Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

    Ozzie Rodbit woke up early in the morning, getting into his white, short-sleeved t-shirt. Then, he put on his jean overalls and matching hat, giving himself a brow-furrowed smirk in the mirror. He was a black rabbit, almost entirely black except for some white masking on his face. Even his eyes were so dark brown that they might as well be black; he even had a black nose. But he thought he was as handsome as rabbits came. Another great day to be a Rodbit, he thought to himself. Adjusting his hat, he walked into the kitchen of his family's modest home in the Downtown area of Savanna Central, where he found his father, Walter, still in his sleeping clothes.

    "Uh, dad, ain'tcha gonna get ready for work?" Ozzie cocked an eyebrow. From being born and raised in the heart of Zootopia, Ozzie's voice carried a slight city edge to it. Walter sipped some coffee calmly. He looked much like Ozzie, only he had a few more pounds on him and a black pattern under his nose that looked somewhat like a mustache.

    "Nope! Not today, son," Walter smiled, looking through the newspaper. "Probably not any other day from now on, either."

    "Wha- what!?" Ozzie held his arms open in surprise. "You're retirin'!? Just like that? But... but you and I are a team! A dynamic duo, kinda!"

    "Son, I think it's about time you took up the Rodbit wrench, as it were, and took over The Lucky Rodbit," Walter gave a smile over to his son. Ozzie did not seem confident in this assessment. He looked at both of his paws.

    "Dad! There's no way I can run that auto shop by myself!" Ozzie protested, holding his arms out toward his father. "You just fired everyone else from the shop not a month ago! What am I supposed to do?"

    "No, you shouldn't run it by yourself," Walter agreed, shaking his head. "I fired everyone because they were all part of my generation. Old-timers, with old ideas. It's time for the new generation to step in. You're twenty-seven; you know plenty about automobiles to do well in the business."

    "That's a bunch of dumbo-jumbo! They were good mammals!" Ozzie put his hands on his hips and stomped his foot. He looked quite cross.

    "Ah, they knew it was coming, Oswald," Walter laughed gently, sipping some of his coffee. "This is a grand tradition of the Rodbit family, dating back about a hundred years now! Each generation leaves the inheritor of The Lucky Rodbit with only the shop itself, and a little bit of spending money."

    "Tradition shmadition!" Ozzie folded his arms. "So you've all left some poor kit all alone with almost no money and no help? It's a wonder we've lasted this long in the biz!"

    "I was in your place one day, yelling at my own father in just this manner," Walter began. "I may not be too old, but my back's starting to act up all the time, and anyone I try to hire to help you wouldn't be your decision on what you'd want or where you'd want to take the company. It's gotta be you." Walter pointed at him. "You have to lead The Lucky Rodbit into the next generation. I have to be paws-off on this. You're old enough and have the smarts to pull it off, I know you do."

    "But I ain't a people-mammal!" Ozzie gave an exasperated sigh. "How am I gonna get any customers with my acrid tongue?"

    "Hire some friendly personnel, then," Walter smirked. "Start small, then work your way up. Have them deal with the customers. You work on the cars. Ideally, you'd find some friendly mammals who can also work on the cars. Maybe you can hire your sand cat girlfriend in the meantime." Walter gave a small laugh.

    "Don't bring her into this. She doesn't know anythin' about cars," Ozzie grunted. "This is ridiculous." He shook his head with his eyes closed. "It'll take a wish upon a star for me to keep The Lucky Rodbit in business."

    "Don't have so little faith in yourself, Oswald," Walter's gentle voice was warm. He got up slowly and put his hands on his shoulders. "Just remember, it was all started by a rabbit. Just one rabbit. That's why we've done it like we've done it for generations. The Rodbit name might not be the most prolific in auto-repair in Zootopia, but it is the most enduring."

    "And what if I screw up, huh? What then?" Ozzie gave a guilty, unsure look to his father. "What if I bring the Rodbit name to it's one-hundred year anniversary in a little box?"

    "Well, then I suppose our luck will have finally run out," Walter took his hands away from Ozzie. "But fate has yet to deal us a bad hand, so you just go for it."

    "That's reassuring," Ozzie rolled his eyes. "I don't like leaving things to luck. I really wanna do this, I wanna be recognized in the biz."

    "You have the 'drive' then," Walter grinned. "Vroom, vroom!" Ozzie groaned in annoyance. Walters voice became deep and mystical. "Son, always remember who you are."

    "All right dad, enough with the hokey pep talk," Ozzie grumbled. "I guess I better get this whole thing started."

    "That's the spirit!" Walter gave Ozzie a hug. "Just remember that you always have me here to fall back on."

    "Really?" Ozzie grinned after the hug. "That's a huge relief, cause-"

    "Of course, I won't actually do anything to help you, but feel free to complain to me all the same," Walter had a pleased smile; his eyes shut.
    
    "Ah, great," Ozzie's eyes half-lid.

    That evening, Ozzie walked in front of The Lucky Rodbit and regarded it with a large sigh, shoving his paws in his pockets. The building was technically nearly a hundred years old, but it had been worked on more than any single car in the shop ever had, so it still looked quite contemporary. One of the lights in the sign wasn't working, so it actually read "THE LUCKY RO BIT" at night.

    Ozzie grumbled, looking at the "CLOSED" sign and entering the shop, the tiles of the customer waiting area cool on his paws. He looked at all of the things that were off that would soon have to be on. The door leading to the garage opened for him as he pushed on it. Ozzie sniffed. It barely even smelled like oil in the garage, as there hadn't been a car in there in a little while. All of the lights were off, all of the doors were closed. Everything was "ready".

    "For me to screw up," Ozzie said aloud. "Nuts."

    Ozzie shut the door again and headed into his father's office, turning on his computer.

    "Guess this is all mine now," Ozzie grumbled, then his brow furrowed. "Freakin'...! What am I so melancholy for? It's not like he died. What's with this tradition anyway? Throwing your kit into the deep end without a life vest? Rgh!"

    Ozzie's head dropped into his paws and he held it there on the desk, trying to calm his swirling thoughts. Was this really a Rodbit tradition, or some sort of test to see if the black rabbit would buckle? Or, was it just his dad being lazy? That was also an option.

    "Quit your whining, Ozzie," he told himself, "let's just do this thing, huh?"

    He opened a word processing program, fiddling with the font and lettering for the sign he was going to print up to put in the window.

    "Help wanted?" He asked himself. "More like 'help needed'." He paused, his finger hovering over the mouse as he was about to click print. "No, you know what?" He typed "MECHANICS WANTED, INQUIRE WITHIN" into the program, and hit print.

    Ozzie reclined back in the chair, folding his arms as the printer whirred into life. While he waited for the page to be printed, he reflected on his father's words.

    "It was all started by a rabbit, huh?" Ozzie said to himself. "Well, hopefully it won't all be ended by one, too."

Chapter Text

    Ozzie slumped in the chair in his office after a third consecutive day of failed interviews. He'd talked to all kinds of animals looking to work for him, but they lacked the skill or available hours to be of much use to the black rabbit.

    "Am I bein' too picky? That's what it is, right?" Ozzie said, rather fond of talking to himself. He rubbed his fingers on his forehead and stared down at the resumés that he had been given that day. "What'd dad do if he was here?"

    With a frustrated grunt, Ozzie grabbed the first resumé on his desk and balled it up tightly, having no intention of looking at that one again. He tossed it at his trash can, and barely missed.

    "Ugh, course, I know what he's actually doing now," Ozzie rolled his eyes. "Probably watching some pro pawball, if I know him. Okay, take it easy, Ozzie. Next interview, we gotta give the guy a chance. No flippin' out on 'em, just... give it a try."

    The next day, the first interview was a very friendly, lanky and tall coyote wearing an orange long-sleeved shirt and black vest. He also had comfy-looking blue pants on. Ozzie looked up as the coyote entered his office.

    "Howdy!" Greeted the coyote, shaking Ozzie's hand in a pleasant manner over his desk.

    "How are ya doin' there, Mr. ...Goof?" Ozzie blinked, looking at his resumé. "Is that right?"

    "Ahuh!" The coyote nodded. "George Goof, at your service. Muh friends call me Goofy!"

    "I'm sure they do... so, it says you're from Deerbrooke County," Ozzie looked over the coyote's resumé.

    "Ahyuck, that's right! Born n' raised in Podunk!" George declared proudly. His voice sure sounded it.

    "So what sort of experience do you have with automobiles, then?" Ozzie asked, tapping a pen on the desk impatiently before he realized what he was doing and stopped.

    "Oh, plenty!" George swiped his paw through the air in a pleasant way. "Was always fixin' all of my friends jalopies for as long as I could hold a wrench."

    "Huh, good, that's good," Ozzie's brow furrowed, and a smile threatened to form.

    "If I may, Mr. Rodbit," George handed him another small slip of paper, "I have a sort of edutational video series online, if you'd like to take a look."

    "Sure thing, let's see here," Ozzie brought up the web browser on his computer, and input the address. It was a series of videos that all started with "How to..." starring the coyote. "Uh, let's go with 'how to fix a car' then?"

    "Ahyuck, that's muh favorite one!" George craned his head over to try to look at the screen. Ozzie was captivated, briefly. Then, the video turned into some sort of slapstick routine where half of it was about some tenuous auto repair and the other half just seemed to be George hurting himself. "Y'see, it combines comic relief with education! Got several hundred thousand hits on each video, hmhm. Makes a bit of pocket change for me."

    "Uh, Mr. Goof, don't mean to be rude," Ozzie's eyes narrowed, wincing, "but I don't think I can hire you with these videos out online. If anyone saw this and you workin' here they'd think The Lucky Rodbit is a lawsuit waitin' to happen."

    "Aw, shucks," George's mouth twisted a bit, his ears flattening. "Well, that's all right. Figured I'd give it a try." George stood up and dusted his pants off.

    "Listen, uh," Ozzie's eyes turned up in a bit of discomfort, "I'll call you if anything changes, okay?"

    "Okay," George smiled pleasantly and offered his paw to Ozzie, who shook it. George brought out his other paw and shook Ozzie's with both hands. "You have yourself a pleasant day, Mr. Rodbit, okay? Thank yuh for your time."

    "Oh, thank you, Mr. Goof," Ozzie said vacantly, as his arm was shook vigorously. George gave a polite nod and walked out of his office. Ozzie was left holding his hand in the air with a bewildered expression. Then, Ozzie's face turned angry, his fist balled, and he slammed it down into the desk. He looked at George's resumé, paused to consider, then filed it away in a cabinet and slammed the cabinet shut. "What's wrong with me!? That guy was at least a hundred times nicer than I could ever be. He'd've been great for customer relations!"

    Ozzie flung himself back into his chair and groaned. "Rats! Ozzie, you're a scared sap! You're scared of anything happenin' to this stupid building, and tarnishin' the Rodbit name! You're just gonna sit here in this chair, paralyzed, until you run out of freakin' money! You don't trust anyone who could possibly screw up, which means you don't trust anyone, least of all yourself! You could use a little help, here!" Ozzie twirled in his chair, his teeth grit. He held out his hands to stop himself on his desk. "Okay okay okay, what did dad say? Start small, and work your way up. Well, first I gotta get started at all."

    Directing his web browser to his email, Ozzie pored over some of the applications that had been sent in that way. "Hmm... no... no..." Then, one caught Ozzie's eye. "Huh. Start small. ...Maybe I can get a 'little' help..."

    The following day, Ozzie heard a tiny knock at the door to his office.

    "Come in, you're out!" Ozzie quipped, looking over some papers. When the door cracked open after a short time, he did a double take as he saw a sheet of paper walk into his office and towards his desk. Getting up, Ozzie went over and picked up the paper from the mammal carrying it. It was a cream-colored mouse with blue eyes. She also had a large puffy golden hairstyle; hair being rather rare among mammals, much less so much of it. She was also wearing a dark purple female business suit. Oswald gave a small scoff. "Well, hello there. Just lettin' you know, I'm not currently hirin' a secretary."

    "Oh, no sir," the mouse's pleasant, almost gentle voice came out. "I am indeed here to apply to be a mechanic. I just figured I might as well dress to impress."

    "Noted! Uh, well, would you like to take a seat at my... desk?" Ozzie offered his hand to help left the mouse up, but she scampered up the side of his desk herself and stood politely at the far end with her hands clasped in front of her. Ozzie shrugged and sat back down at his desk.

    "My name is Gail Hatchetwrench," she said politely.

    "The name's Ozzie Rodbit," Ozzie offered a paw to her and she placed both hands in it, and he was surprised when she was actually able to shake it once. "Right, then! Let's see. I appreciate you printing me out a rabbit-sized version of your resumé, but I do have a magnifying glass." Ozzie chuckled.

    "I figured it was best to be as safe and professional as possible," Gail said cheerfully, getting onto her tip-toes before dropping back down.

    "Safety is good, we're big on safety here, that's one of the keys," Ozzie nodded, shaking his finger. "Specially if we were to hire a mouse, since youse are so small... so, you're from Little Rodentia. No real surprise there. What are you doing in the larger area of Zootopia?"

    "Little Rodentia has been awash in crime recently," Gail's smile faded. "I don't really feel safe there anymore."

    "Really?" Ozzie glanced down at her. "You do know there's crime where the big mammals live too, right? That and in Little Rodentia you don't have to worry about bein' stepped on."

    "Mice don't get stepped on as much as you'd think they do," Gail explained, "we have great situational awareness and can scurry like no other mammal. What we can't do is stop being vicious to each other, some of us, anyway. The LRPD is overwhelmed with the amount of crime that goes on, so much so that some crimes slip through the cracks and have to be picked up by private investigators."

    "Huh!" Ozzie sat back. "Little Rodentia sounds like an interesting place."

    "I actually applied for a position to be a PI," Gail shrugged. "But they said that I didn't have the skills, and that they didn't need a gadgeteering genius."

    "Gadgeteer, huh?" Ozzie repeated.

    "Oh, I love to fashion gadgets out of anything I can get my paws on," Gail smiled. "Sometimes you have to improvise when you're dealing with small vehicles and the like."

    "Someone your size would definitely be helpful for rodent vehicles," Ozzie grinned contemplatively, stroking his chin, "there are plenty of those in Zootopia. And, I suppose you could get at hard-to-reach areas in larger cars, too."

    "Yes sir!" Gail smiled, starting to get a bit excited.

    "Oh, don't call me 'sir'," Ozzie shook his head. He almost had made the decision to hire her already. "We're all gonna be on a first-name basis here at The Lucky Rodbit. You can call me Ozzie, if I can call you Gail."

    "Deal!" Gail's smile grew brighter. "Ooh, I love working on cars! It's so fun to try to figure out what's wrong with them and fix it!"

    Ozzie shut his eyes and laughed a snickering laugh, but then stopped and opened one eye. "You should lose the hair, though."

    "My hair!?" Gail touched her hair defensively. "I-if you think it's a safety hazard, I can always put it up and tie something around it to keep it in place!"

    "Well," Ozzie frowned, folding his hands on the desk. "What if I told you it was between the hair and the job?"

    Gail's jaw dropped slightly, but then her brow furrowed and she pursed her lips. "Then I'd have to bid you goodbye, 'sir'." Gail turned around to leave, looking over her shoulder. "I won't have some brutish bunny bully me with his unreasonable requests to change my personal appearance when I've offered an amenable solution."

    "It's 'rabbit'! I'm a... a brutish 'rabbit'," Ozzie winced, feeling like another opportunity was quickly fading away due to his conservative nature. "H-hey let's just forget about the hair thing. You're right, you can tie it up or whatever. I was just, uh, testin' you! That's it. To see if you could stand up to a mean ol' rabbit like myself!" Ozzie gave a loud chuckle that was clearly uneasy. "You gotta be able to stand up for yourself in this world!"

    "Oh, you uh... you are a strange one, sir," Gail cocked an eyebrow, turning around to face him again.

    "One more thing, though," Ozzie said, retrieving a standard rabbit-sized wrench from his desk, tossing it in front of her where it clattered onto the desk. "Can you lift this?" Gail clapped her hands and rubbed them and seemingly effortlessly hoisted the wrench up and behind her shoulders, holding it there. Oswald tried to keep his jaw from opening and failed. "Woah... no way!"

    Gail smirked in satisfaction. "We rodents are much stronger than we look."

    "Well, I'm glad," Ozzie grinned, his devilish look returning, "because you'll probably have to deal with rabbit-sized tools or fashion your own gadgets until I can afford to order a set of rodent-sized ones."

    "S-so am I hired...?" Gail leaned her head in hopefully.

    "Yeah, consider yourself hired, Gail," Ozzie nodded.

    "Golly!" Gail happily swung the wrench over her head, twirled it, and set it down, then jumped up a few times happily. "That's great! I won't let you down, sir."

    "Well, you will if you keep calling me 'sir'," Ozzie retorted.

    "Ah, r-right. When would you like me to come in?" Gail smiled brightly.

    "Monday, next week," Ozzie pointed at her. "Oh, and wear somethin' you don't mind gettin' dirty, would you?"

    "Of course!" Gail smiled, offering the same handshake she did before, and made her way out of his office, leaping from his desk to the chair to the floor and scurrying out. "Goodbye, Ozzie!" She waved and called over her shoulder.

    "Gettin' anywhere must be such an adventure for a mouse," Ozzie shook his head once she was gone. "And I thought I was small. So. That's one down. Hopefully she'll do." Ozzie bit on his knuckles, then shook his head and let his fist softly punch himself in the face. "No. Bad rabbit. She'll do fine. Let's move on to the next resumé."

    Ozzie looked at the next one and made a face, balling up the paper and throwing it over his shoulder.

    "Okay, the next one..."

Chapter Text

    Ozzie pulled a blue handkerchief from his overalls and wiped his brow. He was working on his girlfriend's car, a cute little pink sports car. His ear twitched as he heard the sound of a clearly ailing vehicle pulling up right next to the garage, as if begging to be worked on.

    "The heck?" Ozzie turned around and caught sight of a rusted brown pickup truck that was equipped to be a tow truck. He blinked as its driver, a pig with a fairly large snout, peeked his head out of the window.

    "Ah, must be my 'lucky' day," the pig grinned, looking at the sign of the establishment. His voice was easy-sounding, almost as if he was in a slight yawn. "You're Ozzie Rodbit, right?"

    "I am," Ozzie narrowed his eyes. "Somethin' wrong with your truck?"

    The pig laughed. "What isn't wrong with this old guy? Eh, he gets me from place to place. Other cars too, if I'm lucky."

    "Well, I still ain't open," Ozzie jerked his thumb towards the front door, which had a "CLOSED" sign hanging right next to the "MECHANICS WANTED, INQUIRE WITHIN" sign he'd previously hung. "So I'm afraid I can't take any new clients yet."

    "Ah, you looked open to me," the pig jerked his head towards the sports car.

    "Just doin' some work for a friend," Ozzie said defensively, wondering if the pig was a part of some sort of rival repair service.

    The pig shut down his truck and got out, pulling a folded-up piece of paper from his pocket. "I wasn't actually here about gettin' the old guy fixed, but about that mechanic position."

    "Oh yeah?" Ozzie scratched his head, then took the paper. It was a resumé. The paper was wrinkled and it appeared to have a stain from a soda cup on it. The black rabbit looked incredulously up at the pig, who had a shirt with a "Pizza Planet" logo on it, some jean shorts, and a red and white cap that didn't really match. The pig had a sort of bored, but pleasant expression. "So you're... uh, Hammond Row... uh, row... how do I say this?"

    "Roachenberger," the pig nodded. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance!"

    "Likewise, I think," Ozzie smirked. "You wanna step into my office?" Ozzie started to head for the garage.

    "Nah, we can do the interview out here if it's all the same to you," Hammond put his hands in his pockets. "I don't really go for the formalities."

    "Oh, you don't, huh?" Ozzie raised an eyebrow. The pig had an air of easygoing audacity that almost made Ozzie nervous, as if he was going to suddenly pull a fast one on the black rabbit. "Well, let's see here. You're from Lassetown? I've only barely heard of it."

    "Ah, Lassetown is great," Hammond shifted his weight back and forth on his feet. "Lots of fun places to go. Big aquarium, good racing scene."

    "You did a few years at an auto shop there, huh?" Ozzie sucked his teeth. "Why'd you leave?"

    "Eh, got bored," Hammond grinned. "Heard things were happening in Zootopia."

    Ozzie's brow furrowed. "Well, I ain't hirin' a pig who could just 'get bored'." Nevertheless, Ozzie continued to read. "Says you've worked on everything from fire trucks to snowmobiles."

    "Yeah, but like I said, it got tiresome," Hammond folded his hands behind his head. "You make one miracle happen, pretty soon they want you to do another. Then, you're into everything."

    "So, great work ethic, I guess we can check that one off," Ozzie gave a dark smirk.

    "Heh!" Hammond grinned down at the rabbit. "You're funny. Wait till you see me in action, though."

    A skeptical look grew across Ozzies face, then he jerked his head over to his girlfriend's car. "Okay then, wise guy, let's see if you can tell me what's wrong with this car."

    "Child's play," Hammond grinned, walking over with Ozzie. The black rabbit turned the key in the ignition and the car rumbled to life. To the untrained ear, nothing sounded amiss. "That's a vacuum leak."

    "Very good," Ozzie grinned. Hammond held a finger up and started snorting at the air near the car.

    "And... a coolant leak," Hammond snorted.

    "Huh, you can smell dat?" Ozzie looked a little impressed, sniffing at the air himself. "Not bad, not bad." He shut down the engine.

    "What, you think a schnoz like this is just for show?" Hammond chuckled. "So, am I hired or not?"

    "I'm thinkin' about it," Ozzie folded his arms, tapping his foot. "Jeez, you're like the polar opposite of the last gal I interviewed."

    "Well I mean, I got a bunch of other places I could try," Hammond shrugged. "Zootopia's a big place."

    "Woah, Mister Pig," Ozzie got a testy look. "You trying to bully me into hiring you? You're the one that needs the job, right?"

    "I could use one, but I'm not in a rush," Hammond shrugged, starting to head for his tow truck. Ozzie's teeth showed. He felt like he was over a barrel. How was it that he felt like both of the prospective hirees he was interviewing had HIM over a barrel?

    "So, uh, did you come to me first?" Ozzie smirked. "It's cause of the Rodbit name, right?"

    "You were the closest to my apartment," Hammond shrugged. "I've never really heard of the name before, I just looked you up."

    "Oh for...!" Ozzie slapped his face and ran it slowly down until his paw fell off of it. "Well listen here, Hammond, the Rodbit family has been in car repair for as long as there's been cars! It's true we ain't exactly a household name, but how'd you like to help me make it one, huh?"

    Hammond shrugged. "Eh, sure, why not?"

    Ozzie returned a nervous chuckle and pointed at him. "Drive! I like that." He swallowed his nerves and tried to regain control. "Listen porcine, I'll give you a week, and if I ain't impressed-"

    "I'll be on my way," Hammond gave a light smirk. "Seems fair."

    "Heh!" Ozzie offered his hand. "Well, Hammond, we'll see if letting you on my team'll be a good idea, or a 'pig' mistake."

    "Wow, that's hilarious," Hammond's voice was completely blank. He shook Ozzie's hand anyway. "See ya bright and early on Monday, bunny?"

    "Yeah, but it's 'rabbit', not bunny," Ozzie shook his finger in the air near his head. Hammond shrugged and nodded, starting his truck. It took a few attempts. "And for cryin' out loud, we gotta fix that thing."

    "Yeah, maybe eventually," Hammond backed out of the driveway to the garage and was gone.

    That evening, Ozzie sat down to a hearty salad with his father at dinner. Ozzie crunched the veggies in silence. He made a face at the taste.

