The peace and quiet of the country on that summery Wednesday morning was a fleeting thing. The pained, growling-whine of the Bushel Fields' police cruiser's older engine lingered in the air, only to be overridden by the deeper roar of the Zootopia Central cruiser that raced along behind it. As if this wasn't enough, the wailing of the ZPD cruiser's siren and occasional gunshots punctuated the high speed chase along the narrow country roads.

William Tusker's cloven hooves gripped the steering wheel tightly and he glanced nervously into the rear-view mirror. His passenger, Simon Renner, was twisted in his seat and snapped off bullets at their pursuers to dissuade them... it wasn't working.

Tusker grabbed the gear-shift and pulled back as he tapped the clutch and then floored the accelerator. The engine, already whining, began to scream in protest. The cruiser began to pull away as it's speed increased... Tusker hoped it would be enough.

Judith Hopps' furred paws flexed upon the steering wheel of her acquired cruiser and she bared her teeth in a predatory grin. Her passenger, Nicholas Wilde, held a pistol out of the window on his side of the vehicle and fired back at the fleeing NWA members. The chief had down-shifted in order to add that little extra burst of speed but he would have to upshift again soon or he would run the risk of the engine burning out. Judy pressed a little harder on the gas and felt the hulking cruiser almost sink a little lower on it's suspension as the turbo kicked in; the small device was a recent addition to the ZPD cruisers and allowed a little more air into the combustion chambers of the engine. The result, of course, being more speed.

And one very happy adrenaline-junkie bunny.

Roads made of tarmac gave way to those made of stones and dirt as the chase continued, the lesser-travelled routes out of Bushel Fields' main locale being less maintained. The cars skidded slightly when, in corners and slight adjustments, the soft earth beneath their wheels was torn asunder and propelled backwards as a wake of dust and gravel.

Renner sat back into his seat and shook his head to clear some of the dust from his fur. His pistol, once again, had been emptied as he fired at his son and that worthless sack of fur that dared to even think she could confront him. A new magazine for the weapon was slammed home and Renner cocked the slide back, ready to fire once more.

He saw, almost at the same time as Tusker did and far too late, the sharp turn ahead and the small sign next to it that 'welcomed' them to Peck Fields, just beyond the rise... the rodent equivalent of Bushel Fields. Renner howled in defiance as their cruiser smashed the sign to splinters and tipped back a few degrees as the ground rose up. The wheels of their cruiser left terra firma and span madly as the car became fully airborne and soared over the miniature houses and stores that were an almost exact scale replica of the village the two NWA leaders had called home all these long years.

Renner quite regretted not wearing a seatbelt when the car landed with a screech of tearing and warping metal on the opposite side of the much-smaller village and his head slammed into the dashboard.

Nick had seen the upcoming turn and warned Judy some moments before, long enough to ease off the gas and take the turn without their cruiser taking a brief and entirely unsuccessful stint as an aircraft. Judy slewed the car through the bend and drove around the tiny houses of Peck Fields before finally coming to a halt next to the crashed cruiser she had pursued for miles.

Nick leapt from the car and levelled his pistols as he ran forwards to confront Renner and Tusker. His paws sent gravel skittering as he ran and he pointedly ignored the dozens of stares upon him from the miniscule residents of the tiny township. He came level with the door of the cruiser and narrowed his eyes; Tusker was still strapped into the driver's seat, the remnants of an airbag that had deployed draped across his lap and face. It appeared his single remaining tusk had struck the fabric at the point of impact and burst it, which had left Tusker completely free to smash his face into the steering wheel and knock himself unconscious. Of Renner, however, there was no sign...

"Nick!" Judy screamed, and Nick stepped back to turn and face her. He froze, however, when he felt the slightly-warm kiss of a gun muzzle being pressed into his temple and a furred forearm slung itself around his throat a moment later.

"You are a great disappointment, Piberius." Renner said from somewhere over Nick's right shoulder. Nick fought a growl and allowed himself to be moved by the other fox, being turned to face Judy and put his own body between her guns and his father.

"Well, dad, maybe if we'd played ball a little more..." Nick said with a forced grin.

"Give it up, Renner." Judy said. She held a single pistol, the other still in it's holster, and aimed it carefully with both paws on the grip. Nick was rather concerned to see that the barrel wavered.

"Stay back, lunchtime, or the ginger-nut gets it." Renner said with a growl.

Nick tried to turn his head. "Seriously? We've got the same colour of fur. That hurts. I always thought of it as a nice mix between 'Terracotta' and 'Moroccan Flame'-"

The hammer of Renner's pistol was pulled back with an ominous click. "Shut. Up."

"Shutting up, sir."

