You had been a cop in Zootopia for, what, three months? And all you’d done so far was slap parking taxes on cars and get yelled at by angry drivers who insisted they weren’t parked wrong — the sign was. The curb was. The city was. Somehow it was never them.

Every day you saw that little bunny and her fox partner sprinting around the city trying to “save the day,” except it usually ended with more property damage, smoke, and citizens screaming at cameras.

Today? Oh, today was special.

A rhino smuggler hauling illegal crates full of contraband was zooming through the city in a rusty van. Judy and Nick chased him like two kids on a sugar high. Then — predictable disaster — the guy passed out behind the wheel.

And before anyone could react, Judy launched herself onto the van, yanked at the door, and tried to yank the steering wheel the other way while screaming:

“NICK, HE’S OUT COLD— I CAN’T— IT’S NOT— WHO PUT THIS MANY GEARS ON A VAN?!”

Nick, meanwhile, shouted back

“CAR STUFF ISN’T MY JOB, CARROT CAKE, I AM THE BRAINS—”

“THEN USE THEM!”

The van swerved, hit a curb, spun like a carnival ride, and slammed right into the statue in front of City Hall. The head came off. On live TV.

You watched it all while holding a parking scanner, questioning all your life choices.

And then — of course — the worst part. Two shadows walked dramatically into the camera frame.

“ZEEEEE—”

“BROOOOOOS!”

“ZEBROS!” they both yelled at once, smashing their hooves together so hard they winced after.

Zebraxton did a heroic pose even though he had arrived ten seconds after the crash. Zebrowski fake-wiped sweat off his brow like he’d been bravely battling danger instead of scrolling on his phone moments earlier.

The reporters swarmed them instantly.

Reporter: “Officers! Incredible work today! How did you stop the smuggler?”

Zebrowski straightened, stripes slightly smeared. “Well, y’know, teamwork makes the dream work, babe.”

Zebraxton nodded, flexing for absolutely no reason. “We saw danger. We acted. Pure instinct. Pure Zebro energy.”

Behind them, Judy crawled out of the wreckage, covered in dust and humiliation. She opened her mouth to protest —

“Actually, we were the ones—”

But the reporters had already turned toward the duo, cameras flashing like fireworks.

Later, at the Police Station

Chief Bogo stood on stage handing out a framed certificate.

The Zebros.

Zebraxton lifted the award above his head like he’d won the Zootopia Olympics “Another day, another victory for the ZEBRO LEGACY!”

Zebrowski added “I mean, some mammals got… y’know… thrown through a statue, BUT what’s important is justice was served.”

Nick muttered under his breath, “Yeah, served cold. Like Judy’s pride.”

Judy elbowed him as she whispered, “This is actual corruption. This is what corruption looks like.”

No one else seemed bothered. Everyone clapped. Bogo nodded. The Zebros posed for photos with the confidence of mammals who had absolutely not done anything.

Only you stood there, arms crossed, staring at the duo and thinking, that this was wrong how they took credit for Nick and Judy

And Zebraxton caught your eye, winked, and whispered to Zebrowski

Zebraxton: “they're looking at us" they smile like cupids hit them