    "Couldja pass the balsamic, dad?" Ozzie held out his paw as his father complied. Walter gave a smile.

    "How goes the hiring process, Oswald?" Walter asked warmly.

    "Well, I got two on the line," Ozzie sighed, pouring some salad dressing onto his meal. "They're uh... they're characters, all right."

    "Oh, well, that's good!" Walter balled up a fist and pumped it across his body. "Strong personalities will make strong bonds."

    "Yeah well, personalities aren't gonna fix cars, dad," Ozzie rolled his eyes.

    "I think a three-member crew is a fine base," Walter smiled. "Just get to know them, do some team-building stuff. Chat them up! Who've you got?"

    "I have a slightly-attractive gadgeteer mouse who can lift a wrench twice her size," Ozzie pointed out one finger. "And I have a devil-may-care pig who seems good at diagnosing car problems."

    "A mousie and a piggie?" Walter said in a jovial, warm voice. "That sounds like a fun combo! I'd love to meet them!"

    "Dad, what is this?" Ozzie pointed his fork between him and his father. "Like you said, I'm twenty-seven. What's with the 'talkin' to kits' voice?"

    "Just messing with you, my boy," Walter laughed heartily.

    "Well, let's see if we can last a week or two and not burn the place to the ground," Ozzie muttered.

    "Luckily for you, the fire department is nearby," Walter smiled brightly.

    "Very funny," Ozzie turned his head away slightly, shaking it.

    That night, Ozzie took a shower, dried his fur, and got ready for bed. He leaped onto the bed on his back, staring at the ceiling.

    "Here goes nothing," Ozzie grinned. "Just me, a mouse, and a pig versus the automobiles of Zootopia. Hope I've got what it takes. Or maybe I'm makin' a 'pig' 'mouse-stake'." Ozzie let loose a long snicker, rolling over and tucking into bed. "Boy, I crack me up."

    He didn't sleep too well that night.

Chapter Text

    "Golly," Gail said, sitting down on the counter inside the waiting area, wearing a pair of overalls and a shirt. "Sure is dull today. Are we gonna get another customer anytime soon?"

    "We gotta," Ozzie was sitting back in the waiting area's chairs, kicking his feet. "I removed the 'CLOSED' sign, after all. ...We're in the heart of the city, bound to be some cars breakin' down with all the traffic around here. 'Ey, my dad and I worked on Mayor Lionheart's car once, no kiddin'!"

    "Oh yeah, your dad?" Hammond had his paws folded behind the counter. He had a small frown. "Somethin' happen to him?"

    "Yeah, tradition," Ozzie rolled his eyes and sneered. "Apparently when the heir of The Lucky Rodbit comes of age, the elder retires and takes all 'a his staff with him. New kit's gotta hit the ground runnin'."

    "That sounds uh, needlessly risky," Gail winced.

    "Right? But it's worked so far, so until someone screws it up, that's the way it's gonna stay!" Ozzie frowned.

    "So, you don't think you can do it, uh?" Hammond tilted his head, staring at Ozzie.

    "Never said that," Ozzie frowned. "But yeah, some mammal better get in here soon. I can't afford to pay youse two to just stand around."

    "And I can't pay you to fix my tow truck," Hammond shook his head. Gail clasped her paws together and interlaced her fingers. There was a moment of silence. Then, all three of them perked up their ears a bit at the sound of a truck pulling up to the driveway and stopping.

    "Oh, there's someone now!" Gail jumped up and ran to the edge of the counter, trying to look out of the window excitedly.

    "Looks like a delivery truck," Hammond observed. Ozzie launched out of his seat. A kangaroo female headed into the shop with a box.

    "Delivery for Mr. Rodbit?" The kangaroo asked in an Outback Island accent. Ozzie held his hand in the air and nodded, heading over to sign for it. "Just need your autograph here, sir."

    "Don't mind if I do," Ozzie grinned, scribbling on the electronic device with the stylus. "Wish I could say that'd be worth somethin' someday!"

    "Well, unfortunately, this is electronic, so it'd be worth even less," the kangaroo smirked.

    "Nothin' happens to be wrong with your truck, does it?" Hammond wondered.

    "Naw, she's purrin' loik a kitten, and Oi've got many more deliveries to make today," the kangaroo tipped her hat and was off.

    "Darn," Gail's shoulders fell a bit. Ozzie went to go get a box-cutter to carefully open the package.

    "What do we got there?" Hammond said with passing interest.

    "Some mouse-sized tools?" Gail perked up with hope.

    "Not yet, not yet!" Ozzie held up his hands defensively. "That'd set me back much more than I can deal with right now." He shuffled through the box. "What I did get are some uniforms for us three!" Ozzie proudly held up a fairly comfortable-looking blue coverall jumpsuit that had a name patch that read "Ozzie".

    "Oh, neato!" Gail smiled. Her smile faltered slightly when she was handed hers, and Hammond's eyebrow raised when he was given his. The mouse's coveralls were of a purple color, and the pig's were sort of an almost khaki brown. "I uh, can't help but notice they're all different colors."

    "Yeah it was, uh, cheaper this way," Ozzie gave a guilty smile. "Figure they probably just grabbed some spares out of the back, heh..."

    "Well, it looks to be the right size, at least," Gail gave a frown. "I suppose this is why you asked us both for our sizes."

    "Thought I was just bein' rude, huh?" Ozzie's shoulders chucked.

    "The thought had occurred to me," Hammond nodded. Gail stifled a giggle. Ozzie could only smile at Hammond's candor.

    "Well, we better make sure they do, indeed, fit all of us," Ozzie nodded, starting to immediately strip down to his underwear. He stopped when he heard a squeak and looked to see Gail covering her eyes; her ears were hot. Ozzie's ears laid back and he shot a nervous smile to the amused-looking pig. "Oh right, kinda forgot we have a lady-type present." He quickly jumped into his outfit. "Alright, you're safe from the rabbit fur."

    "I'll be using the restroom, if that's okay," Gail shook her head. She took her new outfit, ran off the side of the counter, and held the outfit like a parachute to slow her fall, hit the floor, and made for the restroom. She opened the rodent-sized handle for the door and entered.

    "You always this classy, Ozzie?" Hammond chuckled. Ozzie gave another embarrassed smile, running a hand through his ears. He looked toward the restroom.

    "Do all mice get around like they were some kinda action heroes, or is it just her?" Ozzie jerked his thumb towards the restroom.

    "Couldn't say, I don't know too many mice," Hammond said, changing into his outfit on the spot, too. "Well, mine fits, yours fits." Both of them looked expectantly towards the restroom.

    "Tada!" Gail leapt out and put her hands on her hips, posing proudly. "Gail Hatchetwrench, reporting for duty!"

    "Okay, so they fit!" Ozzie nodded. "That's important." Gail rushed over towards her co-workers.

    "So, they're okay and all, but I can't help but notice that we look like delivery mammals from three rival factions," Gail gave a smile, looking at the three of them.

    Hammond chuckled and looked down at his name patch. "What can Hamm do for you, huh?" He waggled his eyebrows.

    "Uh?" Ozzie looked at Hammond's name patch. "What the frig? I specifically said your name patch should read Hammond, not 'Hamm'!" Ozzie looked quite upset.

    "Eh, who's worried about it?" Hammond shrugged. Gail regarded him with a curious face.

    "I am!" Ozzie held his hands out toward him. "We can't call you Hamm! That's... that's derogatory! Did they spell Gail right?" He peered down at Gail.

    "Surprisingly," Gail smiled, looking at her patch. "It's Gail like Abigail, not like gale force winds." Ozzie turned back to Hammond.

    "Gee, I'm sorry, Hammond. I'll get you another one ordered," Ozzie sucked at his teeth, looking upset.

    "Hey, don't worry about it," Hammond swiped his hand through the air. "Hamm is fine. I got called that all throughout my schooling years. The 'ond' kinda just falls off anyway if you don't say it loudly enough."

    "I refuse to call you that if you don't like it!" Ozzie pointed at him angrily, then shoved his thumb into his own chest. "It's like folks callin' me 'bunny'!"

    "I don't take offense to Hamm, so you can call me that if if you like," Hammond grinned.

    "Why don't you like people calling you bunny?" Gail wondered. "It's not a gender-specific term."

    "Yeah, but 'bunny' is cutesy. It's for the does," Ozzie frowned. "I got called bunny as a little kit. Didn't care for it. So I ain't callin' Hammond 'Hamm' if he was made fun of at school for it."

    "Suit yourself," Hammond shrugged. "You can call me Hamm if you want, Gail." Gail shrugged and nodded.

    "Okay fine, so you're a 'bigger mammal' than me for goin' by your nickname, 'Hamm'," Ozzie rolled his eyes. "But I don't want anyone callin' me 'Oz'. I'm no wizard, and I ain't wonderful, obviously."

    "Aw, you can't piggyback onto a self-burn," Hammond grinned. Gail giggled, and Ozzie gave a loud groan.

    "I feel like the pig-based jokes are gonna blow the lid off this place," Ozzie grumbled. "It's just 'Ozzie'. Besides, Ozzie is a nickname, anyway."

    "For what?" Gail wondered.

    "Oswald," he replied.

    "Huh, never heard that name before in my life," Hammond admitted.

    "Right? It's an old name. At least Ozzie is a bit more recognizable," Ozzie seemed to catch himself while saying this, realizing that could apply to his last name too. He frowned a bit. "So uh, what should I call you then, Gail? Is it short for Abigail? Can we call you Abby?"

    "Nah, it's just Gail. That's what it says on my birth certificate," Gail grinned.

    "Ah come on," Hammond grinned. "We gotta come up with something for you. I've seen some of those neat gadgets you've made to work here while El Cheapo here holds out on your toolkit." Ozzie rolled his eyes, putting his hands on his hips. "Can we call you Gadget?"

    "Gadget?" Gail considered. "Hm, I don't hate it..."

    Ozzie gave a small smile. Maybe they were starting to get along after all. In time, maybe he could call them his team, or even his friends. But they did need some more cars to work on.

    "Oh!" Gail suddenly perked up. "What time is it? Golly, uh, if I don't leave soon, I'll be late for my hair appointment. Er, you don't mind if I leave a few minutes early, do you?"

    "Nah, we're kinda, uh, dead," Ozzie laughed. "Go, Gadget, go!"

    "Thanks! See you guys later!" Gail retrieved her other clothes and fled the shop.

    "Heh!" Hammond shook his head and went back to folding his arms on the counter, looking out after the mouse as she left. "I like it already."

Chapter Text

    "Some for the big guys, some for the middle guys, and some for the small guys," Ozzie said cheerfully, placing some magazines on a multi-tiered rack in the waiting area. The business had been doing better; they actually had a couple of cars in the shop at the time.

    "Who reads magazines anymore?" Hammond asked, checking his mail on his phone before putting it away. "Guarantee you those things were a waste of money."

    "Some people like em!" Ozzie challenged. "Some people like the tactile nature of magazines, and y'know, not havin' to squint at a bright screen all day." He made a mocking, squinting gesture, holding a pretend phone in front of him.

    Hammond laughed heartily. "Wow, you sure you're twenty-seven? You act like an old fogey."

    "So I'm an old-fashioned rabbit, sue me!" Ozzie shrugged, then held up a finger. "Whoa wait, don't got the money for that." Hammond and Ozzie both laughed at this.

    Gail put her hands on her hips near the magazine rack, making a face. "Blech. Why do all of the car magazines have some sort of barely-dressed slinky mammal laying on the car on the cover? All these cheetahs and ferrets..."

    "You know, I do agree with you there," Ozzie pointed at Gail, nodding. "They're covering up the nice-lookin' hoods of those cars!"

    "Wha, is that a joke?" Hammond scoffed. "You know that kinda thing moves magazines, right? I wouldn't have pegged you for a guy who would say no to a little eye candy."

    "How boorish do you think I am?" Ozzie held his arms out to either side. "If you want to see that type of material, there's plenty of other publications for your perusal!"

    Hammond chuckled. "Careful with those five-dollar words, Ozzie. Mind that budget."

    "Very clever," Ozzie said sarcastically, but he did laugh. "Oh, speakin' of the budget..." Gail and Hammond blinked after him as he ran into his office and retrieved a modest-sized box. He set it down near Gail. "Happy birthday, Gadget."

    "It's not my..." Gail trailed off, then her mouth formed a small "o" shape. "Wait!" Tearing into the box, she found a rather nice set of mouse-sized tools, with adjustable, locking heads to work on any size of vehicle she needed. "Guh-golly! Ooh, they're lovely!" Gail had a big smile on her face, and she cooed, running her hands over the smooth metal of the tools as if they were treasure. "Oh yes, come to mousie, you wonderful things..."

    "Huh," was all Hammond could offer at the mouse's reaction.

    "Thank you so much, Ozzie!" Gail rushed over and hugged Ozzie's ankle.

    "Aw, cut it out," Ozzie tried to keep from grinning, shaking his ankle a bit. "You're meltin' my frosty heart." Gail let go and continued marveling over her new tool-set. "Now you be sure to stick with me, huh? Wanna get my money's worth from them. And you!"

    "Of course!" Gail smiled cheerfully, not buying his sudden flip back to his unpleasant facade.

    "So, I got some concerns about the budget, too," Hammond held a finger up.

    "What's that, Hamm?" Ozzie looked over his shoulder at Hammond.

    "The sign out front," Hammond held his hand out toward the front door. "Another light went out. Now it reads 'he luck bit'."

    "Sounds... badly translated," Gail giggled.

    "Can you afford to get it fixed?" Hammond asked.

    "Or replaced?" Gail added.

    "Wait, replaced?" Ozzie blinked. "What do you mean?"

    "Well, Hammond and I were talking a bit about this," Gail fumbled her fingers pensively, looking off to the side.

    "I'll say it, Gail," Hammond chuckled. "To be blunt, the name 'The Lucky Rodbit' sounds like a bar or casino, or maybe both. Somewhere in the Sahara Square. The kind with 'bunnies', if you catch my drift."

    "Wha..." Ozzies brows went up a bit, his jaw dropping. "Well, wh-what do you suggest then?"

    "Hm," Hammond grinned. "Hammond, Ozzie, Gail. HOG Repairs! We'll fix your 'hog', huh?"

    "Oh, yeah, okay," Ozzie shook his head. "Yeah, that'll work, and it just so happens to revolve around you." Hammond chuckled. Ozzie began to look upset. "Besides, I can't drop 'Rodbit' from the name. I can't lose my name! It's my family business!"

    "Isn't it your business now?" Gail questioned. "You're free to make your own decisions, aren't you?"

    "But the name 'Rodbit'," Ozzie sat down on the ground, "it once was like synonymous with car repair. Just about a hundred years, we've been in the business. I can't just break it off like that."

    "Well, a fat lot of business that name has got us so far," Hammond put his hands on his hips. "Think about it. It's not about the Rodbits anymore, it's about you and your business."

    "How about..." Gail considered. "Ozzie's Auto Repair? That way, you still have your name in it." She tried a small smile, approaching the seated rabbit.

    "That's..." Ozzie showed his teeth, "I mean, ain't that a little blunt? It's got no heart or soul, or pizazz!"

    "We're not trying to entertain anyone," Hammond chuckled. "Just trying to fix their cars. I kinda like the name, myself. Though HOG Repairs is good, too."

    "All right," Ozzie shook his head, "we gonna have to pay a graphic designer to get a new logo and sign, huh?" Ozzie seemed a bit resigned.

    "Oh, I know a good graphic designer!" Gail seemed a bit excited. "I'll have her whip us up something."

    "Better hurry," Hammond encouraged, "before we run out of letters on the sign out there."

    A few days later, Gail excitedly burst into the shop, rushing at Ozzie.

    "Hi, hi, hi! Good morning Ozzie, Hamm!" Gail waved, seemingly very rushed. She stopped at Ozzie's ankle, saluting. "Permission to use you as a ladder, sir!"

    "Okay, I'll let 'sir' slide this time because it was part of the act," Ozzie nodded. Gail effortlessly scampered up Ozzie's clothing before standing on his shoulder. "Let's go into your office! The graphic designer is supposed to be emailing you her design any second! I'm so excited!"

    "Yeah, I got that much," Ozzie chuckled, heading with Gail into his office, leaving the door open.

    "I'll mind the shop!" Hammond waved his hand. Ozzie sat down at his desk and Gail leaped off of his shoulder and onto the desk, tucking and rolling, placing both hands on her hips.

    "They put something different in rodent coffee?" Ozzie smirked.

    "C'mon, open it!" Gail pointed at the email. Ozzie complied. He found a simplistic, but eye-catching logo for "Ozzie's Auto Repair", along with monochrome cartoon heads of himself, Gail, and Hammond. He was in the middle of the two, wearing a toothy smirk with his brow furrowed, Gail, to the left, had her eyes closed and had a happy, open-mouthed smile, and Hammond, on the right, had his eyes half lid and an easy grin.

    "Huh, what's this? We look like a bunch of old cartoon characters," Ozzie gave an amused huff.

    "Yes, exactly!" Gail nodded. "Look, I heard what you said about the name having no charm, but what should add charm is US! Look, I'm there all perky and happy because-"

    "You're like that?" Ozzie grinned with his eyes half-lid, balancing his cheek in a paw on the desk.

    "Well, yeah," Gail agreed, "and I had her draw you as sort of-"

    "I look kind of evil, actually," Ozzie tried imitating the face. "Pretty dark, huh?"

    "Well, you kinda like- it's like you're saying 'grr! I'm gonna fix the heck out of your car!" Gail explained. "And Hamm, he's like-"

    "Looks like he just doesn't care," Ozzie laughed.

    "Guilty as charged!" Hammond's voice called from the other room.

    "Well, it's supposed to project confidence!" Gail suggested. "So, you don't hate it, do you?"

    "No no, I actually kinda like it," Ozzie grinned, putting both hands under his chin and gazing at the logo. "I suppose our faces have enough personality to carry in the customers if my glorious name won't." He turned his gaze to Gail, smirking darkly. "It better, anyway."

    "It will!" Gail nodded.

    "Okay, we'll do it," Ozzie nodded. "Ozzie's Auto Repair. We'll get the sign made, throw those little cartoons up in a few places, and we'll be good. Phew, Dad's gonna have a fit when he see's I dropped 'Rodbit' from the name."

    "But it isn't his call anymore, it's yours," Gail's brow furrowed.

    "Let's hope I'm not calling a wrong number," Ozzie quipped.

    "Oh, you're so negative, Ozzie!" Gail held her paws out palm up. "You've got the skills to make this work. I've seen you wield your own tools like they were parts of your body! We can do this! We've got the location, the talent, and we're about to get a good name and logo!"

    "Eh, you're all right, Gadget," Ozzie grinned, gently offering his fist to her. She fist-bumped him with both fists. He placed his other hand around his mouth. "You too, Hamm!"

    "Thanks, Ozzie! Love you too!" Hammond called out again with the same droll voice.

    Ozzie pursed his lips, his eyelids falling halfway again. Gail stifled a laugh with a paw up to her mouth. It was the start of an interesting professional relationship between the three.

Chapter Text

    "Lunch time!" Hammond slapped his hands together and rubbed them, revealing his lunch pail and pulling a long sub from it, which looked objectively quite well crafted. It looked like it had lettuce, tomato, and cheese on it, at least. He started eating behind the counter.

    "Lunch... oh jeepers," Gail balled her hands into fists and shut her eyes. "I forgot my lunch again. I am such a scatterbrain sometimes." She tapped her forehead with one of her fists.

    "'Sometimes'?" Hammond teased. He tapped the counter. "C'mon up here, Gadget."

    Hammond heard a slight clack, and a little claw appeared at the edge of the counter, gripping it. With a zipping sound, it retracted smoothly and swiftly, sending Gail into the air several inches above the counter, where she performed a front-flip and landed on one knee.

    "Uh..." Hammond blinked. "Okay, I'm starting to agree with Ozzie here. Are you sure you aren't some kind of vigilante super-mouse?"

    "Oh, that's nice of you to say, but no, just a gadgeteering geek," Gail wiggled the gun she had used to ascend. "Made this little air-powered grappling pistol myself."

    "I don't doubt it!" Hammond chuckled. "Well, anyway, what I'm about to offer is a lot less impressive." He set his lunch down, washed his hands again in the garage, then tore off a piece of his napkin and placed it in front of her. Then, he tore off bits of each ingredient in his sandwich, plus an extra bit of bread, and placed them on the napkin meticulously in front of her. "There you go. It may not be the full sandwich experience, but it oughta keep you doin' those action moves."

    "Golly, that's so kind of you!" Gail smiled brightly, trying to mash the ingredients together into a sandwich. It didn't work so well, so she just ate them separately. Hammond chuckled a bit.

    "Given that it looks like that sandwich could feed me as well, it's the absolute least he could do," Ozzie smirked, heading out of his office. "Good news, everyone, we're finally in the black! ...Barely! That means you two have steady jobs, on account of I like you and all, and I don't have to feel like a failure!" He proudly jabbed himself in the chest with his thumb.

    "Wow, that's great!" Gail smiled. She was happy to have a steady job, herself.

    "All right!" Hammond grinned, eating more of his sandwich. He found the rabbit and mouse entertaining, so he wouldn't have to get bored, quit, and find another area of work.

    A vehicle pulled up to the garage. It was a rather long, white limo, and looked like it would only barely fit into the garage.

    "Okay, you two stay here and enjoy your lunch," Ozzie swiped his paw at them. "I'll go see what's up with this limo." Ozzie headed outside to greet the driver, but flinched a bit when he saw him. It was a black jaguar with green eyes and a fairly serious, if slightly kind look. He had nasty gashes over one of his eyes. "Uh, hello sir. Ozzie Rodbit. What can I do for you?"

    "Hello, I am Renato Manchas," The jaguar greeted with a smooth, muted voice. "I was wondering, it seems like there is a sound coming from the limo. Could you take a look at it?"

    "Mm, this is one of those fridge-type limos from Tundra Town, huh?" Ozzie smirked. "Okay, turn the engine back on." Renato complied, and Ozzie leaned his ears in to listen. "Ooh, that ain't good. Sounds like you got a rod knock. That could spell catastrophic engine damage if left unchecked, and ya don't want that!" Ozzie chuckled, and Renato smiled slightly. "Might take awhile to fix though."

    "Ah, time is not critical," Renato nodded. "Just that the job is done." Ozzie looked into the back of the limo and saw that the back seat had been scratched up in many places.

    "Uhh... do you want us to replace your back seat too? Looks a bit, how shall I say, eviscerated," Ozzie chuckled.

    "Yes, that would likely be for the best," Renato nodded.

    "That'll add to your total a good bit," Ozzie narrowed his eyes, smirking and pointing at the large cat.

    "Money is also no object," Renato shook his head. A black car pulled up and two polar bears looked out of it and motioned to him. "Ah, that is my drive back. Take care of yourself."

    "Huh!" Ozzie grinned, getting into the limo to move it back into the garage. "Well that wasn't suspicious at all." Hammond and Gail made their way into the garage, and looked at the limo.

    "Wow, what a ride!" Gail grinned.

    "Whoa, what happened back here?" Hammond narrowed his eyes, looking into the back seat. "Looks like someone set the frisky dial to eleven."

    "What? Let me see," Gail motioned to Hammond, who offered his hand to lift her to look through the window. "Criminy, what a mess!" She gasped a little at the extent of the damage.

    "It's got a rod knock, and we'll have to order a new back seat," Ozzie nodded.

    "Um, I don't feel right about this," Gail narrowed her eyes. "This looks like, uh... well it looks like something bad went down in this limo."

