"So I went to this fast food place," Zuma stated, "and they had two openings to thwow the twash into; one for gawbage, and the othew fow recycling,"

Hours earlier, a massive tragedy had occurred. Rubble's agonizing scream be heard all across The Lookout, and it became known just what happened as everyone picked up their heads in surprise.

They were out of pup treats.

Now Zuma, Rocky, and Marshall were on the most important mission of all, going to the store. The three dogs were casually walking by themselves down the sidewalk, it was nice to get away from the tower every once in a while. They could only take Chase's attitudes for so long, and Marshall himself needed a breather from all the chaos that had been going on.

"That's great!" Rocky chirped, hopping a little, "it's so nice to know that other places practice going green,"

"...but both went to the same twash bin," the Lab finished, "it litewally didn't mattew,"

Marshall could be heard barely holding in a laugh.

Rocky snapped his head to his partner, eyes widened in shock, "what? Why would anyone do that?"

"I don't know, customew appeal?" shrugged the brown Lab,

"A lot of places and companies like to make it look like they support or do something just for customer appreciation," Marshall explained, "it's funny. You think they care, and they say they care, but they don't."

The mixed-breed stared with a bewildered expression like his entire life's purpose had been shattered in four seconds. It was almost humorous how Rocky was near obsessed with what he called the "green movement," happily separating trash for recycling and making use of discarded items. Everyone knew he was pure-hearted for thinking such, but one dog in green wasn't exactly going to change the world.

"Wocky, you're about to-"

The mix suddenly slammed into a stop sign, as he was too distracted from Zuma's statement to watch the path before him. He stumbled backward from the impact, wobbling for a second before hitting the pavement. Marshall couldn't hold in his laughter anymore as he let out a massive wheeze, followed by an assault of giggles and laughing, "you're turning into me!" Zuma rolled his eyes and smiled softly, moving to help him up, "you okay?"

"I want to find that restaurant," Rocky growled in determination,

"What?"

"I said I want to find that place and rip them a new one!" the mix snarled, accepting Zuma's paw as he was pulled back up.

"I'll save you tweats fow when you come back," the Lab giggled in amusement,

"I'm serious!"

"Didn't say you wewen't,"

Rocky grumbled to himself as they rounded a sidewalk corner, the shopping plaza was just a little ways away. As dogs, walks were always good for the soul, and some much-needed exercise was all Zuma needed to call it a day. At most, he was just amused at Rocky's blind confidence. It was entertaining to see his close friend get worked up over little things and then swear to change the world. Rocky himself didn't feel the same way. As far as he knew, he had a heart as large as a Great Dane, and he could conquer anything if he really tried.

"One day, Zuma," Rocky sighed, "one day you'll see how much I can really do,"

"Don't let Chase hear you say that," pointed the Dalmation, "he'll give you one of his looks,"

The Lab smiled warmly, "well twy to take it easy befowe that day happens. Now let's get these tweats befowe Wubble wips down the entiwe Lookout."

"You ever want to get that speech impediment taken care of?" Rocky offered,

The Lab instantly turned his head away with a stubborn look, "no."

Now it was Rocky's turn to laugh, it was always fun to poke Zuma for the one thing he hated. He seemed to be one dog spared from an immediate pillow to the face whenever they mentioned Zuma's impediment. Rocky didn't question why he got special treatment like that, but he wouldn't complain anytime soon. They continued bickering as they walked, ranting about small topics that were utterly meaningless in the greater scope of things. They soon rounded another corner, and both dogs stopped in their tracks at the sight before them.

"Huh?" Rocky recoiled, "what are they doing?"

Down the street up ahead, multiple roadblocks had been set up, completely barricading off the main part of a town. Dark vehicles were parked behind it, seemingly acting as another wall to ensure nothing crossed the line. Marshall halted in his steps, almost shrinking down in size as he moved backward. Rocky took a step back when he recognized two dogs watching over the structure, standing at the sidelines were armored dogs identical to the ones scarred into the mixed breed's head.

"No," the mix stumbled back, starting to run with fear in his eyes,

"Wocky, wait," Zuma tried to say, but his friend had already fled several feet away,

"I'll find him," Marshall turned, following Rocky,

Narrowing his eyes, the Lab slowly approached the border. The armored dog had already noticed him a long time ago and was not taking his eyes away as Zuma cautiously walked up.

"Leave, Labrador!" the guard called out to him, "this section of town is closed!"

"Closed?" Zuma repeated, confusion in his eyes, "how can it be closed like that?"

"Because we say so!" barked the large dog, "now leave before you're detained!"

Befuddled as he was, the Lab decided he liked his life and quickly turned away, leaving the scene. He eventually found Rocky hiding under a park bench a few seconds later, shaking like a leaf. Marshall was actually sitting on the bench above him, looking deep in thought as he waited for the Lab to return. Concern washed over Zuma as he tried to speak a few words to his recycle friend, but with no response. Rocky was barely recovering from his own interactions with the ACG, and needed to be escorted home. Zuma would ensure Rocky would see safety, but not before turning to Marshall, "tell Chase and Ryder," The Dalmation nodded and spoke into his pup tag.

