my mom's had a bee in her hat about grandkids ever since I turned eighteen, comes from my being an only cub. Every time—and I mean every time I try to talk to talk to her, it's grandchildren this, grandchildren that, grandchildren the other."

"Oh, no? When I brought Robyn home to meet her, the first thing out of my mother's mouth was, "'So are you and Nicholas planning to have any children, dear?' And this was before I proposed to her—I mean, even before the FIRST time. Still think it couldn't be that bad, Fluff?"

"Don't get me wrong, I love my mom, but when she gets on that grandchildren kick...Rawwwrf!"

"Mmmm, yeah, get back to the story, good idea. About week after my mother's visit, I was on my way back from the loading dock detail when Chuy Arroyo buttonholed me. 'Meeting in the can, (meaning the washroom,) D wants everybody there.'"

"'What's it about, Chuy?' I asked him.

"'Don' know," he said, and for the first time since we'd met, I had the distinct impression he was lying to me. He was, but only because D wanted everybody to hear the news from him. When I got to the washroom, it was already packed, the first time I'd ever seen everyone in our crew gathered together like that. 'What the heck is going on?' I wondered, 'are we in trouble with another crew, with the guards, has one of our guys been caught snitching?' (The ultimate offense in the slam,) I was nervous as heck, but I still needed to find out."

"It turned out to be none of those things; it was something strictly fursonal on D's part...but at the same time, it was something that was going to affect every fox in D Block."

"'I just got the word from Jimmy G with the weasel crew,' he told us. 'THAT guy is being transferred back to the Greenhouse from Marlion, he's supposed to be here a week from Friday...which mean probably not for a month, but he's still coming. And yes, they're putting him in our block. And yes, the weasels are sure."

"When D made that announcement, half the crew gasped and the rest of us just looked at each other. 'That guy'...who the heck was 'that guy'?

"D wasted no time in filling us in; 'that guy' was a wolverine that he'd known in the service; there'd been some bad blood between them—very bad. He never gave us the details, but he and that wolverine had crossed paths in Lemmingworth once before, and the upshot was the incident that had gotten 'that guy' transferred to Marlion in the first place."

"When the wolverine was first arrived at Lemmingworth, D was working in the hospital infirmary's research center...'"

"Research center? Oh, it's something you see in Zootopia's prisons even to this day, Carrots. It's called the Beta Program, where prisoners can get time shaved off their sentences if they're willing to volunteer as test subjects for new drugs."

"Darn right, Carrots; D warned every single one of us in the fox crew never to go near that gig. He'd seen the results up close and fursonal. Not that there were all that many preds in the Beta Program anyway. Most of the animals who volunteered came from E Block, where the rodents were housed. It seemed to be especially popular with rats and Guinea Pigs, don't ask me why."

"'Well, who else were they supposed to use for test subjects...bugs? That's not from me, Carrots; that's what the animals running the program used to say, whenever someone complained. Look, can we save this argument for some other time, please?"

"Thank you. When they'd first met in Lemmingworth, the wolverine had told D, 'Not so dangerous without a weapon are you, shrimp? I could just off you right now, but that would be too easy. Nooo, I'm going to make you suffer for a while first; I want to hear you beg me to get it over with.'"

"Fort the next couple of weeks, that wolverine was as good as his word. He made D's life a living Nightmare-before-Christmas; he trashed out his cell, destroyed all his care packages, and sent his best friend to the ICU, just to get to him. And he never missed a chance to smack D around a little."

"D never even tried to fight back, he was so shaken he had his daughter send him a good luck charm, a four leaf clover preserved in plastic. He started carrying it around with him wherever he went, stopping to rub it whenever no one was looking. Most of the guys in the fox crew thought it was a 'bug act'; that he was angling to a transfer to the psych block, where the wolverine couldn't get to him."

"'Actually, that WAS what I was doing,' D said, when he gave us the story, 'No way did I did plan on what happened next. Heh, maybe that charm really DID bring me some luck...but if there's one thing my training on the outside has taught me, it's that when an enemy gives you an opening, don't think, MOVE!'"

"The opportunity came on the loading dock of all places. D had just come down from the research center with a shipment of bio-samples, when he smelled wolverine behind him. Thinking fast, he flipped the lid on the can he was loading and dropped his good luck charm inside. Too late the wolverine grabbed him and threw him out of the way."

"'Tough luck Swifty, I saw that.'"

"D fell to his knees and gave 'that guy' his wish, begging with clasped paws."

