Comeuppance
“You beat my husband.”
Taz LeBuck looked up from his magazine to stare at the oryx blocking his beach sun. “Pardon, Little Doe?”
Pronk folded his arms and kept his glare. “My husband, Bucky. You beat him. A lot.”
Taz made a show of thinking. “Hmm… scrawny kudu, stupid, disrespectful? Feh. You can have the loser back”
Pronk’s fists clenched. “He’s not a loser, you rutter! He’s a journalist, and an amateur baker, and twice a week we’d go to Mystic Spring, and—”
Taz threw his magazine down and stood, the elk towering over Pronk, shoving him back. “He was a dumbass doe with a mouth on him! Who the hell cares if I decided to teach that scat some respect!?”
“Unsurprisingly, my partner and I do.”
Pronk wished he had a camera to capture the elk’s face at the sight of Officers Hopps and Wilde right behind him.