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Scents-ible Behavior

Just remember, this could be a chance for Preds like us, Preston reminded from the back of my mind. Might even help you, especially.
"Do I have to wear my uniform, too?" I murmured along with the memory.
Nah. As much as I'd like to promote the company. I think we'll leave this one up to you. Dress nice, mind your manners, and, if you see Lionheart, let him know Preston Yote backs him all the way.
"I will," I promised.
With Bearig's insistence on "verisimilitude", I chose the same dark red shirt and jeans from the night I met Dawn. I just barely remember that detail after hearing the news about the thirteenth missing Predator. Thirteen. How could thirteen Predators just vanish like that?
During yesterday's run of sparkling water and cider tanks to The Palm, Alex was unusually silent. I rechecked the orders, trying to keep my paws from trembling. Alex kept his eyes on the road. I considered saying something, but his low growl killed that idea. As The Palm neared, his claws dug into the steering wheel. Once we stopped to unload, Alex unclenched his fingers and assumed a stoic look. I did most of the talking, telling our clients he was shaken by the news. And on the way back, Alex reburied his claws and growled some more.
Preston wasn't much better. The coyote didn't notice me coming in with the forms. Instead, he pressed his paws against the framed Lionheart poster. When he pulled away, two gray-white prints smudged the glass, the right one just above Dawn's autographed face. He shuddered, but still kept his back to me. I readied to cough, when he leaned his forehead into Lionheart's glass-topped torso and sobbed. I left the forms on his desk and quietly slipped out. As I shut the door, he pleaded with the determined lion to find the missing Predators.
Stacy tried to remain optimistic. But after failing to hear back from Wesley Lyncks and Amanda Coyo, she almost crunched the receiver between her fingers. She nervously laughed and carefully set it down. I offered a hug. She immediately ran to me, digging her claws into my sides and pressing her face to my shoulder. I patted her back until the radio cracked to life, confirming Wesley and Amanda were still with us. She laughed, but her grip once again tightened around the receiver once she let go.
Their faces stuck with me throughout the night.
But after waking up to my alarm, I spotted the Post-Paw note I left about Bearig's PSA. Helping Dawn and Preston's insistence to partake came back to me. I angrily stomped my feet, before remembering the arrowhead dangling off my lamp. Sighing, I got dressed, showered, and tried to push the missing Predators out of my mind. It made my stomach curl, but I was sure Bearig wouldn't approve of vomiting on the set. I tried to think of Dawn.
Hopefully, this project wouldn't embarrass her more than it already did. But it'd help her. I mean, if it wasn't for her efforts, The Lionheart Administration probably would've crumbled ages ago. (Although I'd never say something so blasphemous around my boss.) She was good for the city. And if we survived, there was Friday to look forward to.
I paused a few steps from my apartment. Dawn! She could help locate the missing Predators, if she wasn't already doing so! She probably was–there was no way Lionheart would just ignore something like that…
No, be realistic. More likely, Dawn was swamped in paperwork and instructed to tell all concerned mammals that the ZPD were on it. But maybe I could still ask. Or would that just be putting more pressure on her? I clutched my head. No, I'd get through Bearig's project, which I was doing to help her, first. Could I ask her after that? Maybe…no. Judging from what I heard, Lionheart probably already tasked her with it. I couldn't add to her stress.
But I had to do something, right?
Once I reached Sienna Avenue, a coyote's Takfuro Spirit nearly tapped an abrupt Buck LeSabre's rear bumper. The latter's leonine occupant swore at him, until he caught sight of me and added a disgusted "stinkass" for good measure. They still used that slur? The Buck LeSabre shot forward, nearly cutting off an antelope couple's Hatchback. They screamed into the exhaust trailing behind him. Yes, a PSA campaign would really fix all of that…
I stopped a block from City Hall to check myself one last time. The arrowhead slipped under my collar. I sighed and pulled it back out. A passing Chevolett honked and vanished into traffic with a flurry of giggles. I was doing this for Dawn. I had to remember that. I was doing this for Dawn and for Predators across the city. And maybe Alex's crazy idea about reversing The Descent, too. Yeah, crazy.
After checking in with a mare who thanked me for coming (and winked, for some reason), I selected one of the medium waiting area chairs. No sign of Dawn. But knowing her boss, she probably was running errands or kitsitting Bearig in Sahara Square or whatever else he couldn't be bothered to do. I rubbed my forehead. I was doing this for her. And the missing Predators. My gut churned. No, I had to forget about them for now. I had to be cheerful.
"Another air freshener, I see."
My paws slid down. Another skunk, dressed in a simple white shirt and black jeans, seated himself across from me. He casually flicked his arrowhead between his claws. I shrugged. "Guess so. Never really thought of them like that."
He laughed. "I know for a fact that's not true." Two claws caught the tag. "They're upside-down air freshener trees. They just call 'em "arrowheads" because it sounds cooler."
I shrugged again. "I guess." Something was oddly familiar about him. He played with his air fre…arrowhead a little longer. His baby blue eyes seemed to…holy crap. It was… "Baby Flower?"
He laughed a little louder. "I haven't been called that in years. But guilty as charged." He batted his eyes and curled his tail around him. "I'm just Nicky Mephitway, now."
I sighed and closed my eyes. The old TV from the old house returned. On it, a small skunk kit sat in a field of flowers, rendered black and white by a filter. He smiled and cooed at the camera, while a narrator spoke to soft music.
The De-Scent Initiative ensures your child a happier future, free from conflicts stirred by long-redundant designs. In today's world, the scent glands are a reminder of the distant, uncivilized past. In today's Zootopia, they invite harmful stereotypes and expectations. Let us dispose of these and create a better world for your child. Let us make the world a better place.
And then, in both the memory and behind my closed eyes, Nicky "Baby Flower" Mephitway chanted, "I'm stink-free and hap-py!" The field flourished in suddenly bright colors.
My eyes shot open. He smiled sympathetically. "I knew you were picturing that old ad in your head."
"Yeah, it's uncanny. I'm here for a PSA project they've got going."
"Is that so? Bearig said there'd be another skunk. Nice to see another air freshener in the crowd."
"Please don't call me that."
"Sorry." He tucked his arrowhead back under his collar. "I'm guessing you're not a fan."
I thought about Alex's comments. "It doesn't make any sense. A friend of mine said they might as well have declawed everyone."
"We've got claws, and we've got teeth. Suppose scent glands were redundant," Nicky said bitterly. "Believe me, I hate it, too. So I call these stupid things what they are." His next laugh broke. "Then again, it could be worse. They could've collared us."
"They wouldn't do something like that, would they?"
"No, but there were rumors about shock collars being considered once upon a time, in case any of us Predators got out of line."
I brushed my paws along my throat.
"Relax, it was just a rumor. Probably just some inconsiderate Prey trying to scare–" He quickly perked up.
I followed his gaze. A perky llama in red approached us, tapping her hooves. "Hello, I'm Yanna, with Oxton-Bay Productions, and it's super awesome to meet you! You must be Mr. Mephitway." She beelined directly for Nicky.
He dropped from his chair and winked. "Yep, that's me. I'm sure you've seen me around."
"I should say so. Just between you and me…" She knelt down. "…that promo you did for Thunderbolt's was pretty sweet."
"You really should thank the Vine Swingers Society in the Rainforest District for that one."
"Oh, I shall. And this is probably really personal, but is it true you've worked with Bambi Roebuck?"
Nicky's baby blue eyes briefly widened. "I've worked with a lot of mammals, Yanna. It's a big business." He turned to me. "Of course, I'm here and lucky to be in the company of…oh." His ears flattened. "I'm sorry, I didn't get your name."
I managed a smile in time for Yanna to turn around. "Tyler Zorrillo. I was–"
"Oh, yes, Kent's told me so much about you!" She clasped my paw between her hooves and enthusiastically shook me right off the chair. "Oh, my! I'm really sorry about that!"
I held up my other paw. "It's fine. Nice to meet you, Yanna."
She beamed and, remembering what happened a few seconds before, refrained from reshaking my paw. "Super! Well, let's begin. The crew's got the set upstairs. This'll be dynamite!" She tapped her feet and trailed ahead of us.
"Shall we?" Nicky waved his paw towards her shrinking back.
"We shall."
Yanna held the elevator and selected the seventh floor. As we ascended, I closed my eyes. The old PSA continued to play. Baby Flower, the future Nicky Mephitway, rolled around as the omnipresent voice listed further benefits of de-scenting. (No more enforced segregation to protect their peers. No more airborne contaminants.) He plucked a flower and planted it into his headfur. The voice trailed away, leaving the viewers at home to ten more seconds of Nicky cradling his legs to his chest.