"'No, please...don't take my keepsake. Please, m-my little girl gave that to me, it's all I have from her."

"The wolverine only showed his fangs, and then he opened the lid of the can and reached inside for the charm."

"And then he screamed and tried to pull it out again. The specimens that D had been loading had been packed in liquid nitrogen. The wolverine pulled even harder but was no use, he was stuck fast. Seeing his chance, D grabbed a tie-down strap from the truck he'd been loading and jumped on the wolverine's back, pulling it tight around his throat. That was also when he dropped the scared-little-swift-fox act. 'Guess what sweetheart, you've been hustled; I don't even HAVE a daughter!'"

"Carrots I don't know what might have happened if a couple of guards hadn't come running and pulled D off that wolverine. What did happen was that the big guy thought they were other prisoners—that's what he said at his hearing—and so, with his paws still stuck in the specimen container, he swung his arm at the animal closest to him and sent him flying off the loading dock."

"The guard wasn't seriously hurt; he was a moose and only suffered some bruises and a broken antler...but the damage was done. If you put your paws on an officer in Lemmingworth, say good-bye, you're headed for Marlion as soon as you get out of solitary. D didn't get off unscathed either, they threw him the hole for 60 days, but he didn't get a transfer and when he came out, the wolverine was gone. I later found out that it was thanks to that incident he eventually became leader of the fox crew."

"What? No, the wolverine didn't lose that paw Carrots, but D had still left him with a souvenir of their encounter. All the fur on that frozen paw fell out, and when it finally grew in again, it came back dirty white. From that day onward, that's what everyone called him, Whitepaw...and now he was on his way back to Lemmingworth."

"'When he gets here, it won't just be me,' D told us, 'It'll be me and anyone else who gets in between us...so I'm laying down the order, stay out of it; this is between Whitepaw and me. I don't want anyone else in this crew getting hurt on my account."

"That brought a BIG storm of protest, Carrots... No way, Jose! All for one, and one for all! We're not leaving you to face this animal alone, D! I think it was Greasy Shual who summed it up best. 'If you wanna commit suicide shmendrik, at least have the courtesy to leave a note; there's no way you'll get an opening against a kelev like that guy more than once.'"

"The argument that followed was so loud the guards had to come in and break it up...but that gave me an idea. After evening chow, I paid a visit to D in his cell. 'I think I know how you can get out of this without involving anyone else in the crew,' I said, 'but I warn you, there'll be a price to pay.'"

"'Go ahead," D told me, and I explained what I had in mind. When I finished, Chuy Arroyo, who was also there, was looking at me as if I'd just taken a fall off a turnip truck. 'You outta your MIND, pendejo?' he said, but D quickly overruled him, 'No Chuy, bad as that sounds, it's still better than having Whitepaw all over my tail; if you'd ever met him, you'd know why I say that, believe me. Nick,' he looked at me, 'Nick, I'm not going to go with your idea just yet, but if no one can come up with anything better, it's on...and thanks."

"The next week was like that old movie where the sheriff is waiting for the outlaws to show up on the 12 o'clock train. Everyone in the fox crew was on edge, as if Whitepaw might come strolling into D block at any second. It was during this time that I learned he wasn't just your average, garden-variety wolverine; back in the day, he'd been the leader of a covert, black-ops team, definitely out of my league."

"And then there came another day I'll never forget. It was Thursday afternoon, just after three o'clock, exactly four months and a week since I'd started my sentence, I remember every detail. I had just finished seeing off a shipment of license plates when the guard we called The Sphinx came up down to the loading dock. (We call him that because he was a cheetah who never changed his facial expression.) 'Warden wants you in his office right away, Wilde.'"

"The Warden? Oooo, that was not good news Carrots. There were only two times in Lemmingworth when a prisoner was called to the warden's office, when he first arrived—if he was a known troublemaker—or if he committed some major disciplinary infraction. I wondered for a moment what I could have done. And then I remembered... my suggestion to D, but no, that didn't make any sense. If simply coming up with an idea was grounds for a summons to the warden's office, the place would be packed 24/7. I finally decided the heck with it and followed The Sphinx to Administration."

When I was ushered into the Warden's office, my first impression was one of neatness, not a speck of dust anywhere and nothing out of place...not that there was much to put out of place anyway. Except for a desk, a bookcase, two chairs, and a small divan, there were no other furnishings in the room; Warden Kaffar could have made do with an office a third the size of the one he had."