"You can't win this, Simon." Judy said. Nick watched as the small bunny stepped closer. "It's only us here at the moment but soon the back-up I called in from Zootopia will get here, and then where will you go?"

"You're going to let me get into that car and drive off into the sunset, you little runt. I'll be keeping junior here as insurance."

"How can I be a 'junior' if our names are completely different?"

"Shut UP, Piberius!"

Nick saw Judy roll her eyes. "Now I know where he gets it from. Renner, you're not going anywhere."

Renner smiled dangerously. "I may not be... but you're going somewhere."

Judy smirked. "Oh yeah? Where?"

"Hell."

Nick felt the muzzle of Renner's gun move from his head and saw it when it came into his peripheral vision; Renner was going to kill his partner. Nick stamped his foot down onto Renner's and, when the older fox flinched, he bit down hard on the arm that had held him still.

Nick tasted blood and meat. Renner screamed in pain. The gun fired.

A small puff of dirt next to Judy's foot made her blink. Nick was far too close to Renner to risk a shot and the two foxes were now swiping their claws at one another in a desperate paw-fight. Nick was capable but Renner had the advantage of experience. Judy knew what she had to do, even though every instinct she had screamed at her not to.

She threw away her pistols and started to run right at the two foxes.

"You!" Renner yelled as his balled fist slammed hard into Nick's face. Nick stumbled back, dazed from the blow, and Renner followed it up.

"Little!" was the next word in the sentence, accompanied by a vicious backpaw that made Nick see stars.

"Rutter!" was the final word, and was delivered with a heavy double-pawed blow to the back of Nick's head that left him sprawled upon the floor. He was level with the worried onlookers from Peck Fields, and their tiny expressions of horror at the violent scene playing out in the middle of their homes was the last thing he saw as he slipped into the sweet embrace of sleep.

Simon Renner raised a foot above his defeated son and prepared to stamp down on the worthless little mutt's neck when he heard the rapid thump-thumping of little feet running towards him. He looked towards the source of the noise and was rewarded with the sight of the tiny grey bunny who had helped his son destroy the perfect utopian ideal sprinting at him.

The bunny pounced and Simon dived aside; three feet of flying rabbit soared past harmlessly and landed with a roll. He hunched over slightly and flexed his claws. This, he thought, was going to be very easy.

Judy Hopps used the momentum of her roll to slap her feet onto the ground and propel herself up. She swivelled her hips and, when her feet next touched the earth, she was facing Simon Renner and was standing almost to attention. The fox stood in a threat-posture, his arms wide to cut off her escape routes and his claws extended and ready to disembowel her at the smallest opportunity. His teeth glinted in the sunshine, and a low growl marred his every breath.

Judy bared her teeth in a far less impressive display. She turned her left foot outwards and slid her right forwards in a semi-circular motion. Her paws rolled up in line with her body then turned over one another, coming to rest in front of her with pads-down and with her own little claws extended.

This was going to be very easy. "Hey Renner," she said with a quick nod towards Nick's prostrate body. "Leave the little guy alone and pick on someone your own size."

Renner gave a grunt of amusement. "Is that meant to concern me, rabbit? I'm bigger than you; I'm higher in the food chain. And you think you stand a chance? You and your little whatever-that-is?" he said with a wave of his paw at her stance. "It's almost time for lunch. And mother always did say I shouldn't play with my food... too much."

"I guess we should stop playing then, Simon. Gonna yip all day or are you going to come get what's coming to you?"

"With the greatest of pleasure."

Renner took a large step forward and swiped a paw down at Judy's face. Judy darted forward within Renner's reach, jumped and slammed her elbows into his sternum. Her feet touched the floor again and she kicked out sideways to her right; her foot struck Renner in the side of his left knee and knocked him off-balance. He swiped his paws towards his chest as he fell and Judy somersaulted forward between the collapsing archway of his legs to avoid them. She stood, turned on her heels and brought her paws forward into the same position she had started in.

Renner, now a lump of fur on the floor, roared and pushed himself to his feet; he limped slightly on his left leg. "I'm going to tear you limb from limb for that!" he said.

"If you can touch me. Did you know I once beat up a rhino?"

Renner barked as he lunged forward at Judy, claws-first. Judy ducked and hopped forward in a move that brought her almost muzzle-to-muzzle with her opponent. She kicked her left leg up and into Renner's chin and his mouth snapped shut with a painful click as his teeth came together. She hopped and performed a spin-kick that slapped Renner in the whiskers and overbalanced him completely. The fox, on all fours, toppled and hit the ground. His clawed feet came up and made to tear into her but Judy jumped up and flipped; a solid overhead axe-kick caught Renner in soft flesh of his midsection, below the ribs, and knocked the air from his lungs. Judy kicked up and flipped away as his paws grasped at his stomach reflexively. She had a moment of respite before Renner lunged forward with his mouth of all things, his jaws wide to catch her. Judy hopped back and swiped her feet, sending a little cloud of dirt into his open maw. Renner choked and she darted forward, past the dangers of his teeth and paws and dropped her full weight, elbow-first, on his carotid artery.