He couldn't have been older than I was. Was he manipulated into it? No, this wasn't the time to think about The Descent. Because I was going up. Ha ha, thank God Dawn didn't hear that stupid joke.
"You worried, Zorrillo?"
I reopened my eyes and shook my head. "What's there to be worried about?"
"It's not complicated. You just smile, do something nice for the cameras, and then go home. And don't let the air…arrowhead slap you in the jaw. Had that happen too many times."
I chuckled. "I'll try."
The elevator dinged. Yanna shuffled out, clapping and stopping when she remembered we were there. Nicky and I stepped across the threshold. The hallway was a spotless mix of white and gray. A brown donkey walked by with a boom mike propped on his shoulder. Nicky waved. "Hey, Bo! Haven't seen you for a while."
The donkey carefully turned to avoid swatting us or the wall. "Nicky? Where have you been? They said you broke something in that Thunderbolt's commercial."
"Lies and slander. That would imply I missed." Nicky shook Bo's free hoof. "Good to see you. Oxton-Bay treating you well?"
"Can't complain."
"Good. If they ever treat you wrong, I'll raise hell."
"I'll remember that." He smiled and reached over to me. "Good to meetcha. You here for the show, too?"
"Yeah, I'm Tyler Zorrillo. You may have heard Bearig speak about me."
Bo winced. "Yeah, I did. Sounds like he all but kidnapped you."
I laughed, maybe a little too loud. "Just about. He's…passionate."
The donkey hawed. "No kidding. I had to take down his script ideas over the phone while he was drunk. That'll teach me to be the last crewmammal to leave the office."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
"No problem. They made sure I was well-compensated."
Someone called for us from behind the nearby metal doors. Bo shook his head. "You guys better get in there before Yanna has a panic attack. Was good to see you, Nicky. And nice to meet you, Ty."
Nicky and I followed him to the doors. "Here goes nothing," I murmured.
"It'll be all right, Tyler. Don't worry about it."
The studio wasn't quite what I expected. A mockup of Pride Boulevard (or at least a slice of it) stretched for about fifty feet. Bo joined the various other Prey and Predators arranging lights, wheeling cameras, and trailing cords. Yanna eagerly pointed out a pair of metal folding chairs helpfully marked MEPHITWAY and ZORRILLO, before trotting off to speak with a wildebeest overseeing the operation.
"They certainly pull out the stops, don't they?" Nicky whispered.
I chuckled and searched for Dawn. Couldn't see her anywhere. Oh, well. Bearig probably drag her along sooner or later. But at least it looked like he wouldn't dramatize our experience as a date. Not that I was opposed to the idea of dating Dawn, obviously. But she wanted to keep it between us. Considering Bearig's opportunism, I couldn't blame her. But he damned well better treat her better than–
"Hey, Ty?"
I blinked.
"You might wanna stop stomping. I know you're nervous, but it's not gonna help."
I sighed. "Sorry, Nicky. I'm just…sorry."
Nicky patted my back. "No worries. You'll do fine."
"Any idea what we're even gonna do?"
He smiled. "If I'm not far off, it looks like they're gonna try a montage-style PSA, if they're filming all this in one go with no rehearsal. On the one paw, you won't have to worry about dialogue. On the other, you might have to trip and fall for the camera."
I frowned. "Terrific."
"Don't worry. I'm sure it'll play us skunks up as civic heroes." He quietly growled. "They owe us that much."
"Great." I looked around once more for Dawn while Nicky seated himself. "I'm not really looking forward to any more surprises."
Nicky didn't ask me to elaborate. I reinspected the mock-up. In the center was an ornate house, fitted with telltale carvings of lion's heads and nicely trimmed Astroturf. Suddenly all those campaign promos and speeches featuring Lionheart in "his own front yard" made sense. Wasn't sure if Preston would be awed or crushed with such a revelation.
Dawn emerged from around the far corner. I tried to wave. Unfortunately, she pursued an oblivious Bearig and they disappeared behind the mock-up. Still, I smiled in her direction. At least she was here. I was doing this for her. I had to remember that.
"Hey, Ty."
I nearly jumped.
"Hey, hey, it's okay. I didn't mean to startle you." Bo carefully set down a toolbox. "You need a little help?"
"No, I'm fine. I was looking for…looking around."
Bo glanced between me and the space where I had seen Dawn. A little, knowing smile crept, not unlike Viola's. "She's pretty cute, huh?"
"What?"
"Bellwether."
I groaned and ran my paw down my face. Thank God for the voices and sounds of construction around us.
Bo waved his hoof. "I'm not judging, and I'm not opposed to interspecies dating. In fact, I get where you're coming from. There's a cute ewe I like, too."
My paw slid away. "Really?"
"Yeah. Her name's Ruth."
"You didn't have to say her name."
"It's only fair. She works at Bullram and Rambull's. I go there as often as I can, but I dunno. Why would she be interested in a donkey?"
"You never know."
"True. So, you two official?"
My tail swept across the floor. "Promise you won't say anything. She wanted me to keep it under wraps."
"Way I see it, I guessed correctly, you didn't tell me. You should be good."
"I just wanna make that clear. She's kinda worried."
"Believe me, I get you. That's why I'm a little concerned about asking Ruth out. I don't want anything bad to happen to her."
I hadn't considered that. If word got out that a skunk went out with her…hell, if word got out that a Predator was going out with a Prey like her…I shook my head. "No, it'll be fine. Just don't tell anyone else."
"Lips sealed."
"Thanks. But, no, we're not official yet. I asked her out, and we're gonna meet on Friday night. Assuming we survive whatever humiliation Bearig has planned for us."
Bo laughed. "You'll do fine, trust me. And if not, Nicky'll raise hell. And if he doesn't, I'll make sure he does."
I smirked. "Just what did he do to owe you that?"
Bo grinned evilly. "Like your future relationship, it's a secret I've been sworn to keep." He glanced over his shoulder. "Looks like they're passing out the scripts. You probably better get over there."
"Thanks." I gave him another smile. "You should ask her out. Who knows? She might be interested in a donkey."
His face flushed. "That'd be nice. Even if I'm not good enough." He quickly recovered. "Good luck. Now, get back before Yanna comes looking for you. She's generally pretty happy, but trust me, you do not wanna test her patience."
"Thanks for the warning." I waved and quickly returned to my seat.
Nicky examined his single page script. "Looks like I get a little dialogue. Shouldn't be too hard to memorize. I'll just pretend I'm Lionheart giving a speech."
Yanna, still holding her excited smile from earlier, passed me a similar sheet of paper. She called out to Bo, who flashed me a supportive smile before wheeling one of the cameras away from the mock-up of Lionheart's house. I checked out my part. My fingers tightened around the paper.
Nicky lowered his. "What's up, Zorrillo?"
"Pendejos," I muttered under my breath.
He thankfully didn't ask and returned to his speech. I gave the script one more look. Maybe that was just a typo. No, it wasn't. If that stupid bear was here…no, I couldn't get angry. It wouldn't do anyone any good.
***
No, there was NO way in hell I was doing this! No stinking…no, that was insensitive. But there was no way I was going to degrade myself any further. Absolutely not!
I trotted behind Bearig, who once again directed everything in Lionheart's absence. He waved to the rabbit and groundhog crew members affixing the overhead lighting. I went for the tried and true method of tugging his other arm. "Excuse me. Excuse me, Kent. We need to talk."
"Just a minute, Dawn. Hey, you fellas are doing a fantastic job!" He waved at two beavers finishing a Nooks and Novelties façade to cover up the equally fake Lionheart house. "That looks great! Just perfect!"
"Kent," I said, a little more forcefully.
He finally looked down. "Yes, Dawn? How might I help my favorite Prey?"
I shoved the script at him, hoping it'd cover how much I wanted to gag. "Could you please explain this?" I tapped the offensive words.
Bearig pulled the script from my fingers and examined it. "I'm not sure what the problem is. I ran it through proofreading with Oxton-Bay's editors and–"
I grabbed it and laughed nervously. "It's not a proofreading issue, okay? Nothing's misspelled or grammatically incorrect. It's…" Screw it, I was done with formalities. "It's the content. It's a little…problematic."
The black bear eyed me curiously.
Oh, how to explain this to a Pred? Slipping back into the harmless ewe voice I spent years developing, I began. "You told me this would be a simple dramatization, of the night I met Mr. Zorrillo–despite how many times I told you not to drag him into it. You did not inform me about any scene changes–or any changes, period–until you dropped this rehearsal script into my hooves two minutes ago."
Bearig considered this. And, true to his nature, replied with a simple, "So, what exactly is the problem?"
