FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Nick's philosophy was that the best kind of hustle was the one where the mark never even realized that they had been hustled.

Most of his schemes had fallen into this category, usually thanks to splitting them up into smaller parts, sometimes even with different marks. Each part a small transaction that didn't arouse suspicion. White lies, slight omissions of truth, technicalities, the works.

Nick felt reminded of this because right now, as he was naked on his hands and knees, Judy's foot on his forehead keeping his nose an inch away from the moist spot on her panties, he was starting to realize that he was being hustled. And even while he whined and desperately tried to close the distance, his mind was reviewing the chain of small transactions that had led to this situation.

His last week at the Police Academy. That was the most plausible starting point. After overcoming his initial difficulties in the physical aspects - he had always maintained that he was a talker, not a fighter - things had gone swimmingly. Nick knew that he, just like Judy the year before, was at the top of his class. The only obstacle between him and his badge was one missing signature: a recommendation by a ZPD officer (either an instructor from the Academy or an officer from one of the Districts) after a hearing. Nick had always assumed that this would be a mere formality to weed out the latent psychopaths who were technically qualified, but really shouldn't be trusted with any power over other people. But the other cadets were nervous. Some claimed to have heard of interrogations, others of grown men crying. Oddly, there were few hard numbers or details about this, and not even rumors of what happened if one failed to get this signature right away.

They were all in a common room waiting for one of the instructors to take them to the hearing. So far, eight people had been taken away, but none had returned. Nick assumed that they were either dead now or that they had been taken to another room to avoid spoiling the procedure for the others. It worried him a bit that he had thought of the death option first.

"Wilde!" A bear had come to pick him up - Nick had never had a class under him, but he knew him as one of the driving class instructors. "Your turn, come on!" he snapped when Nick raised his hand.

"So," Nick spoke up while the bear was leading him through the halls, "will I be doing this... let's call it test for simplicity's sake... with you?"

"No."

"Any chance of you telling me-"

"No."

Boy, you must be the life of every party, Nick thought, but wisely kept the snark to himself.

They stopped at the end of a hallway, in front of what suspiciously looked like a prison cell door. "Here we are."

"You're kidding, right?" Nick was openly staring at the heavy steel door. He had never been to prison, but after his earliest cons, he had suffered from nightmares of being dragged to a cell just like this. "Why do we even have a-..." He finally saw the little sign that had been meticulously attached to the door. "Room 101?" He blinked as he figured out the reference. "Wasn't that from Nineteen Eighty-Four?" A sense of unease overcame him, and he racked his brain about what it meant.

"Very good!" the bear praised him and placed one giant hand on the fox's back while unlocking the door with the other. "You wouldn't believe how many don't get that reference. Horrible. I mean, you'd expect some classics to be required reading in school, right?"

"Sure." Nick wasn't really listening. Room 101... come on, Nick, what was it? He frowned. _I mean, it's gotta be something bad since it came from a dystopia, but-_The door slid open, revealing a brightly lit room. It was looking a lot like the big, bad brother of an interrogation room: no carpet, no windows, just a table and two minimalist chairs. The furniture was completely made out of metal and had been bolted to the floor.

What was missing were the one-way mirror and cameras, the two things meant to assure suspects that there would be accountability during a hearing.

And on the table was a power drill.

Room 101. His memories of the novel came back far too late. The room where they subject you to your worst nightmare. The room where they break you._Nick wheezed and stumbled backwards, but the hand on his back was like a wall. His peripheral vision fell away as his instincts were frantically seizing control. _This is a torture chamber! His brain was trying to formulate a more rational explanation, but his body was already moving. GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT!_The bear's hand grabbed Nick by the scruff of his neck a moment before he could twist his body out of the way. "NO! YOU CAN'T-" Nick's protest turned into a yelp when the bear tossed him into the room. _Shit! He's too big for you to just wing it! Focus on your training!_He took a deep breath and told his instincts to settle down as he assessed the situation. He had signed up for the Academy's optional Krav Maga and Jujitsu classes on day one, and he was sure that he wouldn't have survived basic training without those lessons on getting physical. It was true that the bear outweighed him badly and that most of that weight was muscle. _Still, a single strike against a weak spot like a joint will buy me the one second I'll need to get through the-

The door slammed shut without the bear's interaction.

FUCK! Nick felt his last resolve melting away as he realized that he was now locked in this room with a bear he'd have to search for a key which he possibly didn't even have - and that, even if he somehow got the door open, there was apparently another person waiting behind it.

"Hands behind your head, Wilde," the bear instructed him and held up a pair of handcuffs. "I've heard that you're good, but trust me - you're not that good."

Oh God... oh God... oh God... Nick went over his options one last time. The room was almost completely featureless, which left only the power drill. Not the worst weapon, especially if it has a battery, he thought, but then the reality of his situation came crashing down on him again. Trapped. Bear. Maybe no way to get out on my own. At least one more person behind the door. Likely armed. Also, murdering or mutilating one of the instructors with a power drill might not improve my odds of getting that recommendation. He took a deep breath and slowly raised his hands. Then he paused as another part of his brain decided to throw its chips into the betting pool. "Actually, could I maybe make you an offer instead?"

The bear raised an eyebrow. "An offer?"

Nick's hustler instincts were working overtime - he was good at improvising and had plenty of experience in talking people into giving him what he wanted, but his track record with people who knew his antics was less than optimal. And I think I once talked this guy out of the keys for one of the ZPD cruisers at two in the morning..."Yeah! Look..." He licked his lips while trying to come up with a good narrative. "I think it's clear that this isn't your idea, right? We barely know each other, so you don't really want to hurt me... right? I was thinking that... maybe... just maybe... we could reach an agreement where we all just pretend that we went through all the horrible torture...? So... why don't we talk about what you want?"

"What do I want...?" The bear blinked slowly and furrowed his brow. Then he flexed his claws, and Nick felt his chances dwindling. "I want you to try your silver-tongue act on somebody else. You know what they say: fool me once..."

"This is about the cruiser, isn't it?" Nick was mentally kicking himself - that stunt had been unnecessary, and now it was apparently going to result in at the very least massive pain. "Look, I told you, we needed it to-"

"Yes, yes, visit your poor, sick mother, I know. Practically lying on her deathbed."

Did I really go with such a rookie lie? How drunk had I been?"Well, you'll be happy to hear that she recovered quickly when she saw me. Love of a son, you know. And it's all thanks to your help! My mother's gratitude will accompany you for the rest of your days." He gave the bear his best innocent smile.