    "Naw, it's probably like Hamm said," Ozzie shrugged and shook his head. "Some kinky little clawed animals goin' at it."

    "But... shouldn't we call the police?" Gail asked. "We could be covering up-" Ozzie held up a finger and shook it, giving Gail pause, then Ozzie beckoned them both into the waiting area. Gail remained in Hammond's hand, and Ozzie shut the door behind them. "Ozzie, what's the problem?"

    "It's not like the limo can hear us," Hammond chuckled.

    "Listen, you two," Ozzie started. "The character that dropped off the limo was shady as all get out, and he had scars over one of his eyes." Gail gasped and Hammond looked concerned. "This ain't no ordinary guy's limo, that's for sure."

    "All the more reason to call the police, then!" Gail exclaimed worriedly.

    "We should stay neutral, and keep the police out of this," Ozzie shook his head. "Our only enemies are car problems. What the people do with their cars is none of our business."

    "What!?" Gail's jaw dropped and she looked disgusted. "How can you say that?"

    "He kinda... has a point, I guess," Hammond said cautiously. "If you're a waiter, you never know if the person you're serving could be a harbinger of world peace or the next Bellwether, so it'd be useless to question your own morality at every turn. 'Could they possibly be evil'? 'Would it feel right if I served them'? It'd get exhausting!"

    "But that's different!" Gail shook her head, gesturing to the garage. "We know something wrong went on with this limo. No doubt about it!"
    
    Ozzie closed his eyes. "I took you guys out here because I don't know if the car is bugged or has cameras on it. If it belongs to some real bad guys, it might. And what if we let the cops know, what then?"

    "You don't think the police can take care of the criminals?" Gail wondered.

    "No, what I'm worried about is the bad guys taking care of us," Ozzie admitted. "Right now, it's just us three. We're just a tiny operation that's got a good piece of real estate. And if we get on any of the real bad guy's bad side, well." Ozzie pursed his lips and frowned. "Well, it'd be curtains for us."

    "You think so...?" Gail put her hand to her chest worriedly.

    "Wow, you're the most paranoid little rabbit I've ever heard of," Hammond chuckled. "But I gotta admit, you make a lot of sense. Maybe we should just fix the problems and get that bad juju out of our garage."

    "That's what I'm sayin'," Ozzie pointed at Hammond and nodded seriously. He looked at Gail. "Look Gadget, if it's gonna hurt your conscience I won't make you work on the limo. But it got dumped on us, so we gotta get rid of it."

    "All right," Gail looked a bit crestfallen. "Well, maybe I can mind the shop while you two work on it, then."

    "There we go, that's a mouse," Ozzie grinned. "C'mon, Hamm, let's take care of this thing."

    "So!" Hammond approached the black, unmarked car in the driveway of Ozzie's Auto Repair. "Misters Biggins and Woolard? What seems to be the problem?"

    "Well, we're not exactly sure," Biggins, a hippo, said. Woolard, a sheep, nodded rapidly, sitting in the passenger seat of the car. "We were hoping you could tell us." Hammond couldn't hear or smell anything wrong at a glance.

    "How long's the problem been going on?" Hammond asked the sheep. The sheep glanced over to the hippo.

    "Oh, sorry, Woolard doesn't talk," Biggins shrugged. "You mind if we use the facilities while you check out the car?"

    "Knock yourselves out," Hammond nodded, popping the hood of the vehicle to look at it.

    Biggins rushed into the shop, then headed swiftly toward the garage, opening the door. He was following by Woolard.

    "What!?" Gail perked up in surprise at the expedience of the two. "You can't go in there!"

    Biggins pulled out a black electronic device from his pocket and pressed a button. "Signal jammer's online. Get the garage doors." Woolard nodded and hit the controls for them, and the garage doors began to lower.

    "Hey, whats the big idea!?" Ozzie shouted, looking up from the limo. "Who are these guys?" Gail worriedly rushed in with her phone, ready to call the police. She noticed, in panic, that she had no signal.

    "Step away from the limo, sir," Biggins cautioned. When the doors were shut, he retrieved a badge. "Officer Higgins, ZPD." Ozzie and Gail's mouths both dropped open as the sheep's body split open. It was a costume, and when it opened a wolf popped out.

    "Officer Wolford," the wolf chuckled. "I can't believe anybody falls for that costume." He flashed his badge as well.

    "What's the ZPD doing here!?" Ozzie asked the two.

    "Sir, we have reason to believe this limo was involved in a crime, so please just keep your distance until we investigate it," Higgins held out his hand in caution.

    "Yo Higgins, this is 'that' limo," Wolford pointed at the plate. Higgins came over to confirm.

    "29 THD 03, sure is," Higgins nodded, marking down some notes. Wolford opened the back door and looked at the scratch marks. He sniffed around. "You smell anything?"

    "Faintly," Wolford crouched down and sniffed. "Yup, some of their fur is still in here. It's Wilde and Hopps."

    "Okay, okay," Higgins rolled his eyes and groaned, adjusting his mustache which Ozzie saw was fake. "Looks like nothing's changed on this, then. Sorry for the disturbance folks, this limo is part of a closed case. You're free to continue working on it."

    "Uh, thanks?" Ozzie scratched his head.

    "What gives?" Hammond's voice came from the shop as he stomped over to open the door. "There wasn't a thing wrong with that hippo's car and they just vanished- holy pigs in a blanket what is going on in here!?" Hammond pointed to the discarded costume. "What is that!?"

    "Oh, just my cover," Wolford grinned, putting his costume back on. His voice came muffled from the costume. "Good day, lady and gentlemen." Ozzie blankly followed them, followed by Hammond and Gail. The three stayed in the guest waiting area as the undercover officers drove away in their perfectly fine car.

    "So, someone called the police after all, huh?" Hammond said. Ozzie looked at him. "Wasn't me. I'm not about to give anyone a reason to whack me." Hammond looked at Gail, who gasped.

    "It... it wasn't me!" Gail placed both of her hands on her chest, shaking her head. Ozzie looked at her. "Please, I swear. I don't want anyone to get in trouble! I didn't do it!"

    "Oh, I know," Ozzie smirked darkly, giving a long snicker. "Cause I did it."

    "What!?" Gail sputtered. "But after that long speech about...?" Hammond blinked in confusion.

    "I know, I know," Ozzie shook his head, smirking. "But I think some mouse is a little angel sittin' on my shoulder, tellin' me to do what's right, and there ain't no devil mouse on the other one."

    "Ozzie," Gail gave a small smile. "Come on. I agree that getting the police involved was probably risky."

    "There's risk in doin' anything, Gail," Ozzie sighed. "I gave 'em an anonymous tip, told 'em to come undercover. Thought the vehicle might be part of the mob's fleet and that it might be bugged."

    "Well look at you!" Hamm chuckled Ozzie on the shoulder. "Looks like you're a good guy after all. Who would have guessed that? Certainly not me!"

    "I had my suspicions," Gail gave a warm smile, her eyes closing halfway.

    "Don't let it get out, you two," Ozzie grinned. "It'd ruin my reputation."

Chapter Text

    "Aright, Gail, I think that should do it for now," Ozzie said, looking up from the engine of a beat-up van he was working on, which he had to use a stepladder to get up to. "Ya mind turning the engine on to see if this dang thing starts?"

    "Sure thing, boss!" Gail saluted and started climbing up grooves in the driver's side door to the van, which did not match the rest of the van's paint job; it looked like it had been completely replaced. "Hup!" Gail launched herself into the driver's seat and then jumped towards the key and used her weight to turn it.

    As the engine gasped to life, extremely loud rap music started blaring from the speakers of the van, and Gail squeaked in surprise at the din and recoiled off the key, into the cup holder.

    "Agh! Freakin'!" Ozzie's ears flattened, then he jumped off the stepladder and bounced to hang from the driver's side open window. "You okay, Gadget?"

    "Yeah, never better!" Gail grinned from her awkward seated position in the cup holder, waving a hand. She cringed and reached for the volume knob, pressing hard to silence the noise.

    "That fennec, I swear!" Ozzie shook his head, then dropped down and went to go stare at the engine again. "Every time! I tell him to turn the music down before he hands over his stupid van, but no...!"

    "I really should have expected it by now, and put some earplugs in," Gail giggled, standing up in the cup holder. "How's she doing?"

    "She'll live, for now," Ozzie rolled his eyes. "Shut 'er down, I guess."

    "Roger!" Gail jumped for the key again, twisted it, then dropped to the floor of the van. "You really feel like fixing more of her problems, huh?" She called out loudly so her voice would reach Ozzie.

    "Yeah, but that cheapskate doesn't wanna pay for the damage," Ozzie grumbled, slamming the hood of the van. "Just enough to keep her movin'... well, he should know by doin' that he's endin' up spending more money on this dang thing than if he were to just bite the bullet and have me fix the whole van!" Ozzie kicked one of the tires and then cringed, expecting it to explode. "As it is he's overdue for a tire change!"

    "Well, the customer's always right, huh?" Gail chuckled, sitting on the window opening of the car.

    "More like the customer's always an idiot," Ozzie shook his head.

    "Oh well, out of it we get a steady customer and earn more money over time," Gail shrugged easily.

    "Ah jeez, I'm not corruptin' you to the dark side or anything, am I?" Ozzie smirked. "I thought I was supposed to be the unscrupulous one."

    "We're not doing anything wrong if we just do what the customer asks," Gail sang in a playful voice, rolling her eyes.

    "I guess you're... right," Ozzie's voice trailed off as he saw a pink sports car pull into the garage. His voice become a harsh whisper. "Gadget, hide!" Without a second thought, Gail dropped back into the driver's seat of the van, staying there. The car stopped, and a sand cat, a bit shorter than Ozzie, jumped out. She had warm, tan fur, and a few bands of black around her arms and tail. She also had deep brown eyes, a quaint but cute looking pinkish dress, and a matching, old-fashioned looking hat with some hydrangea flower decorations of various colors peeking out from their stems.  

    "Ozzie!" The sand cat called out excitedly.

    "Uh, hey Ortensia," Ozzie smiled nervously. "Uh, maybe we could dispense with the glomping unless you wanna take another shower today- urk!" Ortensia launched straight at him to hug him, purring and nuzzling him a bit.

    "Oh, I don't mind!" Ortensia said happily. "I was heading home anyway." Ozzie winced at her as after the hug she ended up rather grimy, like he was. "Guess what it's time for!?"

    "Uh, did I forget our anniversary of us becoming an item again?" Ozzie cringed.

    "No, silly, my baby needs another oil change!" Ortensia pointed at her car. "And you know I'd only get my lucky rabbit to do it for me!" Her voice was a bit musical as she said this.

    "Okay, um, listen," Ozzie said pensively. "I gotta have you pay for it this time, okay? I got some co-workers to pay now, so..."

    "Oh really?" Ortensia gasped. "Where are they? I gotta meet them!" She clapped twice happily.

    "Uh, they're kinda busy right now, so-" Ozzie started, and at that moment, Hammond entered the garage. "...Shoulda seen that one comin'."

    "Hey Ozzie, pink car just pulled up without even stopping in with us," Hammond said. "Oh, who's the smudged up cat?" Hammond grinned.

    "Hi! I'm Ortensia!" The sand cat waved excitedly.

    "This is Hammond Roachenberger," Ozzie said in a flat voice. "Hamm, this is my girlfriend, Ortensia."

    "Oh, is she?" Hammond smirked. "Well! That's a bit of a surprise."

    "That I'm a kitty, and not a bunny like my bee eff?" Ortensia giggled, her tail waving.

    "Naw, that he has a girlfriend at all!" Hammond chuckled. Ortensia and Gail laughed as well.

    "Mrowr?" Ortensia's ear twitched. "I heard another voice!" Ortensia turned towards the van, and Gail was hanging off the passenger side window, and waved. Ortensia gasped, placing her hands to her face. "You hired a mouse!? She's so precious!"

    "Babe!" Ozzie squinted his eyes shut. "You can't call a mouse 'precious'! That's Gail, Gail Hatchetwrench." Gail smirked, making her way down from the van to go over to them.

    "Oh my gosh!" Ortensia crouched down to look at her. "That hair! You have to come by my salon some time."

    "Haha, well it's a bit frizzy and grimy at the moment, but... you work in a salon?" Gail looked interested.

    "Yeah! We do trimming, fur dying, conditioning, the whole nine!" Ortenisa explained. "I'm thinking of getting my fur dyed to match Ozzie's pattern. Wouldn't it be so cute? You should come down sometime!" Ozzie winced and shook his head behind Ortensia, then just grinned guiltily when Ortensia happily looked back at him, as Gail was reading the rabbit's expression.

    "I'll think about it," Gail said in a friendly voice.

    "It's so great that you're making some new friends, Ozzie!" Ortensia smiled happily. "You can be such a grumpy bunny."

    "I know, but it's just-," something caught Ozzie's eye outside of the garage and he gave a shrill gasp. "Uh! Hey babe, let's uh, go into the waiting area a bit and catch up, huh? These two can take care of the oil change!"

    "Sure! I'd like that," Ortensia smiled as she was led away from the garage. Ozzie looked in a hurry.

    "Leavin' us with the work, huh?" Hammond grinned at Gail. Gail put a paw to her mouth and stifled a laugh.

    "Well, she's something!" Gail said brightly.

    "She's got that rabbit wrapped around her paw," Hammond chuckled. "And, she gets to call him bunny."

    Gail tried not to explode into a fit of giggling. "Guess he doesn't dare contradict his kitty."

    The two were interrupted from their gossiping by another black bunny storming in. She looked similar to Ozzie, but had green eyes, and more white fur on her fluffier face, paws, and neck. She was wearing a trendy lime-green and white outfit and skirt, and had a matching stylish hat.

    "OSWALD!" She shrieked. "Where is that stupid rabbit?"

    "Oh, I'm afraid he's not in here," Hammond said in a completely natural-sounding voice. Gail flinched at the furious looking rabbit. The rabbit looked at the pink car.

    "I see that... that feline's car is here. He has to be around!" She stamped her foot.

    "'Fraid not," Hammond shrugged. "If I see him though, what should I tell him?"

    "Tell him that Francine Cottontail's onto him," she sneered, pointing at Hammond. "And that he's gonna pay for dumping me. Tell him I'm gonna wring his neck, then burn all of his stuff! Maybe not in that order!" She spun on her heel and was off.

    "Well!" Hammond chuckled. "Looks like our ol' boy Ozzie is a popular guy!"

    "I could live without that kind of popularity," Gail gave a nervous grin.

    "I hear that," Hammond smiled.

    Ozzie let go of a heavy sigh as he started to close up for the night. He looked up and could almost feel the smiling glares of Hammond and Gail behind him.

    "So, popular with the ladies, are ya?" Hammond asked.

    "A bit," Ozzie winced. "That's the girlfriend... and the ex."

    "The cat seems nice, not sure about the bunny ex, though," Gail giggled.

    "Fran has a... a hard time letting go," Ozzie grumbled. "Part of why I wanted to get away from her. As for Ortensia, well..."

    "Seems nice, if a bit overbearing," Hammond chuckled. "Didn't expect you to go inter-species. Guess you're a more progressive rabbit than we thought."

    "Hey, I never claimed anything like that," Ozzie pointed at Hammond. "It's just kinda how it worked out, all right?"

    "Well I think it's nice how you keep trying to hide how sweet of a rabbit you are," Gail chuckled.

    "Aw, not you too," Ozzie frowned. "I ain't a nice rabbit!"

    "You keep telling yourself that," Hammond chuckled.

    "I like my stylist, but maybe I should give your girlfriend a try," Gail wondered.

    "No, don't!" Ozzie shook his hands at her in alarm. "If you like your hair like it is...! If not, well, go for it. You'll probably end up with a pixie cut by the time she's through."

    "Ooh," Gail frowned, touching her hair defensively. "Okay, maybe not."

    "Ortensia's kind of a free spirit, and I don't think she hears half of the stuff I say," Ozzie smiled guiltily. "Love her to death, though."

    "If you're not careful, I think either of those dames could love you to actual death," Hammond chuckled.

    "Yeah! Just a bit afraid of that," Ozzie said meekly.

    "Well, g'night, see you two in the morning," Hammond waved to the three, who returned the gesture.

    "Is your family okay with you being in an inter-species relationship?" Gail wondered, stopping herself before she left.

    "Took dad a bit to get used to," Ozzie folded his arms. "But, he figured that if we got serious, as long as we could adopt, the Rodbit name wouldn't die out, even if they weren't a rabbit."

    "Well that's okay, I guess," Gail smiled. "I'm gonna go home. You coming?"

    "Actually uh, maybe you could look both ways and make sure Fran isn't hiding behind a building anywhere, and text me if it's clear?"

    "Can do, chief," Gail laughed. "G'night!"

Chapter Text

    "Is it as bad as it looks, Gail?" Ozzie scratched behind his head as Gail crawled out of the large police cruiser's engine. The mouse removed her safety helmet and goggles that she wore when poking around in large damaged cars.

    "Afraid so, but it's not any worse than it looks, either," Gail said, going to get a cloth to wipe herself off a bit. "The fronts dinged up and the engine will need some replacement parts."

    "Rgh, and this is a government vehicle, too," Ozzie's ears dropped. "So we gotta fix it first and bump our other clients down the queue." Ozzie gestured towards other vehicles that were still in his garage, including four rodent-sized vehicles.

    "Well I can keep on with the mouse-mobiles if you and Hamm wanna go full-on with this big gal," Gail grinned, jerking her thumb towards the cruiser. "It might mess up a bit of our scheduling, but hopefully nothing you guys could have worked on anyway."

    "If my estimates on the time till the cars are ready are wrong, the customers are gonna leave me bad reviews online or something," Ozzie tapped his foot, looking away pensively.

    "Wow, you really do worry about every little thing, don't you Ozzie?" Gail smiled in pity. "Why don't you wait until the problems show up to start complaining about them?" Gail started washing her hands.

    "Well, we got a big problem here, that's for sure!" Ozzie smirked, indicating the large cruiser. "Who drives this thing anyway? The pedals are in weird places."

    "I'll order the parts we need as soon as I get my hands clean, Ozzie," Gail said. "Try to relax."

    "Meh, aright," Ozzie walked off to the waiting area where Hamm was keeping his eye on the two cops who brought the cruiser in. A fairly unremarkable looking red fox and gray and white bunny, with bright green and purple eyes, respectively. Hamm had an amused smile on as he listened to the two bicker.

    "It's my lucky day," Ozzie said to Hammond, "the cruiser's gonna take at least a week and a half to fix, and this problem supersedes the half-a-dozen clients we already got." He thrust one hand out and slapped the other on top of it. "Tell me they're not gonna chew my tail off when they get their cars back late."

    "Eh, keep your ears on, Ozzie," Hammond grinned. "Just have 'em yell at me instead of you. You know I can take it. Speakin' of yelling though, you should get a load of these two cops that dragged that cruiser in. Pretty entertaining to hear them go at it!"

    Ozzie let an amused huff out. "You like soap operas too, big guy? Well, better go let them know what they're in for." Ozzie pat Hammond on the side and headed over to the fox and bunny.

    "Okay, listen," the fox held his hands out defensively. "I concede that we might not have gotten the guy if you weren't such an insane driver."

    "You're welcome," the bunny folded her arms and smirked, then looked a bit surprised as she saw another lapine approaching. Ozzie put his hands on his hips and gave them both a judgemental scowl.

    "So, you're the two responsible for this mess," Ozzie gave a dark smirk.

    "Oh, will she be okay, sir?" The fox officer asked in a pouting voice, clasping his paws together.

    "Funny guy," Ozzie muttered with the same smirk, then, his face brightened a bit. "Hey, I recognize you two. You're the 'small cops' of precinct one, ain'cha? That explains the pedal setup. Wait, don't tell me, what was it... Jumps and Savage?"

    "Uh, Officers Judy Hopps and Nick Wilde," Judy corrected firmly, pointing to their name tags. Then, some of her ire faded. "So, how bad is it?"

    "Pretty bad," Ozzie shrugged. "Guessing you were behind the wheel?"

    "What's that supposed to mean?" Judy leaned forward, putting her hands on her hips.

    "You know what they say about us lapines behind the wheel," Ozzie chuckled. "Never ends well." Judy stared at the ceiling and let loose a frustrated growl.

    "You know, Mr. Ozzie sir, I've tried to tell her that, really I have," Nick said innocently after reading his name patch. "But my crazed bunny partner always wants to get behind the wheel herself and submit to that road rage that I suppose is so deeply ingrained into their souls."

    "Listen, you," Judy narrowed her eyes, turning her head toward him swiftly. "I've seen you drive. You couldn't catch a cold. And would you stop trying to chat up the perps while I'm driving after them? We're not a comic duo."

    "Hmhm, you know no one ever stops when the cops ask," Nick smirked. "I'm just having a little fun with it."

    Ozzie grinned back and forth between the two, unleashing an amused snicker. "Y'know, it's nunna my business, but are you two a couple?"

    Judy's jaw dropped a little and he looked at the audacious rabbit. "You're right, that is none of your business. We're partners." Nick just gave a small smile.

    "Well, coulda fooled me anyhow," Ozzie showed his teeth at them in a grin. "You two argued like you was married or somethin'."

    "Well, we do do that, I have to admit," Nick rolled his eyes to Judy. "Don't we, honeybunch?"

    "Oh, don't you start, fox," Judy gave him a stern look, but started to betray a smile.

    "Listen, I ain't gonna judge one way or anudda," Ozzie said. "I got a sand cat girlfriend myself."

    "Well, isn't that special?" Nick folded his arms, giving a mocking smile. Ozzie narrowed his eyes.

    "Hm, I wondered about this. You hear about more bunnies going inter-species lately," Judy considered. "I wonder if it's some sort of social response to bunny overpopulation."

    "Well, good for those 'bunnies', but I'm a 'rabbit'," Ozzie put his thumb into his chest. "Bunnies are does. Rabbits are bucks."

    "Wow, you 'bunnies' sure are insistent on what other mammals call you," Nick said airily. Ozzie narrowed one eye. "Isn't that right, cutie?" Nick turned his expression to Judy, but she didn't even bother looking at him.

    "Ignore him," Judy grumbled with a testy voice, letting her eyelids fall. "He's always like this. Anyway, we were just wondering how long it'd be."

    "Two weeks," Ozzie stated. "Week and a half if you're lucky."

    "Two weeks?" Judy flinched in surprise. She looked away, placing her fingers near her chin and mouth. "Hot fritters, that long without the only cruiser you and I can drive, Nick!" Nick shrugged nonchalantly.

    "Well, at least you don't gotta pay for it, huh?" Ozzie offered, pointing upwards.

    "Pay for it... Bogo!" Judy cringed. "We'll be on parking duty for sure..."

    "Oh, nice," Nick grinned. "I've always wanted to give that a shot. What was that record you set come noon? Two hundred?"

    "Two-oh-one," Judy corrected, grinning a bit.

    "Hey Officer Fox, maybe you could start by writing a ticket for whoever busted up that cruiser," Ozzie suggested.

    "Rgh..." Judy's foot rapidly tapped, but her expression changed to one of surprise when she saw Gail rushing up to Ozzie.

    "Parts are all ordered, boss!" Gail saluted. Ozzie gave a pleased nod in her direction.

    "Oh! You have a mouse working here?" Judy blinked in surprise.

    "How else am I supposed to work on rodent-sized vehicles?" Ozzie shrugged. Gail looked off to the side and grinned.

    "I really like your hair!" Judy smiled, looking over Gail's long, slightly dirty, but nonetheless golden mane.

    "Oh, thanks!" Gail responded warmly, giving her hair a toss. "Grew it myself." Nick chuckled, then tapped Judy on the shoulder.

