The Fire Triangle, A Zootopia Fanfiction -- Part One

The Fire Triangle, A Zootopia Fanfiction -- Part One: Fuel - 15

Disclaimer: Zootopia stories, characters, settings, and properties belong to the Walt Disney Co. This story is written under Fair Use Copyright laws.

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The Fire Triangle-A Zootopia Fanfiction

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Part One:

Fuel

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Chapter 3 - Day of Carrots and Blueberries
(Continued...Pt. 7)

"Eeeyyeahh, gotcha bay-bay!"

Conor Lewis was whooping and throwing a fist in the air as he headed away from the sign-up table. He hadn't merely lucked out, he'd made out-like a bandit! Not two minutes before his arrival, another one of the talent show participants had cancelled, leaving open a precious Saturday evening space.

It could not have been more perfect if it had been a boon from heaven. Not only had the young fox sewn up a prime-time slot, but if he and Finnick hadn't sold all the t-shirts by then, it was never going to happen.

It was sheer luck too that Conor had brought along not only his electric six, (which he'd almost opted to leave behind,) but also his pedalboard and all his karaoke disks; the choice of tunes to play was wide open.

Strolling along the midway in the direction of Finnick's van, the young silver fox began whistling the melody from one of his favorite guitar piece; it seemed to fit the moment perfectly.

"When I feel I'm over-reacting, and I'm trying too hard,
If I feel I might need to...get out in the country...my friend."

Conor had always loved the song, 'Racing in A', but only now was he learning to truly appreciate it. This was his first time out in the country, (unless you counted Granite Point, and he didn't count that for fill dirt,) and it was just like the lyrics said; here was a place to drop your troubles, unwind, and clean out your head. Ohhhh, but the Burrows was so different from everywhere else he'd been, easygoing and laid-back, with none of the hard, electric energy he knew from back in Zootopia, and especially Zoo York City.

Hmmm maybe he should perform Racing in A at the show tomorrow night. No, no 'maybe' about it, that was the song, done and done. He wondered for minute if he could talk Finnick into staying over through Sunday. If the t-shirt sales went as expected, that might be doable.

He stopped and felt his ears stand up at a sound wafting through the air.

Well, speak of the devil-horns; someone, somewhere was getting seriously down on a bass guitar, and it was a bassline the young silver fox recognized, "Fursonal Cheeses' by Depeche Mole.

Conor stopped and cocked his head. Whoever was playing that bass, they were kicking it...really kicking it. Only where was the music coming from? Wait a sec, that old red barn over there? Yeah that was the place.

For a second the young fox hesitated. He had promised Finnick he'd be right back, but...ahhh, how long could a quick look-see take? Yeah, one quick look and then back to the van.

No sense trying the front door; he could see that one was a non-starter from fifty yards away, held shut a chain and padlock worthy of a city gate. No worries, there had to be some other way inside; that bass wasn't jamming on itself.