A request instead of a favor? Oh, good. He had me worried there. I thought sarcastically. When is this ever going to end?
The cheetah motioned me closer and whispered, "Maybe you could convince the director to let my daughter's friend perform in the musical. It would mean the world to her!"
I paced back and forth, placing a fist on my head. "If that's the only way I'm getting an Amazon Supreme pizza, then so be it."
He smiled gratefully, extending his paw "Here, I can put those pawpsicles in the freezer for safekeeping, and I'll work on your pizza as soon as my daughter's friend is accepted on the show."
This was all feeling really dragged out. I guess this is what happens when you become a police officer in Zootopia. I guess these favors have to end eventually... right?
After handing Diego the pawpsicles, I headed for the exit. As soon as I stepped outside, I quickly realized the air had grown slightly warmer than before. In addition, there was forest vegetation on both sides of the river, meaning the entire restaurant had floated downstream since I entered.
Once the river current calmed down, I used the wooden ramp to cross back onto solid land. I followed a dirt trail that eventually led me to the Rainforest District Station, where I waited for the next train. I would've tried out the gondola lift - it looked fun and convenient - but my weight exceeded the ZTA's maximum capacity. Plus, the cabins were too damn small. Either way, I boarded the train and headed toward downtown Zootopia.
The musical rehearsals were in a mixed-use skyscraper just off Lionheart Ave, where the theater itself was accessible via a backstage alleyway. I saw animal crew members unloading stage props and sound equipment from their semi-truck trailers and followed one of them inside.
Perhaps someone would've caught me by now - possibly a security guard or two - but that didn't happen. To my surprise, I blended in relatively well with the crowd, mainly because all the actors wore space-themed costumes. However, their outfits weren't the realistic or dystopian-themed type like mine, but rather the cheesy and arcade-themed type from the 90s. In other words, mine was metallic and alloy... while theirs was plastic and spandex, which were cheap ass materials.
Regardless, I could tell this production was high budget. Most of the props were about as large as an elephant, requiring cranes and pulleys to maneuver them around - such as planets, moons, and stars. Their alignments were inaccurate compared to my world, but who would care? They also had steel towers filled with lights, speakers, elevators, and special effects machines. The list could go on.
"All right, folks, tomorrow, we have our first run-through, so let's get this show in shipshape shape!" the director announced over the megaphone.
"Groups 1, 2, and 3, you're up!"
"Let's go, let's go," someone clapped.
Mammal actors began funneling their way onto the stage. Over in the far corner, a young cheetah hurriedly zipped up her green alien costume and grabbed her paper script.
"Porsha, I'm so sorry... but I have to go and rehearse now," the cheetah hugged her female wolf friend, who wasn't wearing a costume. "I'll call you later tonight, okay?"
The wolf said nothing, burrowing her head into her paws and sobbing uncontrollably.
What a drama queen, I thought despisingly.
With hesitation, the cheetah rejoined the rest of her peers on stage, leaving her crying wolf friend behind. She was a tall Arctic-gray wolf with yellow eyes and bluish-grey and white fur. Instead of a stage costume, she wore casual clothes. She had purple sunglasses, a dark blue jacket with multicolored accents, yellow trousers, and a vintage blue t-shirt with a gazelle on the front.
YOU ARE READING
The Time Traveler's Guide to Zootopia
AdventureA human soldier from a doomed futuristic civilization traverses through the fabrics of space and time to flee mankind's imminent extinction, only to stumble upon Zootopia - a diverse world unlike any other. Namely, an antiquated society filled with...