Author Note: I don't own PAW Patrol; it belongs to Keith Chapman. I only own my OC, Saul.
Also, please don't dismantle someone's car without their permission.

Ah, a typical Summertime day in the lovely town of Adventure Bay. Clear skies, moderate humidity, calm (though intermittent) breeze. All in all, perfect weather...for baseball! Which is good, because that's exactly what's happening!

Once again, Mayors Goodway and Humdinger had gotten into a stupid argument. This time it ended with Humdinger challenging the PAW Patrol pups to a baseball game. The stands for the baseball diamond were mostly filled, and I was amongst those present.

The game began, and the pups took an early lead. However, partway through the third inning, things started to get weird. Now, I don't know that much about sports. I know that there's various methods of pitching the ball, some of which can result in any manner of crazy movements, especially at the hands of a professional player. But even so, it shouldn't be able to get this crazy.

I may not know sports, but I do know physics. I don't care how professional of a thrower you are, you can't make a ball do a vertical loop. Or make a ball fly forward, turn a 90° angle, fly straight up, turn a second 90° angle, and fly forward again. Not without someone interfering with the ball's flight. Something is up. (The fact that the ball only started acting strange after Mayor Humdinger was holding it was a major tip. As was the fact that the ball's newfound, erratic flight paths were directly benefiting the Kittys.)

Excusing myself on the grounds of needing to use the restroom, I exited the stands, and began creeping around. Time to see if Mayor Humdinger knew anything about the ball acting up. Creeping up and from behind, I spotted Mayor Humdinger crouched behind the far set of stands (where no one was sitting). Getting a little closer, I heard him laughing to himself, and congratulating himself, saying that using a remote-controlled baseball to win the game was an act of genius. So that's what's going on. I clenched my fists.

"Of all the dirty, cheating...Okay, if that's how you want to play, let's play," I muttered. I walked back, going as quietly as when I came in, already working out my retaliation. One phone call and fourteen minutes later, a nondescript gray van showed up in the parking lot. I will say this about my friends: they are fast. Fast to arrive, fast to get the job done, fast to leave.

=Later=

I entered the restroom, and waited a few minutes, so that I could walk out and see the damage. The best lies have bits and pieces of the truth mixed in, after all. I stopped at the announcer's booth with a very important announcement.

"Attention! Your attention, please! Will the owner of the purple limo, license plate "NMBR1MR" and "I Heart Foggy Bottom" bumper sticker, please report to your vehicle."

A shout of "My limo!" rang out. I suppressed a grin as best I could. All was going perfectly so far. I headed over to the parking lot to watch the show, and move things along. Mayor Humdinger was inspecting the remains of a car. I will also say this about my friends: they can be quite thorough given the proper incentive.

"What happened to my limo?!" shouted Mayor Humdinger. I walked up to him, trying to look concerned and confused.

"Oh, man. Someone really did a number on it. They made off with the tires and the engine. And the doors. And the steering wheel. And the catalytic converter. Oh! And I found this nearby." With this last remark, I passed a small box to Mayor Humdinger.

"What is it?" he asked, turning the box over in his hands.

"I think it's the airbag," I said, poking at the box. Suddenly, a large, rapidly-expanding bag exploded out from the box, knocking Mayor Humdinger right off his feet.

Looking between the supine mayor and the now-activated airbag, I said, "Yeah, that's an airbag...Medic!" As EMT Marshall was checking on the downed mayor, no one noticed me picking up and pocketing a remote control said mayor dropped. After one more trip to the restroom, I felt confident that the baseball game would continue fairly. After all, most electronic devices don't work too well (or at all) after being flushed down the toilet.