"The cruiser had been covered with penis graffiti when you returned it!"

Nick blinked, then laughed. "Oh, THAT car! Shit, I had totally forgotten that one! But I distinctly remember showing you my mother's thank-you letter and us sharing a somber moment of thinking about our parents when I returned it..." He gave the bear his widest smile. "So did I actually manage to talk you out of TWO cars without you realizing that you fell for the exact same lie twice?"

He was painfully aware that his stupid antics in the past had just cost him the most reliable way out of this mess, but when the bear roared in anger, Nick swiftly changed mental gears and lowered his center of gravity a little bit. The attack came a moment later, all rage and little technique as the bear lashed out with one gigantic hand, claws ready to turn Nick's face into confetti. Predictable,_he thought and took a half-step back to avoid the attack. Then, even while the bear was trying to recover from having missed his target, Nick delivered a swift combination of precisely aimed strikes. His knuckles slammed into the bear's still outstretched arm, finding the elbow joint with practiced ease. Even as his attacker was processing that his arm was suddenly hurting like crazy, Nick's heel came crashing onto his right kneecap. _Good start, now go for- He froze. No, wait, this isn't about keeping him down. Search for the keys and get out!_The bear was on the floor by now, groaning in pain. Nick knew he had only seconds before his opponent would get to his senses again, and he used them to search through his pockets. _Please please please- His hands touched something cold and hard. _YES!_he thought as he pulled out a large key. In a flash, he was at the door. Behind him, he heard the bear struggling to get up, and Nick slammed the key into the lock as quickly as possible. With one quick yank, the door slid open, and he practically leapt out into the corridor.

And straight into pure, unfiltered and all-encompassing pain.

"Holy shit, didn't think I'd actually be needed!" Nick saw a cheetah's feet move through his field of vision, and it took him a moment to realize that he was lying on the ground. "He actually knocked your dumb ass to the ground?" the cheetah asked, apparently addressing the bear.

"Fuck off," the bear replied gruffly. "Did you get him?"

What the Hell was that? Nick asked himself, trying to get to his feet again. It was easier said than done since, despite the pain slowly passing, his body seemed to be having trouble coordinating its limbs. Electric shock from a stun gun, of course. DAMMIT! Come on, Nick, shake it off!

"Of course I got him. See?"

There was a pause. "Is that a pink taser?"

"Yeah, it's a civilian Fox Away model. Seemed appropriate to buy one, given the recent influx."

"Influx? Seriously? There is exactly ONE fox at the Academy. I really don't see why you needed to buy a fucking pink fox taser just for him."

"Oh come on, when is there not a need for a fox taser?"

A large hand grabbed Nick's shirt and dragged his limp body back into the cell. "You're weird," the bear growled.

"Says the guy who got knocked out by a fox."

"He did NOT knock me out!" The bear slammed Nick into the seat facing away from the door and cuffed his hands behind his back. As Nick's body drooped forward, he could feel that the chain of the handcuffs was attached to the back of the chair. He gulped when he realized that he was now fully at the mercy of his captors.

"Sure, sure." The cheetah was sounding amused, but then he paused. "What's the drill still doing here?"

"Don't know, and to be frank, I don't care anymore. Grizzoli prolly forgot it." Going by the sounds, the bear was walking away, leaving just the cheetah.

"Oh sure, let me not just save the day, but also clean up!" The cheetah muttered, then huffed. "Dick." And with that, he grabbed the power drill and also left the room, closing the door behind him and leaving a very confused Nick seated at the table.

Nick used the few minutes it took for his body to recover from the electric shock to process the new information. Grizzoli. That's the name of a ZPD officer. Polar bear, all chuckles and kindness, at least until some fool tries to steal his badge. In Nick's defense, he had not been that particular idiot, but had been around just long enough to organize and re-sell popcorn at a vastly inflated price to the spectators of the resulting brawl. What's a ZPD officer doing here with a power drill? He frowned before applying Occam's Razor to the situation: ZPD officers can write and sign letters of recommendation, and this room is probably where all new recruits are subjected to... what, a trial?_He tugged at his chains again and tried to imagine the previous cadet sitting here just like him. The guy who had been called out before Nick had been a wolf - capable in all areas, but sort of an asshole and a slight bully to anybody stupid enough to openly oppose him. _Heh, maybe they drilled the stupid out of his brain. Nick chuckled nervously. _And that's ridiculous, ha ha ha, because that obviously did not happen and will not happen to you, ha ha._He took a deep breath and blinked when he realized that that indeed had not happened - he couldn't smell blood or cleaning agents. _So Grizzoli took the drill and... did what? Threaten him? Pretend to go through with it?_Nick blinked when he felt the puzzle pieces rapidly falling into place. "Hazing," he whispered. "This is just a fricken prank they play on you before they let you leave..."

"Close, Wilde."

The voice had come straight from behind him, and Nick nearly jumped out of his chair. He had not heard the door opening or closing, which meant that somebody had been waiting behind him without making a sound ever since he had been handcuffed. He tried to turn around as much as the handcuffs allowed. "WHO-" He froze when he saw who had been selected to be his tormentor. Three feet with ears, an energetic bundle of cute, and a kick guaranteed to send you home crying if you actually called her that at the wrong time. "Carrots?" The word was out before Nick realized that it was probably among the dumber things to say at the moment.

Judy Hopps, Zootopia's first rabbit police officer and the officer responsible for actually getting _two_of the city's mayors behind bars within a couple of days, was giving him a mildly annoyed look, but refrained from commenting on the potential faux-pas for the time being. Nick noticed that she was wearing her more formal uniform instead of the neoprene/kevlar combination she usually wore on duty. He presumed this meant that any potential sparring would be done verbally, an area where he saw himself with the advantage. "Cadet Wilde," she finally addressed him and moved into his proper field of vision instead of lurking a half-step behind him.

Cadet Wilde? Aw, Carrots, why so formal? Nick was close to smiling mischievously, but then he noticed the attaché case she was carrying. I swear to God, if this is another fox taser or a rabbit-sized power drill, I will go on a rant. Come on, show me that you put some work into your hazing!