Letting out another nervous laugh, I shook that waste of toner ink and copy paper. "Your script is basically asking me…it's asking me to utterly humiliate myself. For something that will be broadcast to mammals all across Zootopia."
Bearig laughed. "Oh, no, it's not asking you to do that. There's nothing humiliating or degrading about it."
I fought hard not to grind my teeth. "You want me to stumble around after lightning strikes and fall flat on my face into a puddle. And I don't even get any dialogue! All I get is a–and I'm quoting right from the script, here–a "SAD BLEAT"! How is that not a problem?"
"Well, our funding came up a little short, because of other obligations. So Oxton-Bay suggested we create a single PSA, featuring scenarios common for little mammals like yourself. With so many larger animals walking around, it's not unheard of for the little ones to trip and fall. We're spreading awareness, Dawn. And as the Assistant Mayor, it'll have a greater impact when a Predator helps you back onto your feet."
The sheer stupidity! Did he pull that out all by himself, or did Lionheart help him? Resuming my innocent ewe voice (and pushing out justified thoughts of cramming the paper down his damned throat), I countered. "I appreciate your concern for the well-being of others. But this scenario might come off as a tad condescending. Just a smidge."
"We're trying to encourage the good in Zootopians everywhere. It's a simple message, a simple gesture, and the moral will resonate longer with a familiar face."
"I'm not afraid of lightning. And I'm pretty sure not every Prey is, either."
"It's just your motivation."
"Then why don't you get shaken up by a thunderstorm and fall flat on your face?"
He laughed. "I'm clearly not a little mammal."
The script crumpled under my hoof. But Bearing, in a way becoming of someone like him, abandoned the conversation to chat up two jaguars sweeping the fake tarmac. I relaxed my grip. This would all change in due time. I just had to be patient. I smoothed out the paper as best as I could. But even the crease lines didn't completely cover the cue for a SAD BLEAT. Why not? I humiliated myself in public plenty of times before now, right? Knocked onto the floor, paperwork scattered everywhere, some inconsiderate mammal laughing in the hall behind me…
Bearig took off, loudly informing everyone that he was off to consult the Oxton-Bay representatives. Vildemaas shot a disgusted look at his back. I smiled. At least the Prey among them understood how demeaning this was. But I suppose that wasn't enough to sway the Predator majority working behind the cameras. I slid off my glasses and pressed my curled hoof and massaged my forehead. At least that maned idiot wasn't here.
"Smellwether!"
I leapt and bleated, dropping my glasses and script on the floor. Oh, please, oh, please, don't let the lens get cracked. I've already been through three pairs!
A blurred paw grabbed the frames and shoved them onto my face. I nearly jumped again when Lionheart leaned in close. "I see you're working on your acting. Needs improvement. That entire performance looked fake."
"I'm sorry, Sir. I'll get right on that." I crouched and tried to pull the paper out from beneath his right foot. "Um, Mayor, could you please–?"
He obliged, sweeping his foot forward and knocking me onto my back. The paper floated into the air and landed on my face. Fittingly, the SAD BLEAT lined up with my eyes. I quickly rolled onto my knees and clutched the sheet to my chest.
"Practicing looking scared out of your wits? Good thinking, Bellwether."
"Leodore! So glad you could make it!" Bearig chanted from the other side of the Pride Boulevard set.
"This had better be good, Kent." Lionheart mercifully walked away. "I had to cancel a crucial meet-and-greet just to be here."
"And I appreciate the sacrifices you make for the good of the city. Don't think for a moment that I don't."
"Where the hell is my house?" And just like that, the good ol' Mayor nearly broke into a vicious argument with the beaver crew members. "You can't have Pride Boulevard without Lionheart Manor! It's a historic landmark! Where the hell else am I supposed to make that speech to our adoring public?!"
"It's not even real," I groaned. "Might as well get this over with."
Brushing off the maned idiot's ramblings and the damn bear's butt-kissing, I spotted Tyler sitting at the other end of the "street" with another skunk. He smiled and waved. I smiled and waved back. Thank goodness there was at least one mammal here I didn't want to strangle. But before I could say a proper hello, a spoiled-looking leopard marched and called for the filming to begin. Now, it was only a matter of playing the waiting game.
There was no way the scenario would come off as anything but callous. The population was ninety-percent Prey, already burdened with stereotypes of being smaller and weaker. But I couldn't expect Lionheart or Bearig to understand. I glanced over at Tyler. The hyperactive llama pointed to the scripts in their paws. Tyler glared at the page and shook his head at me. I sadly shrugged. Good to know he understood, too.
The lights dimmed as the first scenario played out. An antelope tried to escape the sudden "thunderstorm" of sprinkler water. A conscientious jaguar carefully approached with a Rainforest District-stamped umbrella and held it over her head. She smiled and accepted his kind gesture. I sighed and took a few steps back to wipe the "rainwater" from my lenses.
After that single take, it was my turn. I took a deep breath, willed myself not to fly screaming at Lionheart and Bearig, and walked around to the other side of "Pride Boulevard". In the dim light, Tyler nodded. I nodded back. Here went nothing.
At the leopard's command, I pulled out my smartphone and strode down the plastic sidewalk. I tapped my fingers at the blank screen, trying to act as oblivious as possible. (They truly got what it was like for little mammals, didn't they?) And not quite halfway down, just after the Nooks and Novelties façade, "thunder" exploded behind me. I faked a stumble, and my right foot hooked a crack in the plastic. My glasses and phone flew towards a drier section of the sidewalk. Unfortunately, I tumbled right into the puddle that conveniently collected at the base of the curb. Between coughs and sputters, I swore I heard Lionheart snicker. I bleated sadly.
When I looked up, Tyler held out his paw.
My fingers unclenched and took it. He helped me back to my feet and returned my glasses and phone. I smiled at him. He smiled back at me. I began to blush. And, thankfully, Tyler guided me down that slick sidewalk before any of those idiots could see. Behind us, the leopard shrieked a "Cut!"
"Impressive, Bellwether! Your acting has improved!" It was hard to tell if Leodore was serious or not. But at least it didn't sound like there'd be a second take.
Gently gripping Tyler's wrist, I led us behind the Pride Boulevard set. Another Predator and Prey scenario commenced under more sprinkler rain. The fake thunder boomed, nearly spooking a bellowing ram off what sounded like an ill-placed ladder. Sure enough, a Predator's pads rushed to the rescue. I released his wrist and rubbed my forehead.
"That was stupid," he whispered.
"Thank you." I brushed his arm. The skunk nodded pleasantly.
"No problem. I finally met the illustrious Leodore Lionheart. I suppose that's typical for him?"
"He's not so bad. He's…" No, I wasn't gonna defend that moron. Not now. "He's terrible. But he's The Mayor, and it's what I have to put up with just to make sure things run smoothly."
"You really shouldn't." Tyler walked toward a crate with a towel draped over its side. He lightly shook it and passed it to me. "I'm sorry I can't do much else." He seated himself.
"Believe me, this is enough." I passed him my glasses and carefully toweled off. "I really appreciate it."
He scooted a little to the left. I folded the towel onto my lap and joined him. "Dawn?" When I turned, the skunk kindly fitted my glasses back on. "Good as new."
"Thanks." My hoof brushed his paw. "I'm sorry you got dragged into this. If I hadn't blabbed to Bearig…"
Tyler shook his head. "It's okay. I did this to help you. At the very least, you'd have one friendly face around."
I smiled. "You did this for me?"
"Yeah, I did. And right now, part of me really wants to deck your boss."
I giggled. "As much as I'd love to see that, I don't think it's gonna work."
"I know. Are you hurt?"
"Just my pride."
"Maybe I can help with that."
My fingers slowly interlocked with his. He lightly squeezed my hoof in turn. "Thanks for being here."
The tip of his tail stroked my other arm. He grinned sheepishly. I laughed softly and pushed the towel onto the floor. His tail curled into my lap. I ran my fingers through the black and white-striped fur. Soft bristles caught around my hoof, reminding me a little of rougher wool. I resumed brushing his tail, trying not to giggle as Tyler's face blushed and slackened into a goofier grin. I pulled his tail closer to my chest.
Unfortunately, the moment was ruined when Bearig pitched on the other side. "It's beautiful in its simplicity! We'll call it, "Scents-ible Behavior"!"
His tail retreated behind us. Tyler sighed, but didn't release my hoof. "Please tell me he just has a hard time pronouncing "sensible"."
I shook my head. "Knowing Kent, he fully intends the pun. The whole city's loaded with them." Something trailed up my spine, nearly making me slide off the crate.
The skunk grimaced. "Sorry about that. Stupid tail."
