Chapter 7

A little while later, Judy was writing parking tickets in Sahara Square when she noticed Nick and his kid a few blocks away. “Oh! Hey, little toot-toot!” she called, waving, but they didn’t see her.

She started toward them but stopped suddenly when she realized what they were doing. They were melting the giant Jumbo-pop she had bought for them in the hot sun. Then they were channeling the juice into little jugs. Judy furrowed her brow as she watched Nick and his kid packing the full jugs into the back of a van. Her eyes nearly fell out of her head when she saw Nick’s little son get into the driver’s seat! Then they drove off. Judy was shocked and confused.

She hopped in her cart and followed them to the coldest section of Zootopia—Tundratown. Nick’s son was using his little paws to make molds in the snow, which Nick then put sticks in. Then the two poured the juice from the melted Jumbo-pop into the molds to create dozens of smaller pops! Judy looked on, scandalized. She couldn’t believe it!

Judy followed them again, this time to Savanna Central, where they set up a stand and sold “pawpsicles” at marked-up prices to lemmings.

“Pawpsicles! Get your pawpsicles!” barked Nick.

One lemming bought an icy treat, and then the rest of them followed. In an instant, the frozen desserts were completely sold out! Once the lemmings finished their pawpsicles, they threw the sticks into a recycling bin. When the lemmings were gone, a small door opened in the bin and the little fox—who, Judy realized, was not an adorable toddler but a fully grown Fennec fox named Finnick—stepped out with a bundle of used pawpsicle sticks. Judy was having trouble believing her eyes.

She continued to follow Nick and Finnick to Little Rodentia, where Nick plopped down the bundle of used sticks in front of a mouse construction worker and shouted, “Lumber delivery!”

“What’s with the color?” asked the construction worker.

“The color? It’s red wood,” answered Nick, shrugging off the question as he accepted his payment.

The construction workers hauled the sticks away, and Judy watched in awe as Nick handed Finnick his share of the cash.

“Thirty-nine...forty. There you go. Way to work that diaper, big guy. What, no kiss bye-bye for Daddy?” Nick asked jokingly.

“You kiss me tomorrow, I’ll bite your face off,” said Finnick in a deep voice. “Ciao.” Finnick hopped into his van and drove off, blaring loud rap music.

Judy appeared in front of Nick, her face burning with anger. “I stood up for you. And you lied to me! You liar!” she yelled.

“It’s called a hustle, sweetheart,” said Nick coolly. “And I’m not the liar, he is.” Nick pointed behind Judy. She turned but saw no one standing there. When she whipped back around, Nick was gone! Then she spotted his tail disappearing behind a corner.

“Hey,” she said, hurrying to catch up as Nick strolled along. “All right, slick Nick, you’re under arrest.”

“Really, for what?”

“Gee, I don’t know. How about selling food without a permit, transporting undeclared commerce across borough lines, false advertising—”

“Permit.” Nick smiled as he showed Judy the document. “Receipt of declared commerce.” He showed her a receipt. “And I did not falsely advertise anything. Take care.”

“You told that mouse the pawpsicle sticks were redwood,” Judy said.

“That’s right,” said Nick smugly. “Red. Wood. With a space in the middle. Wood that is red. You can’t touch me, Carrots. I’ve been doing this since I was born.”

“You’re gonna want to refrain from calling me Carrots.”

“My bad,” said Nick. “I just naturally assumed you came from some little carrot-choked Podunk, no?”

“Ah, no,” Judy replied, as if to say “obviously not.” “Podunk is in Deerbrooke County. I grew up in Bunnyburrow.”

“Okay. Tell me if this story sounds familiar.” Nick’s tone changed as he began to talk quickly and boldly. “Naïve little hick with good grades and big ideas decides, ‘Hey, look at me, I’m gonna move to Zootopia, where predators and prey live in harmony and sing “Kumbaya”!’ Only to find—whoopsie, we don’t all get along. And that dream of being a big-city cop? Double whoopsie! She’s a meter maid. And whoopsie number threesie, no one cares about her or her dreams. Soon enough those dreams die and our bunny sinks into emotional and literal squalor, living in a box under a bridge. Until, finally, she has no choice but to go back home with that cute fuzzy wuzzy tail between her legs to become—You’re from Bunnyburrow? So let’s say a carrot farmer? Sound about right?”

