The Time Traveler's Guide to Zootopia

Chapter 22: The Shrieval Pursuit

"I've got the tiger." I declared. "He's mine."

But I was only talking to myself.

Officer Hopps had already disappeared down her respective alleyway, so we were both now paired up with our own fleeing crooks. Judy had the pesky little hyena, and I had the big brawny tiger. I've done my fair share of foot chases back in the day against looters, but never against an animal, let alone a tiger that should've been the one chasing me. This was about to get fun.

Honestly, I couldn't care less about an antique store being robbed, though I did feel bad for the female raccoon who had to go through all this trouble. Whatever antiques those animals stole, I'm sure they held some type of historical, material, or sentimental value to Zootopia that I wouldn't understand. Heart of the Ocean, Lost Ark, a Football signed by Joe Montana —whatever might've been in that briefcase —it didn't matter to me. Why then did I bother to help Judy pursue these thugs?

Part of it was inner-soldier instinct, another part was doing the right thing, but above all, I was mostly annoyed with the fact that I couldn't get a single sip of that sparkling, ice-cold lemonade. All this running made me exceedingly thirsty, but I promised myself to get a refreshing drink once I caught that feline crook.

Our run through the narrow alleyway quickly converted into a sprint as the tiger would stop at nothing to escape from near capture. Thus, I had to fight back those cramping side aches if I were to have any success at completing this unannounced marathon. Unlike those action movie scenes, my energy wasn't unlimited, so I had every intention of finishing this before I lost my patience and did something I usually wouldn't do.

The buildings along the edges were pretty small, too small for either of us to slip through, so the tiger took a desperate measure by flinging garbage cans in my path. Jeez! There was already enough noise being made between the two of us. The metal was flying everywhere, the lids were clattering, and the glass bottles were shattering along the pavement. Good thing I had boots on, but those poor animals had better summon a cleanup crew soon, or someone would be limping home.

The cans were mainly empty, but they still partially impeded my ability to catch up with him. I nearly tripped on some, leaped over a couple, and stomped on the rest, causing them to smash flat like an empty soda can. Luckily, no one was around to hear all the ruckus except for a handful of armadillos curling up into a tight ball as a natural defensive instinct. As the sounds of bashing metal cans continued, the narrow passage further amplified the thunderous noise.

One of the metal lids conveniently rolled towards me. I snatched it on the run, positioned it in my gauntlet, then flicked my wrist hard to send it flying down the alleyway towards the head of the tiger. Missed. It went too high and shattered the bulb of an overhead lamppost.

"What the devil?" the tiger exclaimed, quizzically looking back at me while prowling.

Irritated, I wished to try again, so I picked up another garbage can lid mid-sprint and repositioned it to be thrown. This one was much bigger than the previous one, so I was eager to land the perfect throw. Just like that, I could put an end to this wild goose chase.

"Huah!" I exerted while heroically flinging the garbage can lid as hard as I could across the alley. It curved through the air, had a promising trajectory, and barely missed the tiger's head by an inch, shattering a nearby flower pot upon impact. "Damn."

While still running, the tiger turned his head around to see who exactly was throwing those metallic frisbees at him. Upon seeing me fast approaching, his face filled with immense anger.

"HEY! What's your problem, freak?" he loudly roared, causing the nearby vermin citizens to skedaddle back into their tiny homes. I was kinda surprised this cat wouldn't go after them. Then again, the animals here had evolved enough not to eat each other.