Words

One: Species

It was early morning in Zootopia, far too early for anyone not nocturnal to be up. Nick Wilde was walking down the street, a cup of Snarlbucks in each paw, luxuriating in the morning hours. Still, he stifled a yawn—ever since he and Judy Hopps had started hanging out together, he'd been more than a little thrown off by her sleep schedule. She was no slouch, but this was her day off, and she wouldn't dream of missing a chance to sleep in.

So there was Nick, minding his own business, meandering his way back to Judy's sorry excuse for an apartment...when something bright and bouncy blew right past him, almost toppling the two cups of brew. What the…?!

“Wheeeeeeeee!” This sidewalk racer was as loud as it was fast. Some kit, he guessed, got loose from mom. She'd catch up soon, he reasoned, but he'd better go ahead and distract the little speed demon before this went too far. 'Time to get your tail in gear,' he told himself.

Racing ahead, the little rogue in his sights, he taunted, “I bet I can go faster than you!” This caught the youngster's attention, and they both came to a sudden halt.

“I doubt that, mister...I'm aerodynamic!” Huh? This was one smart cookie. In fact…

'Cookie' might be the easiest way to describe her, because her appearance defied explanation. She had short, stocky limbs, wide, curious eyes—they reminded him somewhat of Judy's, right down to the color—plus a little pink nose that was most likely feline, with a mouth to match. But that was where the symmetry ended.

She was pink all over—except for her pawpads, which were purple. That much he knew. But her distinguishing feature was no doubt her ears: large, almost triangular in shape, and complete with...pockets? Either all that daydreaming about Judy had messed with his head, or this would prove to be an interesting morning.

“Are you lost, sweetheart?” He spoke gently to the apparent newcomer; although she was certainly sassy, she was still a sprout. She shook her head in earnest, ears flopping every which way.

“No, sir! Me and my sister are new here, and we were just having a look around. I'm old enough to be out by myself, you know.” She added the latter hastily.

“Is that so? How old are you, sweetheart?” Nick asked. She turned up her nose at him.

“A lady never reveals her age!” She tried to sound offended, but giggled instead; Nick found himself smiling.

“Alright, you win. How about this one: what's your name?” This time, she didn't hesitate.

“Molly!” she answered with a smile. “And this is my little sister Megan...Psst, Megan!” A green 'cookie', with the same general features as her sister—except 1/8th her size--peered out of a pocket behind Molly's left ear.

“Hi there, mister...” came a sleepy greeting.

“Nick.” he told them. “I'm a police officer.” What luck that he remembered to stick his badge in his wallet today! He pulled it out for Molly to inspect; she was definitely dazzled.

“Ooh…!” he laughed.

“It's nice to meet you guys.”

“You, too, Officer Nick,” Molly said...but Megan had already gone back to sleep.

“Sorry,” Molly giggled, “but Nutmeg over there is tired. We've been exploring the city all day!” That gave Nick an idea.

“Do you guys know where the Grand Pangolin Arms is?” Molly beamed.

“Yeah! That's right across from our place!”

“My best friend lives there. You can come hang out with us for awhile.” Molly's eyes seemed to get impossibly wider.

“Did you hear that, Megan? Whaddaya think? Meg?!” And then… “Silly me, she's asleep! Wake up, Nutmeg!”

“Huh?”

“Wanna go hang out with Officer Nick and his friend?”

“Mhmm.” She slipped back into her pouch, snoring softly. Molly laughed...and so did Nick.

“So,” Molly asked, flapping her ears excitedly, “Hop on?”

“What's that?...Wait, you want me to...You fly?”

“Sure do!” She grinned impishly. “Are you afraid of heights, Officer Nick?”

“Nah!” That was true. But was he about to let a 'cookie' of indeterminate age fly him across town? No. No he was not. “I'll meet you guys there, okay?”

“You got it!” Awestruck, Nick watched her take off into the big blue sky.

On his way to GPA, he had time to call Carrots and give her the rundown. She answered on the first ring. “About time, Slick! Did you have to pick the coffee beans yourself?!” she teased.