I chuckled. "Just warn me next time, okay?" He instantly relaxed. "I can't wait for Friday," I quietly confessed.
He gave my hoof another light squeeze. "Neither can I."
"Smellwether! Where'd you run off to?!"
Damn it. I reluctantly released Tyler's paw and shuffled off the crate. "Duty calls. Screams, anyway." I flashed him a little smile. "Thank you again."
Before Lionheart would roar further demands, I pressed down my skirt and quickly trotted to the front of the set. The Nooks and Novelties façade was quickly dragged away, finally giving the Mayor the cheap replica of his cheap house. He waved away Bearig, who took that opportunity to thank another crew member. "Where were you? I've got to make a grand speech to the populace, and I can't do that without the Assistant Mayor! Come on, Dawn, you're better than this!
Didn't stop you from giving speeches without me before, Leodore. I took a deep breath and adjusted my glasses. "Yes, Mayor, right away."
He forcefully ushered me to the "front steps" and positioned me to his left. The cameras dollied towards the other side of the street. The lights brightened, as if the sun finally broke through the clouds. How cute. I molded my photogenic smile and tried to steady my slightly sagging headwool. "Pay attention," he grunted, lightly shaking me. I merely nodded and stood perfectly still. Good little ewe. Good little ewe.
The other skunk gave Tyler a nod, set his script aside, and strolled onto the set.
"Hello, I'm Nicky Mephitway, and I'm here to talk to you about something really important. Zootopia is a wonderful city, full of diversity and imagination, hopes and dreams. But we sometimes forget about our neighbors in this great melting pot. Mammals are overlooked, despite our best efforts. So it's up to all of us to do our part and help one another whenever we can." He paused impressively by the fence lining the front of "Lionheart Manor".
And the maned idiot took his cue. "That's right, Mr. Mephitway. Here in Zootopia, we strive to live in harmony and ensure a brighter future for everyone. So I ask each and every one of you to help those in need, no matter how big or small they may be." He suddenly hoisted me onto his left shoulder. Choking back a startled bleat, I smiled and waved. "Assistant Mayor Bellwether and I work together to guarantee the best for our fellow Zootopians. And we ask you to do the same." He raised his right paw. "Together, we'll make the world a better place!"
The leopard shrieked another "Cut!" and called for the crew to clean up. Lionheart groaned. "Bellwether, do you mind?"
As if I needed to be asked to slide off his shoulder. "That was very good, Sir."
"It better be. I don't have time for a second take." He flashed his winning smile at Mr. Mephitway. "You made a great lead-in, Nicky. I love that Thunderbolt's ad."
"Everyone does, sir," the skunk politely replied. He bowed and walked off to discuss matters with the hyperactive llama.
Lionheart gripped my shoulder. "Thanks for not screwing up. You're doing a lot better than usual."
Part of me longed to sink my teeth into his fingers. Instead, I nodded. "Thank you, Sir. I'll make a note of it."
"You do that. You owe me that much, you and Bearig. I had to push aside important matters to get involved in your little project."
"Sir, it wasn't my project. It was Kent's–"
"Give it a rest, Smellwether. I'm late enough at it is. I gotta run back to The Palm and then get ready for my 7:00 at Halibut's. I'm really starting to hook those delegates. And I can't miss out because you and Kent got overly sentimental."
"It wasn't my idea, Sir. I was just as railroaded into this as you were–"
"Will you shut up, already? I've got enough problems going on without having to listen to your obnoxious bleating. I'm a very busy–"
"Excuse me, Mayor."
Lionheart stepped to one side. Tyler walked up, patting down a damp spot on his shirt. His eyes remained locked on the lion. "Sir, with all due respect, your behavior is very unprofessional."
The maned idiot laughed. "Kid, you don't know anything about my line of work. I have to manage the entirety of Zootopia like it was in my own backyard. Laws have to be passed, ordinances have to be made, and the daily troubles of mammals from all walks of life have to be addressed. Do you have any idea how stressful that all is, from one Predator to another?"
Tyler held his stare. "I understand, Mr. Lionheart. But maybe you could try to be a little less abrasive to Ms. Bellwether. She's done a lot for you and–"
Leodore shook his head at me. "Since when did you become so chummy with a skunk?" He turned back to Tyler with his politician's smile. "Bellwether is a hard worker, and a few mere insults aren't going to stop her from doing what has to be done for this city."
"You shouldn't insult her in the first place. I mean, "Smellwether"? What are you, a little cub?"
"Listen, you…" Lionheart set his paws onto Tyler's shoulders. "I'm doing a lot for you, right now. You may not believe it, but I'm currently up to my armpits in matters that may very well determine the futures of Predators like us. And I don't have time to be lectured over something as trivial as playful nicknames."
The skunk shoved away the lion's paws. "It's not trivial. She deserves more respect than that."
"Kid, you don't know what disrespect is."
Tyler stomped his right foot. His De-Scent tag flapped around his shirt collar.
Lionheart smirked. "At ease, Zorrillo. You're not even fighting with a loaded gun." He started off. "Cancel my six-o'clock, would you, Bellwether? I'm gonna be locked in tonight."
The skunk took three more steps and stopped with a defeated sigh. Lionheart disappeared through the metal doors, throwing out another reminder to cancel his six-o'clock. Tyler clutched his head and groaned. His tail coiled and tightened around his legs.
I walked towards him and gently brushed my hoof up and down his back. Tyler's paws fell. His tail slid across my ankles. When he turned around, I embraced him. After a few seconds, he slipped his arms around my waist. Over his shoulder, I spotted a brown donkey crew member smiling at us before departing. I brushed my cheek against his. "Thank you."
"Sorry I can't do more. And sorry your boss sucks."
"Tell me about it." I broke the embrace, but kept my hooves on his arms. "You have no idea how much I appreciate what you did there. Well, tried to do. It'd take a lot to get anything through that thick skull of his."
"And I left my sledgehammer at home."
I gave him another quick hug. "You've done enough."
"I'm glad."
Oh, what the hell. I pecked his cheek as I pulled away. "I can't wait for Friday."
"Me, neither."
I gently squeezed his arm. "I'll walk you out."
Tyler nodded and offered his arm before tucking it against his side. Thunder boomed as the Nooks and Novelties façade dislodged and slammed hard on the tarmac. We watched several crew members, including the brown donkey, rush to push it back into place. I pressed my hoof against my heart. "We'd better get out of here," he said, nervously rubbing the back of his head.
Halfway across the room, Bearig caught up and offered weak congratulations for my performance. I looked over my soaked clothes and sighed. No, I'd deal with that later. Right now, I wanted to put as much distance as I could between myself and those two morons. Mr. Mephitway patted Tyler's back before the overly perky llama dragged him back into a conversation. She was a nice Prey, but she could afford to dial back her Bearig-level enthusiasm a little.
We stepped into the hallway, leaving the chaos behind us. An evil little smile grew on my face. I leaned closer to Tyler. "How would you do it?"
"Do what?"
I stifled a laugh. "Back in there, you said part of you wanted to deck Lionheart. How would you do it?"
Tyler grinned and shrugged. "I'm not really sure. But I feel like a folding chair would've been involved."
I didn't bother to hold back my next laugh. Two rabbit crew members passed and regarded me with strange looks. I waved and waited until they disappeared through the studio doors. "I'm sorry. I was just picturing it. I'm still not sure it could happen, but it was nice to think about."
"Yeah, it is." Tyler pressed the down button and held his arm across the elevator's threshold. "He really shouldn't treat you like that."
"I know." The elevator door closed. "I still appreciate what you did."
Tyler held out his paw. I took it and intertwined our fingers. But his smile wavered as his gaze drifted towards the door. I gently squeezed. His tail stiffened against the back wall. He slowly turned back to me, his smile still breaking. I released his paw and wrapped my arms around him once more. Tyler closed his eyes and settled his paws on my lower back. His tail slackened and coiled behind his feet. I squeezed as tightly as I could. His hot breath tickled my forehead.
I grudgingly let him go seconds before the elevator dinged and the door opened. His smile briefly came back. I returned it and walked with him to the entrance. Tiffany paused long enough to give me an approving nod. Nodding back, I stepped out with Tyler onto Sienna Avenue. He glanced to the left and wiped off a few lingering water drops clinging to the back of his shirt. I laughed. He laughed with me. And when the laughter stopped, he took my hoof, lightly squeezed it, and walked away.
It pained me to watch him disappear down one of Savannah Central's many streets. But we survived Bearig's little stunt. We now had Friday to look forward to. Giddily tapping my hooves together, I quickly walked back inside to cancel Lionheart's six-o'clock.

