R/Zootopia Anthology Volume I: Gritty Zootopia

Through the Telescope, from atop Ivory Towers . . .

"You wound me. Is this really over that little spat with your associate?"

"Jamie woke up from a nap to find two of your parasitic brood drinking blood out of his neck."

"Yes, I know that," Vladimir replied. "I also know that in whatever stupor state Jamie was in, he swatted both of them like flies, killing both of them. That was yesterday. That leaves us in quite the predicament, Hector. You have yet to make amends with me."

Hector's temper reached a dangerously unsafe threshold. Be it the alcohol or his anger or both, he was feeling nothing but weightless fire in his muscles. "Make AMENDS?! With you!? You should be the one ponying up to me, you ungrateful little shit! What kind of mammal still drinks blood!? And then demands money!?"

"Pray tell, why should I be paying you?" the bat retorted, his own temper still evenly held.

"Because with one hoof, I can turn you into a bloody smear on your desk," Hector hissed. "And I think I've had enough of your little 'spies' flying around my operations. I'm not afraid of a glorified flying mouse with a taste for blood."

Vladimir inhaled deeply, then exhaled, holding Hector's stare. "That's a shame. You should be."

Hector replied. He thought he said, 'And why's that?' But what came out of his mouth was, "Ann whyz zath?" Hector lifted his hooves off the desk in surprise, and in equal surprise, found his balance slipping. He nearly fell backwards on his rear.

"Have you ever heard of the Dunning-Kruger effect, Hector?" Vladimir calmly asked him.

"Whaa – wha havv ... " was what Hector managed in response. The bull realized he couldn't move his hooves or his mouth. The vampire bat continued.

"Two researchers, the namesakes of the aforementioned bias, coined the term while at Cornell in their research on overconfident idiots. The idea blossomed after reading about a weasel, McArthur Wheeler, who robbed two banks after rubbing lemon juice on his face. Do you know why Wheeler did so?"

Hector didn't reply; he was trying to focus on not falling to the floor.

"Of course you don't. I'll tell you why. Wheeler believed that because lemon juice can be used as invisible ink, the lemon juice would mask his face on surveillance tapes. He thought it was a foolproof plan. Now, I know you're not a smart bull, evident of your position now, but I'm sure you can put two and two together."

Hector fell to the floor and stared at the ceiling. His mind was still operating. How? He hadn't taken the obviously poisoned drink. So where was this coming from?

Why couldn't he move?

"My point being, moronic mammals are unaware that they are moronic because they are so damn moronic to begin with, and are unable to do anything about it. You, my dear Hector, fully embody the Dunning-Kruger effect because you are completely incapable of realizing why you are the only two-bit criminal to come charging in here. Thinking that you of all mammals in this city, of all the powerful crime syndicates and bosses, has any weight or power to push me around."

Hector noticed the ceiling was alive, moving and twitching like muscle. But he also knew that was ridiculous. The ceiling wasn't alive. He was staring at a colony of a few hundred bats. All were licking their lips and staring right back at him.

"Information, Hector, is why no one has done to me what you've threatened. Cross me and I'll sell you out to every mammal that wants your head on a platter. Mammals continually underestimate the value of facts and rumors. For instance, I know a few powerful mammals that are not so happy with that secret little drug lab you're running out in Happytown. So I sold them the whereabouts of your gang's little hideout. Considering the odds, I doubt your amigos will survive the onslaught."