"He was an African Forest Buffalo, the smaller cousin of Chief Bogo's species. The prisoners called him Warden Joe Furday, because they thought he sounded like the character in the old Dragnet TV series."

""Who was Joe...? Never mind Carrots, it's not important. He made me wait while read through some documents, and then beckoned me over with a pair of crooked fingers."

"'Mr. Wilde, stand here please.'"

"I went over and stood in front of his desk, while he put on a pair of bifocals and began studying one of the papers he'd been reading."

"Finally, he looked at me over the rim of his glasses."

'"Well, Mr. Wilde, it seems we're not going to have the pleasure of your company for very much longer.'"

"I just stared at him for a second. 'I-I'm being transferred?' I said, and Warden Joe Furday shook his head as if I'd just gotten a test question wrong.'"

"'No Mr. Wilde, you're being released, you'll be discharged effective the day after tomorrow, once we finish processing the paperwork."

"'Wha-sir?' Now I was staring, goggle-eyed. Had he really just told me...?"

"'I believe you heard me correctly, Mr. Wilde.' He said, putting down the paper he'd been reading and picking up another one, holding it out at arm's length. 'Three days ago, the Zootopia Police Department apprehended the animals who burned down your amusement. At 07:25 yesterday, these perpetrators signed a full confession, supplying details known only the ZPD up until that time. They also signed a statement fully exonerating you of any involvement in the crime, or in any of the associated crimes. At 9:30 AM this morning Judge Zachary Plainview, Associate Justice of the Supreme Court of Zootopia, signed an order overturning all convictions lodged against both you and your partner. In 48 hours, you'll be free to go.'"

"Whoa, you should have heard him Carrots, he sounded like a kid who'd just caught a trophy fish and then been told he'd have to let it go."

"But who the heck cared? I would have fox-screamed if I hadn't been in prison. Oh what the heck, I was a free fox, I DID fox scream...so loud that I almost cracked the window. That had The Sphinx making a fast draw for his baton, but he barely time to get his paw on it before I turned the tables on him."

"'Noooo, I don't think so,' I said, folding my arms and shaking my head, "I'm not a convicted felon anymore and you can't touch me, not unless you want to find out what it's like to be sitting the defendant's table.' To be perfectly honest Carrots, I didn't know if that threat carried any weight, but who wouldn't be feeling cocky at a moment like that? Didn't matter, The Sphinx wasn't about to find out either. He took his paw away from the baton and just stood there. Ohhh, I only wished it could have been Chops Diller, I would have paid him back in spades for all those the things he'd said about me and Robyn."

"But wait...Robyn? I forgot about Sphinx and turned my attention back to the warden."

"'I want to call my mother and my girlfriend, right now."

"Yes, of course," he said, motioning of The Sphinx to take me to the telephones. I think he was just looking for an excuse to get rid of me. But I wasn't done yet; on the way out the door, I fired off a parting shot, "And no listening in this time, and no time limit!"

"All right!" he shouted waving for Sphinx to hurry up and get out of there before I thought of something else."

"When I called my mother's house, she's wasn't there and I had to leave a message. I could only hope she'd get it, mom didn't have voice mail; she was still using one of those old fashioned cassette-recorder phone machines. Robyn picked up right away though, and when I told her the news, her fox scream was so loud and long, she nearly blew out the phone receiver (and my eardrum—I didn't care, it was worth it.) And then she started crying and I started crying along with her. Now I knew that the two of us not getting married had been the right decision. When I told her I wouldn't actually be released for another 48 hours, I expected her to be all bummed out about it, but she was actually kind of happy about it; it would give her time to get to Lemmingworth to meet me. "When you walk out of prison, a free fox, Red I want to be there, waiting for you.' Before we hung up, I asked her to pass the word about my upcoming release to 'our friend at the club,' meaning Louie Carpenti the manager at the Thaw. I knew that as soon as he got the word, he'd pass it straight up to Mr. Big. Most likely, that wasn't necessary, The Big Shrew probably knew already that I was getting out, but it was only good common courtesy to clue him in, especially after the way he'd looked out for Finnick and me."

"Yes, you're right Carrots, I did wonder if he'd had anything to do with my release. He hadn't; but I wasn't in any hurry to find out. I was going home, that was the important thing."

"Heh, if you think the word spreads quickly in a police precinct Judy, you should visit a prison sometime. When I got back to D block, every animal who wasn't a guard stood up and started cheering; not just the foxes—everybody!"

"'Awooooo!'"

"'Yeahhhh, baby!'"