Description
Scents-ible Behavior

Just remember, this could be a chance for Preds like us, Preston reminded from the back of my mind. Might even help you, especially.
"Do I have to wear my uniform, too?" I murmured along with the memory.
Nah. As much as I'd like to promote the company. I think we'll leave this one up to you. Dress nice, mind your manners, and, if you see Lionheart, let him know Preston Yote backs him all the way.
"I will," I promised.
With Bearig's insistence on "verisimilitude", I chose the same dark red shirt and jeans from the night I met Dawn. I just barely remember that detail after hearing the news about the thirteenth missing Predator. Thirteen. How could thirteen Predators just vanish like that?
During yesterday's run of sparkling water and cider tanks to The Palm, Alex was unusually silent. I rechecked the orders, trying to keep my paws from trembling. Alex kept his eyes on the road. I considered saying something, but his low growl killed that idea. As The Palm neared, his claws dug into the steering wheel. Once we stopped to unload, Alex unclenched his fingers and assumed a stoic look. I did most of the talking, telling our clients he was shaken by the news. And on the way back, Alex reburied his claws and growled some more.
Preston wasn't much better. The coyote didn't notice me coming in with the forms. Instead, he pressed his paws against the framed Lionheart poster. When he pulled away, two gray-white prints smudged the glass, the right one just above Dawn's autographed face. He shuddered, but still kept his back to me. I readied to cough, when he leaned his forehead into Lionheart's glass-topped torso and sobbed. I left the forms on his desk and quietly slipped out. As I shut the door, he pleaded with the determined lion to find the missing Predators.
Stacy tried to remain optimistic. But after failing to hear back from Wesley Lyncks and Amanda Coyo, she almost crunched the receiver between her fingers. She nervously laughed and carefully set it down. I offered a hug. She immediately ran to me, digging her claws into my sides and pressing her face to my shoulder. I patted her back until the radio cracked to life, confirming Wesley and Amanda were still with us. She laughed, but her grip once again tightened around the receiver once she let go.
Their faces stuck with me throughout the night.
But after waking up to my alarm, I spotted the Post-Paw note I left about Bearig's PSA. Helping Dawn and Preston's insistence to partake came back to me. I angrily stomped my feet, before remembering the arrowhead dangling off my lamp. Sighing, I got dressed, showered, and tried to push the missing Predators out of my mind. It made my stomach curl, but I was sure Bearig wouldn't approve of vomiting on the set. I tried to think of Dawn.
Hopefully, this project wouldn't embarrass her more than it already did. But it'd help her. I mean, if it wasn't for her efforts, The Lionheart Administration probably would've crumbled ages ago. (Although I'd never say something so blasphemous around my boss.) She was good for the city. And if we survived, there was Friday to look forward to.
I paused a few steps from my apartment. Dawn! She could help locate the missing Predators, if she wasn't already doing so! She probably was–there was no way Lionheart would just ignore something like that…
No, be realistic. More likely, Dawn was swamped in paperwork and instructed to tell all concerned mammals that the ZPD were on it. But maybe I could still ask. Or would that just be putting more pressure on her? I clutched my head. No, I'd get through Bearig's project, which I was doing to help her, first. Could I ask her after that? Maybe…no. Judging from what I heard, Lionheart probably already tasked her with it. I couldn't add to her stress.
But I had to do something, right?
Once I reached Sienna Avenue, a coyote's Takfuro Spirit nearly tapped an abrupt Buck LeSabre's rear bumper. The latter's leonine occupant swore at him, until he caught sight of me and added a disgusted "stinkass" for good measure. They still used that slur? The Buck LeSabre shot forward, nearly cutting off an antelope couple's Hatchback. They screamed into the exhaust trailing behind him. Yes, a PSA campaign would really fix all of that…
I stopped a block from City Hall to check myself one last time. The arrowhead slipped under my collar. I sighed and pulled it back out. A passing Chevolett honked and vanished into traffic with a flurry of giggles. I was doing this for Dawn. I had to remember that. I was doing this for Dawn and for Predators across the city. And maybe Alex's crazy idea about reversing The Descent, too. Yeah, crazy.
After checking in with a mare who thanked me for coming (and winked, for some reason), I selected one of the medium waiting area chairs. No sign of Dawn. But knowing her boss, she probably was running errands or kitsitting Bearig in Sahara Square or whatever else he couldn't be bothered to do. I rubbed my forehead. I was doing this for her. And the missing Predators. My gut churned. No, I had to forget about them for now. I had to be cheerful.
"Another air freshener, I see."
My paws slid down. Another skunk, dressed in a simple white shirt and black jeans, seated himself across from me. He casually flicked his arrowhead between his claws. I shrugged. "Guess so. Never really thought of them like that."
He laughed. "I know for a fact that's not true." Two claws caught the tag. "They're upside-down air freshener trees. They just call 'em "arrowheads" because it sounds cooler."
I shrugged again. "I guess." Something was oddly familiar about him. He played with his air fre…arrowhead a little longer. His baby blue eyes seemed to…holy crap. It was… "Baby Flower?"
He laughed a little louder. "I haven't been called that in years. But guilty as charged." He batted his eyes and curled his tail around him. "I'm just Nicky Mephitway, now."
I sighed and closed my eyes. The old TV from the old house returned. On it, a small skunk kit sat in a field of flowers, rendered black and white by a filter. He smiled and cooed at the camera, while a narrator spoke to soft music.
The De-Scent Initiative ensures your child a happier future, free from conflicts stirred by long-redundant designs. In today's world, the scent glands are a reminder of the distant, uncivilized past. In today's Zootopia, they invite harmful stereotypes and expectations. Let us dispose of these and create a better world for your child. Let us make the world a better place.
And then, in both the memory and behind my closed eyes, Nicky "Baby Flower" Mephitway chanted, "I'm stink-free and hap-py!" The field flourished in suddenly bright colors.
My eyes shot open. He smiled sympathetically. "I knew you were picturing that old ad in your head."
"Yeah, it's uncanny. I'm here for a PSA project they've got going."
"Is that so? Bearig said there'd be another skunk. Nice to see another air freshener in the crowd."
"Please don't call me that."
"Sorry." He tucked his arrowhead back under his collar. "I'm guessing you're not a fan."
I thought about Alex's comments. "It doesn't make any sense. A friend of mine said they might as well have declawed everyone."
"We've got claws, and we've got teeth. Suppose scent glands were redundant," Nicky said bitterly. "Believe me, I hate it, too. So I call these stupid things what they are." His next laugh broke. "Then again, it could be worse. They could've collared us."
"They wouldn't do something like that, would they?"
"No, but there were rumors about shock collars being considered once upon a time, in case any of us Predators got out of line."
I brushed my paws along my throat.
"Relax, it was just a rumor. Probably just some inconsiderate Prey trying to scare–" He quickly perked up.
I followed his gaze. A perky llama in red approached us, tapping her hooves. "Hello, I'm Yanna, with Oxton-Bay Productions, and it's super awesome to meet you! You must be Mr. Mephitway." She beelined directly for Nicky.
He dropped from his chair and winked. "Yep, that's me. I'm sure you've seen me around."
"I should say so. Just between you and me…" She knelt down. "…that promo you did for Thunderbolt's was pretty sweet."
"You really should thank the Vine Swingers Society in the Rainforest District for that one."
"Oh, I shall. And this is probably really personal, but is it true you've worked with Bambi Roebuck?"
Nicky's baby blue eyes briefly widened. "I've worked with a lot of mammals, Yanna. It's a big business." He turned to me. "Of course, I'm here and lucky to be in the company of…oh." His ears flattened. "I'm sorry, I didn't get your name."
I managed a smile in time for Yanna to turn around. "Tyler Zorrillo. I was–"
"Oh, yes, Kent's told me so much about you!" She clasped my paw between her hooves and enthusiastically shook me right off the chair. "Oh, my! I'm really sorry about that!"
I held up my other paw. "It's fine. Nice to meet you, Yanna."
She beamed and, remembering what happened a few seconds before, refrained from reshaking my paw. "Super! Well, let's begin. The crew's got the set upstairs. This'll be dynamite!" She tapped her feet and trailed ahead of us.
"Shall we?" Nicky waved his paw towards her shrinking back.
"We shall."
Yanna held the elevator and selected the seventh floor. As we ascended, I closed my eyes. The old PSA continued to play. Baby Flower, the future Nicky Mephitway, rolled around as the omnipresent voice listed further benefits of de-scenting. (No more enforced segregation to protect their peers. No more airborne contaminants.) He plucked a flower and planted it into his headfur. The voice trailed away, leaving the viewers at home to ten more seconds of Nicky cradling his legs to his chest.
