AN: Been awhile since I updated this, huh? Well, this was never intended to be a series on a scheduled time like I do with the other fics. I just use this to get some small ideas of mine that are too short for stories out for laughs. BTW, I'll be starting up a Deviant Art Account under the same name "HavocHound" for future comics I'm paying for by artists. I'll also post some of my stories there, not all of them, just the popular ones.

Disclaimer: I don't own Paw Patrol

***Marshall The Immortal***

"Okay, Rocky, I just need you to lift up my pup house so I can see what's wrong with it!" shouted Marshall as Rocky used his forklift to slowly lift the house. Marshall was needed for a mission yesterday but for some reason his house wouldn't change into vehicle mode and so he, along with his friends, were going to see what was wrong.

Dragging the tool box with him, Marshall got under the fire truck as his friends watched him. "Hmm, looks like a circuit isn't working. That should be an easy fix."

Rocky was about to get up and help when his tail accidentally hit the down button. He gasped in shock and tried to warn Marshall. "Marshall! Get out of the way!"

"Huh? Wh-" Marshall didn't get a second to finish as his truck came down upon him with a single crunch.

Everyone gasped in horror and stared at the spot where their friend used to be. "Oh my god! Marshall! Marshall!" shouted Chase, followed by the others. "Rocky pull it up! Pull it up!"

Rocky quickly did so and the gang waited with halted breath as tears began to leak into their eyes; all of them assuming to see a big red splatter of their once living friend. To their shock, instead of a mess of blood, bones, and flesh, Marshall was just lying there with his eyes spinning. "Ugh, anybody catch the number on that truck?"

"B-b-but how?!" asked Skye in disbelief. "That truck would have squashed a melon! You should be dead!"

"Uhhh, I guess I'm just lucky?" asked Marshall, scratching his head. "To be honest, I thought I was dead myself."

"Half the falls you take should have killed you…" thought Rocky as he hummed to himself before walking over to Chase. "Chase, think you can get that revolver Ryder keeps around the house?"

"Uh, sure?" said the police pup who left the group for a second while Zuma and Rubble continued to prod and poke the "not dead" dalmatian. He came back a few minutes later, handing it over to Rocky. "Here you go."

"Thanks," said Rocky as he lifted it up and, with some difficulty, fired a shot at Marshall who was blown back.

"Holy Sirius!" shouted Rubble, jumping back in shock.

"OW! What the heck was that for!" shouted Marshall, rubbing the place where he got shot… which happened to be his forehead.

"Okay, either Marshall is a robot or he's immortal," said Rocky, lowering the gun. "I don't think you can die, Marshall."

"Really? I can't die? Like at all?" asked Marshall, tipping his head.

"Only one to find out…"

"How do you know how to make a pawmade guillotine with some old wood, a pulley and rope, and a butcher's knife?" asked Chase as Rocky pulled back on the rope while Marshall was struggling in his place by the stocks.

"I saw a book on medieval torture. I was bored so one thing lead to the next," replied Rocky.

"Guys, as much as I am curious about testing how far this would go, need I remind you that, for the hundredth time, I don't feel comfortable doing this!" shouted Marshall.

"Oh hush, Mr. Immortal," said Rocky as he released the rope and the giant butchers knife, acting as a blade, came down and chopped off Marshall's head.

"Woah! That went clean off!" said Zuma in awe as the head rolled. "Is he dead?"

"No," said Marshall's head despite having no neck. It made the other pups look at it with disgust. "Can you guys reattach me? It's kinda hurting me."

The Pups tried everything from burning Marshall to death (Which only made him hungry for marshmallows), drowning him (which Marshall had to spend an hour unable to move as Zuma dragged him across the ocean only to spend ten minutes releasing his bladder from all the water he swallowed) to even thrown off a cliff at 100 feet (All that did was make Marshall lose his voice from all the scream).

Yet nothing seemed to kill him.

"I guess you really are immortal, Marshall," said Skye in amazement as they went down the list they wrote. "Woah, do you think this means you'll never age."

"Well, I hope I don't," said Marshall, pulling out the knife that Rubble had stabbed inside him.

"Why's that, dude?" asked Zuma.

"Oh, you'll find out…"

***100 years later***

Despite being a hundred and eight, Marshall didn't look a single day over 20. He stopped aging at some point a long time ago and was a young as could be. He entered the graveyard and made his way to five graves that held the names of his long departed friends.

"Hey guys. It's been a hundred years since we found out I cannot die. Kinda miss you guys, but I've learned to cope with it," said Marshall as he walked over to the first grave. "Remember when I said I was glad I was going out live you guys? Well, this is because why. Consider this payback for all those painful tests."

He then lifted his hind leg and went to work on each grave, thankful that he had that super big soda on the way that was ready to burst out.

***Spy Beats Sniper***

Tracker had picked Sniper for his class in the game of TF2 this week. So far he had two head shots on the opposing team and was looking for his third one, but the one enemy he wanted to eliminate in this round.

Skye.

She had obliterated him as a Spy in the last round and was looking forward to putting a bullet in her head ten times over.

But this time! I'm gonna pwned her so good… he thought with a smile.

"Hey, Twacker, have you seen-" BANG! "Dude, what the heck?"

"Sorry, Zuma. Need to make sure you weren't a Spy," replied Tracker as he reloaded. "What's up."

"Have you seen Chase? He picked Solider and I want us to make a wun for the intelligence," replied Zuma as he tipped his Scout hat while lifting the baseball bat. "He's going to cause a distraction while I wun like hell."

"Check near the entrance," said Tracker as he went back to his spot to overwatch the bridge. He smirked upon seeing Marshall, as a Medic, charging up Rubble with his medi-can while the bulldog took out Rocky's sentry guns with his minigun.

A quick headshot to Marshall's skull ended that and allowed Rubble to become mincemeat after Rocky's rockets had their way with him.

"Hey, Tracker? I forgot one thing," said Zuma, coming back in.

"What?" asked Tracker, keeping his eye on his scope.

"Everest wants to know if you want to do Payload after this?"

"Sure, whatever. Now go," replied Tracker before a thought occurred to him. Wait a minute. When could Zuma use his R's? Unless!

It was too late as a knife entered Tracker's back and ended his character's life. "Zuma" smiled before turning back into Skye who whistled as she flip the knife around. She turned around the corner and towards Zuma's dead body as well before bowing and turning invisible.