Another night of luxury within the steel walls of the abandoned facility. Nothing more comfortable than cheap folding chairs tossed under stained white tables complete with a lunch of instant noodles. Humdinger could've gone anywhere, he chuckled in his mind, but as of now, he preferred to reside alongside his new favorite trap to watch the PAW Patrol's struggles.

Also because he had nowhere else to go.

"All that business in Adventure City," he rambled to his cats, holding a fork of noodles in the air as if it were fine dining. "That didn't count! I wasn't at my best, so it pretty much didn't happen."

Marshall appeared at the window of the sealed room, looking through with an amused expression. "Devastating entire towers trying to control the weather didn't happen?"

"Of course not!" The mayor leaned back in his chair to snap at his captive. "Those scientists didn't tell me how unpredictable that thing was, so it's basically on them." He punctuated his sentence by aggressively chomping on his meal. "Anyway, my political regime is well underway, better than I thought, actually." Tapping his fingers to his chin, he turned to look at the inescapable room. "You guys aren't out of there? It's been nine hours."

"We haven't found the false compartment yet." Chase's voice came through on the speakers. "And we'd probably find it sooner if someone wasn't rifling through the dog food."

"I'm hungry!" The bulldog could be heard barking his reply.

"Well well well," Humdinger sat up, bewildered at the scene before him. "It's not every day I actually keep you longer than an afternoon." A smug grin spread across his face. "You mutts must be losing your touch." Approaching the window curiously, Humdinger peered through in amazement. The PAW Patrol, swiftly contained and unable to escape for longer than half an hour? The notion was practically unheard of. He spent nearly as much time planning his escape plans longer than his actual plans, knowing that the opposing team was always right behind him. To have them under his thumb longer than expected was a brick wall in his expectations.

"Well, this is," he started to say, trying to find the words. "Unexpected, to say the least. You guys really can't find it?"

"We will!" Chase whipped around to bark at the window. "And when we do, we'll…" The shepherd paused, looking aside. "We'll… do what we normally do. But we're getting out, just you wait!"

Walking away from the sealed prison, Humdinger returned to his seat where his cats were waiting, slouching into it and propping his head back. "Eh, I'll give them 12 hours tops. They'll be out by then." He twiddled his thumbs for a while, wondering in his mind how he'd put together a place to sleep on hard floor. His face was blank as he went over his options, debating if he should use his coat for a mattress.

He was pulled from his thoughts when he felt a tug on his pant leg. Looking down quizzically, he saw Spotsy meowing up at him. "What? I already fed you." Humdinger shrugged. "I couldn't find anything else but those chicken bones, no one ever throws away anything good anymore."

Spotsy shook her head, beckoning with her tail across the room. Motioning for her owner to follow, she turned and padded off, a confused Humdinger in tow. She let him around the outside corner of the sealed room, where an odd contraption laid patiently for them. It resembled a large control station riddled with valves and pipes, the distinct lack of screens and keyboards was already confusing the mayor. Even with the absence of clear information, it was more than obvious this machine was important, possibly controlling vital systems all around the facility. Humdinger noted right away the network of pipes that sprouted from the machine, trailing along the walls like snakes and into the sealed room where the PAW Patrol was contained.

"Funny," he said, twirling his mustache while looking the valve handles up and down. "Funny handles in funny little rows." He leaned over to Spotsy, who gracefully leapt up onto the control station. "And I don't mean 'ha ha' funny, I mean the 'hm that's interesting' funny."

Rocky's bark echoed from the room's speakers. "You sound like an idiot."

"Quiet, mutt!" Humdinger pounded on the wall. "I'm learning cool stuff over here!" Straightening his tie, he reached a hand to the large machine, gripping the first valve. "Let's see what this does."

"What 'what' does?" Chase spoke up from inside, having pressed himself against the interior wall for a listen.

Ignoring the dog, Humdinger gripped the metal handle and pulled with all his might. It defied him at first, firmly stuck in place until a low wheeze was heard from the pipes. The handle finally gave loose, sharply turning to the left with a rust-filled crunch. "Alright!" Humdinger wiped the sweat off his forehead. "Uh… pups? Did that do anything?" He skipped back to the window and peered inside.

The six dogs were looking around in confusion, the steel prison cell looking the same as ever. "Nope!" A bulldog bounced up. "But it's getting a lot colder in here now."

"I think that's just the air conditioning." Chase blinked, giving Humdinger a questioning look.

The mayor stood absently. "Oh. … Was it hot in there?"

"No."

"Then I'll turn it off." Humdinger walked back to the machine, gripping the tampered valve and turning it in the opposite direction, sealing its pipes shut. A hiss of air was audible from the pipes above, signaling the diverting air pressure. "Alright, fancy little machine." He rubbed his hands together, fascination in his eyes. "Let's see what else you can do."