Simon Renner's eyes bulged and he gave a choked gurgle of pain before he passed out from the sudden spike in his blood pressure.

Judy stepped away from Renner's body and shook herself off. She looked towards Nick and was happy to see him stir. "Nick!"

Nick groaned. "Five more minutes."

Judy ran to her partner and helped him roll over. Behind her the diminutive residents of Peck Fields cried and cheered for her but she barely noticed. "Nick, we won! I kicked his ass!"

Nick winced. "I'm happy for you, but please... I hurt."

Judy raised both paws in the air and whooped loudly in celebration; her cheers joined those of the mice and rodent spectators. Nick managed a weak grin.

Above the village, a helicopter branded in the colours of Precinct One flew by, and heralded the arrival of the cavalry.

Nick and Judy sat on a low wall with blankets about their shoulders. What seemed like the full fleet of cruisers and SWAT vans from Precinct One littered the streets around them in the square, and at least half a dozen ambulances sat with the injured NWA members handcuffed to stretchers inside.

Bogo, it seemed, had deemed Judy's warning and subsequent ignoring of him to authorise the full mobilisation of the force at his disposal. The large buffalo stood by the fountain in the square and bellowed orders to anyone who wasn't doing their jobs as efficiently as he believed they could be.

Nick sighed. "Y'know, Carrots," he said, "we really need to stop running into stuff like this."

Judy gave an amused huff. "Seriously, Nick? I don't remember signing up to star in an action movie. This was... well. This was way beyond anything I could have imagined."

"I know... I know."

The pair sat in relative silence for a few moments before Nick broke the silence again.

"So to recap; we get sent on holiday, uncovered a seething hotbed of corruption, murder and cult activity, found my deadbeat dad, beat up said deadbeat dad..."

"And you are never going on holiday again!" Bogo yelled from the fountain.

Judy started to giggle. "You know, Nick, we do still have to sort out all the pa-"

"Don't you dare say it. Not yet. Just let me have a little while longer before reality kicks back in."

"Paper-"

"Don't do it."

"... Pap-"

"I'm warning you."

Judy looked Nick up and down. "What're you going to do, exactly, Nick; bleed on me?"

"Madam, I will have you know that I earned my injuries in a daring attempt to stop a murderer from shooting a police officer."

"Who I beat up with my bare paws after you got knocked out."

"Hence 'attempt'. And I'd say it worked; you aren't shot, are you?"

"Not this time."

"Then I call it a win."

"We can't call it a win until we finish... Paperwork."

Nick groaned heavily and let himself slip backwards off the low stone wall and landed with a thud on the soft grass behind it.

The sound of pens scritching their way across multiple pieces of paper in the Bushel Fields police station was broken by small chuckles. The local officers, Nick and Judy were all seated at their desks and, while they filled paperwork, were being entertained by the tale of Nick's valiant efforts as a hostage in the brief standoff outside of Peck Fields.

"So Nick's being held there by Renner; a gun is pressed to his head and Renner looked peeved..." Judy said with a laugh. "and he said 'stay back, lunchtime, or the ginger-nut gets it!'... like I was just some sort of microwave meal or something."

"You're more of a snack-size, Carrots," Nick said with a smirk. "And I couldn't let the ginger thing go so I said 'We're the same colour, moron!'... I wish I could've seen the look on his face."

The officers laughed hard. "It was a picture, Nick, but not as good as yours. If I hadn't been holding my gun I'd've pulled my phone out and you'd be plastered all over the station."

"You monster." Nick said and put a paw over his chest. "That gets me right here, Carrots."

Judy stood from her chair and stretched her paws above her head. "And I am getting some coffee. We'll end up being here all night, I think. Anyone want one?"

"I'd kill for a cup." came a low voice from the corridor.

Judy froze and the other officers turned to face the intruder. Tom, the camera-watching stoat from the NWA office upstairs, stood in the doorway with a blunderbuss aimed squarely at Judy.

Judy raised her paws slowly. "Now, Tom, think this through. At the moment you've done nothing too wrong; we can settle this with words, not violence."

"I suppose you're right, Officer Hopps... we can solve this with words." Tom said with a manic grin. "The greater good!"

Nicholas Piberius Wilde had always heard mammals say that your life flashed before you when you were about to die. He'd also read a quote from a very smart ferret that stated it was true, just that the flash actually was your life.