The case was casually set on the table - Nick noticed only now that the table was sized for medium-to-large sized folks like him, so it was slightly too tall for her - and Judy jumped onto the chair. She opted not to sit down since that probably would have led to only her ears making it past the table top. Still, she pretended not to notice that this room was not rabbit-friendly and instead turned the case so that it was facing her. After two quiet clicks, the lid sprung open, and Judy glanced inside to verify that she had not forgotten anything. "Welcome to your Recommendation Hearing! I apologize for any discomfort you might have experienced on your way-"

"HA!" The laugh was out before he could stop himself. "I was tasered and manhandled like some common thug!" Yes, fabulous opening statement, Nick. That sure as hell won't be held against you. Now what? Apologize? Or should I press ahead and see if I can somehow push this far enough to reclaim the initiative? He sneered, going with option two. "Come on, Carrots, drop the act. I know this is nothing more than hazing. You just want to play-pretend being a real police officer with me before I get my own badge. That's cute, and I might've played along if Bozo and Bingo out there hadn't tried to set my fur on fire with electricity." Any buttons left to push aside from insulting her mother? None? Great! Somehow implying that she still isn't a real cop was such a nice touch. His outburst made Judy give him a long stare, but it didn't seem to have any effect beyond that. In a way, Nick appreciated that - Judy had indeed come a long way since the day of their first meeting. It also helps that you're chained up while she can break your ankles and still pass it off as a regrettable accident.

When she was sure that he was done talking, Judy calmly reached into her case and took out four sheets of paper, which she spread out in front of her. They all looked the same - ZPD header, Judy's signature at the bottom, and several paragraphs of text in-between. Then she took out a black device and propped it up on the table on four thin legs. It reminded Nick of a portable document scanner, and the quiet beeping the thing made when Judy pushed a button seemed to confirm this. The last item to come out of the case was a small digital stopwatch. "Cadet, I assure you that this is not simple hazing. This is your final hurdle before entering the ranks of Zootopia's finest. Some professional behavior would be appropriate."

"Look, Judy, this is ridiculous. I-"

"You will address me properly, Cadet," Judy admonished him, raising her voice just enough to show her aggravation. "This means that you will call me Officer Hopps, Officer, or simply ma'am. Do you understand?"

Are you kidding me? Nick was searching for a hint of a smile, anything to communicate that she was joking. When he found nothing, he sighed. "Yes, ma'am."

"Very good." She flipped one of the four pages so that it was facing him and pushed it across the table. Nick glanced at it, and he couldn't stop his ears from perking up when he realized that it was a glowing recommendation, describing not just his involvement in her first major case (conveniently leaving out all the meaner things he had done), but also going into detail how his people skills and experience would be an invaluable asset for the ZPD. "This is your letter of recommendation, Wilde. The four copies are identical, and you will need one to graduate from the Academy."

Nick found himself nodding. The reality of his recommendation was almost overwhelming - he was actually about to become a police officer! But then he remembered that he was still in the not-quite-hazing room and that there was something odd in being presented with four copies of a letter when he needed just one. "Why did you bring four?" he heard himself ask. For the first time during this meeting, Judy gave him a huge smile, and Nick immediately wished the more serious facade back - there was something horribly unsettling about the way she was looking at him. Still smiling, she picked up the letter and held it over the machine.

And Nick finally realized what it was... half a second before she dropped the page.

The paper shredder ate his letter with a ferocity and volume that made Nick cringe. He wanted to look at Judy to ask her what the hell was wrong with her (or with that shredder - there was no way an office shredder was normally this loud), but he found that he couldn't look away from the thin strips of paper raining down from the bottom of the machine. _That was my recommendation letter. That. Was. My. Recommendation. Letter._His eyes flicked over to the remaining three copies, and from there to what he now regarded as Judy's slasher smile. He opened his mouth several times, but held back all statements of disbelief, fear or rage. Finally, he took a deep breath. "What do you want, Officer Hopps?" he asked quietly, his body language communicating defeat without any effort on his side.

"Very good, you have finally understood the gravity of your situation." Judy casually moved the remaining letters aside and jumped onto the table. Then she sat down on the edge right in front of him. "Like I said, Cadet Wilde, this is your Recommendation Hearing. All you have to do is to say what I want to hear and convince me that you mean it, even if you don't. What do you call that again?" She tapped her chin with one finger, as if she actually had to think about it. "Oh, of course! Lying! That's it. See, this should be easy for you!" She gave him an expectant look. "After all, lying is second nature for foxes, right?"

Nick's eyes turned into angry slits, and he was baring his teeth before his consciousness could even figure out what was going on. _FUCK YOU, RABBIT, AND FUCK ALL YOUR SIBLINGS AND COUSINS AND UNCLES AND WHAT-NOT. THAT'S ALL YOU'RE GOOD AT AT, AFTER ALL!_His brain was desperately trying to get his instincts under control - it hadn't been fast enough to stop the teeth, but it had barely managed to hold back his snarl and the nasty reply. For years, Nick had hidden his true feelings behind a carefully crafted mask, taking great care to not let anybody see past it. After befriending Judy, he had felt much more at ease without the mask, figuring that he was able to face any prejudice with an open, genuine smile. He just hadn't expected the one person he fully trusted to stab him in the back like this. The added stress from getting tasered and handcuffed didn't exactly help.

"Typical," Judy calmly prepared another stick of dynamite to toss into the flames, "not content with simply being a compulsive liar, the fox bares his teeth, desperately trying to act like a real predator. But it's just another lie. That's why your kind is so easily subdued with a muzzle - you are telling yourself that you are on the same level as the leopards and wolves of this world, but when the chips are down, you realize that you are nothing but a cowardly liar."

TAKE YOUR FUCKING LETTER AND SHOVE IT UP YOUR FLUFFY BUTT! SO FUCKING SICK AND TIRED OF PREY SPECIES SPREADING LIES ABOUT FOXES!_He leaned forward and opened his mouth, but barely stopped himself from actually saying any part of his rant out loud. Clenching and unclenching his hands, he forced himself to just breathe and to somehow not make himself look like a rabid animal that needed to be taken down. _Calm down, Nick! She's baiting you! She knows how your reputation as a fox is a sore spot for you! She just wants an excuse to feed another letter into that shredder! "Of course, Officer," he hissed, not bothering to keep the anger out of his voice.

"Of course what, Cadet?"

He gritted his teeth. I will make you pay for this. Dearly. "Of course lying is all foxes are good at, Officer. It's our second nature, and we are raised to be good at lying from birth." Bitch.

