The next day was an uneventful one. Mayor Humdinger was out getting himself immersed in whatever villainous shenanigans he was pulling next, meanwhile the PAW Patrol was left to their own thoughts, milling about in the chamber.

"We're fine, we're fine, everything is fine." Marshall turned in circles.

The Labrador beside him flashed an odd look. "Dude, take a breath."

"I am breathing, Zuma! At least, I think I am."

Chase had to get between them, his fur increasingly unkempt. "Everyone calm down before we kill each other! We'll never get out of this otherwise!"

Marshall turned to face him, dark circles having appeared under his eyes. "I'm trying to be, okay? But this... how long have we even been in here?!"

"Two days is my best guess, or maybe three?" Chase raised an eyebrow. "Hard to tell, there's no clocks in here. Look, Marshall, why don't you go lay down and get some rest?"

"That's the thing: I've been trying!" The Dalmatian whimpered, his voice shaking. "I can't sleep, Chase! I've been trying like hell but no matter how long I close my eyes it doesn't work!"

A grey mix walked over, missing his usual uniform and hat. "I can't sleep either, actually." Rocky said, visible strain on his face. "I don't know what's wrong with me, I'm completely exhausted but I can't seem to drift off."

"I haven't slept either," Chase sat back, putting his paws to his head. "This is... seriously annoying." He emitted a loud groan, yelling over his shoulder. "Skye! Why aren't we out of here yet!"

"Chase, I've scanned every damn tile in the room!" Skye snapped back, her small body restless and worn. "They all look the same! Or... I think they're the same?" She collapsed to the floor, holding her head in aggravation. "Ugh! God, I can't focus with all of you talking!"

"Have you slept at all?" Zuma asked.

"What you think?!" Came her irate snarl. "If none of you have then what makes you think I can?"

"Please for the love of God, stop yelling." Chase growled. "You guys are giving me a headache."

Sharpening his posture, Marshall sped directly up to the shepherd, jabbing his paw into his friend's chest. "You're not the only one in pain, you know! Not everything is about you!"

Chase flinched, growling with a cold stare. "Get your paw off me."

"All you talk about is yourself!" Said the firefighter, spitting his accusations. "Why can't it be one of us for once? My head is spinning and I can barely see straight!" The two dogs snarled their teeth, seconds from lashing into each other's throats.

Rocky had to bark over them both. "Can both of you shut up please?! You're making it unbearable in here!"

While the three bit at one another, Skye was nervously scampering all over the floor, trying to focus her fogging vision on any possible thing she could've missed. "I don't get it, I don't get it, I don't get it!" She wailed, almost stumbling over herself. A sickening dizziness was making her sway, every inch of her body seemed to flare with muscle-tearing pain. "Did I already... did I?" She blinked, starting to hyperventilate. Looking up fearfully, her frail body tensed up. "Wait, do the ceiling tiles count? Does the ceiling count!?" Her voice began shaking, alarm quivering through the cockapoo. "Does the ceiling count?!" She called over to her stationary friend. "Rubble does the ceiling count?!"

The bulldog was not amused. "Can you quiet please?! I'm trying to sleep over here!"

"You've been trying to sleep for the past hour!"

"And I'll never get there if you don't shut your trap!" Rubble rolled over, resuming his battle drift.

Skye grimaced, writing off the construction pup as worthless. "Chase does the ceiling count!?"

"It's not fault everyone is sick!" Chase was arguing with his friends. "I don't know what's going on, maybe there's some pathogen in the air or something!"

"Why do you have to be so completely useless when it matters!?" Marshall said, stumbling over himself. "You're supposed to be our leader, Chase! But look at you, you can barely keep your ears up!"

"So what?! I'm exhausted!"

"We're all exhausted!"

"Chase does the ceiling count!?" Skye shouted over them all.

"All of you!" Chase screamed, baring his teeth. "Shut. The Fuck. Up!"

Marshall jabbed him in the chest. "You have no right to say that to us!"

They yelled at one another until their voices ached, their energy sapped long ago with little spared for verbal lashings. After an hour they all parted ways, retreating to respective edges of the room in an attempt to recover their sanity. Rubble continued tossing and turning, a helpless endeavor in his pursuits of sleep. Zuma and Rocky muttered to one another, both dogs trying to calm the other one down. Chase sat staring into the wall like he was trying to burn a hole through it, refusing to talk to anyone with little sign of responsiveness, save for an occasional twitch of his tail. Marshall was visibly writhing in his corner, swaying haphazardly and shaking in place. The only dog still up and about was Skye, running in circles with her neck craned backward, staring up at the ceiling and straining to count its pieces.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Mayor Humdinger returned the next day, humming to himself as he slid down the metal ladder into the hallway. "I'm telling you, kitties. You have not lived until you're eating instant rice out of a motel ice bucket... with a fork." He laughed to his mute animals, wiping a tear from his face. "Alright, they should be out of there by now. Let's get in there and clean up the room." He walked over to the gas chamber, expecting to peer through the window and be met with an empty room. Surely by then, the PAW Patrol would be back by the next day, supercharged by the power of friendship or something, ready to tear down whatever he built. He was instead met with a shocking surprise, his eyes widening as he looked through the glass.