He couldn't have been older than I was. Was he manipulated into it? No, this wasn't the time to think about The Descent. Because I was going up. Ha ha, thank God Dawn didn't hear that stupid joke.
"You worried, Zorrillo?"
I reopened my eyes and shook my head. "What's there to be worried about?"
"It's not complicated. You just smile, do something nice for the cameras, and then go home. And don't let the air…arrowhead slap you in the jaw. Had that happen too many times."
I chuckled. "I'll try."
The elevator dinged. Yanna shuffled out, clapping and stopping when she remembered we were there. Nicky and I stepped across the threshold. The hallway was a spotless mix of white and gray. A brown donkey walked by with a boom mike propped on his shoulder. Nicky waved. "Hey, Bo! Haven't seen you for a while."
The donkey carefully turned to avoid swatting us or the wall. "Nicky? Where have you been? They said you broke something in that Thunderbolt's commercial."
"Lies and slander. That would imply I missed." Nicky shook Bo's free hoof. "Good to see you. Oxton-Bay treating you well?"
"Can't complain."
"Good. If they ever treat you wrong, I'll raise hell."
"I'll remember that." He smiled and reached over to me. "Good to meetcha. You here for the show, too?"
"Yeah, I'm Tyler Zorrillo. You may have heard Bearig speak about me."
Bo winced. "Yeah, I did. Sounds like he all but kidnapped you."
I laughed, maybe a little too loud. "Just about. He's…passionate."
The donkey hawed. "No kidding. I had to take down his script ideas over the phone while he was drunk. That'll teach me to be the last crewmammal to leave the office."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
"No problem. They made sure I was well-compensated."
Someone called for us from behind the nearby metal doors. Bo shook his head. "You guys better get in there before Yanna has a panic attack. Was good to see you, Nicky. And nice to meet you, Ty."
Nicky and I followed him to the doors. "Here goes nothing," I murmured.
"It'll be all right, Tyler. Don't worry about it."
The studio wasn't quite what I expected. A mockup of Pride Boulevard (or at least a slice of it) stretched for about fifty feet. Bo joined the various other Prey and Predators arranging lights, wheeling cameras, and trailing cords. Yanna eagerly pointed out a pair of metal folding chairs helpfully marked MEPHITWAY and ZORRILLO, before trotting off to speak with a wildebeest overseeing the operation.
"They certainly pull out the stops, don't they?" Nicky whispered.
I chuckled and searched for Dawn. Couldn't see her anywhere. Oh, well. Bearig probably drag her along sooner or later. But at least it looked like he wouldn't dramatize our experience as a date. Not that I was opposed to the idea of dating Dawn, obviously. But she wanted to keep it between us. Considering Bearig's opportunism, I couldn't blame her. But he damned well better treat her better than–
"Hey, Ty?"
I blinked.
"You might wanna stop stomping. I know you're nervous, but it's not gonna help."
I sighed. "Sorry, Nicky. I'm just…sorry."
Nicky patted my back. "No worries. You'll do fine."
"Any idea what we're even gonna do?"
He smiled. "If I'm not far off, it looks like they're gonna try a montage-style PSA, if they're filming all this in one go with no rehearsal. On the one paw, you won't have to worry about dialogue. On the other, you might have to trip and fall for the camera."
I frowned. "Terrific."
"Don't worry. I'm sure it'll play us skunks up as civic heroes." He quietly growled. "They owe us that much."
"Great." I looked around once more for Dawn while Nicky seated himself. "I'm not really looking forward to any more surprises."
Nicky didn't ask me to elaborate. I reinspected the mock-up. In the center was an ornate house, fitted with telltale carvings of lion's heads and nicely trimmed Astroturf. Suddenly all those campaign promos and speeches featuring Lionheart in "his own front yard" made sense. Wasn't sure if Preston would be awed or crushed with such a revelation.
Dawn emerged from around the far corner. I tried to wave. Unfortunately, she pursued an oblivious Bearig and they disappeared behind the mock-up. Still, I smiled in her direction. At least she was here. I was doing this for her. I had to remember that.
"Hey, Ty."
I nearly jumped.
"Hey, hey, it's okay. I didn't mean to startle you." Bo carefully set down a toolbox. "You need a little help?"
"No, I'm fine. I was looking for…looking around."
Bo glanced between me and the space where I had seen Dawn. A little, knowing smile crept, not unlike Viola's. "She's pretty cute, huh?"
"What?"
"Bellwether."
I groaned and ran my paw down my face. Thank God for the voices and sounds of construction around us.
Bo waved his hoof. "I'm not judging, and I'm not opposed to interspecies dating. In fact, I get where you're coming from. There's a cute ewe I like, too."
My paw slid away. "Really?"
"Yeah. Her name's Ruth."
"You didn't have to say her name."
"It's only fair. She works at Bullram and Rambull's. I go there as often as I can, but I dunno. Why would she be interested in a donkey?"
"You never know."
"True. So, you two official?"
My tail swept across the floor. "Promise you won't say anything. She wanted me to keep it under wraps."
"Way I see it, I guessed correctly, you didn't tell me. You should be good."
"I just wanna make that clear. She's kinda worried."
"Believe me, I get you. That's why I'm a little concerned about asking Ruth out. I don't want anything bad to happen to her."
I hadn't considered that. If word got out that a skunk went out with her…hell, if word got out that a Predator was going out with a Prey like her…I shook my head. "No, it'll be fine. Just don't tell anyone else."
"Lips sealed."
"Thanks. But, no, we're not official yet. I asked her out, and we're gonna meet on Friday night. Assuming we survive whatever humiliation Bearig has planned for us."
Bo laughed. "You'll do fine, trust me. And if not, Nicky'll raise hell. And if he doesn't, I'll make sure he does."
I smirked. "Just what did he do to owe you that?"
Bo grinned evilly. "Like your future relationship, it's a secret I've been sworn to keep." He glanced over his shoulder. "Looks like they're passing out the scripts. You probably better get over there."
"Thanks." I gave him another smile. "You should ask her out. Who knows? She might be interested in a donkey."
His face flushed. "That'd be nice. Even if I'm not good enough." He quickly recovered. "Good luck. Now, get back before Yanna comes looking for you. She's generally pretty happy, but trust me, you do not wanna test her patience."
"Thanks for the warning." I waved and quickly returned to my seat.
Nicky examined his single page script. "Looks like I get a little dialogue. Shouldn't be too hard to memorize. I'll just pretend I'm Lionheart giving a speech."
Yanna, still holding her excited smile from earlier, passed me a similar sheet of paper. She called out to Bo, who flashed me a supportive smile before wheeling one of the cameras away from the mock-up of Lionheart's house. I checked out my part. My fingers tightened around the paper.
Nicky lowered his. "What's up, Zorrillo?"
"Pendejos," I muttered under my breath.
He thankfully didn't ask and returned to his speech. I gave the script one more look. Maybe that was just a typo. No, it wasn't. If that stupid bear was here…no, I couldn't get angry. It wouldn't do anyone any good.
***
No, there was NO way in hell I was doing this! No stinking…no, that was insensitive. But there was no way I was going to degrade myself any further. Absolutely not!
I trotted behind Bearig, who once again directed everything in Lionheart's absence. He waved to the rabbit and groundhog crew members affixing the overhead lighting. I went for the tried and true method of tugging his other arm. "Excuse me. Excuse me, Kent. We need to talk."
"Just a minute, Dawn. Hey, you fellas are doing a fantastic job!" He waved at two beavers finishing a Nooks and Novelties façade to cover up the equally fake Lionheart house. "That looks great! Just perfect!"
"Kent," I said, a little more forcefully.
He finally looked down. "Yes, Dawn? How might I help my favorite Prey?"
I shoved the script at him, hoping it'd cover how much I wanted to gag. "Could you please explain this?" I tapped the offensive words.
Bearig pulled the script from my fingers and examined it. "I'm not sure what the problem is. I ran it through proofreading with Oxton-Bay's editors and–"
I grabbed it and laughed nervously. "It's not a proofreading issue, okay? Nothing's misspelled or grammatically incorrect. It's…" Screw it, I was done with formalities. "It's the content. It's a little…problematic."
The black bear eyed me curiously.
Oh, how to explain this to a Pred? Slipping back into the harmless ewe voice I spent years developing, I began. "You told me this would be a simple dramatization, of the night I met Mr. Zorrillo–despite how many times I told you not to drag him into it. You did not inform me about any scene changes–or any changes, period–until you dropped this rehearsal script into my hooves two minutes ago."
Bearig considered this. And, true to his nature, replied with a simple, "So, what exactly is the problem?"