    "Carrots, maybe we'd better make ourselves scarce so they can actually get to work on our cruiser," Nick offered, tilting his head towards Judy with his hands behind his back.

    "Oh, so it's our cruiser when you want something, and my cruiser when I crash it into the bad guys," Judy complained. "Fine, let's go. Our shift's up. Maybe we can catch a movie."

    "Seeing a mouse reminded me that there's a new McMouse flick out, supposed to be good," Nick said as they left the shop. Ozzie started to frown a bit.

    "What, are they married or something?" Gail looked up at Ozzie.

    "That's what I was wondering," Ozzie's encroaching spell was broken and he chuckled, folding his arms.

    "Definitely at least dating," Hammond smirked, standing behind the counter. "Even if they don't know it."

    "Whatcha mean by that?" Ozzie narrowed an eye.

    "Two different mammals not in touch with their own feelings for each other, bound by a forbidden but powerful love..." Hammond trailed off with an airy voice.

    "Sounds sappy. Are you sure you don't watch soap operas?" Ozzie chuckled at Hammond.

    "I like my entertainment with a little angst, I guess," Hammond smirked.

    "I prefer my movies a little more action packed," Ozzie gave a one-two punch at the air. Then, he frowned again. "Though, not anything by McMouse, that's for sure."

    "What's wrong with Morty McMouse?" Gail held her arms out wide. "I thought it was neat that he's such a highly acclaimed mouse actor."

    "Oh, nothin' against his acting skills," Ozzie held his hand out, "just... well, I'll have to tell you about him sometime. I used to know him." Ozzie swallowed another frown and his face went blank.

    "Really?" Gail seemed surprised.

    "Get his autograph?" Hammond teased.

    "Very funny," Ozzie narrowed his eyes. After that, he headed toward the garage, beckoning the two. "Now, c'mon. Let's see if we can do anything with that cruiser before it's time to go home."

Chapter Text

    At a slow day at the shop, Hammond and Gail were eating their lunch while Ozzie was off checking his accounts in his office. Hammond regarded the mouse with an even expression as they were finishing up their food.

    "So uh, Gadget, you play video games?" His tone was neutral as it nearly always was.

    "Maybe...?" Gail responded cautiously. She could never tell when Hammond was genuinely curious or looking for an opening to tease her or Ozzie.

    "Well, I was wondering if you've ever played Super Buzz Lightyear," Hammond continued.

    "Ah, of course, that one's a classic!" Gail smiled. "Are you just now giving it a try?"

    "Oh yeah, it's on one of those 'virtual systems' that have old games on 'em," Hammond said. "I grew up with the Serval Genetsys so I missed out on a lot of the games on the other consoles."

    "What I wouldn't give to be able to play that game for the first time again!" Gail laughed. "It was one of the first games I beat!"

    "Yeah, well, I'm having a little bit of trouble, and I'm loathe to go searchin' on the internet for the answer," Hammond winced. "Maybe I could get a hint? I think I'm at the last guy, Emperor Zurg, but he can take me out in like two hits."

    "Oh!" Gail nodded enthusiastically. "You probably need the Ion Shield from Zebulon IV."

    "What, there was an item there?" Hammond scratched his head. "How was I supposed to know?"

    "There's a hint in one of the logs you can read," Gail explained.

    "Who has time to read all of that stuff?" Hammond grunted. "I wanna just play the game."

    Gail chuckled. "I know, they really should have made it clearer you almost need it to beat Zurg. But I mean, you CAN beat him without it... I have before." Gail bat her eyes.

    "Oh, is that a challenge, missy?" Hammond scoffed and grinned. At that moment, Ozzie headed out of his office. "I'll beat Emperor Zurg without the Ion Thing from planet Zardon or whatever!"

    "What the heck are you on about, Hammond?" Ozzie lifted an eyebrow.

    "Just video game stuff," Gail waved her hand.

    "Ugh, video games," Ozzie rolled his eyes. "If you ask me, they were better back before they were trying to be movies."

    "There's the grumpy old rabbit again," Hammond laughed.

    "I mean, if you got a story, why not just tell it in a movie with fur-and-blood actors and actresses?" Ozzie held out his paws in front of him. "All those games tryin' to tell a story with those weird polygonal animals runnin' around. It just don't work!"

    "I actually kind of am with you there," Gail smiled. "I like playing older games, like Super Buzz Lightyear."

    "Oh, that one ain't bad," Ozzie scratched at his chin. "Never could beat the last guy, though."

    "You either?" Gail chuckled. "Hehe, I barely even take the Ion Shield anymore, especially if I'm doing a low-percent or speed run."

    "What's she talkin' about now?" Ozzie asked.

    "Not a clue, this time," Hammond shrugged.

    "Oops, sorry," Gail giggled. "I think I cranked the geek dial a bit far there." Ozzie's ear perked as he heard a slightly familiar and certainly distinctive voice. He turned his head toward the TV in the waiting area, where it was coming from. It was George Goof; he was on TV, on a commercial.

    "-So come on down to Goofy's Gear Guys!" The coyote was enthusiastically gesturing, then he leaned into the screen as if to be frank. "We may be 'Goofy', but we're serious about your automobile's care." Ozzie's jaw dropped and his shoulders slumped forward.

    "Oh no, it's Goofy!" Ozzie tugged at his ears. "That Goof guy has his own...? Ah, jeez." Ozzie looked at some of the supplemental location following the commercial. "Oof, karma sure don't waste much time!"

    "Who's this coyote?" Hammond asked.

    "Only a guy I almost hired for my own shop," Ozzie tossed his hand up and let it fall down slowly. "Ugh, should have seen this coming. Now he's a rival!"

    "He's that coyote from the 'How to...' videos online, isn't he?" Gail cocked her head.

    "Yeah, yeah, I thought that'd actually get us in trouble more than anything were I to hire him," Ozzie looked a bit upset, shoving his hands downward and shaking his head. "Jeez, and he's only about five minutes away. Coulda used that guy, he was real nice."

    "Well, if you got him, you might not have me, huh?" Hammond smirked. "So I guess that's good for me."

    "True, true," Ozzie grinned at him. "Guy's a natural actor though, he seems so genuine all the time."

    "Yeah, he's pretty good," Gail noted. "...That means we're behind! We gotta come up with a commercial too, Ozzie! Let's contract a director to shoot us one!"

    "It might be in the budget if we can get it done on the cheap," Ozzie nodded. "Kinda always wanted to be in front of the camera. Took drama in high school."

    "No kiddin'?" Hammond chuckled. "Wouldn't have taken you for a drama rabbit, even as much as you complain."

    "Nice," Ozzie rolled his eyes. "Anyway yeah, I went to high school with Morty McMouse, if you can believe that."

    "Huh!" Gail perked her ears a bit.

    "I think the only reason we even got close was because of our dads," Ozzie looked up at a corner of the ceiling as if to remember. "Both were named Walter and were in the auto repair biz. They were getting along famously, even started to get the rights for a franchise going, beyond just The Lucky Rodbit. They were gonna call it 'Walter Brothers' or something."

    "Something happened, then," Gail's mouth became a small frown.

    "Yeah, they got scammed out of the rights by the weasel that was negotiating with 'em," Ozzie shook his head. "Or maybe it was a marten? I forget. Anyhow, both of 'em took it hard and Walter McMouse decided he didn't want to do car care anymore. Instead, he started to help coach Morty with his fledgling acting career. Whereas my dad just kept plugging away with The Lucky Rodbit, so the two stopped talking much. The guy that scammed 'em eventually ended up calling it 'Warren Bros.' or something."

    "Where do you and Morty come in, then?" Hammond tilted his head. "Obviously he's an actor and you aren't."

    "Heh, rub it in," Ozzie gave a dark smirk. "I helped him with all of his skits; he told me I was a natural. But when push came to shove, he got hired for a ton of parts and I couldn't land myself in one. I felt my enthusiasm for it drain away, and I went back to cars with my dad."

    "Ugh, I can kind of sympathize there," Gail said in a dim tone, sitting cross-legged on the counter. "I got turned down to be a private eye because they said they didn't need someone with my 'expertise'. I guess we both kinda just settled, huh?"

    Ozzie shrugged. "Cars are fun. I don't hate it."

    "Hey hey, you two, let's not get so down on ourselves!" Hammond gave a small smile. "Where'd Zootopia be without grease mammals like us bangin' on their cars? With a lot of broken cars! We don't get nearly enough credit for what we do; so what if that McMouse guy has a few movies under his tiny belt?"

    "Morty McMouse gets paid more than any other single rodent actor," Gail gave a little chiding chuckle.

    "With that kinda money," Ozzie said dreamily, "he could retire when he so much as gets bored!"

    "Eh, boring, boring!" Hammond chuckled, slapping at his own belly. "There's no livin' in that. Anyhow, we gotta get you behind that camera lens so we don't fall behind in the commercial department!"

    "Right," Ozzie had a determined look, but then it softened a little. "I just hope that-"

    "And no worrying!" Hammond said loudly, chuckling.

    "Fine, jeez!" Ozzie kicked at the ground.

    The three were behind Ozzie's desk, looking at his computer monitor at the final cut of their commercial. At least, Ozzie hoped it would be final. Both he and the director were losing patience with each other.

    "Diagnosing your auto's ailments is child s play!" Hammond said on the commercial. "Just leave it to me!"

    "Whether your ride's big or small," Gail said from the video, "if it's wrecked, I can fix it!" She hoisted one of Ozzie's wrenches and balanced it behind her shoulders.

    "My family's been around for your automobiles since there's been automobiles to fix!" Ozzie said dramatically, holding his arms out to the side while Hammond and Gail joined him. "Come on down to Ozzie's Auto Repair, and let us work for you!" He pointed at the screen, and the commercial went blank.

    "I dunno guys, isn't it super corny?" Ozzie drooped his ears and rubbed his cheeks in a rather bored fashion.

    "Local commercials are supposed to be corny!" Hammond grinned. He held up a finger "And catchy!"

    "Since I'm in the commercial, they know we have a rodent-sized mechanic to work on smaller cars," Gail nodded. "Only Mr. Goof was in his commercial."

    "True, true," Ozzie nodded. "Okay, I guess we'll tell 'em  to print it."

    "Finally," Hammond's voice carried quite a bit of relief.

    "We're a team, and maybe the viewers will see that and choose us instead of Mr. Goof!" Gail smiled.

    "Or, they'll see what a hunky chunk of porcine you got with you," Hammond smirked, nudging Ozzie on the shoulder.

    "'Chunk' is right," Ozzie shot back with a snicker. "I think they'll be more interested in our maned mouse, to be honest."

    "Oh come on," Gail chuckled, "just cause I like my hair long?"

    "Okay!" Ozzie slapped his hands together and rubbed them. "We'll be officially 'in the ring' with Goof in the next little while. Though you know, I really don't want it to get too heated between us, he seemed like a nice guy."

    "All's fair in love and auto repair, Ozzie," Hammond folded his arms. "We gotta stay on top."

    "That's right!" Gail nodded. "Unless you want to lose more business to his charisma!"

    "You're right, you're right!" Ozzie said, slamming a fist down on his desk. "All right Goof, we're playin' for keeps!"

Chapter Text

    "So!" Hammond said cheerfully with his arms folded, standing behind Ozzie as he checked the oil on a medium-large car. "It's been about half a year, give or take. I'd say we're doing pretty good, huh?"

    "Yeah, you got me there; we're still in business," Ozzie nodded in agreement. "If anything, traffic has bumped up. I guess a little friendly competition is good after all. But what I don't get is... how can Goofy manage to undercut our prices? We've already had to drop 'em to the point that we're barely profitable. And since that's the case, why's anyone come to us when they could get the job done cheaper at Goofy's?"

    "I reckon it's a bit of a funny feeling, deep down," said a tall brown horse; the owner of the car. The horse had a piece of wheat stuck in his mouth, an off-white mane, and a button-up white shirt with a magenta tie and dark suspenders. "How, indeed, can an operation that came from nowhere afford to labor for cheaper than you all? Suspicious. No sir, I don't like it."

    "Well, you're the detective, Detective Oates," Hammond chuckled. "Any ideas there?"

    Oates took in a breath and folded his hooves. "Don't know. You'll definitely have to watch out for them, though."

    "Not that I ain't grateful," Ozzie said, pulling out a dipstick from the car and examining it, "but why'd you come to us to get your oil changed? Any dip can change oil, even Goofy."

    "Well, you come recommended from other members of the ZPD," Oates fiddled with his badge he wore hanging from his neck, "and like I said, something doesn't add up about that Goofy place." Oates shook his head. "You shouldn't trust a tree when you don't know it's roots."

    "Why would you ever need to trust- no, never mind," Ozzie shook his head. After completing the oil change, Ozzie and Hammond washed their hands and came back up to the detective. "Well, she's good to go, Detective Oates."

    "Excellent, thank you, gentlemammals," Oates offered them both a hoof-bump. Ozzie flinched at the feeling of it and tried not to shake his hand out at the mild pain. "Just know the ZPD is always a phone call away to serve and protect!"

    "Gotcha, catch ya later," Ozzie said, wishing the horse farewell.

    "Whew, what a late day," Gail groaned. "My mousie muscles are going to be sore in the morning."

    "I don't have any of those, but I share the sentiment," Ozzie said, closing up the auto shop while the stars shone above. He rotated his shoulders, giving Gail a soft smirk. "Thanks for agreeing to stay late, Gadget."

    "They were rodent vehicles; I know you could use a tiny paw," Gail smiled. "I couldn't exactly leave you hanging!"

    "Oh you could have," Ozzie lolled his head in her direction, "but then you wouldn't have gotten any overtime pay."

    Gail rubbed her paws with a grin. "Hmhm! I'll be happy to get a fatter paycheck, sore muscles or not."

    "I see my work here is done," Ozzie tossed a casual salute. "I've corrupted this pure, golden-haired mouse with the spirit of avarice."

    "Always willing to learn," Gail laughed, returning the salute. "See you tomorrow!" The two parted ways. Gail was in high spirits as she strolled down the street, heading toward her small apartment. It was built into the side of a larger apartment, in fact. Mice didn't have to pay too much for rent due to the small amount of space they took up, which suited Gail just fine. She didn't like spending too much time alone anyway. If she wasn't working, she wanted to be gaming, tinkering, or sleeping.

    Passing in between two large buildings, she got a strange, foreboding feeling. She turned her head to peer into the alley.

    "Hello, Gail Hatchetwrench," said an unfamiliar, gruff and deep voice. There was a large, roundish shadow in the alleyway. Gail strained her eyes to see in the dark, but couldn't make much out. Rounded ears... was that a tail? She couldn't tell offhand.

    "Who's there?" Gail squinted, taking half a step back.

    "Just someone with a business proposition," the gruff voice returned. "I've heard you like to be appreciated for your innovations and work ethic. So how about a deal? Come apply for a job at Goofy's Gear Guys."

    "What?" Gail blinked. "Why would I do that?"

    "We can pay you more than that miserly, penny-pinching rabbit," the voice chuckled darkly. "I think it would be in your... best interest."

    "Is that a threat?" Gail grit her teeth. "I'm loyal to Ozzie! I'm not going to swap jobs just because some big coward in the shadows wants me to!" She stepped back into the light bath of a streetlamp. She felt her heart beating faster as the shape didn't respond; didn't even move. "Hh-How about you come out here where I can see you? Then maybe we can talk particulars!"

    "Changing your mind?" the voice chuckled with a sinister edge. "Well I'm not coming out there. I prefer not to get my own paws dirty. Just think on the offer. You'd be paid better and respected better at Goofy's Gear Guys. See you..." Gail thought she caught the glint of eyes as the figure's head turned. Feline? Gail stepped two steps closer as the light faded. The figure turned again and Gail saw the outlines of claws in the shadows. She froze and drew in a sharp breath. "Ah ah... you're smarter than that, aren't you, Gail? I don't want to get my paws dirty, but I will if I have to."

    Gail's heart pounded; it was a threat! Her stomach twisting, Gail let the figure leave.

    "Jeepers..." Gail frowned. "What the heck was that all about...?"

    Hammond was settling into a nice bubble bath in his apartment after a long day of work. Of course, that "long day" was relative, as he managed to get off before Ozzie and Gail, but he still figured he'd treat himself. He set up his iPawpad to one of his favorite soap operas and set it on a stand to watch while he bathed.

    "Ah gee," Hammond frowned, relaxing in the bubbles. "Is Martina really not going to try to work it out with Charles? I mean, granted the guy's mother is most likely a serial killer, but hey, those two are really good together. Starting to wonder if Charles is really actually a female though, and maybe Martina's a guy in disguise? Can't wait for the next episode, things should get interesting!"

    Hammond's phone rang.

    "Aw, for cryin' out loud," Hammond bat the water with a hand, causing a splash. "What kinda telemarketer is callin' at this time of night?" Hammond stretched his arm out and reached for his phone, leaning his head over the tub so he wouldn't accidentally drop his phone in the water. "Unknown number? Well this should be interesting. I wonder if it will even be in my language!" Hammond pressed the call accept button. "Hello, it's Hamm."

    "Hello, Hammond Roachenberger," the gruff voice on the other line returned.

    "Oh hey, it's one of those robo-calls!" Hammond laughed. "I'm surprised they pronounced my name right!" Hammond moved to hang up.

    "This is not a robot call," the voice went on. "Have you ever thought about working for Goofy Gear Guys?"

    "Not particularly," Hammond admitted, chuckling. "Who wants to know?"

    "Just an interested party," the gruff voice chuckled. "You can be paid better here than at that cheap rabbit's place."

    "Well, I do like money," Hammond grinned, kicking his feet a little.

    "So, how about we set up an interview-"

    "But...! Unfortunately I have a strict policy against accepting offers from mysterious voices over the phone," Hammond said blithely. "Sorry, pal."

    "No, wait-"

    Hammond hung up.

    "Jeez, what kinda lowlifes does that Goofy guy have workin' for him that he's trying to buy out the competition?" Hammond shrugged, returning to his bath. "Creep."

    The next day at the shop, Ozzie eventually noticed that Gail looked a bit distracted while she was working; she lacked her usual focus.

    "Something up, Gadget?" Ozzie wondered, his brow lowering.

    "Ah, nothing much," Gail said vaguely.

    "You won't believe who called me last night!" Hammond proclaimed with his signature tired amusement.

    "Who?" Ozzie asked.

    "Got no idea!" Hammond laughed. "Some guy affiliated with Goofy, I think. He was tryin' to buy me out."

    "What?" Ozzie suddenly looked angry and offended.

    "Really?" Gail narrowed her eyes. "I... last night I was accosted by a stranger in an alley. He made me the same offer."

    "The heck!?" Ozzie burst out. He looked between the two, feeling a sense of anger and helplessness. "Well, do either of you want to go...?"

    "Nah," Hammond gently waved his hand. "Don't like it when mammals play dirty pool."

    "The guys offer sounded vaguely like a threat..." Gail put a hand to her chest. "It was kind of scary, if I'm being honest."

    "This is ridiculous!" Ozzie stamped a foot. "And here I thought Goofy was going to be one of those friendly rivals or something... but seems like he's actually an underhanded jerk! He's trying to buy off my own people? Oates was right, there is something suspicious going on!"

    "Hey, what'd the guy look like, Gadget?" Hammond wondered. "Did you catch the species?"

    "Not quite, he made it a point to stay in the shadows, like a coward," Gail seemed disgusted. "He seemed... ah... rotund. Probably a cat of some kind, I think I saw feline eyes, ears, and a tail."

    "I'm going to give Goofy a piece of my mind," Ozzie flashed an angry, toothy scowl. "You two stay here, and if you see anyone matching that description try to get in the shop, don't hesitate to call the cops."

    "I doubt he'd show his face in broad daylight," Gail said.

    "And keep your phones on," Ozzie snapped. "If I find the guy and his voice matches your memories of it, someone's gonna pay."

    Ozzie quickly stormed out of his shop.

    Hammond turned his head to Gail. "So, you think he's worried about us? Worried we'll quit? Or just angry that this Goofy guy turned out to be a lowlife after all?"

    "All of the above," Gail muttered, making a check-mark in the air and clambering onto a counter to be closer to Hammond and his phone.

    Ozzie threw the doors open to Goofy's Gear Guys and stared around suspiciously.

    "Ah hey!" a scraggly brown male rat greeted him, wearing a dark blue jumpsuit. "How's it goin'? Need anything repaired on your car?"

    "Can it, rat," Ozzie pointed at him, then pushed his thumb into his own chest. "I'm Ozzie Rodbit. I need to speak to-"

    "Oh, you're Ozzie!" the rat cackled, interrupting him. "Nice to meet the competition!"

    A big portly black jaguar was the next to greet him, rubbing his hands on a cloth. He wore a jumpsuit that matched the rat's in color. "What can we do ya fer, Ozzie?"

    "I need to talk to Goofy!" Ozzie barked. "Er... George Goof! He in?"

    "Yeah, but I'm thinkin' you can't go talk to him without an appointment!" the jaguar said in a jolly voice, pointing down at him.

    "Cut the crap!" Ozzie shouted, and started storming into what looked like an office and threw the door open. George was sitting there at a desk, looking up from his computer.

    "Oh, well hey there, Ozzie!" George said with a friendly wave. "What brings you to my neck of the woods?"

    "What's the big idea, Goofy!?" Ozzie thrust his hands into his hips, tapping his foot at blinding speed. "You're sending a goon to try to buy my mammals out? Get them to work for you?"

    George blinked, looking surprised. "Well now, where's this comin' from? I never heard of nothin' like that."

    "Yeah, a likely story!" Ozzie took out his phone and dialed Hammond. Ozzie punched the button for speaker phone angrily.

    "Jeez, you there already, Ozzie?" Hammond answered. The rat and the jaguar stood near the entrance to the office, curious at the scene Ozzie was making.

    "Is everything all right?" Gail asked with a hint of worry.

    "I wanted to hear from your own mouths which of you bozos is trying to buy out my employees!" Ozzie growled, spinning around to look at the rat and panther.

    "What do ya mean?" the rat shrugged. "Why'd we need anyone else? We got enough kinds of mammals to cover all sizes of cars, just like you do! We're good!"

    "Rizzo's right, Ozzie," George shook his head. "I don't got the funds to add anyone else to my payroll at the moment." George looked over at the jaguar. "You got anything you wanna add, Pete?"

    "Uh, I dunno what you want me to say, Mr. Goof," Pete scratched his head. "I'm as confused as you are!"

    "Wait a minute...!" Hammond said over the phone. "That's him, that's the guy!"

    "Yeah, that voice...!" Gail agreed. "Is that a big cat?"

    "It sure is!" Ozzie sneered. "A big, black jaguar!"

    "What...!?" Pete sputtered, backing a step away with his hands up defensively. "What's all this now? I don't know nothin' about nothin'!"

    "Are you really tryin' to buy out Ozzie's guys, Pete?" Rizzo stifled a burst of laughter. "Pfft."

    "Well hold on there...!" George stood up from his desk, his brow furrowed. "Have you got any proof of all this besides the words of those other mammals?"

    "What proof do you need?" Ozzie thrust his finger at George. "You're the one that probably set him up to do it!"

    "Those are some serious accusations you're makin', Mr. Rodbit," George said with a polite, quiet anger. "Last time I checked I've never stormed into your auto shop and accused your employees of bribery."

    "Yeah, what gives?" Rizzo cackled.

    Ozzie sputtered as he tried to come up with something to say. He felt his anger deflating, but then made it surge back. "Well...!"

    "I dunno, he might have you there!" Hammond's voice cheerfully came over.