"Wait... you're still in there!?" He said in disbelief. "How... how are you...?"

Skye ran to one of the microphone's screaming into it. "Does the ceiling count!?"

Her voice traveled through the wires and screeched out through the speakers, startling the mayor. "Aaaaahh! Jeez-" Humdinger jumped, plugging his ears. "Didn't anyone ever tell you not to scream into the mic?! Sheesh, you never see a cat making sounds like that." Rubbing away the ringing in his ears, he curiously looked back through the window. "You guys really can't get out?"

"We're trying!" Chase barked. "But everyone's getting sick and some of us are less useful than others!"

Leering up from where he shook, Marshall leered over at the shepherd. "Call me useless one more time and I'll rip your ears off."

"Sick?" Humdinger said, a pang of worry coming over him. "What... what are you sick with?"

"No one knows!" Snapped the police dog. "Nobody knows anything! Now leave us alone!"

The mayor blinked, arms gently falling at his sides as he processed the situation. The PAW Patrol, sick? That never happened before, maybe one of them caught a cold every now and then. but for all six members to be incapacitated was unreal. "Do you..." He tried to say. "Need anything? I could probably..." he looked off to the side. "Go get you some... meds or something. What hurts?"

"Everything!" Chase barked.

Stepping away, Humdinger removed his hat and held it close, his heart stinging with concern. "This isn't ideal, what happened to them?" He asked one of the cats, who merely returned with a stare. "I... I don't know what to do, what am I supposed to tell Ryder?" It was a solid question that he had never considered: No doubt Ryder was combing the lands, searching for his lost dogs. They were always back by the day, always back without fail.

"Maybe if I pump the AC in there again," Humdinger thought aloud. "Give them some air, that should help." He made haste back to the controls on the side of the room, remembering the gas pumps easily. The console had defeated him once, but greater things were at stake now and he wasn't willing to give up so easily. Appearing at the controls, Humdinger reached for the air conditioning when he spotted something.

The broken handle.

It was a memory he pushed away searching for self-esteem, how he had been thrown across the room in full view of his rivals. The handle had snapped, locked open with no way to shut whatever it was pumping in the room. Humdinger's hand fell from where he reached, his eyes fixating on the broken device. "Wait... what is that for?" There were no clear labels he could see, at least, not under the layer of grime and rust. His cats watched as he scratched away the dirty coating, carving off the dirt until a carved word became visible.

"Solimane gas?" He read the word aloud, racking his brain for any other time he'd heard the word. "Uh... hmm." Blinking with uncertainty, he gave the gas chamber a worried gaze. "I've never heard of that stuff before, I'll have to look up on my phone... tomorrow, when I can use that cafe's internet." Said his muttered response. "Has that stuff been blowing in there this entire time?"

He hadn't a clue what solimane was, nor its effects on those that inhaled it, but it was undoubtedly getting pumped into the PAW Patrol's prison room at unstoppable amounts. "Hey pups?" Humdinger worriedly said aloud. "Do any of you know what solimane is?"

The question was left unanswered, pure silence emitting around the corridor. "Pups?" He asked again, moving back to the window. "You guys hear me in there?" More silence, Humdinger was beginning to feel a pit in his stomach and almost dreaded looking through the windows again. "Guys? Are you all okay?" Peering through the glass, he saw all six dogs, still sitting in place. Even Skye had stopped moving, laying on the floor and staring into the tile with her bloodshot eyes. Not one looked up at him standing as if they were mourning, statues of pain fixated on the deafening static in their heads. He could see the bags of dog food, not one had been opened.

Squinting though the glass, Humdinger tried to reach them again. "Why have none of you eaten?"

No response.

Realizing he wouldn't get anything out of the pups, the mayor stepped back with a lost expression on his face. Looking back at his cats, whom were all spiking their fur looking incredibly disturbed at something, he knew a dead end was hit. "Well... I'll do some research tomorrow." Humdinger twiddled his thumbs. "I'll... find out what solimane is and... maybe bring you guys something."

He turned to walk off, but briefly called over his shoulder. "I'm... I'm sorry. It's my fault y'all are in there. I thought you'd be out by now, I really did. I wish I could open it myself at this point..." he sighed, reaching out to pet a cat. "This isn't fun anymore." Shaking his head, the mayor left the corridor, leaving the PAW Patrol alone for the rest of the night.