Letting out another nervous laugh, I shook that waste of toner ink and copy paper. "Your script is basically asking me…it's asking me to utterly humiliate myself. For something that will be broadcast to mammals all across Zootopia."
Bearig laughed. "Oh, no, it's not asking you to do that. There's nothing humiliating or degrading about it."
I fought hard not to grind my teeth. "You want me to stumble around after lightning strikes and fall flat on my face into a puddle. And I don't even get any dialogue! All I get is a–and I'm quoting right from the script, here–a "SAD BLEAT"! How is that not a problem?"
"Well, our funding came up a little short, because of other obligations. So Oxton-Bay suggested we create a single PSA, featuring scenarios common for little mammals like yourself. With so many larger animals walking around, it's not unheard of for the little ones to trip and fall. We're spreading awareness, Dawn. And as the Assistant Mayor, it'll have a greater impact when a Predator helps you back onto your feet."
The sheer stupidity! Did he pull that out all by himself, or did Lionheart help him? Resuming my innocent ewe voice (and pushing out justified thoughts of cramming the paper down his damned throat), I countered. "I appreciate your concern for the well-being of others. But this scenario might come off as a tad condescending. Just a smidge."
"We're trying to encourage the good in Zootopians everywhere. It's a simple message, a simple gesture, and the moral will resonate longer with a familiar face."
"I'm not afraid of lightning. And I'm pretty sure not every Prey is, either."
"It's just your motivation."
"Then why don't you get shaken up by a thunderstorm and fall flat on your face?"
He laughed. "I'm clearly not a little mammal."
The script crumpled under my hoof. But Bearing, in a way becoming of someone like him, abandoned the conversation to chat up two jaguars sweeping the fake tarmac. I relaxed my grip. This would all change in due time. I just had to be patient. I smoothed out the paper as best as I could. But even the crease lines didn't completely cover the cue for a SAD BLEAT. Why not? I humiliated myself in public plenty of times before now, right? Knocked onto the floor, paperwork scattered everywhere, some inconsiderate mammal laughing in the hall behind me…
Bearig took off, loudly informing everyone that he was off to consult the Oxton-Bay representatives. Vildemaas shot a disgusted look at his back. I smiled. At least the Prey among them understood how demeaning this was. But I suppose that wasn't enough to sway the Predator majority working behind the cameras. I slid off my glasses and pressed my curled hoof and massaged my forehead. At least that maned idiot wasn't here.
"Smellwether!"
I leapt and bleated, dropping my glasses and script on the floor. Oh, please, oh, please, don't let the lens get cracked. I've already been through three pairs!
A blurred paw grabbed the frames and shoved them onto my face. I nearly jumped again when Lionheart leaned in close. "I see you're working on your acting. Needs improvement. That entire performance looked fake."
"I'm sorry, Sir. I'll get right on that." I crouched and tried to pull the paper out from beneath his right foot. "Um, Mayor, could you please–?"
He obliged, sweeping his foot forward and knocking me onto my back. The paper floated into the air and landed on my face. Fittingly, the SAD BLEAT lined up with my eyes. I quickly rolled onto my knees and clutched the sheet to my chest.
"Practicing looking scared out of your wits? Good thinking, Bellwether."
"Leodore! So glad you could make it!" Bearig chanted from the other side of the Pride Boulevard set.
"This had better be good, Kent." Lionheart mercifully walked away. "I had to cancel a crucial meet-and-greet just to be here."
"And I appreciate the sacrifices you make for the good of the city. Don't think for a moment that I don't."
"Where the hell is my house?" And just like that, the good ol' Mayor nearly broke into a vicious argument with the beaver crew members. "You can't have Pride Boulevard without Lionheart Manor! It's a historic landmark! Where the hell else am I supposed to make that speech to our adoring public?!"
"It's not even real," I groaned. "Might as well get this over with."
Brushing off the maned idiot's ramblings and the damn bear's butt-kissing, I spotted Tyler sitting at the other end of the "street" with another skunk. He smiled and waved. I smiled and waved back. Thank goodness there was at least one mammal here I didn't want to strangle. But before I could say a proper hello, a spoiled-looking leopard marched and called for the filming to begin. Now, it was only a matter of playing the waiting game.
There was no way the scenario would come off as anything but callous. The population was ninety-percent Prey, already burdened with stereotypes of being smaller and weaker. But I couldn't expect Lionheart or Bearig to understand. I glanced over at Tyler. The hyperactive llama pointed to the scripts in their paws. Tyler glared at the page and shook his head at me. I sadly shrugged. Good to know he understood, too.
The lights dimmed as the first scenario played out. An antelope tried to escape the sudden "thunderstorm" of sprinkler water. A conscientious jaguar carefully approached with a Rainforest District-stamped umbrella and held it over her head. She smiled and accepted his kind gesture. I sighed and took a few steps back to wipe the "rainwater" from my lenses.
After that single take, it was my turn. I took a deep breath, willed myself not to fly screaming at Lionheart and Bearig, and walked around to the other side of "Pride Boulevard". In the dim light, Tyler nodded. I nodded back. Here went nothing.
At the leopard's command, I pulled out my smartphone and strode down the plastic sidewalk. I tapped my fingers at the blank screen, trying to act as oblivious as possible. (They truly got what it was like for little mammals, didn't they?) And not quite halfway down, just after the Nooks and Novelties façade, "thunder" exploded behind me. I faked a stumble, and my right foot hooked a crack in the plastic. My glasses and phone flew towards a drier section of the sidewalk. Unfortunately, I tumbled right into the puddle that conveniently collected at the base of the curb. Between coughs and sputters, I swore I heard Lionheart snicker. I bleated sadly.
When I looked up, Tyler held out his paw.
My fingers unclenched and took it. He helped me back to my feet and returned my glasses and phone. I smiled at him. He smiled back at me. I began to blush. And, thankfully, Tyler guided me down that slick sidewalk before any of those idiots could see. Behind us, the leopard shrieked a "Cut!"
"Impressive, Bellwether! Your acting has improved!" It was hard to tell if Leodore was serious or not. But at least it didn't sound like there'd be a second take.
Gently gripping Tyler's wrist, I led us behind the Pride Boulevard set. Another Predator and Prey scenario commenced under more sprinkler rain. The fake thunder boomed, nearly spooking a bellowing ram off what sounded like an ill-placed ladder. Sure enough, a Predator's pads rushed to the rescue. I released his wrist and rubbed my forehead.
"That was stupid," he whispered.
"Thank you." I brushed his arm. The skunk nodded pleasantly.
"No problem. I finally met the illustrious Leodore Lionheart. I suppose that's typical for him?"
"He's not so bad. He's…" No, I wasn't gonna defend that moron. Not now. "He's terrible. But he's The Mayor, and it's what I have to put up with just to make sure things run smoothly."
"You really shouldn't." Tyler walked toward a crate with a towel draped over its side. He lightly shook it and passed it to me. "I'm sorry I can't do much else." He seated himself.
"Believe me, this is enough." I passed him my glasses and carefully toweled off. "I really appreciate it."
He scooted a little to the left. I folded the towel onto my lap and joined him. "Dawn?" When I turned, the skunk kindly fitted my glasses back on. "Good as new."
"Thanks." My hoof brushed his paw. "I'm sorry you got dragged into this. If I hadn't blabbed to Bearig…"
Tyler shook his head. "It's okay. I did this to help you. At the very least, you'd have one friendly face around."
I smiled. "You did this for me?"
"Yeah, I did. And right now, part of me really wants to deck your boss."
I giggled. "As much as I'd love to see that, I don't think it's gonna work."
"I know. Are you hurt?"
"Just my pride."
"Maybe I can help with that."
My fingers slowly interlocked with his. He lightly squeezed my hoof in turn. "Thanks for being here."
The tip of his tail stroked my other arm. He grinned sheepishly. I laughed softly and pushed the towel onto the floor. His tail curled into my lap. I ran my fingers through the black and white-striped fur. Soft bristles caught around my hoof, reminding me a little of rougher wool. I resumed brushing his tail, trying not to giggle as Tyler's face blushed and slackened into a goofier grin. I pulled his tail closer to my chest.
Unfortunately, the moment was ruined when Bearig pitched on the other side. "It's beautiful in its simplicity! We'll call it, "Scents-ible Behavior"!"
His tail retreated behind us. Tyler sighed, but didn't release my hoof. "Please tell me he just has a hard time pronouncing "sensible"."
I shook my head. "Knowing Kent, he fully intends the pun. The whole city's loaded with them." Something trailed up my spine, nearly making me slide off the crate.
The skunk grimaced. "Sorry about that. Stupid tail."
