Judy Hopps:
[driving up next to Nick pushing a stroller]
Hi! Hello? It's me again.
Nick Wilde:
Hey, it's Officer Toot-toot!
Judy Hopps:
[sarcastically]
Ha-ha-ho, no. Actually, It's Officer Hopps and I'm here to ask you some questions about a case.
Nick Wilde:
What happened, meter maid? Did someone steal a traffic cone? It wasn't me.
[annoyed, Judy rides up and pulls up in front of Nick, blaring her siren]
Nick Wilde:
Hey, Carrots, you're gonna wake the baby. I gotta get to work.
Judy Hopps:
[gets out of her car with the folder, a notepad, and a carrot pen]
This is important, sir. I think your ten dollars worth of pawpsicles can wait.
Nick Wilde:
Ha! I make 200 bucks a day, Fluff. 365 days a year since I was 12. And time is money. Hop along.
Judy Hopps:
Please, just look at the picture.
[shows a picture of Emmitt Otterton]
Judy Hopps:
You sold Mr. Otterton that pawpsicle, right? Do you know him?
Nick Wilde:
I know everybody. And I also know that somewhere there's a toy store missing its stuffed animal. So why don't you get back to your box?
Judy Hopps:
[smile drops, then becomes serious]
Fine. Then we'll have to do this the hard way.
[In a split second, there's a parking boot attached to Nick's stroller]
Nick Wilde:
Did you just boot my stroller?
Judy Hopps:
Nicholas Wilde, you are under arrest!
Nick Wilde:
[scoffs]
For what?
[in a patronizing tone]
Nick Wilde:
Hurting your feewings?
Judy Hopps:
Felony tax evasion.
[Nick's eyes widen]
Judy Hopps:
Yeeaah... 200 dollars a day, 365 days a year since you were twelve, that's two decades, so times twenty which is... one million four hundred sixty thousand- I think, I mean I am just a dumb bunny, but we are good at multiplying. Anyway, according to your tax forms, you reported, let me see here, *zero*! Unfortunately, lying on a federal form is a punishable offense. Five years jail time.
Nick Wilde:
Well it's my word against yours.
[Judy pulls out her pen and plays back Nick's confession]
Nick Wilde:
[through carrot pen]
"... 200 bucks a day, Fluff. 365 days a year since I was 12."
Judy Hopps:
Actually, it's your word against yours. And if you want this pen, you're going to help me find this poor missing otter, or the only place you'll be selling pawpsicles is the prison cafeteria.
[grins]
Judy Hopps:
It's called a hustle, sweetheart.
Finnick:
She hustled you!
[hysterical laughter erupts from within the stroller and Finnick crawls out]
Finnick:
She hustled you *good*! You a cop now, Nick! You're gonna need one of these!
[slaps his police sticker on Nick]
Finnick:
Have fun working with the fuzz!
[continues laughing hysterically as he walk away]
