Gettin’ Gushy With It

Gettin’ Gushy With It

I think I finally hit the big time. Sure, I’ve gotten plenty of attention over the past few years—I became a movie star, got myself a massive fan base, and won a major award. But when the son of an A-list celeb taps you to be in his new show, it’s kinda a big deal.

But, hey, I’m still the same Nick Wilde; I just hustle on the right side of the law now. So I was pumped when Max Goof asked if I’d be a part of his gig. I’ve been jonesing for a starring role in something, so I couldn’t turn him down. It turns out his concert is more like a rager than astraight-up show, but that’s fine by me. This might sound crazy, but I feel like I was meant to be a lead and was just in the right place at the wrong time. But I did fall for my leading doe, so...I’m not complaining. Speaking of, I wasn’t sure how Carrots would take to the format at first, but she’s been a great sport. She has yet to read anyone the riot act...In fact, she’s having as much fun as I am!

I told Max to sign me up. I didn’t want to sound like a stuck-up star or anything, but I did make one small request: No singing. Not a solo, anyway. ‘Cause I know Mickey is big into peppy little ditties that everyone sings together. That idea has grown on me—though remind me never to invite Chief Buffalo Butt out here. And nobody tell Finnick.

“Hey there, Slick! I thought those sunglasses were too big for you, but it looks like I was wrong—they fit just right!” Here comes Carrots. We’re backstage, and she won’t quit making fun of the new shades I had specially made for the show. Mickey gave each of us a budget for costumes, plus I needed a new pair anyway. But does that stop Carrots from giving me the third degree? No. No, it does not.

I slip on my snazzy shades and smirk at my sly bunny. “You should talk, Fluff. I know you added sequins to your uniform. Let’s see how Bogo likes that, huh?” She doesn’t say anything at first, but blushes at the same time as her ears droop just a smidge. Then she catches herself.

“I have others,” she retorts.

“Aha.” She caved! “Now, if you’ll excuse me, this sly fox with super-cool shades has a show to get ready for. I suggest you do the same—you have more to do than just standing there looking pretty.” For a split second, I see Carrots’ eyes light up in something like satisfaction before she turns tail and storms off. I try not to stare at her perfect little bunny butt, though it’s a losing battle.

“No! Dad!” Max is onstage checking on the effects, and it sounds like Daddy Dearest has ‘goofed’ up the works again. I try to relax, tune out the father/son snafu and the sudden drama with Judy. Next thing I know, I’m singing “Hakuna Matata” to myself—softly, saving my voice for the show—because I hear it means “no worries”, which I could use right about now.

Max dashes backstage looking angsty. (But aren’t all teenagers?) “Great. Just great.” He spots me and loosens up a little. Sighing, he says, “Nick, I’m glad you’re still here.”

“Where else would I be? The show starts in less than two hours.” (Since when am I conscientious?)

“I think Dad is messing with the lights and stuff again. Can you go talk to him?” Ever since Judy and I joined Mickey and his crew, we’ve become the de facto crisis management. You know—badge, uniform? But unlike Officer Fluff, I don’t care to wear those duds when I’m not on duty. But I still have my stylish shades and my streetwise swagger. I’m just about to swoop in and save the day when…

“See if you can get Judy to come with you. He likes her.” It figures...everybody loves Carrots. So do I, even if she’s miffed at me.

The backstage isn’t that big, so it doesn’t take me long to find her. I give her the 411. “Fine,” she huffs. We head to the control room; I rap on the door.

“Hey, Goofy, it’s me, Nick. I brought Judy!” I add, hoping to entice him. But if she’s the ‘good cop’ in all this, that makes me the ‘bad cop’…Can’t a guy catch a break?! Crimini.

We hear some shuffling from inside, then a startled yelp. “Choota!” O-kay...not Goofy.

“Whoa, Stitch! Take it easy, buddy! We just want to talk, okay?”

“Naga!”

“Looks like he isn’t buying it,” I said to Carrots.

“Let me try. C’mon, Stitch, please? Only for a minute.”

“Okie-taka, Judy.” Just like that, Carrots wins again. I mean, how…?!

The door opens, and we’re in. “I love what you’ve done with the place.” It’s a mess; obviously he tampered with something, though I have no clue what—not that I would say so. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

“Present for Boojiboo.” For the first time all afternoon, I see Carrots smile.

“You want to put on a light show for Angel?”

“Emba-chua!” Stitch gives her a double thumbs-up.

“I have an idea,” I tell them. I caught Stitch eyeing my shades, so I think I might be able to strike a deal with him. “Carrots, you go talk to Max. I’ll stay here and teach Stitch a thing or two about love.” Carrots laughed.