"See, you're a wonderful liar!" Judy praised him and gave him a sweet smile. She probably also would have patted his head, but the chair was a bit too far away from the table. "So, let us begin."

Let us begin? BEGIN? I'm already struggling not to MAIM her, and we haven't even STARTED yet!? Nick was blinking in confusion and leaned back in his chair.

"Do you know why you are here, Cadet Wilde?"

Nick took a moment to gather himself and to purge the last rage from his system before he considered an answer. Calm down, Nick! Judy is your friend - this is just some stupid, hateful script she's following, and you know she feels sorry for having to say such horrible things to you. And you shouldn't flip out like this to begin with. You like her, and you have become a better person. Just stay calm, and savor the anticipation of her apology for poking her finger in your old wounds. "Well, I need the recommendation letter." It was of course not the correct answer, but Nick recognized an open, mostly rhetorical question when he heard one, so there was little sense in trying to come up with a wittier one.

"Of course." Judy idly drummed her fingers on the table. "And you already half-correctly guessed that this is a form of hazing. It is certainly true that your instructors and future coworkers enjoy this little exercise quite a bit." She briefly bit her lower lip and looked at the ceiling. It made her look a bit like a little girl, but Nick refused to let his guard down. "After all, quite a few cadets spend every free minute on giving their teachers a hard time when they think they can get away with it, so a little payback is usually fair."

"Then your hazing must've been quite boring, Officer Saint Hopps." Nick was pleased that his old hustling habits worked even when his consciousness was a raging sea of emotions.

"Ha!" Judy's expression quickly went from amused to annoyed, then back to amused. "First rabbit about to graduate? I've been told there had been auditions for the position of the interrogator."

Well, when you put it like that, Nick conceded silently, then raised an eyebrow. "How many takers were there for the first fox?"

"Oh, Ni-..." Judy froze, realizing almost too late that Nick had been quietly seizing the initiative. "Impressive, Wilde! It's good to know that I haven't exaggerated your soft-skills in this letter!"

"It was worth a shot," Nick admitted with an innocent smile. She has a plan, but I can get her to talk. Good. Keep it up, and I can maybe-_His eyes widened when Judy grabbed another letter without even looking. "NO, WAIT! DON'T-" He cursed under his breath while the shredder roared to life again, turning chance two out of four into a pile of lametta. _Stupid, Nick! Stupid! You forgot the stakes! She has little to lose, and every time she catches you, she can punish you.

"To answer your question, Wilde," Judy said as if she had not just casually reminded Nick that she had the power to ruin his life, "there were indeed quite a few contenders for this spot." She cocked her head. "Most of them wanted to get even for something highly specific you did to them. We even had requests from the kitchen staff - something that I have been assured has never happened before. Is it true that you organized a feast by posing as an overseer from the - non-existent, I might add - Department of Due Dates and telling the cook that, thanks to new regulations, all food in the kitchen was about to go bad within two days?"

Nick couldn't hold back a wide grin. "The teacher in one of the lessons about fraud had trouble convincing the other cadets that regular people could easily fall for the most outrageous cons. So I decided to help out by cold-calling the kitchen in front of everybody. Five minutes later, I walked out of that class with an A+ and fifteen hundred bucks in cash from the betting pool." He hesitated. "In my defense, I did think that the teacher would tell the kitchen staff to call off the feast."

"Of course," Judy muttered and gave him a look that was somewhere between amusement and exasperation. "Still, I managed to convince them that I would be better suited for the job, also because the cook isn't even eligible. After all, I'm not here for petty revenge, but to make you a better person, which is what this exercise is really all about."

"So this is just an after-school special where the bad guys learn a lesson about the true value of life?"

"In a way," Judy admitted airily. "Can you guess why I've come for you, Wilde?"

"Jumbo-pop hustle?"

"Oh, please. That's ancient history."

"Nearly ruining your career by delaying you at the DMV?"

"Also distant past, and you did make up for it later on."

Nick blinked and tried to skip ahead in his internal note-keeping system. "Convincing the recruiter that I am both your long-lost brother and your widower?"

Judy rubbed the bridge of her nose in frustration. "You told a ZPD officer that I was not just involved in an incestuous affair, but also dead. And he was absolutely convinced of that until I literally spelled out the problems with his claims. That's actually impressive enough that I can't even stay mad at you."

The fox chuckled, but then frowned as he couldn't think of any other instances after their big case where Judy had been involved in his schemes in any capacity. "Well, Officer Hopps, I don't think I know why you're here, then."

"Really." Judy crossed her arms and gave him a look. "You have no idea why there may be doubts about your qualifications as a police officer?"

"I'm afraid not," Nick admitted, trying desperately not to look at the two remaining letters on the desk.

"That's a shame, but I'll give you a hint." Judy was smiling, but Nick could see that it was just a mask, barely hiding something crueler. "It would've been nice if you had played against stereotype, but I should've known that foxes are just using lies and trickery to cover up the fact that they are among the dumbest pred-"

Nick threw himself forward with enough force to make his wrists hurt as the handcuffs dug into them. Unlike last time, his brain had been too slow to prevent him from retaliating. His subconscious had been preparing for this moment since Judy's last snide remark, and it was ready to make her pay for every last word. "FUCK-"

The rest of his tirade was cut off when something threw him against the back of the chair with enough force to leave him winded.

What the Hell was that? he asked himself and shook his head in disbelief. _No pain in my arms - aside from the sore wrists, and those are my fault - so I wasn't pulled back. But then what-_He looked down and blinked when he realized that he was staring at Judy's outstretched leg. Looking down even more confirmed that her foot was actually pressing against his shirt.

"It's wonderful when you are following the script even though you don't realize there is one," Judy quipped, but Nick was still busy staring at the foot that was pushing against his chest. His brain was being surprisingly slow when it came to processing this sudden turn of events. "Do you now realize why you are here?"

"I..." Foot. "I mean..." _Judy's foot._His thought process was grinding to a halt for some reason. His brain couldn't even free up enough resources to make his eyes look up again.

Judy snickered and moved her foot. Before Nick could react, it moved up along the line of buttons of his shirt until it was wedged right below his head. The touch of Judy's fur on the underside of his muzzle made Nick gasp. "Eyes up here, Cadet," Judy teased him and pulled his muzzle up with her foot until they were making eye contact again. "You still with me?"

