"Waldz, we're going to make good money off this lot!" a brawny man chortled. Chase, Skye, Zuma, and Liberty had been dog-napped by a burly man and a cat. The quartet of pups chained to the backseats of the dog-nappers' van. The man had sliced off their collars and disposed of the collars; he threatened the pups if they wouldn't allow him to do so. The cat slinked over to them. "I'm Waldo, that's Galvin," the feline recited. "You'll be fed once a day, walked every five, and if you try anything… let's just say you'll regret it." Waldo grinned ominously as he sheathed his claws. "You're going to claw us?" Zuma nervously asked. "Maybe…" the feline menaced. "Shut the fluff up, cat! We know—Achoo! —Pup-fu!" Chase shouted. "Liberty doesn't," Zuma whispered. "Well, three of the four of us do," Chase uttered in a reply to the Labrador. "That's cute how you think swinging your paws around can rout me and Galvin," Waldo responded. Galvin pulled into the driveway of a rundown house. The paint had been faded and tattered from the sheer time it had not been redone; the rain gutters had fallen in front of the entrance; the garage door was badly damaged, beaten, and had a bent opening at the bottom. "You live in this hunk of junk?" Liberty retorted. Waldo swiped his claw directly in front her muzzle. "Kay! I take it back! I take it back!" she exclaimed. Galvin grabbed the chains the pups were attached to, and walked them into the garage. "This is where we'll we sleeping?" Skye said. "Yeah, deal with it, ya pampered fluffhead," snapped Galvin. "Hey, don't call her that!" shouted Chase. Skye blushed a bit. Zuma smirked. The guy rolled his eyes. "Assuming you lot have already eaten, you'll be fed tomorrow," Galvin asserted. He and Waldo exited the garage. Seconds later, a chest was being pushed in front of the gap at the bottom of the garage. "Now, ya can't escape!" bellowed Waldo. A few hours later, nightfall had arrived. The garage was, dark, cold, and drafty. Every pup shivered, expect Liberty. "How are you not shivering, Liberty?" asked Skye. "Cold nights are something street dogs are used to," Liberty replied. "Honestly, it's nice to be inside here." Zuma dragged over a tattered newspaper. He ripped it into four pieces. "We'll these use these as blankets," he said. Each pup grabbed a piece, and covered these themselves.
Meanwhile, Ryder, Marshall, Rocky, and Rubble were outside the Adventure City Lookout Tower, after an unsuccessful search. "Where do you think Chase is?" Rubble asked Ryder. "And Skye?" Marshall followed. "And Zuma and Liberty?" Rocky finished. "I don't know…?" Ryder sighed. "They're not responding to their Pup-Tags and I can't track them, for some reason." The pups replied will sorrow frowns. "We'll try to search for them and Chase's parents tomorrow," Ryder said.
Later that night, Marshall tossed and turned. "I'm really worried about what happened to the others," Marshall said. "Me too," Rocky replied, followed by a yawn. "Like what if they got run over by a car or—" Marshall continued, to be interrupted by Rubble. "Guys, keep down!" the bulldog ordered. "I'm trying to sleep!" "I'm sure they'll be fine; they'll very smart dogs" Rocky told Marshall, hoping what he said would ease his spotted friend. "I guess…" Marshall sighed. Rocky's words eased him, but didn't make him feel entirely better. "Goodnight, bud," Rocky concluded. "Night," Marshall responded.
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