    "Ugh, you too, Hamm?" Ozzie grit his teeth. "Hanging up now." Ozzie did so. He pointed again at George, but with less conviction. "Listen, you stay away from my people, okay? And I'll stay away from yours."

    "That's fine with me," George said, his brow starting to relax. "Maybe we can do our best to keep things amicable from now on, okay? Not make any wild accusations without proof."

    "I- ugh, fine," Ozzie frowned. He glared at Pete. "That goes double for you, cat. I don't want to hear about you again."

    "I didn't do nothin', I swear!" Pete shrugged at him with wide eyes, then looked to George for acknowledgement. George nodded diagonally.

    Feeling defeated, Ozzie left Goofy's Gear Guys and headed back to his own shop.

    Gail settled in for bed in her small apartment that evening, slipping into some purple and white vertically striped sleep clothes. She bounded into her bed and stretched.

    "What a stressful day," Gail mused. Her phone rang abruptly, making her flinch. "Golly, who could that be at this time of evening?" She checked the phone; it was an unknown number. Feeling a fear start to wash over her, she hovered her finger over the accept button, but didn't answer. As there was no voicemail left, she figured it was a telemarketer and settled in for sleep. The phone rang again. Gail was feeling even more anxious, and reached out for her phone. She pressed the accept button.

    "Hello...?"

    "Gail Hatchetwrench," it was the voice from earlier. Gail gasped, instantly frozen in fear. "You all shouldn't have done what you did today. I'd suggest you seriously reconsider your position. Your small, weak, mouse-like position. It could be improved by working for George Goof, and I can guarantee you it will get worse if you stay with that rabbit. If you know what's good for you, quit your job at Ozzie's Auto Repair at your earliest convenience. I'll be in touch, Gail. Oh, and don't think about going to the police with this. If you do, I'll know about it, and that apartment of yours will soon need a new tenant."

    Gail hung up and flung the phone away from her as if it was suddenly on fire. She placed a hand to her chest, gasping for breath. She had no idea what to do. She was getting death threats for working with Ozzie? What was going on with that George Goof character, and why was he trying to hide what he was doing?

    Gail grit her teeth; she wanted answers. She got up from her bed and reached into a drawer, retrieving a small card, even by mouse standards.

    The mouse slowly made her way over to pick up her phone from across the room and sighed, reading the card. She checked the time on her phone. It was nearing midnight.

    "It's late, but... well, they did say if I needed help, just call..." Gail said softly.

Chapter Text

    The morning after Ozzie exploded into Goofy's Gear Guys, the rabbit made his way to work. His thoughts and mood were both clouded by the strange occurrences that happened the previous day. He couldn't imagine what he'd do without Gail and Hammond. If he couldn't have mammals like those working with him, he'd probably have to close up shop. He sighed, wondering what his next plan of action should be. He also wondered if he should take any extra steps to try to protect the two from the harassment. Currently, he was drawing a blank.

    Thus, Ozzie was somewhat irritable when an enthusiastic, foot-and-a-half tall meerkat accosted him a block from his auto shop.

    "Hello, sir!" the meerkat said, running a hand through his head fur. A tuft of red fur, likely dyed, stood out on the middle of the meerkat's head and caught Ozzie's eye briefly. "Step right up, step right up! Have I got a culinary experience for you, my friend!"

    Ozzie turned his head and saw a mobile food stand; there appeared to be a warthog there who was grilling bugs. He was stout and just over three feet tall.

    "Good morning!" offered the warthog's cheery voice. "Would you like to try one of our famous grubfurters?"

    "The name's Timon, and that's Pumbaa over there" the meerkat said, approaching Ozzie with his hands splayed out. "We can make your taste buds light up like-"

    "Uh, you do realize I'm a rabbit, right?" Ozzie made a face at the smell of the grilling bugs.

    "Eh, even prey can use a little extra protein every once in awhile!" Timon claimed. "What do ya say; wanna give one a shot?"

    Ozzie looked over at the grilling grubs and he felt as if his stomach was going to turn and lose what little breakfast he wolfed down before he left. "Those are the biggest bugs I've ever seen..."

    "I know; isn't it great?" Timon chuckled in an excited voice as if he couldn't believe it either.

    "Some of our bugs have been imported from Girafrica!" Pumbaa boasted.

    "Yes, on a random street corner in Zootopia, I believe that," Ozzie's eyes half-lidded.

    "Hey pal, what crawled into your jumpsuit!? I got connections; this is some prime insect meat we got here!" Timon pointed at himself with both of his hands. "You want some grub or not?"

    "I think I'll pass," Ozzie winced. "Looks like you fry 'em in a ton of grease..."

    "Slimy, yet satisfying," Pumbaa grinned widely. "That's our motto!"

    "Not much of a motto," Ozzie returned, rubbing his chin.

    "Why?" Timon shrugged. "What's a 'motto' with it?" The meerkat slapped his knees and doubled over, laughing in a shrill tone at his own wit. Pumbaa offered a clearly enthusiastic smile, even as Ozzie figured he must have heard that joke many times before.

    "Hey," Ozzie suddenly looked distracted, peering past the unusual duo. "Either of you gentlemammals noticed any strange characters around this area? Maybe like from a few days ago?"

    Pumbaa closed his eyes and put a hand to his chest, then looked up dramatically. "Really, are we not all strange characters in this crazy production we call life...?" One of Ozzie's eyebrows raised slowly.

    "Yes, Pumbaa, very nice," Timon's eyes half closed and he suddenly looked bored. "I think what he means to say is, no, we haven't seen anything too unusual."

    "Then would you guys do me a favor and let me know if you see anyone slinkin' around here all suspicious-like?" Ozzie asked, his palms up plaintively. "I'm lookin' specifically for a black jaguar."

    "Uh, we ain't secret agents, buddy," Timon folded his arms. "I don't see why we should stick our necks out for someone who won't even humor us by buyin' a grubfurter."

    "Aw, c'mon Timon, how hard could it be?" Pumbaa retorted in a tone that seemed equal parts pleading and reproving. "It'd be fun, like playing one of those hidden object games! I'd be happy to tell you about any suspicious black jaguars I happen to see, mister..."

    "Ozzie, Ozzie Rodbit," he introduced.

    "Guessing you must work at that auto shop a block down, huh?" Timon nodded in that direction.

    "See, Timon? You're like a detective already!" Pumbaa exclaimed with a jolly flair.

    "Spare me," Timon half-lidded his eyes. "I don't get paid to mammal-watch. We'll let you know if we see anyone, ya big cheapskate."

    "Hey," Ozzie frowned. "Just because I don't feel like expanding my palette this morning doesn't mean I'm a cheapskate!" Ozzie was about to wrestle internally with the several other reasons that could be pointed out to describe him as cheap, and decided not to think on that further. He noticed the name of the duo's stand: "Hakuna Matata".

    "Hack-you-nuh muh-ta-ta?" Ozzie narrowed one eye. "What's that mean?"

    "Eh, don't worry about it," Timon flicked his hand. Ozzie quickly slid into an irritated face, to which Timon grew a large smirk. "Heh, I got him, Pumbaa."

    "It actually means 'no worries'!" Pumbaa proclaimed, flipping over a grub to grill its other side.

    "Okay, I'm going to leave before I get a headache," Ozzie gave a half-hearted wave. "See you two around."

    "Goodbye, mister Rodbit sir!" Pumbaa waved with his free hand. Ozzie wondered if the warthog was that happy and enthusiastic about everything he said.

    "Catch ya later," Timon offered. Ozzie dashed over to the crosswalk to get to work, already a bit late.

    After about a half hour of opening up the shop, Ozzie noticed Gail was missing and began to get concerned.

    "Uh, you see Gadget come in at all, Hamm?" Ozzie asked hesitantly.

    "Nope," Hammond shook his head.

    "Great... it's not like her to be late, and she didn't call in," Ozzie tapped his foot in distraction. The rabbit looked over at the smallest of the doors to the lobby as he heard it open, but instead of a mouse, two chipmunks entered. Ozzie's face quickly became dubious as he looked them over. One had a bomber jacket and fedora with a strangely dark nose for a chipmunk, while the other wore a bright red and yellow Pawaiian shirt and had lazy eyes.

    "Can I help you gentlemammals?" Ozzie's voice reflected his bafflement at their fashion choices.

    "We're looking for Gail Hatchetwrench," the dark-nosed chipmunk said.

    Ozzie didn't respond immediately. "Well, who wants to know?"

    "I'm Chip, and this is Dale," the chipmunk with the dark nose approached Ozzie and held a card up for him. Ozzie picked up the card and squinted at it.

    "Chip Tango and Dale Salsa... private detectives, huh?" Ozzie read off the card.

    "We're brothers!" Dale offered.

    "Half brothers," Chip clarified, "but even if we weren't, there's no way I would have stayed with the name 'Chip Salsa'."

    Ozzie looked over to Hammond with a smirk. "Well, I dunno, Chip n' Dale by itself... heh, y'know. Chippendale..." Hammond snorted with a lazy grin.

    "Ugh," Chip rolled his eyes. "Listen, do you know where Ms. Hatchetwrench is or not? She asked us to meet her here."

    "That so?" Ozzie was skeptical, and he pulled out his phone. "Well maybe I can reach her with a text. Let's see here... 'where... are... you'?"

    "Jeez, he types slower than my grandma," Hammond scoffed, "and she's dead!"

    "Quiet, you," Ozzie grumbled. "Oh, she's actually responding. 'Are the chipmunks here'?" Ozzie eyed them. "'Yes'." He replied. "'Take them to the garage', what...?" Ozzie looked over at the two and shrugged. "All right you two, let's go." Ozzie led them to the garage and opened it up. "Uh, Gail, you here?" The lid on Ozzie's toolbox rustled and opened.

    "Over here," Gail said, opening the lid and climbing out of the toolbox. She noted the presence of the chipmunks and headed over to the three. "Ah, I see Chip and Dale have arrived."

    "Sure have," Dale nodded.

    "What gives?" Ozzie blinked. "You didn't even clock in this morning?"

    "I was being cautious," Gail said with a worried look in her eyes. "I received another threatening phone call."

    Ozzie's eyes widened and he held his paws out. "Gadget, this is serious. We gotta call the police."

    "That's exactly what the phone call said not to do," Gadget fiddled with her fingers.

    "All the more reason to call, then!" Ozzie brought his arms out wide.

    "As we don't know the source of those threatening phone calls," Chip began, "the first step is to assume it could be anyone. Maybe the perpetrator has an inside with the police. Maybe he is a corrupt policemammal. We just don't know. Ms. Hatchetwrench did the right thing by calling a third party."

    "Just Gail, please," Gail said curtly, not looking at Chip.

    "Right," Ozzie planted his hands on his hips and stared down at the two, "so I'm supposed to believe two tiny chipmunks are gonna protect Gadget while the whole ZPD couldn't."

    "How much labor do you think they'd spare for a case with no proof like this?" Chip snapped derisively. "She'd be lucky to get a rodent to investigate."

    "Hey! I got some acquaintances at the ZPD, what do you got?" Ozzie shouted.

    "A record as two of the best private detectives in Little Rodentia!" Chip threw back.

    "Well, in case you haven't noticed, this ain't Little Rodentia, this is Downtown Zootopia, and you won't be able to keep Gadget safe any more than I can!" Ozzie threw up one hand.

    "Guys, guys!" Gadget waved her hands. She made a twisting motion in the air with two fingers. "Can we turn down the egos just a bit? I can take care of myself." She started rustling in the toolbox she had emerged from.

    "No offense, Gadget," Ozzie shrugged, "but the guy that's threatening you is a big cat, and-" Ozzie noticed that Gail was brandishing a wrench almost as large as she was, "and that's a wrench."

    Gail pressed a button on the wrench's rubbed grip and it hummed disconcertingly with a loud pop, electricity jumping between its tines. Ozzie exaggeratedly flinched, and the chipmunks leaped back.

    "Jiminy jaminy!" Ozzie shrieked. "You turned that wrench into a taser?"

    "I did," Gail nodded. "It should have just enough juice to floor a big cat, so all I need is someone to watch my back."

    "Er, and that's just what one of us is going to do," Dale nodded, stepping forward, then dragging Chip forward as well. "I nominate you, Chip. You look after the mouse lady with the electric wrench."

    Chip nodded, recomposing himself and looking determined. "Right. I'll shadow her for a few days and see if I can discover who's stalking her. In the meantime," Chip pointed at Dale, "you're with Hammond Roachenberger, the pig. Just in case the suspect tries to reach him again."

    "Aye-aye, Chipper!" Dale saluted.

    "I see you've already been reviewing what's happening," Ozzie said. "Uh, what do you want me to do?"

    "Nothing," Chip sneered. "I think you've done enough already, Mr. Rodbit."

    "What's that supposed to mean!?" Ozzie was instantly confrontational again.

    "We have been researching what's going on," Chip explained, "and you letting three possible suspects know that you're onto them is only going to make things harder and more dangerous for the rest of us!"

    "Wh-uh!" Ozzie put his hands to his chest. "I mean c'mon, I was going to call the police!"

    "The police can't be everywhere," Chip narrowed his eyes, "and if a criminal is determined enough to commit a crime, they are going to find a way."

    "Ugh, jeez..." Ozzie folded his arms tightly with a scowl, looking away. "I can't believe I'm being talked down to by a couple of rodents who look like they walked off the sets of Indiantler Jones and Magnum PIG." Ozzie gestured at Chip and Dale respectively.

    "I'm going to ignore that," Chip grumbled while Dale chuckled. "We'll review some of the facts of the case with you over the course of the day and then proceed with shadowing our charges."

    "Chip and Dale are good at their jobs," Gail said, gesturing at Ozzie. "Don't worry so much, Ozzie."

    "Who's worried!?" Ozzie frowned. "You're the one paying them, do what you want!" The rabbit gestured flippantly and exited back to the lobby. Gail frowned.

    "Gee, and I thought you had a stick up your tail, Chip," Dale joked.

    "Quiet," Chip started researching on his phone. "I'm going to do some looking into this Goofy guy. There's something fishy about him. Minor internet celebrity to business owner just like that?" Chip snapped his fingers. "He gives me a weird vibe..."

    "Is it 'cause he's got his front teeth filed down for some reason and they kinda look like mine?" Dale gestured at his front two teeth.

    Chip looked over at Dale briefly. "Maybe that's part of it."

    Two evenings later, Gail walked down her usual way home. Though she felt like deviating, she figured she might be more likely to encounter the stalker if she didn't. Not that she especially wanted to, but there was a private detective shadowing her. She wished she could talk to Chip for a little companionship or to calm her nerves, but it was important for her to seem like she didn't know he was there. Gail sighed and began to walk between two buildings. She flinched as she saw a familiar shadowy round figure in the dark. Gail took a step back and moved a paw toward the handle of her wrench that she was wearing on her back.

    "Good evening, Gail," the gruff voice greeted.

    "Quit stalking me," Gail said tersely. At realizing she was being accosted, Chip looked at the building nearest to the two and judged how difficult it would be to climb up it. If he could get above the mammal, he'd have a good vantage point from one of the fire escapes to try to take a picture of the suspect.

    "Have you given any more consideration to my offer...?" the shadow asked menacingly.

    "I've thought about it," Gail started, "and I've decided I don't want to be bullied into a job by some- some antagonistic coward who won't step out of the shadows!" Chip started scrambling up the wall, his claws barely finding purchase in the space between the bricks. He almost made it to the fire escape and Gail could see him out of the corner of her eye, though she took great pains to not look at him directly.

    "Big words for a small mouse..." the voice smoothed out a little and the shadow showed off its claws again. "The winds of change are going to blow, little 'Gail', and I'm afraid you're nothing more than a light breeze."

    "Guess again!" Gail frowned and drew her wrench, holding it steady in her hands and activating it. The flash from the electricity wasn't enough to illuminate the shadows, but it made the assailant step back a pace. Chip tried to hold his camera steady on the figure, but the netting on the fire escape was meant for an animal far larger than him. Suddenly, Chip lost his footing, falling through the escape and landing in an empty trash can with a small thud. Gail's eyes widened.

    "Well well, it appears you're a bit of a thunderstorm after all," the voice chuckled. "My, you are a clever little mouse." Gail deflated slightly as it seemed like the shadow hadn't noticed Chip falling. Her brow furrowed in muted anger and worry.

    Chip let a small breath out at a pain in his shoulder from the fall, but rotating it, it didn't appear to be broken. He grit his teeth and climbed up the inside of the garbage can, hanging on laboriously to the edge of the can with his uninjured side and raising his camera to take a picture with his other hand.

    "This will all go away if you quit your job and schedule an interview with Mr. Goof," the shadow warned. "Until another time..." the figure turned and moved toward Chip. The chipmunk fought the impulse to squeak and dropped down carefully inside the trash can again. When Chip saw the figure move by, facing away from him, he gathered up his strength and once more attempted to scale the inside of the trash can, snapping a desperate picture as the figure rounded the corner.

    "Drat, barely got anything!" Chip clambered out of the trash and made his way toward Gail.

    "Are you all right?" Gail asked, sheathing her wrench on her back.

    "Yeah, just dinged my shoulder a little," Chip grumbled, rubbing his shoulder. "I'm fine."

    "Did you get anything?" Gail added with a tinge of worry in her voice.

    "Not as much as I'd like to have gotten," Chip huffed, looking through the pictures he took with Gail. "The one I got of most of the body he's still cloaked in shadow, and this one... darn it! He's in the street lamp, but all you can see is his tail."

    "Wait- wait, zoom in on the tail," Gail pointed. Chip breathed out through his teeth, but complied. "It's only got- it's only got a black tip! The rest of the tail we can see is grayish and white... Pete's tail should be fully black; he's a melanistic jaguar."

    "I know that, I know that...!" Chip grumbled impatiently. "So that means there's some other mammal making these threats, some sort of third party? No, they have to be affiliated with Goofy; no reason to do this otherwise..." Chip tapped his cheek as he thought. "Hmm, I'll have to go over this with Dale when we reconvene tomorrow."

    "What would you like me to do?" Gail wondered.

    "You just stay safe," Chip shook his head. "I still have to stake out your place tonight to make sure the perp doesn't try anything."

    Gail seemed pensive and perhaps a little disappointed. "So you don't want me to do anything."

    "You're the client, not the private detective, Gail," Chip sighed.

    "Yeah, because you didn't hire me," Gail frowned. "What's the matter, is it because you didn't think I was smart enough? Because I was female?"

    "No! It's-" Chip threw a hand to his forehead in exasperation. "You didn't have the credentials, and we didn't need a mechanic! Or... gadgeteer, or whatever!" Gail folded her arms and wore a tight frown.

    "Listen, it's still just Dale and me, so..." Chip shrugged. "Just let us do our jobs, okay?"

    "Fine, let's just get out of here," Gail sighed, starting to head towards her apartment with Chip.

    "Kinda hope Dale has better luck," Chip mumbled.

    "Whoa, no way!" Dale marveled, sitting in a chair next to Hammond while watching TV. "Charles is actually Charlie, and a female? What a twist!" Dale began to laugh.

    "Right?" Hammond chuckled, "I kinda called it. Another piece of popcorn, my chipmunk friend?"

    "Thanks!" Dale took a popcorn kernel and began to eat it. "You think his- er, her mother's a serial killer, though? I kinda get that vibe."

    "Probably," Hammond nodded. "Guess we'll have to wait till next season to find out. Between you and me, I think Martina is a guy in disguise."

    "Huh, you think they'd pull the same trick twice?" Dale mused. "Interesting!" After finishing off the popcorn piece, Dale leaped from the couch and headed over to the window sill. "Might as well do my job." Dale peered into the darkness. "Don't see any big cats stakin' the place out..."

    "I'm almost insulted," Hammond said blithely. "What, they don't think I'm worth harassing too?"

    "It's probably more simple than that," Dale sucked at his teeth. "Gail's easier to bully, what with her bein' a mouse and all."

    "Easy to bully? Guess you don't really know her, huh?" Hammond smirked. "She's even put Ozzie in his place a couple of times."

    "Yeah but," Dale shook his head, "if things escalated physically, you'd probably at least have a chance against a big cat, but a rodent'd be no match. Assuming we got caught off guard and all."

    "Mm," Hammond thought about this. "Shame people have gotta act that way. Size advantages, bullying, the whole nine."

    "I'm excited, personally!" Dale smiled. "Never got to do a big case in the bigger area of Zootopia before. Chip and I have always said 'there's no case too big; no case too small,' but we've never actually got to do a 'big' one, heh."

    "Mark me down as rooting for the little guy," Hammond shrugged. "There's some advantages to being small, I guess."

    "Stealth, for one!" Dale put on a sneaky look.

    "Yeah, wearin' that shirt? No," Hammond laughed.

    "I'd wear something else for stealth," Dale returned a chuckle. "This is just me 'blending in' by looking like your average clueless tourist."

    "You wear it well," Hammond quipped.

    Dale laughed again and looked at his phone as he got a text from Chip. "Ah, looks like I got some research to do."

    "Exciting," Hammond quipped, "welp, I'm gonna head to bed then, you do what you're paid for."

    "Roger!" Dale saluted.

    "Any idea how the investigation's going?" Ozzie wondered a few days later in the lobby with Gail and Hammond.

    "I wish I knew," Gail mumbled. "Chip and Dale have been doing lots of research and spying on Goofy and other persons of interest."

    "Don't get too discouraged, now," Hammond offered.

    "Trying not to," Gail nodded, "where there's life, there's hope." Gail looked off to the side and sighed. "You know, or something optimistic like that."

    Ozzie frowned, and his frown worsened when the chipmunks burst back into his shop wearing black suits. Chip had a brown tie with a fancy looking clip on, and Dale wore a red bow tie.

    "We have a plan!" Dale proclaimed excitedly.

    "Do you, now?" Ozzie didn't seem impressed.

    "Yes, and you're gonna be a part of it!" Chip pointed at Ozzie.

    "Me!?" Ozzie pointed at himself.

    "Yeah, we don't have much time to waste, c'mon!" Dale beckoned.

    "You said you wanted to do something to help, right?" Chip encouraged. "Now's your chance!"

    "Uh..." Ozzie looked back at his two employees.

    "We'll hold down the fort," Hammond shrugged.

    "Good luck," Gail tried a small smile.

    "All right, let's get this show on the road," Ozzie said, gathering his things and heading off with the two rodents.

    "Don't worry, I'll explain everything down to the last detail on the way," Chip said enthusiastically. Ozzie had no idea what he was getting into.

    "Uh, you got anything nicer to wear, Mr. Rodbit?" Dale winced.

    He was getting into a suit, apparently.   

Chapter Text

    Though it was the middle of the day, the air in Tundratown was as frigid as Ozzie remembered it the few times he was forced to cross over into the icy district. Ozzie shivered and instinctively brought the edges of his suit coat closer to him, though it did little to stave off the cold.

    "Jeez, even with thick fur, why would anyone live in this wretched district?" Ozzie complained. The chipmunks walking with him seemed to ignore him.

    "So Ozzie, you've got the plan down, right?" Chip asked him. Ozzie felt as if he was being talked down to by an overbearing supervisor.

    "Relax," Ozzie waved his paw dismissively. "I'm a decent actor. I mean, you're not going to believe this, but in high school I was in drama with Morty McMouse."

    "Who?" Chip's brow lowered in confusion. Ozzie looked at him incredulously.

    "You don't- you don't know who McMouse is?" the black and white rabbit blinked. "The actor?"

    "Oh, he calls himself Mickey Mouse these days, ever since he got married," Dale piped up as the three walked down the sidewalks, crossing a couple of blocks. "Guess he thought it was a snappier name."