“Hello to you, too. I have good news and bad news.” Without waiting for a reply, he forged ahead. “The bad news is, the coffee's probably cold now.” He took a sip from his cup and grimaced. “Yep. But the good news is, I met a coupla kits you're gonna love. I'm bringing 'em over for a visit.”

“Kits?” Judy's voice sounded strained. “Are they orphans?”

“I don't think so. They said they just moved here; I thought maybe you could look them up in the system.”

“I'm on it. What are their names?”

“Molly and Megan. That's all they'll give me. But—get this--they have noses like cats, ears like elephants, and...You'd never believe the rest.” Her curiosity piqued, Judy made quick work of logging into her ZPD account and plugging in the info Nick had given her. Not surprisingly, they weren't hard to find. “Any luck?”

“I don't see any family listed. Ages, either. Not much at all, really. But that could be just because they're new here.” Judy sounded more confident than she felt; Nick knew this and picked up his pace, anxious to get back and comfort her.

“Whatever the case, Carrots, we'll make sure they know they're welcome. You know as well as I do, we have a whole passel of pals who'd be willing to do the same.” He was relieved to hear the smile in her voice as she said,

“Yeah. Let's do this.”

Judy soon found out that the pictures in the police database didn't do Molly and Megan justice; they were as adorable as could be. Molly's ears—and Megan's, too—were more like a bat's, Judy thought. Sure enough, each had a cat-like nose, and Molly had a tail, while Megan didn't. That was strange—so, too, was the fact that Megan lacked those puzzling pouches. By those alone, she would have pegged the two for marsupials, not mammals, and yet she knew that the former hailed from Outback Island...and these two held no trace of an accent in their tinkling voices.

Molly was endearingly precocious, while Megan, the more timid of the two, was a spitfire when she wanted to be. Like today, when she'd rather catch up on sleep. Molly, though, was much more forthcoming...Mostly.

Judy had set out some fruit for everyone to enjoy as they all sat around on her softest throw rug. The whole thing was so casual that one could easily mistake the new friends for old ones, nor was it surprising to hear Nick say, “So, what have you precious pair of catabataroolaphants been up to today?” Everyone laughed—just as Nick hoped they would. But then Molly smiled coyly—even going so far as to bat her eyelashes at him—and said sweetly,

“You don't know what species we are, do you, Officer Nick?” When he only shook his head and smiled back, her own grin widened as she playfully pronounced, “That's for us to know and you to find out.”

“Be nice,” mumbled Megan from inside the pouch.

“I am,” Molly assured her, “You just didn't let me finish.”

“'Kay,” said her sister, nodding off again.

“We came to Zootopia because, here, anyone can be anything,” Molly continued cheerfully. “And that means it doesn't matter what species you are.” She was clearly very proud of her knowledge. Nick, however, felt nothing but shame; he looked over at Judy and could tell that she felt the same. They, of all mammals, knew better; it wasn't so long ago that they, too, had been mired in the mucky parts of the city, the parts that wanted to pigeonhole you based on species alone. (No offense to pigeons, of course.) Still, they had let their curiosity get the better of them. Fox and rabbit exchanged furtive glances, wondering how to make it up to their new friends.

But, yet again, Molly proved to have an answer to everything...whether she knew it or not. “We watch Mayor Horse on T.V. all the time...That's where I learned all that stuff. It would be so cool if we could actually meet him!” Her words, filled with the gleeful abandon of kithood, spilled out on a sigh. Nick and Judy exchanged jubilant glances over her head—though Judy thought she caught Nick mid-facetious facepaw. They relished the chance to make Molly's daydream a reality; like the leader she looked up to, she was certainly in a league of her own.

Two: Integrity

'Integrity' is not a high-ranking word in Nick Wilde's vocabulary. The last time he saw it—and, probably, thought about it on a daily basis—was when he studied the Junior Ranger Scout Pawbook as a kit, intent on preparing himself for initiation. That went well.

The term had, however, steadily crept up on his radar within the last several years. The word itself wasn't one he'd missed, per se, but he quickly realized that reacquainting himself with it was like going through a box of ornaments for one's Crittermess tree...You don't give the collection much consideration most of the time, yet when the right time rolls around, you find yourself rifling through the boxes, carefully handling each one, admiring it, and saying to yourself, 'yeah, I missed this'. For Nick, such was his relationship with the concept.