His brain was decidedly not with her. Instead, it was busy polling his senses to see if it could reach a consensus that this was disgusting as fuck and that he should tell her to let go of him, hazing or no hazing. Results were... inconclusive at best. His nose, the major player in this situation, was torn between being grossed out and noting that she must have showered right before this little stunt - it could smell shampoo and even some kind of scented oil. Cinnamon, maybe? Meanwhile, his eyes were not exactly displeased by looking down along Judy's shapely leg and into her seemingly inviting eyes. His sense of touch, the last important candidate, wasn't even responding to any calls - it was too busy focusing on the way Judy's fur meshed with his.

"...wow, that really did a number on you, didn't it?" Judy asked after several seconds of silence. She was still sounding amused, but there was a hint of something else in her voice. Nick couldn't quite place it, and that worried him.

She slowly lowered her foot, and Nick almost cried out when he couldn't feel her gentle touch anymore. What is going on here?_Nick was certain that none of his reactions were making sense, but he was incapable of figuring out where things had gone off the rails, or how. He vaguely recalled being angry at her, but that seemed impossibly far in the past. _Wasn't that just thirty seconds ago? Removing her foot somehow turned everything upside down for Nick - his brain was starting to fire on all cylinders again, but his senses were utterly confused: something was missing, something had been taken away from him and he desperately wanted it back. What? Increased clock speed obviously didn't do him much good when all input was garbage. Finding himself completely unable to verbalize his emotions, Nick did the next best thing - he whined.

He regretted it the moment he did it. First of all, whining sent all the wrong signals: weakness, helplessness and lack of control. And, maybe more importantly, Nick considered genuine whining to be a private, almost intimate expression; something to be done - if at all - in front of family or lovers, not with future coworkers or friends.

Much to her credit, Judy didn't make a scene out of it. However, Nick could tell that she knew that this hadn't just been a random, meaningless sound: her ears twitched, and her eyes widened significantly. He knew he had lost their game, even if he had no concrete idea what game they had been playing in the first place. "Here's the deal, Wilde," she announced and snapped her fingers twice to get his attention. "You are a highly capable cadet, and everybody who knows you is certain that you would make a tremendous addition to the ranks of the ZPD."

Oh? Nick was thankful that Judy had given him something nice to focus on instead of watching his mental gears grind themselves to fine dust over the whole foot-and-fur thing. "Really? What about-"

"The people you hustled are among your most vocal supporters," she answered the question before Nick could finish it. "Even though I suspect that they just want you to be somebody else's headache."

"Fair enough," Nick conceded with a sly smile.

"Buuut... looking beyond your skills and your tendency to be an aggravating prankster, you can be gigantic asshole who discriminates against prey species." Her bluntness made Nick do a double-take. "Or so people say, at least. Now, I'm no psychologist, but I suspect that there may be some childhood trauma to blame, possibly involving bullying by prey species."

Oh har-dee-fricken-har. "A sensible diagnosis, considering that I literally told you my backstory a couple of months ago," he said, not even bothering to hide his sarcasm.So this is what this is all about. That would explain why Judy suddenly started to spout anti-fox rhetoric - it had either been a last chance to prove the nay-sayers wrong or an opportunity to get me properly riled up for this supposed lesson. Either way, House Wins. "So what's the deal? Therapy? Community work? Charitable donations?" Ritual flogging?

Judy smiled knowingly - he was obviously following her script again. "You're free to seek counseling or make amends as you please in your free time, Wilde. For the purpose of this hearing, though, we will just do a short test to verify that you can be trusted right now." She reached behind her and picked up the stopwatch. After pushing a few buttons, she held it up for him to see '05:00:00' on the display. "The average length of police interaction with civilians is five minutes," she said, although Nick knew that this was a complete fabrication - while there were no hard numbers, the estimate was significantly higher. "If you can last that long without screaming, snarling, baring your teeth, or intimidating me in any other way, you get one of these." She gestured at the last two letters.

And if not...? Nick didn't have to ask. Even if there was a second chance to get a letter of recommendation, he would have failed here and now, and both he and Judy would know that. "You, pushing my buttons and giving me a long speech about why I'm not fit to be a police officer because of what I am? That sounds moderately familiar - I bet you have been looking forward to this since the day we first met." It probably wasn't the smartest way to start his decisive test. Then again, acknowledging that he was not entirely innocent maybe helped to make him look repentant.

"Oh please, Wilde, I take no joy in making people suffer," she claimed, but her sly smile told another story. "After all," she said and pushed another button, making the stopwatch beep, "I'm not a fox."

"I'll give you bonus points for firing the first shot right out of the gate, Officer Hopps," Nick told her and smiled politely, but internally, he winced. It hadn't been a deep cut, but he still felt it. Stay calm, Nick. You can do this. You haven't let insults get to you for decades, so five minutes should be doable, even after tearing down the old walls. Besides, she never said that I wouldn't be allowed to engage her in some conversation... just some chit-chat to kill the time... His smile widened almost imperceptibly. "Did you practice that, or does it come naturally? I heard you scored quite well in the one-on-one interrogation tests." That was of course a lie, but a very believable one. Judy had been at the top of her class, after all, and one did not get there with bad grades in a rather important subject.

"It's all natural," Judy replied airily. "Foxes just bring out the worst in people. It's like when you put a rotten apple in a full basket - give it a few hours, and everything is spoiled."

Nick blinked. Okay, so she either practiced comebacks, or I'm not the only one in this room with prejudice issues. Gotta step up my game if I want to keep her talking without making me bite out her throat in self-defense. Still smiling, he opened his mouth to deliver a witty comeback of his own.

"Also, you already tried to steer the conversation once before," she cut him off, and Nick froze when he realized what she was up to.

No! His eyes widened when Judy casually reached for the two letters. He was about to cry out, to beg her not to do it, but then he saw her expectant look - she was waiting for him to screw up. Damn her! He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes in defeat. Two seconds later, the shredder roared to life once again. Shit, shit, shit... His fate was now depending completely on the final letter. One last chance, and probably more than four minutes to go. No more tricks, no more experiments. Just play it safe and let her do the talking. "I'm sorry, Officer Hopps, I deserved that," he whispered, hoping that this was what she wanted to hear.

"Yes, you did," she scolded him. "This is what your vulpine trickery earns you. Though this is probably the first time a fox ever had to think about the consequences of his actions." He heard her fingers drumming on the table. "Maybe I should go easy on you. Kinda like, slowly ease you into this whole new world of honesty and responsibility."