    "Mickey Mouse!?" Chip repeated, his eyes flying open. "Then you're right, I don't believe that. You rubbed shoulders with the most famous mouse in all of Hollywool?"

    "Yeah, rub it in," Ozzie grumbled. "He gets the fame and fortune and I'm just another nobody who tells stories about him."

    "Well, to be blunt," Chip waved both of his hands, "we don't really need you to act per se; we don't even need you to get into the restaurant. In fact, it'll be easier for us if you get kicked out. So just be your boisterous self and we'll be fine."

    "Gee, thanks," Ozzie rolled his eyes. "Where exactly are we headed?"

    "Monstro's," Chip replied.

    "Monstro's?" Ozzie echoed as he raised an eyebrow. "That hoity-toity place is impossible to get into! Not to mention it's mostly a predator joint!"

    "Hence the plan to smuggle us in," Dale raised a finger.

    "We've staked the place out and we know where we're headed," Chip said hastily. "You just do your thing and we'll do ours."

    "Who're you meeting here, anyway?" Ozzie wondered.

    "Not that you need to know," Chip grumbled. "But it's Mr. Goof's business partner, Patrick Catterwall."

    "We're gonna spy on 'em and see if we can learn anything useful!" Dale explained. Ozzie and the chipmunks ducked behind a building. Ozzie looked around for any animal eyes, and seeing none, shrugged and pointed at Chip.

    "Okay guys, just remember: you asked for this," Ozzie opened his coat with his paws and Chip and Dale scurried up his pant legs and launched into his coat pockets.

    "Ugh," Chip immediately complained as Ozzie closed his coat back up. "It smells musty in here."

    "I can count the number of times I've had to dress up fancy on my paws," Ozzie said irritably. "Now, where's this place?"

    "One more block down," Dale replied. "The facade is shaped like a black, toothed whale. Ya can't miss it!"

    Indeed, Ozzie didn't miss it after traversing one more block. Staring up at the intimidating facade and trying to carry himself a bit wider so it didn't seem like he was smuggling two private detective chipmunks in his coat, he took a deep, stabilizing breath.

    "Welp, here goes nothing," Ozzie sighed as he opened the door to the building.

    Ozzie tried not to flinch in distaste the instant he walked into Monstro's. His nose crinkled as it twitched; everything smelled overwhelmingly like fish. Moving up to the counter, he encountered a small brown bear wearing a handsome burgundy vest. Though "small", the bear was still a foot and a half taller than Ozzie, and the rabbit had to fight a small note of panic as he went over his "lines" on this impromptu mission.

    "Good noon to you, sir," the bear greeted in a light, gentle, and almost hoarse voice. When he noticed that there was a rabbit in front of him, he squinted his eyes skeptically. "Ah, Mr. Rabbit, you are aware that Monstro's is primarily a restaurant that serves piscene foods?"

    "Oh yeah, I know," Ozzie nodded twice, trying not to scout out the doorway that Chip and Dale would have to make it through during the distraction. "But it's like I always say: even prey can use some protein every once in a while, am I right?"

    "Mm," the brown bear hummed in boredom, looking down at the guest list. "What name is your reservation under, sir?"

    "Ah, I'm actually meeting a couple of friends here," Ozzie explained with a small smile. "Should be under Timon or Pumbaa."

    "Mm..." the bear looked over the papers on the podium in front of him. "Oh bother, you don't appear to be on the guest list..."

    "Aheh..." Ozzie smiled broadly. "You sure? Thats T-I-M-O-A-N or P-O-O-M-B-A. Uncommon names, I know."

    The bear mumbled to himself as he looked closer at the guest list. "Let's see here..."

    Ozzie tugged twice at his coat. Recognizing the signal, the two chipmunks quickly deployed from Oswald's coat and scurried over to the doorway. Ozzie tried to keep his attention off them, but couldn't help locking his eyes on them briefly as they rushed into the main area of the restaurant, then immediately began to look casual as they got there, as if they belonged there the whole time.

    "Bother, bother, bother..." the brown bear shook his head and "tsk tsk"ed. "We have no reservations like that at all... though..." the bear smiled slightly. "I don't suppose you have any honey with you? Maybe we could work something out."

    "Honey?" Ozzie's face read both confusion and surprise. "Uh, sorry, fresh out?"

    "Not even a smackerel? That is unfortunate," the bear groaned. Then, he clapped his paws together twice, and from the doorway a slender tiger was summoned.

    "Somethin' the matter, Winnie?" the tiger folded his arms.

    "I do believe this rabbit is trying to bluff his way into our establishment, Tigger," Winnie looked disdainfully at Ozzie, whose nose was twitching even faster from the addition of a tiger to the room.

    "Haha, no no, that's not it at all!" Ozzie grinned nervously, backing up two steps while he held his hands up defensively. "Dh-darn those two guys! They told me we were gonna have lunch here!"

    Tigger approached, pointing down at the black and white rabbit. "Listen, buddy boy, we don't want any funny business here, so why don'tcha take a hike before I have to bounce ya, huh?"

    "Th-that is a great idea!" Ozzie babbled nervously, pointing at the tiger. "I'm leaving right now! I'm going!" Ozzie started to head out the door as Tigger got closer.

    "That's right little rabbit, ta-ta for now," Tigger chuckled, then turned his attention back to Winnie. "Boy, some people, huh?"

    "I know; what a bother," Winnie groaned, as if the incident had taken a lot of energy out of him. He balanced his paw on one of his cheeks and let out a sigh with a tiny moan of dissatisfaction.

    "Do you see them?" Chip scanned the tables, still looking for George Goof after several minutes.

    "Just over there, looks like they're just about to be seated," Dale said quietly, nodding his head in their direction. The two casually fell into step behind George Goof and a rather overweight snow leopard that was following him. George was wearing a suit and lime-green bow tie, and the snow leopard had an unusual style; a purple coat, blue vest, black shirt, and red tie. The two chipmunks were literally and figuratively beneath the notice of the larger predators as they were seated.

    "Gawrsh," George started, his face reading awe as he took in the establishment's decor, "thanks for agreeing to meet me, Mr. Catterwall, but this place is a bit fancy for my sensibilities."

    "Nonsense, Mr. Goof," Patrick Catterwall said in a deep, easy, and encouraging voice. "Ninety percent of sophistication is the attitude." Chip and Dale hid themselves underneath the table as a waitress approached. Chip brought out his phone and started setting it to record. "Ah yes, I'd like the pinot noir, please."

    "Just a water with lemon's fine, thank you," George said.

    "I have to recommend the mahi-mahi, it's simply amazing," Patrick chuckled deeply. "Now, what seems to be your trouble, Mr. Goof?" The coyote looked down at the menu and made a nervous glare at the prices.

    "Well, you said to contact you before I made any major changes to the company," George said carefully. Dale narrowed his eyes and Chip kept his lips pursed. "I'm thinking I might have to let Pete go."

    "Really? Whatever for?" Patrick seemed shocked.

    "Well one of muh business rivals, Ozzie Rodbit... he came into my shop the other day," George scratched at his head. "He was raving about Pete threatening and trying to buy off his employees."

    "That's a bit troubling," Patrick nodded gravely. "However, I wouldn't be too harsh on the poor jaguar. To me it seems like he only wants what's best for the company."

    "What does that mean?" George seemed confused.

    "Well, more employees would be a good thing, for one..." Patrick mused, "but more importantly, so would removing your competition. Why, without his employees, Mr. Rodbit would be forced to close up his shop."

    "How's that good?" George scratched his head again. "I thought a friendly rivalry was good for business."

    "My dear Mr. Goof, all's fair in love and business," Patrick grinned. "Think of it: if Mr. Rodbit were forced out of the auto shop business, you could pick up that amazing plot of land he has in Downtown. It wouldn't take much work to convert it into another Goofy's Gear Guys. Franchising, Mr. Goof! Your business could expand, and we- er, you, would be much better off as far as money-making opportunities are concerned."

    "Huh..." George thought about this. "But what about ol' Ozzie?"

    "Mr. Rodbit will need to fend for himself," Patrick offered a pleasant smile. "When the winds of change blow, little mammals have to take shelter."

    "This sounds pretty... I dunno," George shook his head. He held up his hands in caution. "I just don't want anything underhanded to go on, all right?"

    "Of course not, Mr. Goof, of course not," Patrick chuckled. "You're a respectable mammal with a respectable reputation. We wouldn't want to do anything to ruin that, now would we?"

    "Right, everything should be on the up-and-up!" Goofy smiled.

    "Everything," Patrick agreed. "Would you excuse me, Mr. Goof? I have to use the little kitten's room." Goofy nodded to Patrick's soft chuckle. Before he knew what was happening, Chip noticed Dale start to dash off in Patrick's footsteps.

    "Dale...!" Chip shouted in a whisper, too quietly to be heard. He hesitated just a moment, and more mammals walked between the space separating the table and Patrick's walking. Chip grimaced; if he followed, he'd surely be caught by someone. Heck, he was worried Dale was going to be caught as he casually followed Patrick. Chip held his ground under the table. He didn't like the sound of Patrick Catterwall one bit, and his voice had a quiet, menacing malice that-

    Chip gasped quietly.

    Dale just made it into the bathroom on the same door swing as Patrick, narrowly avoiding being crushed. He scampered over to the largest counter, pressing himself against it and hiding. Patrick looked casually about the bathroom, and seeing it was supposedly empty, he pulled out his phone. Dale frowned and pulled out his own phone, ready to record.

    "This is Catterwall," Patrick said, his voice a shade lower than before, but Dale could still make him out. "We're enacting the first stage of the other plan... that means you're to go to the mouse's house tonight. ...What other mouse have we been talking about, idiot? Gail Hatchetwrench...!" Patrick took another careful look around, and Dale held his throat as he fought the urge to gasp. Dale's careful footsteps avoided Patrick's gaze even as the snow leopard checked around the counter carefully. Dale swiftly scrambled as far back as he could, leaping onto the wall and pressing against it with three of his limbs. Dale barely managed to keep the phone in his hand as it recorded. "Yes. Make it look like an accident. ...I don't care how you do it, fool. Throw her in front of a large car or something. Happens to rodents all the time. Tragic, really. ...Mmhm. No, I won't be doing it myself. How would I get my paws into that tiny creature's apartment?" Patrick began to wash his hands. "Plus, you are aware I'd rather not get my paws dirty if I can help it. Speaking of, make sure you wear gloves."

    Patrick hung up and quickly walked out of the restroom. Dale dropped back to the ground and dashed for the exit, shoving his phone quickly into his coat pocket. He just made it through the door once more, but then he plowed right into the ankle of the snow leopard he was tailing. Chip saw this and his eyes bulged.

    "Oh, my apologies, sir!" Dale said in an amicable voice as Patrick looked down at the rodent.

    "Well, see that you don't do it again," Patrick grumbled, then looked back at the chipmunk. "Rather a strange choice of restaurant for a chipmunk..."

    "We all have to get our protien somehow, sir!" Dale chuckled.

    "Yes, well, I suppose so," Patrick said disinterestedly, and went to sit back down with George. Dale started moving to the exit, gesturing toward it with his head. Chip nodded at him and followed him once he was sure the two predators were involved with conversation again.

    Chip let out a sigh as the two got some distance from Monstro's. "That was too close. Uh, since we're wasting our chance to get more information, please tell me you got something."

    "Uh huh," Dale nodded with focus. "No less than a hit order from Catterwall."

    "That's my brother!" Chip was suddenly exuberant and he hugged onto Dale's side enthusiastically.

    "Uh, half brother?" Dale smirked as he corrected him.

    "Whatever!" Chip released him and then gasped. "Wait- did you say a hit order?"

    "He's after Gail," Dale nodded. "We've got to get to the ZPD ASAP."

    "Right!" Chip nodded, and the two started heading over to the subway entrance. Right before they entered, they were accosted from behind.

    "Hey you two," the voice came out. Both chipmunks shrieked and spun around, only to see Ozzie standing behind them.

    "Sheez, you scared me!" Dale chuckled, trying to get his breathing under control.

    "Sorry," Ozzie shrugged. "You two get anything?"

    "We don't have time to chat," Chip snapped as he started heading into the subway. "There's a crime about to be committed and we've got to tell the police."

    "Only hope they believe us and act on what we have," Dale frowned. "Don't too much like our chances if we have to take matters into our own paws."

    "Well, uh, maybe I could help!" Ozzie followed them downstairs.

    "No offense, Ozzie? I think for your own safety you should probably stay clear of an assassin," Chip said drolly.

    "No no, not that," Ozzie shook his head. "I know a couple of guys at the ZPD. Maybe I could help get you some pull there?"

    "Unlikely, but... what the heck, c'mon and tag along," Chip beckoned. Dale made some hand signs at Chip, revealing the details of what he had heard to his half brother silently, as he didn't want Ozzie or anyone else to realize and cause a commotion. Chip's eyes widened, but he nodded.

    "What's going on there?" Ozzie knit his brow at observing the movements.

    "Uh, private detective stuff; don't worry about it," Chip said with a smile.

    Ozzie was suspicious, but he grumbled and shrugged, nodding. "Huh. Hakuna matata."

    That evening, just outside of Gail's apartment, a mole and a rat looked around before heading toward the door of the apartment. The two were quiet and careful not to be visible through the window.

    "All right, coast is clear, no cops," the mole said, fitting on some gloves.

    "No cops," the rat nodded, putting on some gloves as well. "Just a coupla random mammals. Ain't anyone gonna notice a thing. Aright, I'll get the lock, you get in and get the 'merchandise', and we'll get this over with once we see the nearest car."

    "You wanna run that by me again?" a female voice came from behind them. The two turned and saw a displeased looking gray bunny in casual clothes.

    "Screw off, bunny," the mole gestured flippantly. "Lost my keys to my apartment. Friend here's picking the lock."

    "Wrong answer," the bunny said, flipping out her ZPD badge.

    "What the-!?" the rat and mole recoiled and straightened up instantly.

    The mole turned to the rat. "I thought you said no cops!"

    "How was I supposed to know that bunny was a cop!?" the mole replied.

    "Okay, enough of this," Judy Hopps said, charging at them suddenly.

    Both of the small criminals screamed and retreated further down the alley. The rat started to outpace the mole, but gasped as in the dark he just barely made out a silhouette and two slight green gleams.

    "Wait wait wait wait!" the rat screamed. The mole tried to comply, but inertia carried him into the rat and the two tumbled forward into a cage.

    "Going somewhere, boys?" Nick Wilde closed the door of the cage and fitted a lock onto it. Still in casual clothes himself, he also flashed his badge. "You're under arrest for resisting arrest."

    "Ugh jeez, wait until f-" the mole started. The rat threw a hand over his mouth.

    "Idiot! Don't say anything else until we get a lawyer!" the rat admonished.

    "All right you two, let's get to the ZPD and see what you're doing out so late in front of a mouse's apartment with gloves on," Nick chuckled, hoisting the cage up. "Ugh, you packing some weight in there, mole?"

    "Bite me, fox," the mole muttered.

    Nick clacked his teeth together twice and chuckled in a dark joviality. "Don't tempt me."

    "Ah good, looks like our little plan worked," Judy smiled, seeing Nick's slight struggle at carrying the cage. "What's the matter, Nick, need me to carry that for you?"

    "I'm managing, Carrots," Nick retorted, then chuckled again. "Heh, flush the prey out into a waiting trap; that's some classic pack hunting action there." Nick shook his head. "You sure you weren't a predator in another life, Fluff?"

    "How would I know?" Judy smirked. "Let's get to the ZPD, busters."

    "Who's ever even heard of a bunny cop, anyway?" the rat grumbled, folding his arms.

    "The most wonderful thing about bunny cops is she's the only one," Nick quipped, to Judy's chuckle.

    "That goes for you too, mister fox cop," Judy smirked.

    "Absolutely," Nick laughed.

    By the next afternoon, the criminals had been processed, and there was a small congregation of mammals in the lobby of the ZPD. Judy and Nick were wearing their casual clothes, but had lanyards with their badges displayed. Chip and Dale were also there, as well as Gail and Ozzie, who had to write statements. Detective Oates was present as well, chewing on a piece of straw thoughtfully.

    "Well, looks like the crop of justice has been planted, and the reapers are coming through to carry out the harvest," Oates nodded, folding his arms tightly.

    "What does that even mean?" Ozzie blinked in his bafflement.  

    "Just let him be," Nick held up a cautionary paw. "It's easier that way."

    "Fine work, PIs, thank you for teaming up with us and bringing some righteousness to our fair city," Oates nodded at Chip and Dale and the horse headed off.

    "So can you tell me anything about what happened?" Gail asked with a touch of concern, placing her hands together nervously. "Am I safe?"

    "I'd hope so," Judy said with a gesture of her paw, starting to count on it. "We've got those goons, and thanks to some information I was able to coax from Mr. B-" Nick nudged Judy with his foot, "uh, an acquaintance I have..." Judy looked briefly at Nick. "We also know more about Patrick Catterwall."

    "Anything classified?" Chip wondered, ready to make notes in his phone.

    "Nope," Nick shook his head. "From what we know and can release, Catterwall is a corrupt businessmammal that goes by 'Fat Cat'. He buys into small companies and tries to bully their competitors out of business to expand his investments. When he's done growing a business to where he thinks it'll no longer turn a quick buck, he sells his stake and moves on."

    "Using illegal means to drive legal business, huh?" Dale narrowed his eyes.

    "So... you don't have Catterwall now, do you?" Ozzie looked to the police.

    "Not yet, but there's a warrant for his arrest out now," Judy said. "We'll get his poster all over the evening news and the city. If he shows his 'Fat Cat' face again, we'll nab him."

    "If I were him I'd split town," Nick frowned. "Take the money and run. He may get away yet."

    "Shame," Ozzie kicked at the ground. "But if he splits at least Gail'd be safe from him."

    "Gonna be sleeping with my taser-wrench for the next long while," Gail chuckled nervously. She then looked at the ground. "I don't understand something, though. If Catterwall was the one stalking me, how come he sounded exactly like Pete from Goofy's Gear Guys?"

    "I thought the same thing from when I was shadowing you!" Chip said proudly, holding up his phone. "I ran Patrick's voice through a couple of filters. All I had to do was deepen it a bit and add a bit of gravel, and listen to this!"

    Chip held up his phone and a low voice came out: "Would you excuse me, Mr. Goof? I have to use the little kitten's room." Dale and Nick chuckled at the voice sample Chip selected to share.

    "That does sound just like Pete...!" Gail gasped.

    "Sure enough!" Ozzie marveled, impressed. "A coupla more things don't add up to me, but I'll have to take them up with Mr. Goof himself."

    "Are you sure that's wise?" Gail winced.

    "George Goof checked out from our investigation," Judy shrugged. "He should be clear. Just don't try anything funny yourself, Mr. Rodbit."

    "You want to take my taser-wrench along if you meet him, just in case?" Gail had a tiny smile.

    "Eh, I should be fine," Ozzie shrugged. The mammals thanked each other and started to say goodbye.

    "Oh and Mr. Salsa?" Nick nodded towards Dale and saluted at him, looking over his red Pawaiian shirt. "Can I just say something? I really dig that shirt."

    "Heh! Right back atcha!" Dale pointed a finger-gun at the fox's own green Pawaiian shirt.

    "Ugh!" Chip and Judy both scoffed, rolling their eyes.

    Ozzie blinked in surprise as he approached Goofy's Gear Guys one afternoon. George himself was standing outside of it, slouching, staring up at the facade. His hands were in his pockets, and he had a soft, forlorn look on his face. A "CLOSED" sign hung up in the window.

    "What's goin' on, Mr. Goof?" Ozzie said cautiously, approaching. "What's all this?"

    "Uh, hey there, Mr. Rodbit," George said distantly, barely looking at him. "Just had to close the place down."

    "Really?" Ozzie felt a pang of guilt. "I thought the police said you were okay."

    "Yup, I'm fine," George shook his head. "But uh, Mr. Catterwall owned a huge chunk of my business. He helped me get started and all, and when this all went down he cut off contact from me, withdrew his money and sold off his share of the business somewhere. I can't afford to pay my guys or even myself. Gotta close down."

    "Ugh, that makes me feel really bad," Ozzie said. George looked at him. "I mean it, Goofy. I kinda liked having you as a rival, no lie."

    "Just as well," George grumbled. "Guess it's just bad karma to start a business with a criminal."

    "But... did you know he was a criminal?" Ozzie asked. George shook his head. "Then it ain't your fault! You can... you should- if they ever catch Catterwall you should sue him!"

    "Eh, don't worry about me," George pawed in the air after Ozzie. "I still got muh online videos. I just wanted a honest-to-goodness business, really. Brick and mortar. A place to call muh own, y'know? Just in case I stop being funny online." George chuckled softly. "I've always wondered how hard it'd be to open a lil' candy store, actually. Goofy's Candy Company... how's that?" Ozzie shrugged. "Heh, maybe it'll be less cutthroat than the auto repair business."

    "I mean, to be honest, I didn't know that the auto repair industry was going to be 'cutthroat' at all," Ozzie chuckled nervously, offering a conciliatory shrug.

    "Ah well," George smirked. "It wont be so bad. Muh guys should be okay. Pete is moving back to Hollywool where his family has a marina. And Rizzo..." George looked down, rubbing his muzzle. "I think he said he was gonna go pursue his dream of trying to join a late night ensemble talk show or somethin'."

    "And you'll be okay?" Ozzie had to wonder.

    "I mean, I've got a son to take care of; his name's Max," George said with a small grin. "But we'll be fine; like I said, the ad revenue from the videos will keep us fed."

    "Oh, okay," Ozzie nodded. "So uh... gotta admit I'm kinda worried for you now that Catterwall is still loose."

    "Yeah, the guy was kinda a psycho, huh?" George said with a nervous chuckle. "He even had a hidden camera installed in muh office so he could hear what I was sayin'."

    Ozzie blinked. "That's how he must have known I came in and caused a scene, so then he escalated on Gail. Ugh, this whole mess has been-" Ozzie's brow furrowed "no... it's been no one's fault but that cat's, really."

    George shrugged. "Yeah, pretty much." He rubbed the back of his head." "Kinda feel bad about bein' bamboozled like that, but it's all right. Me and the boy are gonna go do a little cross-country trip to try to put this all behind us. A genuine father-son bonding road trip kinda thing."

    "Oh yeah?" Ozzie smirked, putting his hands in his pockets. "Where are ya headed?"

    "Hollywool, most likely," George tapped his chin. "Nice atmosphere there; it'll be a good place to get away from it all for a little bit. Also, we're gonna try to time it up with that pop star's tour that my son's crazy over so he can seem 'im there. ...What was his name again? Power Strip? Surge Protector...?"

    "Sounds like you've got it all figured out then, Goofy," Ozzie offered his paw cautiously. "You seem like a good guy and a good dad. You have yourself a nice time, and a nice life."

    "Heck, you prob'ly haven't seen the last of me yet, Mr. Rodbit," George grinned, shaking his hand with sudden enthusiasm, then he offered a cheerful "ahyuck".

    "I'll hold you to that!" Ozzie waggled his index finger at George. He started to walk down the street, but turned, his head moving over his shoulder. "Goodbye, Goofy."

    George returned a friendly wave.

Chapter Text

    The days were getting busier for Ozzie and his crew. With Goofy's Gear Guys out of business, traffic picked up nearly twofold at Ozzie's Auto Repair. On one particular day three weeks after the incident, Ozzie wiped his brow as all three of them were working on a car.

    Ozzie reached behind himself to retrieve a wrench, hearing a click as he grabbed hold of its handle. He shrieked as the wrench started to hum and crackle with electricity. His eyes bulged and he winced as he gingerly set it back down. The black and white rabbit let out a small sigh as he slowly processed that he managed to avoid zapping himself.