Judy stood speechless. She couldn’t believe Nick had figured out her fears so quickly. A passing rhino almost pushed her down, knocking her out of her thoughts.

“Be careful now,” warned Nick. “Or it won’t just be your dreams getting crushed.”

“Hey, hey!” she said, trying to pull herself together. “No one tells me what I can or can’t be! Especially not some jerk who never had the guts to try and be anything more than a pawpsicle hustler.”

“All right, look, everyone comes to Zootopia thinking they can be anything they want. Well, you can’t. You can only be what you are.” He pointed to himself. “Sly fox.” Then he pointed to her. “Dumb bunny.”

“I am not a dumb bunny.”

“Right. And that’s not wet cement.”

Judy looked down to see that she was ankle-deep in gooey wet cement. She sighed in dismay.

“You’ll never be a real cop,” Nick said obnoxiously. “You’re a cute meter maid, though. Maybe a supervisor one day. Hang in there.”

Frustrated, Judy watched as Nick walked off. Then she set about pulling her paws out of the cement.

第 7 章

不久之后，朱迪正在撒哈拉广场开违规停车罚单，这时她发现尼克和他的孩子就在几个街区之外的地方。“哦!嗨，小嘟嘟!”她边喊边挥手，但是他们没有看见她。

朱迪朝他们走去，但是当她意识到他们在做什么时，她突然收住了脚步。他们正在炎热的太阳下融化她给他们买的那根巨大的超级冰棍。然后他们又将融化的冰棍水装进一个个小罐子里。朱迪看到尼克和他的孩子将装满冰棍水的罐子搬到一辆面包车的后车厢里，不禁皱起了眉头。当她看到尼克的小孩坐在驾驶员的座椅上时，她惊得双目圆瞪!紧接着，他们把车开走了。朱迪既觉得震惊不已，又感到困惑不解。

她赶紧跳上巡逻车，尾随他们来到了动物城最寒冷的地带——冰川镇。尼克的儿子正把小小的手掌印在雪地上做模型，尼克再把冰棒棍放进这些手掌模型中。然后这两人将融化超级冰棍得到的汁水倒进模型中，从而制作出了几十个小一点的冰棍!朱迪在一旁观看着，异常震惊。她觉得难以置信!

朱迪再次跟踪他们，这次他们来到了热带草原中部区。他们在那里搭了个货摊，把梅花掌冰棍高价卖给旅鼠。

“梅花掌冰棍!来买梅花掌冰棍!”尼克大声叫卖道。

一只旅鼠买了一份冰爽的冰棍，然后其他旅鼠纷纷仿效。一瞬间，这种冷饮就销售一空!旅鼠们吃完梅花掌冰棍，就将冰棒棍扔进了垃圾回收箱里。旅鼠们刚一离开，垃圾箱上的一个小门就打开了，一只小狐狸——朱迪意识到，他根本就不是一个可爱的小家伙，而是一只叫小飞的成年大耳狐——攥着一把用过的冰棒棍走了出来。朱迪觉得太难以置信了。

她继续跟踪尼克和小飞来到了小型啮齿动物镇，尼克扑通一声将那捆用过的冰棒棍放在一只做建筑工人的老鼠面前，然后高声喊道：“木材交货!”