Part of him wanted to open his eyes again, but another part was arguing that her stream of insults would be a bit easier to endure if he didn't have to look at her cruel smile. "Whatever you say, Officer Hopps." How much longer? Three minutes? No, probably more.

It had sounded like a good answer in his head, but her drumming was sounding more aggravated. "Think you're so clever, don't you? Think you can just play dead and wait for the time to run out? Well, we'll see about that..."

For a horrible moment, Nick thought that he'd hear the shredder again, that it was all over now, that he had somehow been too passive. After long, agonizing seconds, his ears gave a very tentative all-clear. However, another sense provided some unexpected input.

Cinnamon?

His eyes flew open when he realized what his nose was trying to tell him, but it was already way too late to react. A shiver ran down his spine when Judy's foot brushed against the underside of his muzzle. Oh God, oh God, oh God... This time, his brain unceremoniously threw in the towel right from the start. Oh. His fists slowly unclenched. His breathing slowed down. All anxiety somehow left him. God.

"Yeah, that does seem to get your attention," Judy mused. "Should've known, really. I mean, foxes are nothing but instinct-driven, mindless brutes, right?"

Nothing. No reaction. His brain was apparently out for lunch, and his senses of touch and smell were now running the show.

Judy was staring openly by now, apparently just as amazed by this turn of events as he was. Very slowly, she rubbed her foot back and forth, making Nick gasp and squirm. "This feels good, doesn't it?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop...

She abruptly moved her foot down, away from his muzzle. Nick wheezed; his brain was trying to take control of the show again, only to discover that his senses were throwing a fit about this latest turn of events. "I asked," Judy hissed, "this feels good, doesn't it?"

"I... I..." Nick blinked rapidly. Say no! Don't get angry or raise your voice, but she needs to know that you did not enjoy this! You need to gain control of this situation, and let's try to maintain some dignity while we're at it! "...yes," he whispered.

Her smile was back in full force, one part amused, one part knowing, one part cruel, and about ten parts of that emotion he couldn't place before. "Yes, what?" She slowly pulled back her foot, and Nick started to lean forward without even realizing it.

"Yes, Officer Hopps," he whispered, never taking his eyes off her bare toes.

"Mh, I figured as much." She idly wriggled her toes. "I wonder what you would do for more of it..."

The handcuffs clinked quietly when they touched the back of the chair - Nick was now leaning forward as far as possible, arms twisted back in an almost painful way. His nose mere inches from her foot - so close, and yet so far away. What if I dislocated one of my arms? Would that buy me an inch or two? I could also break my thumb to get out of those handcuffs. Then-... WHAT AM I THINKING? With the last remaining shred of his sanity, he leaned back a little bit. Cooling down, he realized that his pants seemed to have gotten a lot tighter during the last couple of minutes, and he prayed that Judy was too preoccupied to look down. Easy, Nick. As long as you can string more than two thoughts together again, you should probably work out a strategy for the next three or so minutes. You already dug a hole for yourself, now put the shovel away and maybe even try to climb back out. "Alright, I'll admit that that felt good, even though I don't know how you did it. But I'm sure we'll have a good laugh about this later, when you tell me whether the pheromones smelled like cinnamon or if you applied cinnamon perfume to mask the last traces of their smell." He watched her eyes go wide, though he wasn't sure if it was because she had been caught or because his accusation was so wrong that she hadn't even considered it - he knew he was risking his last letter, but at this point, he had to go all-or-nothing in order to not completely lose his mind to the intoxicating allure of her feet. "For now, sure, I'll bite - what do you think I'd do for more of it?"

For long seconds, Judy said nothing and instead just gave him a look, as if trying to evaluate which parts of his little speech he really believed. Finally, she pressed a button on the stopwatch, and it paused with two quick beeps. Before he could ask what was going on, she jumped off the desk, landing neatly next to him. "Why don't we find out together?" And with that, she swiftly moved behind him.

He was suddenly pulled back by his handcuffs, but not violently. Then he felt them clicking open. "What-...?"

Judy practically dragged him from his chair, eager to keep the initiative. "Down, Wilde."

In a weird way, he was thankful when she pulled him down until he was on his hands and knees next to her - this position was extremely humiliating, but at least the bulge in his pants was somewhat hidden from her this way.

Moving quickly, Judy placed the shredder on the floor next to her and held up the last letter in her right hand. "Okay, you got less than two minutes left. Let's see if you can do this." Nick wasn't looking up at her, his eyes instead focusing on the letter. His final chance. "All you have to do from here is to resist whatever urge you have to touch me. You can talk, you can scream, you can beg, but if any part of you touches any part of me before the time runs out, you lose."

His eyes flicked from the letter to her feet. They had trouble moving back up, but he barely managed it. "And after the time runs out...?"

"Then you're a cop and my coworker. I'll treat you with the utmost respect, and I expect you to do the same. As police officers, we have to uphold the highest standards, so we shouldn't lick each other's feet."

Well, she has a point there. I shouldn't- His pants seemed to shrink another size. -lick... lick... lick... Without any conscious effort, his gaze drifted back down.

"You certainly agree that that would not be proper ZPD conduct, right?"

Lick... lick... lick... The word was rapidly burning itself into his mind, happily erasing police training, hustling skills and just about all higher brain functions.

"But look on the bright side," Judy teased him, "no matter what happens, your name will make its way into the history of the Academy: either as the first fox to graduate... or as Zootopia's most educated footstool."

Lick. Lick. Lick. The infinite loop was gradually turning into a series of commands. A shiver ran down his spine, making his tail twitch.

Judy didn't seem to notice - or maybe she just didn't comment on it. "So, let's start the clock again." The stopwatch beeped happily. "Aaand go."

Lick. Nick froze. The stopwatch had - Lick. - still been paused? I'm already close to - Lick. - licking her- NO! NO! I mean, yes, but that wasn't what I licked! I mean licked! I mean thought! FOCUS! By God, you can do this, Lick! NICK! GAH! He was trembling. Ten seconds more of this, and he would whine. Half a minute, and he would start crying. Total time until complete mental and emotional collapse? Well under two minutes.

