Inside the interrogation room, Sheriff Nelson faced James Rogers...
...Lucy Killian...
...Kayla Jackson...
...Jack Russell...
...Lucy Clarke...
...and Karen Johnson.
"So...who would like to start?"
[James Rogers]
"I was at home..."
[Lucy Killian]
"...when our daughter came to us."
[Kayla Jackson]
"Garrett Johnson and his posse attacked us."
[Jack Russell]
"I wanted to do something about it, but..."
[Lucy Clarke]
"...the talking dog...saved our lives."
. . .
"Who knew?"
[Karen Johnson]
"Well, definitely not me, because I just arrived into town."
. . .
"I'm SO not getting on Santa's Nice List now."
Eventually, the six of them were released and met with Marshall and Cassie.
"What did they say?" Marshall approached with Cassie by his side.
"Well, since the presence of a talking dog is a rarity of an excuse in our town," Lucy Killian snarked, "the Sheriff let us off with an warning...and the chance for a daughter and her friends to meet one of the most famous PAW Patrol members during her birthday at a Thanksgiving festival."
"Really? When?"
"As if the "Thanksgiving festival" wasn't too much of a dead giveaway..." Lucy Clarke muttered to herself.
"Well, actually..." Karen rubbed her chin, "He has a point. Is the festival before or after Thanksgiving? Because...technically, November is Thanksgiving all month long, just like October is Halloween all month long and December is Christmas all month long. Or...is it exactly on the day of Thanksgiving?"
Before Lucy Clarke could blow her stack, James Rogers stepped in and took care of that, "It should be exactly the day of Thanksgiving, Miss Johnson, which gives us about two weeks and a half to prepare."
"You nervous, kid?"
"Heck, no!" Marshall shook his head before stopping himself and giving it a second thought, "I mean, a little bit, but it's nothing I can't handle!"
"I think you'll do fine, Marshall," Cassie smiled as she lifted Marshall up and carried him in her arms.
"Of course," Lucy Clarke scoffed in frustration, "If my little sister has faith in the talking dog, why should I?"
"Lucy, you're making this a bigger deal than it already is," Jack smiled in amusement.
"How are you okay with this? It's a talking dog! Who just happens to be a member of a cult of talking dogs!"
"Hey, we're not a cult!" Marshall was offended, "The PAW Patrol helps people!"
"And that's another thing," Lucy scoffed again in frustration, "The...PAW Patrol? It sounds exactly like a cult!"
"It just sounds like a really cheesy, far-fetched cartoon for preschoolers," Kayla chuckled as Karen spared weirded-out glances between her and Marshall.
"Although I'm inclined to believe her, I just want to make sure if everyone is okay with the talking dog now?"
"For the most part," James nodded in confirmation.
"We need to get you ready for the festival, Marshall," Cassie continued to hug the Dalmatian, who began to fret.
"But I'm nervous! Everybody apparently knows me, but I don't know them! What if I mess up or–?"
"Kid, relax," Kayla chuckled, "It's just a birthday party wrapped in a festival. This shouldn't be any different from any other big event you were involved in."
"But my clumsiness ruins everything for everyone, Kayla!" Marshall whimpered, "And the last big event I was involved in, I burned the kitchen and my friends yelled at me for it! And I was nearly burned alive in a burning building..."
The previously joyful mood was substantially dampened as Marshall lowered his head in shame and everybody exchanged sympathetic expressions with each other. The rest of Nelson's police force were probably just as dumbfounded by the presence of a talking dog, but they knew better to voice their thoughts at a time like this. Even Lucy (Clarke), the most hesitant to accept said talking dog, could not help how sorry she felt for him.
"Marshall, was it?"
Marshall looked up at her, but continued to say nothing.
"Take it easy on yourself. You're not the only one who's clumsy around here. Every one of us...well, almost every one of us...have made some bad mistakes. In some cases, really bad."
Kayla somehow knew that most of Lucy's words spoken were directed towards herself, slightly reopening a wound from the past.