“Suit yourself, dumb fox.” The way she said it gave me a rush that rocketed from my ears all the way to my hind paws, so I know she’d forgiven me. But did she already have doubts about my skills in the romance department?! We’d only been married a few months, so I knew I had to up my game.

Carrots left to do damage control while I plopped down in a wheelie chair to figure out my next move. “So, Stitch...”

“Ih?” Becoming an international fox of fame and fortune meant that I now understood quite a few languages, including that of my little intergalactic friend. “You want to do something special for Angel, huh?” He nodded.

“Meega tay Boojiboo.” He really loved her. Wow. A certain tod may have teared up a tad behind his macho shades, but I’m not naming names.

“Well...Do you plan do get married someday?”

“Akare asaid.” ‘It looks scary,’ he says…! I laugh; I can’t help it.

“Touche,” I say (because when in France…). “But only if you haven’t done it. Once you do, then it’s...” I had to find the right word so that Stitch knew I was on the level. “Cowabunga!” That got a smile out of him. “For now, you might want to start small. If I want to do something for Carrots—which I do all the time—I get her something from the bakery.”

“Morcheeba. Kurdaic?”

“Thanks. Yeah, I get her cake—a little one—or a cookie.”

“Gatchi nosty?”

“Well, it works for us, but you and your cousins like to think big, don’t you?”

“Emba-chua!”

“I respect that. ‘Try everything’, you know? Tell you what—I’ll help you with your light show. But you have to let me add a little Wilde touch.” He hesitated, reaching for my shades.

“Miki miki.”

“...And if you do...I’ll let you wear my shades in the next show.”

“Feeboogoo!”

“Do we have a deal?” I held out my paw...and he shook it.

“Chi chabada. Takka, achi-baba. Soka.” A promise, apologies, appreciation...It felt nice to be trusted by a fellow trickster. Carrots was right when she said that tricksters need to stick together.

Stitch must be a quick study, because when we get to work, he already knows how to get the lights to do what he wants. He shows me the ropes while proving himself a capable teacher (“Hagata no feebee!” Powerful stuff.) Between the two of us, we’re close to finishing in no time. It’s all smooth sailing...until someone knocks. “Crabba snabba!” ‘Uh oh’ is right.

“Stitch? Nick?” Are you guys in there?” It’s Goofy. I exchange glances with Stitch.

“Are we good here? Should we let him in?”

“Okie-taka.” I slide over and open the door.

“Gawrsh, there you are! Whatcha doin’ in here when it’s almost showtime?”

“We put together a little something for our gals. Right, Stitch?” He nodded.

“Try muquad!” I would have given myself a pat on the back for being such a good influence, but we had to hustle if we wanted the gals to see their surprise before the show.

“Is there somethin’ I can do to help? Usually Maxie doesn’t let me touch all this, but...”

“Today is your lucky day, big guy.”

Soon, Stitch was booking it to the main stage, with me right behind him. I called for Carrots. “Judy!” Stitch called for his

“Angel!” and both came running.

“What have you been up to, Slick?” quoth the rabbit, paws on hips.

“Ohufi, Boojiboo!” I was a little jealous that Stitch got a hero’s welcome while I got an inquisition, but hopefully the latter wouldn’t last long...I was counting on it. Stitch pointed to the screen.

“Hagata!”

The screen lit up, and there they were—Judy on one side, Angel on the other, with hearts floating over them like bubbles. “Eegalagoo! Bootifa!” High praise, indeed...and, Stitch got a hug from his sweetheart, sure signs that our art was Angel-approved.

Carrots grabbed me by my tie. This could go either way, but with today’s track record, it was not looking good. “You guys did that?” She sounded impressed...Low-key impressed, but it was something. She let go of my tie and took off my shades.

“Hey!” Both Stitch and Angel looked at me; I sighed and turned over my prized possession. A deal’s a deal.

“Listen, Carrots—I didn’t mean to push you away. I just got a little excited, is all. I mean, we’re actually in a show now! Not just ‘Second Bananas On Ice!’ Look at all this!” Holding her close with one arm, I swept my free paw around the stage, stopping at her picture. “But I wouldn’t want to do it without you.”

“Aw, Nick...You don’t have to.” My bunny is beaming, her eyes shining, and all I can think is that there’s no way that projection did her justice.

“Why’d you take off my shades?” I asked her.

“I—like looking into your eyes.” The shyness in her voice was sweet and sexy all at once.

“I know the feeling,” I said. We stayed like that for a solid minute, but then I just had to kiss her.