Actually, may I offer a second opinion?_a part of him that had been rather silent so far spoke up. Nick closed his eyes and figured that it was the aspect of his personality he had mostly ignored on his way to becoming Officer Nicholas Wilde, Fox With Ambitions To Make Society A Better Place. It was the sly part of him that had dared him to one-up his regular hustle by making that cutesy-innocent bunny meter maid not just pay for the jumbo-pop, but to do so with a smile on her doofy face. Why? Fuck if he knew, but it sure was fun! Screw the consequences, things will probably work out! _You're awfully tormented by this, aren't you?

Nick thought about the outstretched foot that was just a few inches away. Daring him. Inviting him. I can't, I shouldn't, I mean, I want to, but-

Yes, yes. So let me help you out by asking one simple question: Why not?

Why not? What?

His calmer self laughed quietly. Look. Even though you didn't properly invest your money, you're still rich enough to survive comfortably. And while you hated yourself for pretending to be a shifty, stereotypical fox, you loved to hustle folks. Loved feeling better than others. Loved the rush of intellectual superiority. If all else fails, you can go back to that if you liked. Be a good guy who occasionally hustles people for fun. Nick felt the voice going in for the kill. You don't need to be a cop. Becoming a cop is not this big once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. But do you know what is?

Nick took a deep breath - and was almost overwhelmed by the smell of cinnamon. He opened his eyes and yelped when he realized that his nose was less than an inch away from her toes; he had been moving towards her foot without even realizing it. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.

Come on, Nick, the voice egged him on, just like it had in the ice cream parlor. Stop torturing yourself and just do what feels right.

Oh God. The voice was wrong. He wanted to become a police officer. He wanted Judy to be proud of him.

Oh God. But at the same time, he couldn't deny that the voice had a point - a badge was not a requirement for Judy to be proud of him, right? And money was of no concern - he had plenty of other options to legally make several hundred bucks before the end of any given day. This on the other hand...

Oh God. He closed his eyes, but deep down, he knew that he was merely delaying the inevitable by now. The voice was right. Wrong, but right. Did that make sense?

Finally, Nick's willpower had been pushed beyond its limits. His remaining worries had successfully been shoved aside with the help of his bad influence on himself, and now there was only one thing left to do. There was no hesitation, no holding back as he stuck out his tongue and closed the distance. OH GOD YES. His sense of smell was drowning in cinnamon bliss, but his tongue was the star of the show. Surprisingly, he didn't taste any cinnamon, but rather... rabbit. Judy. The taste that corresponded to Judy's natural smell, mixed with sweat. It was PERFECT. He moved his entire head, dragging his tongue across her toes, taking in as much as possible before the heat of the moment passed. He was painfully aware that his member was fully erect inside his pants now, fighting against the way-too-tight fabric. Maybe if I thrust my hips, the friction might be enough to push me over the edge?

The shredder roared to life one final time, and Nick could feel tears running down his cheeks. His emotional landscape was a complete wreck: there was his arousal as he satisfied his newly discovered fetish (he hadn't really believed his wild guess about the pheromones), but there was also an incredible sense of shame as he effectively debased himself in front of the one person he truly respected. Somewhere off to the side of that battlefield, things weren't much better: there was a sense of failing and disappointing not just Judy, but his family and the ZPD itself. But there was also a strong feeling of... liberation. All masks had been discarded; this was who Nick truly was, and he was showing it without holding back. There was only one worry left now in his life: Can I convince her to let me lick her other foot, too?

But all good things had to come to an end, and Nick didn't struggle when Judy pulled back her foot and used it to nudge Nick onto his side. He didn't even bring up his hand when she placed it on his cheek. Quite on the contrary, he loved this feeling and briefly even considered thanking her. "The ZPD recruits the best and brightest people it can find," she told him, and something in her voice made him listen - she wasn't teasing or torturing him anymore; this was serious talk. "The Academy then trains these people to turn them into the best they can possibly be." She lifted her foot and turned around, picking up the shredder and the remains of the last letter. "Of course, there is a danger to this process. As the recruits become better and better, they might develop one bad quality." He remained motionless on the floor while she packed her case and snapped it shut. "And before allowing the recruits to pick up a gun and handcuffs, it must exorcise that quality." Now she was standing next to him, case in hand, looking down on him both literally and figuratively. "Do you know what it is?"

Nick felt empty. He had failed his training, he had failed Judy, and now he didn't even have the smell or taste of her foot anymore. His brain tried to come up with an answer to at least show her that he was not a complete imbecile, but it may as well have tried to explain and prove Fermat's Last Theorem in Klingon. "No, Officer." Yes. Officer. The thing that you are not and will never be. He couldn't bring himself to look her in the eyes. He wasn't even sure if he could ever do so again.

She paused briefly. Then, abruptly, she turned and walked towards the door, where she knocked four times. The door was unlocked almost immediately, and it was only in the brief pause between unlocking and opening that Judy spoke again: "It's haughtiness, Officer Wilde." And with that, she was gone.

Haughtiness? Nick's brain mulled it over. It could kinda see where Judy was coming from, but something about her sentence confused him. Then it hit him: Wait, what did she just call me?

"Aw jeeze," the bear said as he eyed Nick, "she really did a number on this one."

"I'm not gonna carry him." The cheetah calmly walked over to the table, ignoring the teary-eyed wreck on the floor. "Envelope's here," he muttered, and Nick heard the rustle of paper.

Paper. Not lametta. His eyes widened. Judy must've placed something on the table while packing her case. But what? ...could it be...?

"Well, no shit. Just look at the guy. She crammed his pride - and prolly his balls - into a mixer and hit the smoothie button."

"Yeah, not many people actually break down crying. I'd love to learn what she did to him. Too bad that the really good interrogators tend not to blab." The cheetah whistled quietly. "Damn, if I ever quit, I want her to write my letter of recommendation. This one is top-notch; he could prolly apply to become the next Pope with that."

Letter. Of. Recommendation. "Wha-" He struggled to get up. In the war zone that was his emotional landscape, hope was suddenly breaking through the clouds like the first ray of sunshine. "Is that...?"

The cheetah leaned down and held a piece of paper before his eyes. Unlike the other four letters, this one had been folded twice to fit into the envelope. Nick burst into a mix of a laugh and a sob when he read the first line: Recommendation for deployment as a ZPD Officer, District 1: Nicholas P. Wilde

The bear tapped his foot while Nick tried to come to terms with his emotions. "Yes, yes, you'll finally be somebody else's problem, good riddance." He roughly grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him up, then casually flung Nick over his shoulder while the cheetah folded and pocketed the letter. It was an awkward position, and not just for the obvious reasons. For one, it was humiliating, drawing attention to their size difference and implying weakness. He knew this because Finnick had once been quite verbose in pointing this out... while keeping Nick in a chokehold. But much worse, with the bear holding his legs and Nick facing the bear's rear, it meant that his crotch was pinned against the bear's shoulder. And... "The fuck?" the bear suddenly asked and held Nick in front of him at arm's length. "You got a fucking hard-on?"