"But..." Lucy continued regardless, "At the end of the day, every one of us had a tendency to turn those mistakes into lessons. And every one of us have taken those lessons to heart and learned to...forgive ourselves and not let guilt consume for the rest of our lives. Who knows? Maybe the PAW Patrol will forgive you one day. It just takes time."
Even if the mood was considerably softened, Marshall saw it as an improvement and gestured Kayla to set him down.
"Thanks, Miss Lucy," Marshall smiled warmly, causing Lucy to scoff and wave him off.
"Yeah, yeah. Think nothing of it. Like ever. I have a reputation to keep."
"Never one for sentiment, were you, Miss Lucy?" Lucy Killian chuckled as she shook her head.
"Sentiment is for dreamers, Miss Natalie," Sheriff Nelson shot back, prompting Marshall to shoot a confused look at them both.
"Wait, who's Miss Natalie?"
"I am," Lucy Killian gestured to herself, "I think I never got to formally introduce myself. I'm Natalie Lucy Killian."
"What?!" Kayla gasped as Marshall's paw shook Natalie's hand, "Your name actually is Natalie? You said that birth certificate was fake!"
"That birth certificate was technically fake," Natalie rolled her eyes as she explained, "I had dozens of birth certificates printed out and copied so nobody can tell which one is real when they try to steal my identity."
"And who in the world would want to steal your identity?" Jack narrowed his eyes at her.
"Really bad people, right?" Marshall tilted his head, to which Natalie nodded.
"Really, really, really bad people. Now, if you don't mind, Sheriff Nelson, I would want to go back to decorate my house with Christmas decorations before sitting around the campfire with a cup of hot chocolate."
"Honestly, after all the madness you've endured today," Sheriff Nelson sighed as he shook his head, "You all deserve it."
The group began to exit the police station before Marshall stopped in his tracks.
"Sheriff Nelson, Officer Johnson. Aren't you going to join us?"
"I'm flattered, kid," Sheriff Nelson chuckled in response, "But duty calls. I'm gonna have to stay behind and file out the police reports regarding the juvenile delinquents you "accidentally" knocked out."
"Again, I'm so sorry about that."
"Don't sweat it, kid," Sheriff Nelson shook his head, "They, along with most of their parents, have been giving me nothing but trouble for the past couple of years. I think it's high time somebody taught them a lesson, especially since my family could do without troublemakers like them."
Marshall then turned to Karen, "What about you, Officer Johnson? Are you going to join us?"
"I'll...join you guys later," Karen nodded, "I'm going to help Sheriff Nelson with those reports. You guys be careful, okay?"
"We will!" Marshall nodded as he bid the two of them goodbye and joined the rest of the group. As they drove away from the police station, Marshall could not help but reminisce on the last few days since his arrival in the town. It was not even a full month and he was starting to enjoy his time here with Kayla's family, aside from the occasional snag. Such highlights included the concept of a talking dog apparently being foreign to the townspeople and the rare barbaric bully such as Garrett and his groupies (with the exception of Miss Christina, of course).
He never brought it up at the police station or even at Kayla's house afterwards, but Marshall was actually pretty frightened when Garrett's friend pulled that gun on him. Had it not been for his gadgetry and quick thinking, he would have ended up dead for real. The problem was, his idea to draw their attention away from them ended up drawing attraction to himself, and thus it was pretty half-baked. While it did have the intended result, the Dalmatian was pretty much on Garrett's radar thanks to his connection to Kayla, her family, and her friends.
Garrett knew that he was associated with them.
Garrett would be coming after them next time.
. . .
. . .
. . .
Right?
. . .
. . .
. . .
"Marshall?"
The Dalmatian found his train of thought derailed as he looked up to find Kayla looking at him with a concerned gaze in his eyes.
"Yeah? What's up?"
"Uh, we're at the house," Kayla chuckled, "That's what's up."
"Oh, why didn't you say so?"
"I was going to, but...you seemed distracted for a moment there."
"I was just...thinking about a lot of things."