    "Gail, seriously," Ozzie grumbled, gesturing at the wrench, "could you please leave the Thunderstorm with your stuff? This thing is definitely a workplace hazard."

    "'Thunderstorm'?" Hammond sounded out slowly, cocking his brow.

    "Oops, sorry!" Gail winced apologetically. "Didn't mean to leave it with your tools; guess my scatterbrain is acting up again."

    "You named that weird taser-wrench the 'Thunderstorm'?" Hammond asked again as Ozzie carefully handed the wrench over to her.

    "Of course," Gail smiled. "Yeah, I know it's cheesy, but hey, I'm a geeky mouse. It's what I do." She flourished the wrench and held it at an angle with both hands. "Gail force!"

    "...oh for cryin' out loud," Hammond rolled his eyes, but Ozzie had to shake his head and smirk. The three resumed their work as late afternoon began to set in with the temperature peaking.

    "I coulda hired him," Ozzie muttered suddenly. He wiped his face with a rag and scoffed, tossing it onto a counter. "It never even occurred to me. I coulda hired Goofy and his guys- or at least just Goofy- and we wouldn't be up to our shoulders in work every day."

    "More mouths to feed is more money outta your pocket, Ozzie," Hammond warned.

    "I know that! Who's the miser around here anyway?" Ozzie sucked at his teeth with a smirk. "But I wish people's cars would stop breakin' down! This summer's killin us."

    Gail let out a puff of air and wiped her brow. "It's probably what's killing the cars, too."

    A light-blue truck came rolling up to Ozzie's Auto Repair and stopped.

    "Ah gee, another customer," Ozzie huffed, getting up and looking over the truck. The driver door opened and a familiar gray bunny in a gingham shirt jumped out.

    "Howdy!" Judy greeted.

    "Well! If it ain't Officer Hopps," Ozzie's brow fell and he grinned, planting his paws on his hips. "What seems to be the problem?"

    "She's running a little hot," Judy explained, pointing her thumb at the engine, which seemed to be slightly hissing. Ozzie's ears twitched at hearing this. "I was going to take this thing to Bunnyburrow; it's my dad's. He hasn't exactly been missing it; he has a fleet of the darn things. I figured I should drive it back though, but I dunno if I should with how hot the engine's getting."

    "All right, pop the top and I'll give 'er a look," Ozzie chuckled. "Heh, should have guessed you were from Bunnyburrow."

    "What's that supposed to mean?" Judy knit her brow.

    "Nothin', nothin'," Ozzie smiled, holding his hands up defensively. Once Judy opened the hood, Ozzie grimaced at what was inside. "Oh jeez, you got a crack in your radiator there."

    "And that's... bad," Judy said carefully.

    "I mean, if you don't want to destroy the engine, yeah," Ozzie said. "If you were gonna drive to Bunnyburrow, you'd probably overheat somewhere along the line and get stuck in the middla nowhere."

    "Oof," Judy folded her arms. "That sucks. I'd already made plans to head there this weekend and take along- eh, never mind."

    "Won't take but a little while to fix; we just need the part," Ozzie snapped twice and Gail stopped what she was doing and rushed over to Ozzie. The rabbit held his hand down for her and she jumped onto it, and Ozzie smoothy raised her up to look at the radiator.

    "Golly, that radiator has a huge crack in it," Gail said. "We'll have to replace the whole thing."

    "This is clearly an older Buckwild," Ozzie noted the "buck-teeth" design on the grill. "You think we can get a replacement radiator tout suite?"

    "Sure thing! I'll put in the order now," Gail said, leaping off Ozzie's hand, tucking into a roll as she landed and running over to go clean her paws before she got on her phone.

    Ozzie drew in breath threw his teeth and winced. "You could just wait for me to lower my hand! That always looks like it hurts."

    "Didn't feel a thing!" Gail claimed, washing her hands.

    "So, how are things going?" Judy asked Ozzie.

    "Pretty good, pretty good; busy now that Goofy ain't in business," Ozzie said. "Recently I've even had to beg for some help from-"

    "Ozzie!" a sing-song voice called out as the door to the lobby opened and a black and white cat's head popped out. She was dressed in a soft pink jumpsuit and pink cap with a flower drawn on it. "I've got one of your favorites on hold...!"

    "Oh no, who?" Ozzie's upper lip curled.

    "Finnick," the cat giggled. She grinned broadly as Ozzie let out an increasingly loud frustrated growl. He slapped his forehead, and Judy's shoulders rumbled slightly in amusement. "His van's broken down about ten minutes out. What should I tell him, bunny bee eff?"

    "Hammond, would you mind too terribly much?" Ozzie droned as he angled his head in the pig's direction.

    "Not at all!" Hammond grinned. "Time to see if I can get ol' faithful to crank up." Hammond headed in the direction of his tow truck. "Text me the address, okay Ortensia?"

    "You got it, Hammie," Ortensia smiled. "I'll tell Finnick that we'll tow him."

    "Thanks, babe," Ozzie nodded, and Ortensia closed the door again. Ozzie held up his hands and curled his fingers in anger. "That freakin' fennec, I swear! I'm gonna have to grab him by the collar and tell him just what I need to do to that deathtrap he calls a van. I'm sick of doin' bandage repairs on that thing. We don't got the kinda time to make those patch-up jobs when there's other stuff to be done!"

    "Ooh, don't get too riled around him or he might bite you," Judy flashed a teasing smile, poking in Ozzie's direction with a curled finger.

    Ozzie blinked. "Uh, you know him?" He let out a terse "huh!" as Judy nodded. "Well well. Guess it's a small world after all."

    "Was that your girlfriend?" Judy nodded in the lobby's direction.

    "Sure was," Ozzie nodded and gave a slightly proud grin, then it faltered a bit. "Gail, Hammond and I have to work on cars pretty much all day; we need all claws on deck. They cut Ortensia's hours at her fur salon recently, so I asked if she'd like to work here part time. She don't know a thing about fixin' cars, but she can answer a phone. She ain't bad on the eyes, either."

    "What kind of cat is she?" Judy mused, rubbing her chin. "I've never seen a black and white cat that small."

    "Oh, she's a sand cat," Ozzie shook his head. "She dyed her fur to look like- well, like mine."

    "Aw, that's so sweet!" Judy clapped twice near her face, then laced her fingers and dropped her hands. Gail walked over to the two, decisively putting her phone away.

    "Radiator's ordered, chief," Gail saluted. "Should be here in two days."

    "We'll have that truck ready by the weekend then," Ozzie said. "Thanks, Gail." Gail nodded and left the two.

    "Oh, that soon? Great!" Judy smiled. She started to look pensive. "Hey, I don't suppose you could give me any... relationship advice? Bunny-to-bunny?"

    "Sorry," Ozzie held up a paw. "I can only give advice rabbit-to-bunny."

    Judy's eyes half-lidded. "Oh, whatever. Your girlfriend just called you a bunny."

    "Yeah? Well she can do that if she wants," Ozzie said with a strange, almost defiant tone. Judy chuckled.

    "Okay, okay," Judy rolled her eyes, holding her hands up defensively. "So... how about that advice?"

    "I'm not the greatest with relationship advice," Ozzie shook his head and sighed. "I mean, if you want my complete, honest opinion. I'm no therapist, either. What Ortensia and I got just kinda works. Like, did you see what happened between you and her when she was talkin' to me?"

    Judy frowned. "Uh, no? I must have missed that."

    "Exactly!" Ozzie let out a loud groan. "Ugh, it's such a freakin' relief! Nothing happened! I was sitting here talkin' to a bunny doe and my girlfriend saw me and nothing happened! Cheese us, it's like a breath of fresh air!"

    "What- what are you talking about?" Judy poked an eyebrow up, confused.

    "Well, I've been in a relationship before, with a bunny doe named Fran," Ozzie said hesitantly, hunching his shoulders. His voice lowered and eyes darted left to right as if he feared invoking her name would summon her. "She used to get really jealous when I talked to any other females, and it was even worse if I talked to other bunny does." Ozzie slapped the back of his hand against his other palm. "She'd bop me over the head."

    "Wow, that sounds abusive," Judy blinked. "Why'd you put up with that?"

    "It was high school, I didn't know any better, and she was hot," Ozzie counted on his fingers and gave a guilty half-smile, his shoulders slouching. "But you know what they say about does." He waggled an index finger.

    "'Don't stick your nose in crazy, especially if she makes it twitch'?" Judy repeated a phrase she'd heard quite a few times in her young adult life.

    "Mm, that's the one!" Ozzie squinted his eyes shut and pointed at Judy as if it pained him to hear those words.

    "From what I hear," Gail offered from a ways away, "Ortensia has Ozzie wrapped around her paw just as much as Fran did. But at least Ortensia's a genuine sweetheart."

    "Gail, c'mon, you're killin' me here," Ozzie groaned. Judy smirked.

    "So then, you have some advice on what not to do with a relationship," Judy sounded equal parts teasing and hopeful.

    "I'm not that good at giving advice," Ozzie groaned. "Anything I'm gonna say is gonna sound like a greeting card platitude."

    "C'mon, try me," Judy encouraged.

    "What's this about, anyway?" Ozzie tapped his foot. "You finally hot for that fox partner a'yours?"

    "What? What'd give you that idea?" Judy asked incredulously. Ozzie read her face; she looked somewhat defensive, but he guessed he probably shouldn't press the issue and he shrugged.

    "Be yourself," Ozzie shrugged. "Best thing I can say." He jerked his thumb back to the lobby. "Pretty sure we have a card in the gift store that says that if you want it in writing."

    "I think I can remember that," Judy muttered.

    "I'm serious, though," Ozzie said. "Fran... she always liked pulling me in directions I didn't wanna go. She made me do things when I really would rather have not, she gave me my opinions for me; she made me into like... who she wanted me to be. But... I wasn't really that person, y'know?" Ozzie grumbled wordlessly to himself for a second, rubbing his chin. "I figured it kinda had to be that way, though? Like if I didn't adapt, didn't make her happy, I was gonna lose my girlfriend. And was I ever gonna get anyone like her again if I gave her up? Took me a long time to see she was doing a lot more harm to me than good; once I finally looked past the cute tail. With Ortensia, it's not like that. I still don't wanna disappoint her, and yeah she still likes dragging me along to a buncha stuff, but I feel like I can talk to her about what I really want or don't want."

    "Huh," Judy looked intrigued. Then, she put on a slightly smug look. "And you said your advice wasn't great."

    Ozzie shrugged. "'Sall I can say. If you gotta change who you are to appease your love interest it ain't gonna work."

    "So, just kinda keep doing what I'm doing, huh?" Judy gave a weak smile. "Kinda haven't gotten very far with that, yet."

    "Then maybe it's not meant to be," Ozzie shrugged. "Or, maybe it is, and you just need a catalyst or something so the feelings will come out."

    Judy smiled. "Thanks, Ozzie. I think."

    "Now, I ain't paid to stand here and be a psychologist, so scram!" Ozzie said with a dark grin, folding his arms. "See ya on Friday afternoon, all right?"

    "Gotcha!" Judy returned perkily, and waved. "Bye, Ozzie! Bye, Gail!" She shouted louder. "Bye, Ortensia!"

    Ortensia poked her head out of the store again. "Mrow? I heard my name!" She saw Judy waving at her and waved back exuberantly with a happy smile. "Bye, gray bunny!"

    Ozzie had to smile as the figure of said gray bunny retreated down the street.

    "She seems nice!" Ortensia chirped. Then, her ear twitched as she heard the telltale sounds of Hamm's truck approaching. "Ooh, sounds like Hammie's back!"

    Indeed he was, and he was towing Finnick's van with him.

    Ozzie grumbled, his eyelids lowering. "And here we go."

Chapter Text

    One breezy fall afternoon, Pumbaa had set up at the Hakuna Matata food stand, grilling some grubs. The traffic at Ozzie's Auto Repair led the stand to get a lot of traffic as well, and Ozzie didn't seem to mind if they set up on his corner.

    Pumbaa's jaw dropped a bit as he saw a box moving toward him, just a little bit larger than Timon.

    "Ugh!" Timon set down the box and leaned on it. "Phew..."

    "I coulda helped you with that, Timon," Pumbaa said earnestly. "You should have told me it was gonna be such a big box."

    "S'all right, big guy," Timon pat the box twice. "You would not believe the hoops I had ta jump through to get my paws on this baby. Just goes to show ya Pumbaa, it's not what you know, it's who you know."

    "What is it?" Pumbaa's voice had a small sprinkle of wonder.

    Timon flashed a bright grin and held up his index claw, opening the box's top with an excited slash. Inside was a small treasure trove of red sauce packets. "Firefly sauce."

    "Really?" Pumbaa seemed even more surprised. "Is that from Bug Burga? I thought they discontinued that stuff a year or two ago."

    "Exactly; s'why it's so hard ta get a hold of," Timon nodded. "Most outrageous corporate decision I ever heard of. Don't worry though, this stuff has enough preservatives to still be good." He chuckled and gestured flippantly at the box with both of his open hands. "This stuff is gonna make our business explode, Pumbaa, I'm tellin' you. We should charge by the packet!" He started gesturing dramatically and speaking emphatically. "It's salty! It's tangy! It's spicy! It's just the best sauce my tongue's ever had the pleasure of tastin'!" He kissed his fingers. "Bone apple teeth!"

    "Uh, I think that's 'bon appetit', Timon," Pumbaa tapped his cheek thoughtfully.

    "Eh, whatever," Timon flicked both of his hands dismissively. "Just rotten luck no one's come up with a knock-off brand yet, I mean c'mon! Sauce this tasty and popular? Hello!" He rubbed the fingers of one paw together. "That's money to be made!"

    "I dunno, Timon," Pumbaa looked to the side cautiously, "that stuff always gave me gas."

    "Pumbaa," Timon's eyes half-lidded, "everything gives you gas."

    "Hello there, gentlemammals!" a coyote wearing an orange shirt and black vest said, walking up to the two. "Smells good!"

    "Ah, hello there-" Timon started, looking up at the coyote. "What, no way. This is- you're GoofyGoof?"

    "Sure am, ahyuck!" George chuckled. "That's muh Ewetube channel. Caught a few of my videos?"

    "Only all of em!" Timon grinned. "Your comic timing is amazing. Love it." George gave a humble bow.

    "A pleasure to meet you, sir!" Pumbaa greeted loudly and cheerfully.

    "Could we interest you in a grubfurter?" Timon said, crawling onto the stand and pointing out their menu.

    "Well sure! I am gettin' a bit hungry," George said, pointing at a large yellowish grub. "That one looks good!"

    "You got it!" Pumbaa said, starting to grill it and getting a bun ready.

    "I don't suppose we could interest you in any firefly sauce?" Timon grinned sleazily. "Only fifty cents extra!"

    "Oh thanks, but no thank you," George waved his hand, then placed it on his stomach. "That stuff upsets muh tummy."

    "Unbelievable," Timon muttered in a spacey voice. George paid for the food and started to eat.

    "Mm-mm, that is a good grub!" George smiled in satisfaction.

    "Well, if the great GoofyGoof says so, who am I to disagree?" Timon closed his eyes and pat his chest in faux humility. The meerkat's eyes caught sight of a pastel ice cream truck rolling out of Ozzie's Auto Repair. "What the...?"

    "Everything should be good to go there," Ozzie walked out and shrugged. "I mean, I still kinda feel like you're pranking me, but it's all set up just like you described it."

    A fennec's head poked out of the van, and he began to speak in a deep, throaty voice. "Naw, it's all good! Hot dang, I can't wait to try this out!" The fennec reached for the audio controls.

    "Yeah, just-" Ozzie held up his forefinger, his ears preemptively folding back. The fennec cranked up the volume and a bizarre mix of a rap song and ice cream truck jingle came blaring out.

    "Yeez!" Timon put his paws over his ears. George flinched and Pumbaa stood there dumbfounded.

    "Ha ha! That's the stuff!" the fennec raved. "Now you come by your old Uncle Finnick if you want some ice cream, a'right?" The ice cream van peeled out and drove off into the distance.

    "With that racket, he shouldn't be too hard to find," Timon quipped.

    "I don't think I'll ever understand that mammal," Ozzie hung his head and shook it. He noticed the Hakuna Matata stand and padded over with a slightly surprised expression. "Oh, hey Goofy."

    "Howdy there, Mr. Rodbit!" George greeted, finishing off his food.

    "Just Ozzie's fine," Ozzie insisted.

    "Ooh, ooh!" Pumbaa started to look extra enthusiastic. "Mr. Rodbit sir!" The warthog saluted. "I've encountered seventeen separate black jaguars since the time you asked us to look!"

    Ozzie cringed. "Oh uh... that little matter was resolved a while ago. Th-thanks for looking."

    "Gee, woulda been nice if you'd come and told us," Timon folded his arms.

    "Yeah, that's my fault," Ozzie grumbled. "Hey, let me make it up to you; I'll buy a small grubfurter to try. Jh-just a small one."

    "Coming right up!" Pumbaa chirped. "I had fun playing lookout anyway, so it's no big deal! I feel like nothing can get by me now!"

    George put a hand up near his mouth and said in a loud whisper: "And here's where I'd have muh ol' jaguar friend Pete walk right behind 'im if I was doin' a video."

    Ozzie and Timon both instinctively peered behind Pumbaa at this, but there were no black jaguars.

    "What?" Pumbaa blinked, also looking behind himself.

    "Ahyuck!" George slapped at his knee. "Don't worry, I don't do candid stuff!"

    "Care for a little firefly sauce with your little deviant delicacy?" Timon wiggled his eyebrows.

    "Firefly sauce?" Ozzie's lip curled up. "What, are you tryin' to kill me? That stuff's disgusting!"

    "What is wrong with these mammals!?" Timon shrieked, throwing his hands in the air and looking skyward as if he was appealing to a higher power.

    "Here you are, sir!" Pumbaa declared. "One small grubfurter!"

    "Thanks," Ozzie said dubiously, paying for it. "Well, here goes." He gestured with the food at George. "Expanding my horizons, take one." He took a bite into it and chewed thoughtfully. The taste was indescribable to him, and not in a good way. He shivered in revulsion.

    "Ah? Ah?" Timon had an open-mouthed grin and leaned up to look at Ozzie. "How is it? Slimy, yet satisfying?"

    Ozzie coughed. "Slimy, at least...! Ugh!" He shivered again. "Maybe it's an acquired taste?" He went to the nearest trash can to throw it away. "Sorry, just can't eat that, urk..." Ozzie looked a touch woozy.

    "I'm only mildly insulted; at least you paid for it," Timon said dryly, defiantly squeezing some firefly sauce onto a grubfurter of his own and eating it. "Mm-mm! I mean, this stuff is amazing! Uh?" He looked up at Pumbaa, who shrugged and nodded.

    "Uh, Goofy?" Ozzie looked hesitant; he jerked his thumb away from the food stand, "do you think we could do a walk n' talk kinda thing?"

    "Sure, don't see why not," George shrugged his shoulders and put his hands in his pockets. He gave a small wave at the two salesmammals and walked with Ozzie.

    "Just around the block or so," Ozzie sighed, gathering his thoughts. "I uh... so- so how'd the trip go? With your kid? Max, was it?"

    "Uh huh," George nodded rapidly and smiled. "It was just swell. There was a little friction between the two of us, but y'know, he's just at that age when there's nothin' his dad can do to be cool. Even if he's an internet celebrity! Ahyuck!"

    "Izzat right?" Ozzie's brow furrowed. "Uh, how's the internet gig, anyway?"

    "Oh, I'm still doing okay," George looked like he was thinking. "Went down a few subscribers recently; I hope my style of humor's not on it's way out." George chuckled placidly. "Max says I might have to resort to somethin' called 'clickbait' to get more viewers, but I dunno, sound's kinda fishy to me."

    Ozzie's mouth dropped open and he was going to force a laugh, but he didn't know if it was actually meant to be a joke or not. "Listen, I gotta say I regret not hirin' you earlier when I had the chance."

    "What? Yeah?" George looked surprised.

    "Yeah," Ozzie groaned, pointing at his shop with his thumb. "Truth is we could use a congenial character like you at the shop. Ortensia's pleasant, but she doesn't know a thing about cars, so when people start talking shop to her, she glazes over and gets nervous; has to call for our help. Gail's nice but she has trouble talking to people of below-average intelligence in ways they can understand. Hammond knows what he's doing, but I think his picture's in the dictionary under 'lackadaisical'. And that leaves me, and well, you know how I am."

    "Aw, you're all right, Ozzie," George smiled, "just a little rough 'round the edges!"

    "To put it kindly," Ozzie kicked at the ground with his foot. "Anyway, I was just gonna say, I- uh... well if you wanted to come work with us, I wouldn't... wouldn't be opposed to it."

    "Really?" George's smile brightened and his brow lifted. He chuckled. "Well I dunno, I'd have to think about it."

    "Yeah, of course," Ozzie sucked his teeth. "I mean, I know this is rich comin' from your rival and all, but- eh, I dunno. Just putting it out there."

    "Would I get to wear one of those neat colored jumpsuits?" George nodded at Ozzie's blue jumpsuit. "Kinda like how you all got a different color. Maybe I could have orange?" He pointed at his shirt.

    "Orange?" Ozzie raised an eyebrow. "What, you wanna look like an escaped convict?"

    "Oh!" George considered this. "Ahyuck! Maybe not. Maybe a light green'd do."

    "I'll see what I can do, big guy," Ozzie sighed with a small smile.

    "Now, I'm not commitin' to nothin' just yet," George warned with a perfunctory finger raised.

    "Course not, course not," Ozzie shook his head. "Just... you got my number in case you wanna do anythin', yeah?"

    "Uh huh," George nodded, but then started to look melancholy. "Feels weird that you'd think about hiring me so soon after that whole mess with Patrick Catterwall. Still kinda feel bad about that," George winced; his voice was quiet.

    "No problem; just a hazard of having a dishonest business partner," Ozzie said confidently, then drove his thumb into his chest. "And as mine, I can guarantee I'm gonna be a miserly grump, so I'll just lay that out on the table right now!" Ozzie chuckled, splaying his arms out.

    "Oh, c'mon, Ozzie!" George's voice raised jovially. "You gotta work on that self-esteem, if nothin' else!"

    "Maybe you can be our cheerleader, then," Ozzie said, then furrowed his brow at how strange that phrase sounded.

    "You'll need to work on your lines, too," George offered. Ozzie chuckled. They had made a lap around the block and were now approaching Timon and Pumbaa again.

    "I guess I'll see you when I see ya, Goofy. I should get back to the shop before my minions get on me for slackin' off. I swear I don't know who's in charge sometimes," Ozzie shrugged and shook his head. He then offered his paw, which George shook enthusiastically. Ozzie fought for his balance and grinned. "Who knows what the future holds, huh?"

    "Who indeed?" George smiled. "Catch ya sooner or later, Ozzie."

    Ozzie framed George with his paws as he walked off into the sunset.

    "And scene," Ozzie said serenely, grinning and dropping his hands.

    "Aw, that was nice!" Pumbaa commented loudly. "Are you two gonna start workin' together?"

    Ozzie frowned. "I said 'scene'! That means the end! Finito! No more talkin'!"

    "Yeah, good luck with that," Timon smirked at him. Ozzie threw his hand up dismissively and headed back to his shop.

Chapter Text

    "And just cause of that series of unlikely events," George explained, waggling his wrench, "I ended up on stage with Powerline!"

    George chuckled, continuing to work on the medium-sized car with Gail and Hammond. He wore a lime-green jumpsuit and had his attention mostly focused on the engine.