Yet its reappearance in his life had nothing to do with Judy, unlike so many other elements of his existence. That's not to say she wasn't moral—of course she is, she's Judy Hopps—but Nick had realized fairly quickly that integrity is best appreciated after one has endured a lack of it. Judy, though--so sweet, so pure, so guileless--often struggled to comprehend anything remotely opposite. Heck, she'd turned him around, hadn't she?

But back to the word itself, which had come around as he was talking to somebunny else. He couldn't recall under what circumstances Sam Lapin had mentioned it to him—after all, she gotten him out of more mental scrapes than he could count--but her phrasing was still crystal clear: “at the end of the day, what matters is that he walks the talk—integrity and all that”. She had spoken casually, but there was no mistaking the twinkle in her eyes.

If it sounded like romantic nonsense, reflected Nick (with a smirk), it probably was...because his perspective on the word had little to do with Sam, either, and everything to do with her husband, Herb. He was the paragon of probity she'd been referring to.

Herb H. Horse was the mayor of Zootopia, a former member of the ZPD, an active participant in the community at large...To save time, Nick most often thought of him as a 'do-gooder'; the guy did it all. It was, then, natural that he considered 'integrity' to be 'Herb's word'. Nick associated the term with his friend as readily as he did 'hustler' with himself, or even--'cute' with Judy (though he knew better than to tell her so).

And there was more, he realized. It wasn't lost on him that the two terms he'd compared were derogatory in most circles. That must be because, for the longest time, he hadn't seen any need for integrity, in himself or others. He'd been so firmly ensconced in the trenches of Zootopian street life that he hadn't seen anything beyond himself.

There were still times when Nick found Herb's efforts excessive (--though you could never convince the tod to elaborate--) but he understood that it was all somehow woven into the Mayor's master plan to, as Judy liked to say, “make the world a better place”. He respected that.

He respected Herb so much, in fact, that he did, in the horse's company, do what he only did with those he cared most about...tease him mercilessly. Granted, Nick's days as a hustler meant that he knew everyone in some capacity; by that token, no doubt every citizen of the city was familiar with Nick's distinct dry wit. But for those the fox favored, he piled it on thick.

Nick grinned deviously. He'd just now thought of a little something he was going to give to Herb every chance he got...He remembered that his dad had been really into westerns; they were never Nick's thing, but if John Wilde was in the room, chances are there was a Western on in the background. As a kit, Nick was puzzled by a particular scene where a bison buckaroo was talking to a fellow rancher—a porcupine, of all mammals!--and called him 'hoss'. He had turned to his dad, baffled, and exclaimed to the effect of 'how could anyone confuse a rodent with an equine?!' (In far more kit-like terms, of course.)

His dad had grinned, guffawed, and explained patiently that 'hoss', while it did mean 'horse' in some dialects, was also just another way to say, 'friend', or to address someone important. (But in less lofty terms that his son could understand.)

Nick snickered to himself. What better use for that expression than to describe someone who was all three, and the epitome of integrity?! Deputy Wilde reckoned he'd best be fixin' to shine up his Western accent.

Three: Loyalty

The idea of revisiting the Junior Ranger Scouts as a volunteer had been gathering dust in the back of Nick’s mind, the same place he’d ditched all his old habits (or, most of them, anyway). But he’d finally decided to give it a try, just to see how it went. He’d already learned everything he needed to know about being brave, helpful and trustworthy from Judy and the ZPD—she deserved most of the credit—but he wanted to show those kits that, even though he wasn’t a fan of the institution, he was on their side.

When all he’d had left of the JRS was those four words and a pawkerchief, he came to realize that, to him, ‘loyalty’ was the most important of the tenets. At first he wasn’t sure why, especially because he had a feeling that, at some point in the distant past, an overly-optimistic mammal—‘maybe a relative of Carrots’,’ he mused, smiling—must’ve included each of them for a reason, right? So, he figured they had to be of equal importance. “At least to that sucker of a scoutmaster,” muttered Nick to himself with a smirk.