"I bet," Kayla nodded as she unbuckled his seatbelt, "Well, Mom said the hot chocolate was almost done, so she told me to come get you."
"Alright then!" Marshall leap out of his seat the moment Kayla unbuckled his belt and made a beeline for the house, causing her to chuckle and shake her head as she followed him inside. Although...
Something was undoubtedly bothering him.
But what?
What exactly?
Maybe Brad pulling that Glock in a panic did a number on him.
Maybe...
Deciding to talk to him about it later, Kayla flashed a smile as she entered the house and joined the group for a warm cup of hot chocolate.
"That's my girl..."
"That's my girl..."
"That's my girl..."
As the song played in the background and echoed throughout the grocery store, a golden-furred Dachshund traveled down the dumbwaiter to retrieve her impromptu meal. Said golden fur was sprinkled with dark brown spots on her body; long, brown fluffy ears; and a light brown muzzle, paws, and a light shade of brown around her eyes. She had brown eyebrows, brown eyes, and a big, dark brown nose.
The Dachshund snuck around the store in search of the fabled food that eluded her for far too long. Navigating the twists and turns of the malevolent maze that beckoned her to challenge it, she fearlessly flew and stalwartly soared over, under, and all around the onslaught of outrageous, over-the-top obstacles, managing to ultimately overcome them all. Sure, she stubbed many a toe and sliced off many a fur, but it was all worth it.
Climbing up to the top of the temple, the Dachshund gasped and giggled at the satisfying sight of the sweet, savory sustenance that stood proud on display before her.
The lighting arguably helped for dramatic effect.
. . .
. . .
. . .
Wait...
Dramatic effect lighting?
"Um, Liberty?"
Stiffening up before slowly but surely turning around, the Dachshund turned around to find a brown-skinned, brown-eyed yoiung woman with fluffy brown hair tied back in a bushy ponytail by a red plaid bandanna. She wore a brown leather coat above a red plaid top that exposed her midriff, denim jeans, brown slip-on shoes with knee-high socks, and huge white earrings dotted with red.
"You do realize that when it comes to you, food is on the house?" The young woman smiled, to which the Dachshund named Liberty smiled bashfully and giggled in the same manner.
"I know, I know! But it's more fun when the store closes, Carmen! I get to sneak around and play around like a secret agent!"
"And you do realize that when it comes to you sneaking around and playing around like a secret agent," Carmen smiled as she crossed her arms, "tearing up half of my store to shreds is par for the course?"
Blinking in bewilderment, Liberty then glanced around to take in her hard work well done. Half of the grocery store was indeed torn up to shreds, much of the shelves were tipped over, and glass bottles were inevitably shattered.
"Oops," Liberty smiled before huffing, "Sorry, Carmen. Do you need help cleaning up the mess?"
"No worries, Liberty," Carmen laughed as she shook her head, "It gives me an excuse to keep the store open for a couple more hours. Besides, I hired an assistant to help me keep tabs."
Carmen sidestepped around the messes to retrieve the bag of dog treats Liberty had targeted, pouring the contents into one half of a double doggy bowl while pouring genuine dog food in the other half.
"But it would be appreciative if you ask for help once in a while. Also, you need actual food."
"Thanks, Carmen," Liberty smiled before turning her attention back to the mess she made, "I just feel guilty for not helping you, though."
"Think nothing of it," Carmen replied, "The assistant should be coming soon. In the meantime, enjoy your food and catch your sleep afterwards."
"No promises!"
With that, Liberty dug in as Carmen proceeded to perform a deep clean. To her pleasant surprise, the song on the TV screen played again.
Even more so when she found out it was a repeat showing.
"That's my girl..."
"That's my girl..."
"That's my girl..."
A/N: Okay, I recently just watched The Mighty Movie a couple of hours ago, and it somehow compelled me to finish writing this chapter I procrasinated on for a long time. Perhaps bigger, bolder, and better than the first, the second PAW Patrol movie gave me enough mileage to continue onward with this story. I honestly cannot wait for the third movie to arrive!