"'You rule, fox!'"

"'MROWWWWRRR, you getting out, boy!'"

"'Way to go, Nick!'"

"'Right on, brother. Right...ON!"

"All the way back to my cell, guys were slapping me on the back and giving me high fives. That's one of the few things in prison that'll make everyone in the cell-block forget their differences, Carrots, when someone's getting out because he really didn't do it. I still had 48 hours to go before I actually walked free though, and I knew they were going to feel like the longest two days of my life."

"When the big day came, it was not without its dramatic moments, there were hugs good-bye from D, Chuy, and Jimmy Lee; even Greasy got teary eyed on me. Exiting my cell for the very last time, I saw all the guys in the fox crew lined up in two flanking rows like an honor guard. I also saw something that wasn't so touching. One of the guards detailed to escort me to the front exit was none other than Chops Diller. Wel-l-lll, that might not have been touching, but it wasn't unwanted; as a matter of fact, although they couldn't possibly have known, that was the nicest going-away present the administration could have given me."

"'All right Wilde, let's go,' he told me, tapping his foot impatiently.

"There was a lot I could have said to that sheep, Carrots. I could have thrown back his taunts about Robyn and me, I could have told him that I was on my way to Zootopia while he was still stuck in Lemmingworth. (It was anything but a plum assignment, if you were a guard) Or I could have simply reminded him that as a free fox, I was no longer subject to the prison rules, and then told him exactly what I thought of him."

"I did none of those things; by now I knew his weak spot...and besides I had one more part to play. I looked at D and gave him almost imperceptible nod. He nodded back, just ever so slightly and I turned my attention back to Diller.

"Why the rush Chops, late for a Goth convention or something?"

"Everyone gasped, and some of them groaned; one of the coyotes even howled. Diller was known to be particularly sensitive about the color of his wool—he was literally the black sheep of his family—and NONE of the prisoners were allowed to call him by his nickname."

"However, I wasn't a prisoner any more...as I proceeded to remind Diller in full, graphic detail."

"Go on, Eight-Ball, smack me with that club, douse me that pepper spray, use your horns on me—and watch what happens. My conviction wasn't overturned on a technicality; I'm out of here because I've been proven innocent...and beyond any reasonable doubt! As long as I don't touch you first, you can't lay a finger on me...and there's not a guy watching here who wouldn't just LOVE to testify against you if you that happens. Go on Charcoal, hit me; you'll be fired if you're lucky..."

"'All right, Wilde, you had your fun.'"

"The other guard got quickly between us. Nice try, but he was a sloth bear; I could easily dodge around him. When I did, I saw that Diller was already teetering on the edge. One more little push was all he needed...and putting my paws on my hips I gave it to him."

"Such a fine, upstanding correctional officer...pure as the driven soot..."

"'BAAAAAAAA!'"

"That did it; Diller grabbed for his bat and came at me, but before he could raise it even more than halfway, D bolted from the crowd and grabbed his arm."

"'No, don't!'"

"'Put it away, Diller." The other guard had gotten between us again, "Wilde's right, if you hurt him, you're history.'"

"For about half a second, I thought Diller was going to head-butt the other guard; but then he looked at me, and I saw a very creepy smile come over his face."

"'That's right Wilde, I can't do anything to you. But your little friend here just touched my wool," he was nodding at D, "and you know what THAT means." I did, but he told me anyway. 'How's it feel, knowing you just got him sent to Marlion, DUMB fox?'"

"I moaned and pretended to slap myself...but I actually felt pretty good. Chops Diller may have thought he'd had the last laugh, but he'd actually just been hustled."

"Yes, Carrots, that was the general idea; in Marlion, D would be safe from Whitepaw. Even if that wolverine somehow got sent back there himself, it wouldn't do any good. The prisoners in that lockup were kept constantly segregated from each other."

"And D wouldn't be held there forever, either. He had touched Diller's wool yes, but he hadn't been trying to hurt him, only restrain him. He'd do a year in Marlion, two at most and then he'd be sent elsewhere. It was only a reprieve, but it was better than nothing...and a lot can happen in a year or two."

"Chuy and Greasy were mad as heck at me for getting D sent to Marlion...but they were only pretending for the guards' benefit. They knew the score, every fox in the crew knew the score, but none of them would ever spill; that's the kind of solidarity we had there at that time. I was almost going to miss it."

"But only almost; at the far end of the cell-block, the doorway leading to the Administration Building was waiting, and beyond that...freedom!"