Then, when he thought about it—his mind wandering as he skimmed the 2018 brochure— the reason for his preference came to him. He realized how good it felt to know someone had his back. First it was his mom: from the time he was a kit, and to this day. Then Finnick, and Hannah; each had been his business partner at different points in his life, but both had known exactly when, and how, to step in. Then there was Judy, followed closely by Herb and Sam—all experts at lending an ear and making each day one worth looking forward to. Every one of them would stick by his side no matter how tough the going got.

So, yeah, he was ready. He’d stroll right into the JRS Headquarters, looking sharp in his earth-toned uniform, and show them how it was done. Out with the old, in with the new, right? And his troop would be the first to witness JRS Wilde-style, where loyalty was at the top of the list.

He swung open the door, his own morale high even as his expectations for JRS were in the gutter. As he scanned the room with bated breath, what he saw there stopped him in his tracks.

There were girls. All sizes, shapes, and species, laughing and chatting away as they waited for the meeting to start. So JRS was co-ed now, eh? He must’ve missed that in the brochure. A tiny shred of hope fluttered through his chest. Maybe—just maybe--that progressive move could turn this thing around.

Suddenly, he spotted two pairs of elephant-esque ears—one pink, one green. A grin spread across his muzzle. Molly and Megan?! It would be a blast hanging with those two. He was so absorbed in watching them that he didn’t notice another scoutmaster enter the room from the opposite side...and blow a whistle.

Nick jumped, hackles up, ready to curse someone out for startling him. And then he saw who it was. “Troops, may I have your attention please? I’m Mayor Horse. I am so glad to be your guest scoutmaster today! My first order of business will be to introduce you to the newest official scoutmaster. I hope he gets here soon; I’m ready to get started. Practicing good citizenship always revs my engines.” A few Scouts laughed at the latter—especially the girls, obviously—and so did Nick.

“Right here, Chief!” He saluted, strolling forward even as he silently shook with laughter. Herb held his gaze; when Nick was close enough, Herb extended his hoof, Nick shook it, and the horse turned to the assembly and announced,

“I’ll be right back, everyone. I need to have a word with Scoutmaster Nick here.”

The kits and cubs went back to chatting as Herb pulled Nick aside. He said—in semi-seriousness-- “Are you laughing at me, Nicholas?” This was Hoss he was talking to, so Nick had the grace to grin guiltily. Clearing his throat, he answered,

“Ah, I didn’t mean to undermine your authority, Chief.” He spoke somewhat haltingly, as he still couldn’t stop laughing. “But what can I say? You’ve done it again...Made all us macho mammals look bad.” Herb shrugged modestly.

“Apology accepted, Nicholas. As long as you’re not insulted...” Nick waved him off.

“Why would I be? I’m figuring out that fun stuff happens in the middle of Mayor Horse Mania.”

As the two friends returned to greet their charges, Nick looked on, amused, as Herb bent to shake Molly’s paw.

“Y-you’re….M-m-m...”

“Hello to you, too,” Nick muttered under his breath. An equally agog Megan spotted him out of the corner of one large eye, mumbling hastily,

“Hey, Nick.” ‘Dismissed as yesterday’s news,’ Nick thought dryly. As a fresh wave of mirth overcame him, that shred of hope in his heart sparked to life. The future of the JRS was looking brighter by the minute—thanks to, for one, that indelibly loyal steed.

Four: Cynicism

Cynicism masquerades

as wisdom, but

it is the farthest

thing from it.

Stephen Colbert,

comedian

‘Cynicism,’ thought Nick,

‘Just another trick;

I thought I was slick--

But I was trapped.

It’s just another -ism,

A schism

Menacing the peaceful prism

That most of this place is.

It’s pretty,

This city,

But it doesn’t hold a candle to

That can-do bunny who

I wish I knew

Before I fell into

That rut.

Now I fell

In love

With her...my fur

Still stands on end

Whenever her name’s mentioned;

I’m so glad I caught her attention,

Though I don’t know how.

Wow.

I really am a lucky guy.

I don’t need to try

Everything

To know:

I have it good.

FYI,

In Zootopia we call that card

By a different name;

So I hope ya don’t take it hard.

I know

It sounds weird,

But I’m glad my name isn’t Stephen

Coltbeart.’