He found he agreed with both. Time, of which he had precious little remaining if his impression was correct, moved far too quickly and yet he felt every single grain of sand move through the hourglass of his destiny. Nick pushed himself out of his chair as he had flashbacks to his youth, to the small kit he had been in his scout ranger uniform and the fear and the dread and the sadness and a thousand emotions besides. He tensed his legs as he ran his first con, dug his claws into the carpeted floor of the station as he gave Mr Big the skunk butt rug, and pounced as Judy hit 'play' on that carrot pen for the first time.

His life caught up with life at the exact moment the blunderbuss roared and the buckshot caught him in his chest. Nick felt pain that already started to fade as his world turned dark; he felt sorrow at this, the end of all things. He felt anger that he had been cheated of time. He felt relief that the little grey bunny who had just kicked a trashcan over him and into Tom's face hadn't been hit.

He watched through his fading vision as Judy leapt over his body and delivered a fly-kick to the stoat's chest. He smiled in spite of the pain as the treacherous mammal fell backwards and through the open door of the evidence room.

He felt dismay in his final moments of lucidity as Tom fell past the sea-mine he and Judy had seized from old Arthur Webley; the rusted old weapon had been caught on Tom's tweed jacket and been pulled over... and triggered.

Nick's world disappeared in a roar of explosion and a billowing flame.

Six months later, Judy Hopps stepped through the front doors of Precinct One and waved to Benjamin Clawhauser. The heavy-set cheetah squealed in delight at the sight of her and, more specifically, the new rank-pins attached to the collar of her uniform.

"Oh-em-goodness; look at you! You look as good as new! It's been so boring around here without you and- and..."

Judy gave a soft smile as she approached the front desk. "It's okay, Ben... you can say his name. I'm past it now, I think."

"Judy, how can you say that? He sacrificed himself for you!"

"Yeah, Hopps! I mean, come on; I took something like a thousand shots for you."

Judy rolled her eyes and glared at Nick Wilde, who had appeared from behind Clawhauser's desk and looked almost completely normal aside from his fur being a little shorter. Singed hair did tend to take a while to grow back, after all, and she'd had an easier time of it with being smaller. "Nick, you took one shot for me. One. And somehow in doing so managed to ruin another of my favourite shirts."

"Technically Tom set off the mine."

"But you getting shot once made me kick him into it."

"It wasn't one, Carrots, it was buckshot!"

"It still only counts as one, Nick."

"Judyyyy..."

The two partners walked away from Clawhauser to the bullpen for the morning briefing, still arguing, and passed through the large doors. Benjamin Clawhauser smiled widely to himself and rested his chin on his paws.

Things just weren't right without those two around to cause mayhem. And now they were back...

Benjamin Clawhauser smirked. "I think it's time I 'shipped' those two properly... all in the name of the greater good."

The intercom crackled and Bogo's voice came through loud and static-laden. "Clawhauser, stop being creepy, I can feel it from in here."

Clawhauser winced and tapped a claw onto the transmit button. "Sorry, Chief..."

More static. "Besides, I've got fifty bucks riding on the first date being two weeks from now."

"Awwwwwww Chiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeee-"

Fin.

And there we go; Hot Fuzz is now complete. It's been a great little ride with you all, and it's been a lot of fun stretching my writing muscles once again. I will be continuing to write for Zootopia and I'll definitely be trying a few other ideas as time goes on.

I really hope you've enjoyed my work, and by all means leave a review or send me a PM if you feel like it. I'm more than pleased with what I've received already, so anything extra really is just gravy now.

There are a lot of references in all of the chapters, from not-so-subtle nods at Terry Pratchett and HR Giger to One Punch Man and South Park. Who knows if you've found all of them?

16/11/2018 - Dear anonymous user who keeps reviewing this and The Locker Room; you... do realise that I'm deleting your reviews all the time because you're just trolling, right? Your 'criticism' is not constructive, nor welcome. I've been pretty happy to let you just carry on with your life because all it takes for me to remove your comments is three mouse-clicks, and I have no issue with doing that until the end of time itself if needs be, because I don't want your toxic language in my reviews for people to read.

My readers and myself are not 'f*ggots', 'autistic r*tards' or 'too stupid to notice'. Also there's nothing to be ashamed of if you are a virgin, or if you enjoy copious amounts of healthy sex.

You are wasting your own time with your little copy-paste rants, and until you leave something vaguely constructive without resorting to insults, I will continue to delete your reviews. I don't mind if you want to leave your piece saying the stories are bad or whatever, that's your right, but I will continue to perform the pathetically minuscule amount of effort I need to put in so that your insults get removed whenever you post them.

I hope you find something better to entertain yourself with in the future.