nick wilde

Jack had a bug in his ear about Nick Wilde. Sly, slick, and always JUST dodging out of the way of incoming traffic, and most of all trouble. Walking the strip after duty, Jack spotted that head of hair from a mile away. Didn’t really matter what color it was— brown today, but what would it be next week? Suspect to change at the drop of a hat. And even so, Jack would always spot him.

“If it isn’t little Nicky himself,” Jack announced, taking in their surroundings. An overcrowded Bluth’s Original Frozen Banana set up in its usual spot, and Wilde scarfing one down. “You pay for that one?” Doubtful. “What are you doing down this far south of the strip, buddy? Let me guess… a little SIDE HUSTLE may-haps?” Mmm, more likely.

Blue piercing eyes scanned down the length of Nick’s body, noticing a little green bill poking out from the pockets well over stuffed. As usual, Jack was just a few minutes too late. “BIG side hustle, even. What’s it tonight, Nicky? Let’s see it. I’m ready to have my mind blown.”

Jack leaned in a little close to tell him to— “DELIVER.”

Jack didn’t scare Nick. He was more of a nuisance than anything, an annoying little gnat with handcuffs and an authority complex. Nothing Nick couldn’t handle. Plus, he never acted out on the things he caught Nick doing, but Nick made sure he left almost no evidence, no proof of anything he’d done, no trail. Tonight would be no different. He just happened to have wads of cash in his pockets. That was his business.

“Came for a treat,” was his nearly full-mouthed reply to Jack’s first question, the chocolate-covered banana turning to mush, but also buying him time. “How long have you been watching me? Doesn’t seem like real detective work, if you ask me. A waste of good, hard-working citizen money.” Which was all bullshit, but it flowed from his mouth so easily, leaning on the banana stand with a casual stance to let Jack know his presence had no affect on him. If anything, it was like a meeting of two old pals. Tom and Jerry. Wile E. Coyote and the Road Runner.

Nick avoided the strip as much as possible, especially during the busy seasons, which lately was bordering on all goddamn 365 days of the year (seriously, it was the desert in the middle of the summer, what the hell.) Whatever marketing they were doing to get people here seemed to be working, the streets as crowded as ever, and as much as Nick appreciated new suckers people to take advantage of, trying to get to his usual haunts was becoming something of a burden. Sure, it meant more people to make him appear inconspicuous, disappearing in and out of the crowds like a phantom, but still. It was a n n o y i n g. 

People were still arriving in droves, with an apparent death wish, and tonight was no different. Nick’s pockets were feeling a little too light, something he tried actively to avoid, never wanting money to be something he had to think twice about or worry over, sighing as he accepted his fate, kissing his apartment goodbye for a bit.

Still, despite the noise and clear fire hazard, something about the glittering lights comforted him as he weaved his way in and out of groups of people looking for their next thrill, toothpick hanging out of his mouth, trying to think of where his spot would be tonight. He wasn’t exactly up for a round of blackjack or trying his ‘luck’ at the poker tables, seemingly have been banned from a few, and the idea of the high rollers was out. He wasn’t that desperate. He needed something a little more.. straightforward. 

Scamming people out of their money was much easier on the strip, setting up shop next to one of the smaller but still busy stands, flashing people a smile and a promise to dazzle them, hand tricks, giving them double their money if they could prove them wrong, catch him in his lies, feeling the money in his pockets grow as more and more people came by, intrigued by his little sideshow. If this was some old timey cartoon, dollar signs would be flashing in front of his eyes, racking up by the minute.

He stuffed the bills deep in his pockets, feeling a pair of eyes on him as he swiped one of the bananas from the stand he’d set up shop next to, debating if taking off in the crowd was smarter, and he could do it too, but something told him he’d done well enough tonight so far, and he deserved a bit of a break.