"Chase?" he asked, contacting his close friend first,

"What is it?" came a rather tired-sounding voice,

"Come to the city park as fast as you can!" Marshall said fearfully, "seriously, you need to hurry! It's those dogs again!"

He ended the call and quickly contacted Ryder.

-.-

It was moments like this that reminded Chase he hadn't slept in a seriously long time. After talking with an awfully unhelpful dog at the cafe, all he wanted to do was collapse on his bed and dream of pup treats. But he couldn't sleep now, now he was running down the sidewalk through the town, his bed miles away. Chase didn't want to admit there were moments when he hated being in charge of everything. It was one thing for the ACG soldiers to impede on their missions, but it was a whole other thing for them to hurt his friends, and it was an entirely another ballpark for them to interfere with the city. He was growing sick of these dogs, he didn't know where they came from or what they wanted, all they were doing now was harm.

It didn't take long for him to find the roadblocks. It wasn't even the one Zuma had walked up to, the border had already cut through the city and divided out a large portion of the shopping districts. Taking careful steps, he observed the gates that had been built and spotted people on the other side trying to cross through it. Every time, an armored dog either talked them away or maced the person right in the eyes. Chase winced as a man, blinded from the spray, was helplessly dragged off to an undisclosed location.

Spotting two dogs guarding the gates, Chase took a deep breath and wandered closer.

"Hey!" the guard spotted the Shepherd through his goggles, "back off!"

"What's going on?" Chase asked, "where did they take that man?"

"I said back off, puppy!" the armored animal retorted,

"Hey, I'm the police division here," the Shepherd argued, "I have the right to know!"

"You? Police?" the tactical dog tilted his head, "you're insane,"

"No, I'm-"

"Hey, Gavyn!" the dog suddenly turned, calling to someone a few feet away, "check out this puppy, he says he's a police officer!"

Chase flattened his ears in mild embarrassment, letting his head lower a little as a second, shorter dog ran up the gate, "no way, seriously?" they bellowed, "that little thing?"

"I'm with the Paw Patrol," he tried to explain, his own tail started to dart under him,

"Ooh, I'm so scared," chuckled the ACG dog, "the Paw Patrol, essentially a bunch of orphaned puppies playing dress-up,"

Chase nearly growled, "I'm not here to be made fun of, I want to know why you're closing down the city."

The two guards shared a brief laugh before turning back to the puppy, "look kid, even if you are a real police officer, we can't fly that info to just anyone. You registered in CAP?"

"The what?" the police dog tilted his head,

"The Civilian Assistance Program," the guard explained, "your friends and neighbors apply to assist us in our operations in exchange for money or protection. If you want to know anything, you need to be cleared to help us first."

Chase picked his ears up, thinking over the new information, "how do I apply?"

"Ha, well first of all," the shorter guard chuckled, "I think you need to have hit puberty first, so-" they both laughed again,

"I've... hit puberty," Chase trailed off, lowering his head once again,

"Look," a guard laughed off, "go find the tent in front of City Hall. You can get interviewed there, but don't hold your breath,"

Narrowing his eyes at the bullies, Chase sharply turned and ran off, both guards still laughing behind him. His teeth clenched as he tried to simmer down the rage that boiled within him. No one took him seriously, he was a fully-fledged member of law enforcement and all anyone ever did was laugh at him. Sure, he was tiny compared to the ACG soldiers, but he had the right to be recognized for what he was. It was no matter, he had a real lead to use now. All he had to do was pass a simple interview, and all true intentions would hopefully be revealed.

"Chase?" Ryder's voice came on through his tag,

"Doing some fieldwork, sir," he reported, "I have a lead on the ACG,"

"Wait, really?"

"They have a tent at City Hall where I can apply for CAP," Chase explained, "I should be able to-"

"Chase, I'm going to stop you right there. Whatever you're planning on doing, stop it."

The police dog hit the brakes, coming to a stop with a surprised expression, "what, why?"

"I don't want you getting in the middle of the ACG," Ryder explained sternly, "those dogs are military extremists, I'm not going to have you get roped in,"

"But sir, I really have something here!" Chase protested, "I have the right to know what's going on,"

"It's not happening, Chase. Get back here, and that's an order," Ryder finished, slightly raising his voice at the end,

Anger and confusion rose within the Shepherd, why was everything being torn from him? It wasn't fair, right when he had something, Ryder stepped in and slapped it out of his paws. What was Ryder getting so worked up about anyway? Chase was a police officer, and officers knew how to handle themselves. His anger quickly turned to determination, and his mind began churning an idea.

"Yes sir," he replied, "I'll head back,"

"Alright then,"

Once Ryder went offline, Chase grinned to himself. He'd listen to him, for now. He had his own plans, his own tasks to complete. All he needed now was for his friends to stay out of the way and get clear. Regardless of what Ryder said, he was going to City Hall, and he was going to get answers on the ACG, no matter how far into the lion's den he'd have to go.