"Seriously?" The cheetah snorted. "Okay, I take it back - I don't want to know what she did to him."

"Agreed, for once," the bear muttered. "Sorry, Wilde, but you're going to walk. Or hobble." He smirked and let Nick back down.

"Oh, I got an idea!" The cheetah fished a screwdriver and three screws out of his pocket and put them on the table.

It dawned on Nick that it had been no accident that the drill had been there before. It had probably been planted here just to make my imagination run wild.

"Why don't we let him expel his passion onto the trigger items?" the cheetah asked, gesturing at the table. "He'd prolly feel better, the next guy will be even more freaked out, and you could carry him without having to explain weird stains on your shoulder."

Both Nick and the bear gave him a long look. "Okay, first of all," the bear finally broke the awkward silence and held up his hand, counting off his arguments with his fingers, "hell no. Second, only if you clear them off the table afterwards and then throw them away some five hundred miles away from here. Third, he's not disabled, he can walk, I don't care if he has to walk funnily. And fourth, did you actually just use the words 'expel his passion' without any sense of irony?"

The cheetah gave them an awkward smile. "Somebody keeps selling my girlfriend metric tons of trashy erotica novels, and she makes me read them to her every evening, okay? I guess some of the purple prose managed to stick before my brain realized what was happening and abandoned ship."

"Dude, that's messed up," the bear replied, his voice somewhere between sympathy and mockery. "You gotta put your foot down. Tell her to at least pick a better book or something."

"I'd love to!" The cheetah scratched the fur on his head. "Granted, it gave us a few fun ideas for our nights of passion-" He ignored the way the bear mouthed the words 'nights of passion' with the most incredulous expression. "-but it's still not worth the brain damage. She just... she just fucking loves these things! Gah, if only I could figure out what asshat built his business on selling porn to cops!"

People kept asking Nick why he did the things he did. Money? Infamy? While neither answer was entirely wrong, the truth was that Nick enjoyed the thrill of the hustle itself. There was something about feeling intellectually superior that made him tick. And while the best kind of hustle was the one where the mark remained oblivious to the fact that they had been hustled, even the greatest mastermind sometimes felt the need to gloat. The trick was to only do so when it was reasonably safe.

Keeping all that in mind, Nick gave the cheetah a polite smile. "Your girlfriend doesn't happen to be teaching the Krav Maga classes, does she?" He watched the cheetah's expression - timing was always essential for a good reveal. "What's her name... Karen? No... Carol? Carol!" He snapped his fingers and beamed even while the implication was starting to work its way through the cheetah's mind. "Yeah, could you tell her that I managed to finally get the eighteenth volume of the Storm Princess Chronicles? She's been dying to find out more about Lady Juliette's fate after being cap-"

"IT WAS YOU!" the cheetah roared and let his claws spring free. "YOU FUCKING SOLD HER ALL THAT TRASH!"

Yep, still got it, Nick praised himself quietly even as the second instructor today charged straight at him in blind rage. Like the bear a few minutes earlier, the cheetah was full of openings as instincts shoved training aside. Unlike the earlier incident, however, Nick didn't drop into a fighting stance. Instead, he just gave the big cat his biggest, smuggest grin. He admitted that this was one of his riskier hustles, but he had learned not to question his instincts when it came to coming up with plans on the fly.

The cheetah crashed into him at what felt like fifty miles per hour. The tackle sent both of them to the ground, but the cheetah stayed on top of them. He immediately used his advantage to wrap one hand around Nick's neck. "WRONG FUCKING MOVE, WILDE!" he yelled and raised his free hand, claws ready to permanently remove the grin from Nick's face.

"THAT'S ENOUGH!" The cavalry arrived exactly at the right time: the bear was playing it safe and immediately grabbed the cheetah, only to throw him into the far corner of the room. "Snap out of it!"

"FUCK YOU!" the cheetah roared and got back to his feet. Then he spotted Nick standing behind the bear. "Typical fox! Too dumb to fight, so he has to hide behind a stronger guy!"

Much to Nick's relief, the insults didn't even sting. I guess they only get to me when it's Judy? Or maybe someone I trust on a deeper level?"Oh come on," he readied the stage for the final reveal, "surely we can part in a more amicable way than that! After all, we're both police officers, right?"

Nick could almost see the words pushing buttons inside the cheetah's head. "We're... both...?" he asked slowly before flashing him a crooked grin of his own. "Oh, is that so, Wilde? You think you're a cop already?" He reached into a pocket and got out a lighter. "Aren't you forgetting one tiny detail here...?"

"Dude, don't," the bear warned him when he realized what was going on in the cheetah's head. "You're crossing a line if-"

"SHUT UP! I HAVE TO READ SHITTY EROTICA EVERY GODDAMN NIGHT, AND CADET FOX-IN-SOCKS IS TO BLAME FOR IT!"

"Ah, it's Officer Fox-in-socks," Nick corrected him politely, pretending not to know what the cheetah was threatening to do. Not that I'm actually wearing socks, but this is not the time to be pedantic.

"HA! NO, IT FUCKING ISN'T, WILDE!" And with that, the cheetah dramatically reached into the pocket where he had stashed the recommendation letter.

And then he froze.

"Oh, I'm awfully sorry," Nick chimed in even while the cheetah was frantically patting his pockets, "are you maybe looking for this?" And with that, he held up the letter he had pickpocketed when he and the cheetah had crashed to the floor.

"Oh, you fucking... FOX!" the cheetah cried out and once again tried to charge at him.

This time, of course, the bear was much more prepared and roughly subdued his friend. "I sure hope you're happy, Wilde," he muttered even as he slung the cursing and struggling cat onto his shoulder. "I ended up carrying somebody out of this room after all."

"Oh, I'm very happy - I get to be a cop," Nick replied cheerfully. "Everything else is just a welcome bonus." Also, I firmly established that I'm in control again. Nick Wilde is back. Whatever happened there with Judy was... well, I don't know what it was, but it's over. Good riddance. No licking back. He blinked. Looking. No looking back.