“这颜色是怎么回事?”那位建筑工人问道。

“颜色?这可是红木。”尼克一边收钱，一边不屑一顾地回答了这个问题。

那位建筑工人将那些木棍拖走了，尼克把小飞的那份钱给了他，而朱迪则看得目瞪口呆。

“39……40。这是你的。拿去买尿布吧，大家伙。怎么，不和老爸来个吻别吗?”尼克戏谑地问道。

“明天你要是再亲我，我就咬掉你的脑袋。”小飞用一种低沉的声音说道。“再会。”小飞跳上他的面包车，放着吵闹的说唱音乐，一溜烟地把车开走了。

朱迪出现在尼克面前，脸上怒火冲天。“我之前还维护你，而你却对我撒谎!你这个骗子!”她尖声叫道。

“这就叫买卖，亲爱的，”尼克冷冷地说道，“再说我也不是骗子，他才是。”说完，尼克指了指朱迪背后。她转过去却发现没人站在那里。当她急忙再转回身时，尼克已溜之大吉!就在这时，她发现尼克的尾巴逐渐消失在街角。

“嗨，”她说着，匆忙追上去，而尼克正闲庭信步，“好吧，老滑头尼克，你被逮捕了。”

“真的吗?什么理由?”

“呃，我不知道。你觉得这些理由怎么样：未经许可贩卖食品，跨区运输未申报的商品，虚假广告——”

“许可证。”尼克面带笑容地将文件展示给朱迪看。“贸易申报收据，”说着，他又把一张收据拿给她看了看，“而我也没有为任何商品做虚假广告。说话当心点。”

“你跟老鼠说梅花掌冰棒棍是红木。”朱迪说道。

“对啊，”尼克自鸣得意地说道，“红色，木头。中间有个停顿。红颜色的木头。你斗不过我的，胡萝卜。我从生出来就干这种事。”

“你不可以叫我胡萝卜。”

“很抱歉，”尼克说道，“我只是想当然地认为你来自某个胡萝卜堆成山的波登克小镇，不是吗?”

“哦，不是，”朱迪回答道，似乎想说“显然不是”，“波登克在迪尔布鲁克县。我是在兔窝镇长大的。”

“好吧。听听这个故事是不是很熟悉。”尼克的语速加快，言辞激烈，语气也变了。“天真的乡下小姑娘，学习成绩优秀，胸怀远大抱负，下定决心说，‘嘿，看看我，我要搬去动物城了;在那里，食肉动物与猎物和睦相处，共唱圣歌!’结果却发现——糟糕，不是所有人都相处得那么融洽。那个想去大城市当警察的梦想怎么样了呢?又糟了!她只是个处理违章停车的女交警。更糟糕的是，谁也不在乎她和她的梦想。很快，那些美梦就会破灭，而我们的小兔子就会沦落到道德败坏、生活悲惨的境地，只能住在大桥底下的纸箱里。直到最终，她走投无路，只得拖着那条毛茸茸的、可爱的尾巴，灰溜溜地卷铺盖回家，去当——你来自兔窝镇?那么比如说去当种胡萝卜的菜农?听上去合情合理吧?”

朱迪哑口无言地站在一旁。尼克这么快就弄清楚了她的恐惧，她觉得匪夷所思。一头犀牛从旁边经过，差一点把她推倒，将她从思绪中拉了回来。

“现在可要当心点，”尼克警告她，“否则到时候破碎的可就不只是你的梦想。”

“喂，喂!”她说着，试图振作起来，“谁也决定不了我的人生。特别是那些从来没有勇气做出尝试，只会贩卖梅花掌冰棍的小人物。”

“好吧，瞧瞧，每个人来到动物城，都认为自己能心想事成。不过，你不行。你只能做你自己。”他指了指自己，说道：“狡猾的狐狸。”然后又指向她，说道：“愚蠢的兔子。”

“我不是愚蠢的兔子。”

“好吧。那也不是没有干的水泥。”

朱迪低下头，只见自己的脚踝已经深陷在黏糊糊的、还未干的水泥中。她失落地叹了口气。

“你永远也做不了一名真正的警察，”尼克粗暴无礼地说道，“不过，你是个可爱的女交警。也许有一天能当个主管。坚持到底就好。”

朱迪灰心丧气地看着尼克渐渐走远。接着，她开始试着把爪子从水泥里拔出来。