    "No way!" Gail was perched on the driver's-side rear-view mirror of the car, leaned in. "What happened next?"

    "Well, muh mind just kinda went blank!" The coyote pointed to his head. "But then I heard muh son shout out 'Dad! Do the perfect cast!"

    "The perfect cast!" Hammond chuckled. "You didn't!"

    "Yup, shore did," George grinned, nodding. "Ahyuck! The very same moves from muh video 'how to do the perfect cast'. Just, without the fishin' rod n' all!"

    "I love that video!" Gail exclaimed brightly, clasping her paws together. "The juxtaposition of the absurd motions and the fact that you actually catch a fish in the same cut!"

    "Took a lot of tries, that one did!" George smiled, pointing over at Gail.

    "Juxta- Gadget, you're analyzing a comedy video over here?" Hammond smirked with an eyebrow raised. Gail responded with a guilty, toothy smile and a shrug. "So, when did security drag you off stage, Goofy?"

    "Not until it was too late," George chuckled. "That Powerline guy was actually into it and started doing the moves too!"

    "What? No way!" Hammond laughed.

    "Ahuh!" George nodded rapidly. "You can see it all on Ewetube if you'd like!"

    Ozzie suddenly entered the shop, slamming the door to the lobby, a scowl on his face.

    "As much as we all enjoy our entertaining new co-worker, maybe we should stay focused on our tasks and resist the temptation to go look at internet videos," Ozzie grouched as he stormed over to the car and began to assess the vehicle's situation.

    "Jeez, Ozzie," Hammond said dryly, "you're not your usual ray of sunshine. Look kinda partly-cloudy to me."

    "Partly cloudy, eh?" Ozzie narrowed one eye. He rotated his hand at the wrist. "You wanna keep going with that metaphor, or...?"

    "Uh oh, now he's gettin' overcast," Hammond droned. Ozzie scowled at him. "Okay, okay, I'm done."

    "Somethin' wrong, Ozzie?" George looked down at the cross-looking black rabbit.

    "Ugh, just a customer," Ozzie spat the word out. He flicked a hand up in annoyance. "He was yellin' at poor Ortensia because she didn't know how to fix his problem, then when I came to bail her, he started yelling at me because I wasn't explain' it quick enough for 'im."

    "That's awful," Gail frowned.

    "Some people," Hammond agreed.

    Ozzie sucked at his teeth and tightly folded his arms. "Can't believe a tiger would yell at a little sand cat like that. They're both felines, for cryin' out loud! Predators sometimes, I swear." Ozzie flinched and looked up. "Uh, no offense, Goofy."

    "None taken," Goofy gave a gentle smile and nodded diagonally. "Yuh manage to get rid of him?"

    "Yeah," Ozzie said, tapping his foot rapidly then stomping it. "Ugh. I hated it. Made me look weak in front of Ortensia. Not like I could do anything to a tiger, but... y'know..." Ozzie sighed. "Just had to stand there with this stupid look on my face." Ozzie pointed to himself, making a transparently irritated smile. "Shoulda snapped at him and told him to take a hike. This is my shop."

    "Bein' in customer service sure ain't all its cracked up to be," Hammond shrugged, nodding. "Did I ever tell ya I used to work at a toy store?" Ozzie shook his head. "True story! Mammal alive, on the holiday rushes it was like everyone went feral! Slippery mammals sneaking toys and electronics out of other people's carts and into their own, large mammals bowling over smaller ones to get what they want. Brings out the worst in people."

    "Got that right," Ozzie waggled an index finger at him. "And a service like ours is hygienic. Ain't nobody gonna praise you for doin' a good job, but if you do wrong, by golly they'll tell you about it." Ozzie huffed in annoyance. "I... was thinkin' of letting Ortensia go."

    "What? Why?" Gail perked up in concern, leaping to the windshield of the car.

    "Gadget, you know she's not really qualified...!" Ozzie held out his hands to her. "I gave her the job so she could get a little extra income by workin' the register, not sit there and get yelled at by ingrates. I figure if I let her go I could still just give her some money to help make ends meet..."

    "With all due respect," Gail frowned, her brow lowering, "maybe you should discuss that with her before you make a rash decision."

    "Listen Gadget, I know you like standing up to me," Ozzie gave a tiny smile, "but Oretnsia's a bit more delicate. I don't want her putting up with that kind of abuse."

    "Adversity builds character," Gail insisted, "at least ask her if she wants an out before you fire her!"

    "Okay," Ozzie groaned, rolling his eyes. "Just hope she's not too polite to throw in the towel if she really can't take it..."

    "Yeow, you seein this, Goof?" Hammond chuckled. "That rabbit's been whipped by a tiny mouse."

    "I'll be," George chuckled.

    "Hamm, I'm right here," Ozzie complained, rubbing his forehead. "Ugh, hope this 'weather' clears up soon..."

    "Maybe I can help brighten the forecast!" George held up an index finger and smiled. He then shifted into a secretive whisper, holding a hand up to the side of his muzzle. "I heard some interestin' gossip when I was in Hollywool."

    "Do tell!" Hammond replied enthusiastically.

    "They say that a certain famous mouse is in town workin' on a movie in Little Rodentia," George continued in a loud whisper.

    "What?" Ozzie's eyes flew open. "Oh crud, when it rains, it pours! You don't mean... Morty McMouse!?"

    "Uh, I mean, that's what he used to be called, ahyuck!" George chuckled. "But yeah, Mickey Mouse! Can ya believe it? I wonder if his car will break down; maybe we could work on it!" George suddenly looked shocked. "Oh, that might not be too nice to wish misfortune on the little guy."

    "Ugh..." Ozzie looked like he was deflating. "That's all I'd need. Mort- er, 'Mickey' and I were friends in high school. We were almost like brothers, up until he left for college to- where was it..."

    "No kiddin'!?" George suddenly looked excited. "Well, ya won't believe this, but ol' Mick and I were buddies in Disney University!"

    "Get outta town!" Ozzie's brow lowered. "It is a small world after all..." The rabbit huffed in annoyance. "So, he ditch you too, then?"

    "What do you mean?" George blinked.

    "I mean... do you want to be doing this, George?" Ozzie grit his teeth. He held his arms up and made one spin of his body. "All of this? You went to Disney University to... what, I'm guessing for the arts, right?"

    "Ahuh..." George nodded. "I mean, I'm still doin' things I enjoy! I think the degree helped with muh Ewetube vids n' all."

    "But... but..." Ozzie desperately gestured to Gail. "Gadget... you wanted to be a private investigator, right?"

    "I did," Gail nodded. "But-"

    "And Hamm!" Ozzie looked to Hammond. "I... don't actually know what you wanted to do."

    "Eh!" Hammond shrugged.

    "What are you getting at, Ozzie?" Gail tilted her head.

    "I mean, doesn't it feel like we all just compromised, and now we're here?" Ozzie slowly clenched his hands into fists. "With me... I wanted to be an actor too... but there was that fall out between Mort- er, Mickey and I's dads... one went one way and the other went another. I feel like I got thrown this destiny just because it was my heritage, y'know?"

    "You don't like it, Ozzie?" George scratched his head. "Y'always seem so jazzed to work on cars to me..."

    "Ugh, it's not that I don't like it...!" Ozzie grit his teeth, gesturing rapidly in vague frustration, looking up at George. "It's just... I wonder what could have been, y'know? George, you and I could have been movie stars! Gail could be a PI! Hammond could... be doing something else! Instead we're all here, doin' menial things for customers who barely appreciate us."

    "So you're jealous of Mickey," Gail said plainly, folding her paws.

    "Darn right I am," Ozzie half-frowned. "Guy is rolling in dough; he's the most popular mouse actor in the whole dang world! He's got a starlet for a wife, and more money than he could spend in a lifetime!"

    "I wouldn't go envyin' the little mouse too much, Ozzie," Hammond said in a cautious voice. "Celebrities have their own problems. I know I wouldn't wanna be in the public eye all the time, 'specially if I was that small! Imagine what a nightmare Mickey and his wife have to go through every day when they're hounded by paparazzi-" Hammond blinked at his choice of words. "Ooh, 'hounded'? Didn't mean anything by that, Goofy."

    "Didn't think ya did," George smiled, replying with a nod.

    "We all pay the price of what we're doing one way or another," Gail dangled her feet off the side of the hood of the car. "Some more than others, and some more obviously than others. Are you really unhappy, Ozzie?"

    "I don't think so..." Ozzie grumbled.

    "We may work like dogs- ...uh, no offense, me," George chuckled, "but sometimes I think that work's its own reward. I kinda like when muh fur's messed up enough that no one notices I'm GoofyGoof when I'm workin' on their cars. Feels more honest, ya know?"

    "If I was a PI, I'm sure my life would be a lot more stressful," Gail ran a hand through her hair.

    "And if I was somewhere else, I wouldn't be here!" Hammond added cheerfully.

    "Thanks guys, I think," Ozzie half-smiled.

    "Yeah, don't let that mean ol' Mickey get you down," Hammond chuckled.

    A few minutes later, a very small car started to pull into the garage. It was a red Mousetang with black trim and silver rims. Oswald thought he could make out two forms in the rodent-sized car, and then he did a double take as it parked and its driver headed out.

    "...Jeez Louise... speak of the devil..." Ozzie said breathlessly. Gail blinked in surprise and Hammond started to chuckle. The occupant was a small black mouse with a predominantly white face; quite snappily dressed with a coat and slacks. He had an earnest expression on his face which only brightened when he took in the garage's occupants.

    "Goofy?" The mouse took in a sharp breath. "And Oswald! Aha! Oh gosh, I'm so glad to see ya!"

    "Ahyuck!" George slapped at his leg. "Well look who it is! If it ain't the main mouse himself. Mickey Mouse!"

    "I was really hopin' to catch ya here, Oswald!" Mickey smiled sincerely, placing his hands together. "Gee, I've got a feeling this is just gonna be a swell day!" He pumped one of his arms enthusiastically.

    "Yeah, 'swell'," Ozzie put on a clearly fabricated smile.

Chapter Text

    "Mmm, a 2015 Mousestang," Gail had a glassy-eyed smile, walking over to the mouse-sized car and hovering her hands over its hood. "How momma'd love to get her mousie mitts on this... ah... you did bring it in for a checkup, right...?"

    "Actually, I'm pretty sure its fine, ahaha..." Mickey rubbed behind his head sheepishly.

    "Aw..." Gail frowned, snapping her fingers. Turning her head, she flinched as the other occupant of the car got out and giggled. "Oh, golly. H-hi there!"

    "Oh, hello there!" The mouse smiled, her voice gentle and sweet. She had a conservative red and white dress on with a big red bow sitting between her ears.

    "Everyone, this is Minerva Mouse, or Minnie for short!" Mickey held his hand out toward his wife, who gave a little curtsy.

    "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Mouse!" Hammond tipped his baseball cap.

    "Hey there Minnie! Haven't seen you since the wedding!" George waved lazily.

    "Hello, Goofy!" Minnie smiled brightly, waving above her head, getting on her tip-toes to do so.

    "Right, ah, Mort- er, Mickey," Ozzie stammered, his brow threatening to fall, "I don't suppose you'd mind if you and I had a talk in my office. Alone?"

    "Of course not, Oswald!" Mickey nodded. "I've been hopin' to catch up with ya."

    Ozzie opened the door to the lobby and his pupils shrank at what he saw inside. His girlfriend, wearing her little pink jumpsuit, was arguing with a black and white rabbit in trendy lime green clothes.

    "Oh come on..." Ozzie slapped his face and let it slough off.

    "I am not telling you where Ozzie is, so-" Ortensia flinched as she caught sight of Ozzie walking up to her. "Ozzie!"

    "Finally!" Francine Cottontail shoved her hands into her hips. "I knew this stupid cat knew where you were. Now-"

    "Out of my shop," Ozzie enunciated darkly.

    "Excuse me!?" Francine sneered. "You think you can cut me out of your life that easily!?"

    "Francine, get out," Ozzie repeated firmly. "I reserve the right to refuse service to anyone. You're taking up space in my shop. Leave."

    "How rude!" Francine fumed, balling her fists up. "You think you're going to make it with this brainless cat!? Be my guest!"

    "Leave or I'll call the cops!" Ozzie shouted, getting up in her face. "I know a couple of 'em, so think twice about comin' back, too!"

    Francine sneered, but eventually stood down and fled the store. Ozzie sighed heavily, his angry demeanor leaking out.

    "Oh, goodness!" Minnie said, a hand to her mouth.

    "Thanks for getting her off my tail, Ozzie," Ortensia said softly, the sand cat placing her hands on his shoulders. "She's a mean ol' bunny."

    "Freakin' can't believe this," Ozzie groaned, his head sagging a little. "S'like all of my past demons decided today'd be a great day for a party."

    "Ahaha..." The bottoms of Mickey's eyes came up and he held out an index finger. "Gosh... is this- is this a bad time, Oswald...?"

    "He's normally not like that," Gail shook her head vehemently.

    "Yeah, that bunny broad had it comin'," Hammond nodded in agreement. "She's been harassin' Oz for a long time."

    "Shucks..." Goofy scratched at his head.

    Ortensia blinked at the newcomers to the room. "Oh my goodness! Mickey Mouse! Minerva Mouse!?" She brightened considerably. "The movie stars!? What an amazing treat! It's so great to meet you! I'm Ortensia, Ozzie's girlfriend!"

    "Ohoho..." Minnie laughed sweetly. "It's nice to meet you too, Ortensia!"

    "Mickey, my office?" Ozzie pointed in the direction. With a hint of caution, Mickey obliged and followed him in.

    Ozzie shut the door softly and looked down at Mickey. The rabbit looked very tired and his face was in a firm line.

    "So, 'Mickey Mouse', huh?" Ozzie shrugged weakly. "That what they're callin' you now?"

    "Yeah," Mickey nodded. "I took the 'Mc' from 'McMouse' and turned it into Mickey. It's more marketable that way."

    "More 'marketable'?" Ozzie's brow piqued.

    "Yeah, ahaha..." Mickey rubbed behind his head. "Mort in some languages means 'death'. Can you imagine? Dead Mouse?"

    "I guess with a brand as international as yours, you have to be pragmatic," Ozzie rolled his eyes. He wandered over to his desk and offered to lift Mickey onto it. Mickey cautiously accepted, then Ozzie grumbled and slumped into his chair. "So, why did you come here, Mickey?"

    "I told ya, I just wanted to catch up with you, like ol' times," Mickey held his hands out low, near his hips.

    "It's been a really long time, Mort- er, Mickey," Ozzie sucked at his teeth. "I haven't got much of the idea that you really cared about me."

    "Th-that's not true!" Mickey wrung his hands. "I do!"

    "Do you?" Ozzie frowned, scooting his chair back a little. "Or were you too busy takin' the whole world by storm? And it's not even movies anymore, is it? You were what, motion-capture from that one game where you're-" Ozzie waved his fist around, "fighting those darkness guys with a key sword or something? Kingdom Hearts?"

    "Ah, keyblade..." Mickey's eyes found a corner of the desk to look at.

    "You've got action figures that're taller than you!" Ozzie sneered. "You've got enough money to buy a new Mousestang every time you run out of gas!"

    "But I don't have any time, Oswald..." Mickey looked up at the rabbit, trying to meet his eyes. "I don't have any time. I- I couldn't make it to Goofy's wife's funeral, and I felt so awful about that. Then it was one thing after another. I've got so many projects I'm workin' on at any given time..."

    "You want me to feel sorry for you? Mr. Multi-Millionare Mouse?" Ozzie sneered. He pounded a fist on his desk, making Mickey jump slightly. "Always giving those big grins for the paparazzi? Telling talk shows how great your life is?"

    "Oswald, I'm an actor," Mickey placed a hand to his chest. "I act. Even for those guys, I just tell 'em what they wanna hear. I've- I've barely got enough time for my wife, and I have twice as many projects going as she does. We're almost never home at the same time unless we're both on a movie together. It's- it's a mess, Oswald..."

    "So you're never in want for work, and that's supposed to-" Ozzie glowered at Mickey.

    "Oswald!" Mickey's brow furrowed, throwing a hand upward. "What do you want me to say? I'm sorry for succeeding? I'm sorry I have no time for anyone!?"

    "Ever since our fathers drifted apart, things changed between us, huh?" Ozzie grit his teeth. "You told me I could be a good actor. I believed in you. But look at where I am, huh? Look at it. What's this- I'm just doin' the same thing my father did, and his father before him. Slave to tradition. Ain't nothin to be proud of, is it? I'm gonna be a footnote in the credits of someone's history, and you're getting top billing!"

    "What is it with you?" Mickey frowned, putting his hands on his hips and cocking his head. "'He who dies with the most toys wins!?' It's- it's not about that!"

    "What is it about then, Morty? What?" Ozzie leaned down, his face nearing Mickey's.

    Mickey paused, his face weakening. "...How's your dad? Walter Rodbit?"

    "Uh?" Ozzie blinked, sitting back in his chair. "He's hangin' in there, kickin' around. Enjoying his retired life."

    "Mine's gone, Oswald," Mickey frowned. "No more Walter McMouse."

    "What!?" Ozzie's eyebrows flew up. "I didn't- I didn't hear about that!"

    Mickey shook his head. "It's like that with mice, Oswald. My father had big dreams. He was gonna- he was planning some sort of community. Like a- like what did he call it? An experimental prototype community of tomorrow, or something."

    "A whassit...?" Ozzie blinked.

    "It was gonna be a plan for a great city, like Zootopia," Mickey said, his paws splaying out from each other. "A centralized city designed to accommodate all sorts of mammals. It would have been swell, I bet. But it just takes one little thing, and-" Mickey snapped, "a mouse is out of the picture. No matter how great we dream, or how high we climb, we're still just mice."

    "But you got yourself a legacy, Mickey," Oswald said solidly. "People will be talkin' about you centuries after you're gone!"

    "Yeah?" Mickey rubbed at an ear in a mixture of sadness and irritation. "What good does that do me? ...I'm thinking of scaling back my work, Oswald. Doing something different. Maybe try to carry on my father's work. I dunno if I'm good enough to invent a whole city. Maybe I could fund-raise a theme park or somethin' instead."

    "Huh..." Ozzie scratched at his head. "Didn't know you were anything but happy, Mickey."

    "No one does, except Minnie," Mickey frowned. "After I missed Goofy's wife's funeral, we kinda drifted apart, like you and me. I don't- I mean, don't you have a fulfilling life, Oswald? I used to consider you my best friend, then it was Goofy. But I know I haven't been good enough to be either of those." Mickey sighed. "But look at you, huh? You get to hang out with my friend all day, right? Your co-workers seem to like you. You've got a swell-lookin' girlfriend..."

    "And a not-so-swell ex..." Ozzie huffed.

    "Point is..." Mickey looked down, then back at Ozzie. "I'm finally starting to get that it isn't the destination, but the journey. We can head off into tomorrow all we want, but it's always just going to be a fantasy. The real frontier... it's right here in the present. And if we miss out on that, well, then life's adventure has just passed us by, hasn't it?"

    "Heh, when'd you get so philosophical?" Ozzie chuckled.

    "Haha..." Mickey grinned. "Let me do somethin' for ya, Ozzie. Let's all go out to dinner. You, me, the girls, Goofy... gosh, even your co-workers. Let's all just get to know each other, huh?"

    "Sounds pretty good," Ozzie said, half-smiling. "Okay, Mickey, I'm game."

    "Swell," Mickey smiled.

    Ozzie came out of his office, stretching and with a blank look on his face. Gail and Hammond looked at him with some measure of concern.

    "All right guys, we're closin' up shop early today," Ozzie declared, slapping his paws together and rubbing them.

    "Huh?" Gail blinked.

    "I'm all for an early release," Hammond narrowed his brow, "but I kinda need the money!"

    "I'll still pay you for the full shift, don't worry," Ozzie waved his hand. "Oh, and anyone that wants to come out to eat with the Mouses- uh, Mouses? Mice? Mousen? ...well, they're free to come along."

    "Sure are!" Mickey nodded, pumping his arm in confirmation as he stood near Ozzie.

    "What, seriously?" Gail blinked. "Golly! Uh, uh... can I go home and change?"

    "Sure! I'm making reservations at 9 PM at Monstro's!" Mickey said, working with his tiny phone.

    "Sounds like a good time; count me in!" Hammond said casually.

    "Monstro's!?" Ozzie blinked. "Oof, that might take some explaining..."

    "What do ya mean, pal?" Mickey blinked up at Ozzie.

    "Oh, don't worry, I'm sure you'll be able to bail me out if anything odd happens," Ozzie had a bright, though nervous smile, to which Mickey looked perplexed.

    "Ooh, Monstro's huh?" George chuckled. "Ahyuck! Well sure, they did have some good fish there!"

    "This will be fun!" Minnie clapped twice.

    "I gotta change too!" Ortensia said enthusiastically. "And so do you, Ozzie! We can't go out to eat with you lookin' like you've been under a car all day!"

    "I mean, that's where I have been..." Ozzie smiled sheepishly. Genuine laughter filled the lobby. Ozzie smiled gently, giving a relaxed sigh.

    Ozzie's Auto Repair was empty. Ozzie locked the shop up and walked away from it. He stood at the edge of the sidewalk and folded his arms, smiling up at the sign that displayed the establishment's name. The sun was setting on the day.

    "Ah, beautiful, isn't she?" Timon walked up to Ozzie and he leaned on the rabbit's side.

    "The heck?" Ozzie flinched as he felt the meerkat.

    "Ozzie's Auto Repair," Timon wistfully read out, holding his hand up and moving it across the air. "Like a dream come true."

    "What are you talking about, Timon?" Ozzie asked, baffled.

    "It's a nice building!" Timon exclaimed, moving off of Ozzie. Pumbaa walked over, his usual jovial smile and squinting eyes on display.

    "Heya, Timon, Ozzie!" Pumbaa waved. "I just put our cart up. What's going on?"

    "Just lookin' at Ozzie's fine establishment here," Timon smirked. "One day, Pumbaa. One day you an' I will have a place like this to call our own."

    "Yeah, that'd be great!" Pumbaa nodded enthusiastically. "Our own restaurant!"

    "Thinkin' too small, Pumbaa," Timon closed his eyes and shook his head, holding out two fingers. "A chain. A franchise! We'll be famous!"

    Ozzie looked at his shop, looking somewhat sentimental. Pumbaa noticed Ozzie and gave a tiny smile.

    "It's an old building, right?" Pumbaa asked. Ozzie nodded. "You'd never be able to tell since it got painted. I like the white, black and blue color scheme!"

    "Doesn't seem a bit... narcissistic?" Ozzie pointed at himself.

    "Not at all!" Timon shrugged.

    "Not a lot of reassurance coming from you, to be honest," Ozzie smirked. "Hey, either of you want to go to Monstro's?"

    "Monstro's? Yick!" Timon flinched exaggeratedly with his arms defending him as if he'd seen a ghost. "A highfalutin place like that? No no, too fancy for us."

    "Aww, Timon!" Pumbaa frowned. "I heard they have good food there!"

    "I think we'll pass, Ozzie my mammal," Timon shrugged, turning around and walking away with Pumbaa. "You know that what we've got to eat is good enough, Pumbaa. Much less expensive. too."

    "I guess so," Pumbaa nodded in a slightly disappointed voice.

    Ozzie smiled one more time up at Ozzie's Auto Repair. Maybe no one would ever call out to him on the streets randomly. Maybe he his legacy would be buried by the time he was. But it was his place.

    The black and white rabbit felt a smooth sense of satisfaction wash over him, and he put his hands into his pockets, beginning to whistle. Ozzie began to head on home so he could get changed.

    He had some friends to go catch up with.