I chuckled. "Just warn me next time, okay?" He instantly relaxed. "I can't wait for Friday," I quietly confessed.
He gave my hoof another light squeeze. "Neither can I."
"Smellwether! Where'd you run off to?!"
Damn it. I reluctantly released Tyler's paw and shuffled off the crate. "Duty calls. Screams, anyway." I flashed him a little smile. "Thank you again."
Before Lionheart would roar further demands, I pressed down my skirt and quickly trotted to the front of the set. The Nooks and Novelties façade was quickly dragged away, finally giving the Mayor the cheap replica of his cheap house. He waved away Bearig, who took that opportunity to thank another crew member. "Where were you? I've got to make a grand speech to the populace, and I can't do that without the Assistant Mayor! Come on, Dawn, you're better than this!
Didn't stop you from giving speeches without me before, Leodore. I took a deep breath and adjusted my glasses. "Yes, Mayor, right away."
He forcefully ushered me to the "front steps" and positioned me to his left. The cameras dollied towards the other side of the street. The lights brightened, as if the sun finally broke through the clouds. How cute. I molded my photogenic smile and tried to steady my slightly sagging headwool. "Pay attention," he grunted, lightly shaking me. I merely nodded and stood perfectly still. Good little ewe. Good little ewe.
The other skunk gave Tyler a nod, set his script aside, and strolled onto the set.
"Hello, I'm Nicky Mephitway, and I'm here to talk to you about something really important. Zootopia is a wonderful city, full of diversity and imagination, hopes and dreams. But we sometimes forget about our neighbors in this great melting pot. Mammals are overlooked, despite our best efforts. So it's up to all of us to do our part and help one another whenever we can." He paused impressively by the fence lining the front of "Lionheart Manor".
And the maned idiot took his cue. "That's right, Mr. Mephitway. Here in Zootopia, we strive to live in harmony and ensure a brighter future for everyone. So I ask each and every one of you to help those in need, no matter how big or small they may be." He suddenly hoisted me onto his left shoulder. Choking back a startled bleat, I smiled and waved. "Assistant Mayor Bellwether and I work together to guarantee the best for our fellow Zootopians. And we ask you to do the same." He raised his right paw. "Together, we'll make the world a better place!"
The leopard shrieked another "Cut!" and called for the crew to clean up. Lionheart groaned. "Bellwether, do you mind?"
As if I needed to be asked to slide off his shoulder. "That was very good, Sir."
"It better be. I don't have time for a second take." He flashed his winning smile at Mr. Mephitway. "You made a great lead-in, Nicky. I love that Thunderbolt's ad."
"Everyone does, sir," the skunk politely replied. He bowed and walked off to discuss matters with the hyperactive llama.
Lionheart gripped my shoulder. "Thanks for not screwing up. You're doing a lot better than usual."
Part of me longed to sink my teeth into his fingers. Instead, I nodded. "Thank you, Sir. I'll make a note of it."
"You do that. You owe me that much, you and Bearig. I had to push aside important matters to get involved in your little project."
"Sir, it wasn't my project. It was Kent's–"
"Give it a rest, Smellwether. I'm late enough at it is. I gotta run back to The Palm and then get ready for my 7:00 at Halibut's. I'm really starting to hook those delegates. And I can't miss out because you and Kent got overly sentimental."
"It wasn't my idea, Sir. I was just as railroaded into this as you were–"
"Will you shut up, already? I've got enough problems going on without having to listen to your obnoxious bleating. I'm a very busy–"
"Excuse me, Mayor."
Lionheart stepped to one side. Tyler walked up, patting down a damp spot on his shirt. His eyes remained locked on the lion. "Sir, with all due respect, your behavior is very unprofessional."
The maned idiot laughed. "Kid, you don't know anything about my line of work. I have to manage the entirety of Zootopia like it was in my own backyard. Laws have to be passed, ordinances have to be made, and the daily troubles of mammals from all walks of life have to be addressed. Do you have any idea how stressful that all is, from one Predator to another?"
Tyler held his stare. "I understand, Mr. Lionheart. But maybe you could try to be a little less abrasive to Ms. Bellwether. She's done a lot for you and–"
Leodore shook his head at me. "Since when did you become so chummy with a skunk?" He turned back to Tyler with his politician's smile. "Bellwether is a hard worker, and a few mere insults aren't going to stop her from doing what has to be done for this city."
"You shouldn't insult her in the first place. I mean, "Smellwether"? What are you, a little cub?"
"Listen, you…" Lionheart set his paws onto Tyler's shoulders. "I'm doing a lot for you, right now. You may not believe it, but I'm currently up to my armpits in matters that may very well determine the futures of Predators like us. And I don't have time to be lectured over something as trivial as playful nicknames."
The skunk shoved away the lion's paws. "It's not trivial. She deserves more respect than that."
"Kid, you don't know what disrespect is."
Tyler stomped his right foot. His De-Scent tag flapped around his shirt collar.
Lionheart smirked. "At ease, Zorrillo. You're not even fighting with a loaded gun." He started off. "Cancel my six-o'clock, would you, Bellwether? I'm gonna be locked in tonight."
The skunk took three more steps and stopped with a defeated sigh. Lionheart disappeared through the metal doors, throwing out another reminder to cancel his six-o'clock. Tyler clutched his head and groaned. His tail coiled and tightened around his legs.
I walked towards him and gently brushed my hoof up and down his back. Tyler's paws fell. His tail slid across my ankles. When he turned around, I embraced him. After a few seconds, he slipped his arms around my waist. Over his shoulder, I spotted a brown donkey crew member smiling at us before departing. I brushed my cheek against his. "Thank you."
"Sorry I can't do more. And sorry your boss sucks."
"Tell me about it." I broke the embrace, but kept my hooves on his arms. "You have no idea how much I appreciate what you did there. Well, tried to do. It'd take a lot to get anything through that thick skull of his."
"And I left my sledgehammer at home."
I gave him another quick hug. "You've done enough."
"I'm glad."
Oh, what the hell. I pecked his cheek as I pulled away. "I can't wait for Friday."
"Me, neither."
I gently squeezed his arm. "I'll walk you out."
Tyler nodded and offered his arm before tucking it against his side. Thunder boomed as the Nooks and Novelties façade dislodged and slammed hard on the tarmac. We watched several crew members, including the brown donkey, rush to push it back into place. I pressed my hoof against my heart. "We'd better get out of here," he said, nervously rubbing the back of his head.
Halfway across the room, Bearig caught up and offered weak congratulations for my performance. I looked over my soaked clothes and sighed. No, I'd deal with that later. Right now, I wanted to put as much distance as I could between myself and those two morons. Mr. Mephitway patted Tyler's back before the overly perky llama dragged him back into a conversation. She was a nice Prey, but she could afford to dial back her Bearig-level enthusiasm a little.
We stepped into the hallway, leaving the chaos behind us. An evil little smile grew on my face. I leaned closer to Tyler. "How would you do it?"
"Do what?"
I stifled a laugh. "Back in there, you said part of you wanted to deck Lionheart. How would you do it?"
Tyler grinned and shrugged. "I'm not really sure. But I feel like a folding chair would've been involved."
I didn't bother to hold back my next laugh. Two rabbit crew members passed and regarded me with strange looks. I waved and waited until they disappeared through the studio doors. "I'm sorry. I was just picturing it. I'm still not sure it could happen, but it was nice to think about."
"Yeah, it is." Tyler pressed the down button and held his arm across the elevator's threshold. "He really shouldn't treat you like that."
"I know." The elevator door closed. "I still appreciate what you did."
Tyler held out his paw. I took it and intertwined our fingers. But his smile wavered as his gaze drifted towards the door. I gently squeezed. His tail stiffened against the back wall. He slowly turned back to me, his smile still breaking. I released his paw and wrapped my arms around him once more. Tyler closed his eyes and settled his paws on my lower back. His tail slackened and coiled behind his feet. I squeezed as tightly as I could. His hot breath tickled my forehead.
I grudgingly let him go seconds before the elevator dinged and the door opened. His smile briefly came back. I returned it and walked with him to the entrance. Tiffany paused long enough to give me an approving nod. Nodding back, I stepped out with Tyler onto Sienna Avenue. He glanced to the left and wiped off a few lingering water drops clinging to the back of his shirt. I laughed. He laughed with me. And when the laughter stopped, he took my hoof, lightly squeezed it, and walked away.
It pained me to watch him disappear down one of Savannah Central's many streets. But we survived Bearig's little stunt. We now had Friday to look forward to. Giddily tapping my hooves together, I quickly walked back inside to cancel Lionheart's six-o'clock.