A concerned voice came through the speakers, belonging to the easily irritable Labrador. "Can you kindly not pull random crap on us?! We don't need fire suddenly shooting down from the ceiling!"

"Oh quit being a baby!" Humdinger waved him off as he observed the other handles. "I'm just having fun, no one is getting hurt! Now, what's behind door number two? Or… handle number two, in this case." Choosing a valve at random, he grabbed it firmly and pulled it, preparing himself for anything explosive. He expected some grand lightshow of color and action, but was met with only disappointing silence.

"What happened?" He went straight back to his viewing hole, staring inside with anticipation.

The dogs looked around the room in confusion. Marshall gave a shrug, "I don't feel any different." Other dogs nodded, repeating the same.

"Maybe I didn't turn it all the way, Spotsy, turn that handle all the way to the left!" The mayor declared. The white and black spotted cat gave one look at the metal valve with a taken aback expression, then stared back at him with a questioning look. "Oh for Pete's sake, I'll do it!" Humdinger jumped over, unceremoniously shoving the cat off the station. He clamped both hands around the handle and turned it as far as it would go, even exerting more force at its stopping point. "Hrrg!" He grunted, yanking it back with such might that his shoes were sliding on the floor. A sudden jerk of force gave way, snapping the handle just an inch farther than it was intended to go. A clanging pound of metal sounded in the ceiling, followed by a crash as Humdinger's fingers slipped and sent him sailing backward. The cats ran to his aid as he collapsed in a crumpled mess, but Spotsy lingered behind, sniffing the metal handle that defeated the mayor. It was messily forced past its threshold, snapping the mechanism underneath and rendering the valve broken. The pipes connected to it were open, but there was no hope of closing them now.

Spotsy turned to her toppled owner, meowing with concern.

"Oh shove it, cat!" Humdinger snarled, his face reddened with embarrassment. "Those dumb pipes are broken anyway!" Hastily picking himself up and dusting off his clothes, humiliation burned under his skin knowing he just fell before the six pairs of eyes he hated seeing. He'd surely never live that down. "Screw this, I'm going to bed." He said, frantic to save his own pride. "I'm sure you dogs will be out of there by then." He tipped his hat to the sealed room, before turning back to his cats. "Go find a place for me, please." Came his exhausted whisper. "Maybe someone left a pillow lying around."

"Wait!" Chase jumped up against the window. "What about us?"

"Didn't you hear me? I said you'll be out of there by morning. Wouldn't put it past you mutts."

"And if we can't get out?" Chase's voice noticeably dipped, seeming more on edge.

"Why wouldn't you?" Humdinger looked back at him. "Never stopped you before."

The shepherd looked doubtful at his words, flickers of fear briefly showing in what was usually such an ambitious animal. "What were those pipes connected to? The one that you broke?"

"How should I know? Is anything coming in?"

Chase turned back to his friends, where the other dogs were sniffing the air. The mixed breed and bulldog held their noses high but didn't give any sign of finding anything. Marshall's attention was fixated on the overhead vents, staring into the metal grating where the cold air had previously blown out of. The cockapoo and Labrador merely shook their heads, unable to smell anything.

"I... don't think so?" Chase flattened his ears slightly. "I don't think those pipes had anything in them."

"Then you'll be fine." The mayor waved him off. "I'm going to sleep now and I suggest you six do the same. You'll need the energy to escape that room." He sharply turned away so the dog couldn't see his face. "Also... I have political debates to get to tomorrow." His smile slightly returned, remembering his original ambitions. "Night, pups! Don't let the fleas bite!" His joke fell on amused ears as the mayor retired for the night, leaving the room to the dogs.

"Jerkwad." Grumbled the cockapoo, walking to Chase's side. "Can't wait to pee on his shoes when we get out of here."

"Easy, darlin." The shepherd chuckled at her, an endearing smile spreading across his face. "You always chew the pant legs first." He nosed her affectionately, a sight that made the others roll their eyes.

Still looking upward, Marshall spoke up. "Guys? Some weird smell is blowing into here." The Dalmatian narrowed his eyes at the ceiling pipes. "It's coming out of the vents."

"Probably just some rank stench. This place hasn't been used in years." Rocky said, walking to him. "Chase? What do you think?"

The leader of the team wasn't sharing his concerns, giving only a half-hearted response. "Well, we're all still breathing, so it's nothing that'll kill us. In the meantime, let's just get some sleep and figure all these things out."

"I've been trying to fall asleep actually." The bulldog spoke from where he was lying on the floor. "Weirdly, I don't feel tired at all."

"You'll get there." Chase nodded to his friend. "Alright, everyone keep at it. I'm sure we'll make progress eventually, we just... haven't yet."

They all agreed in unison, continuing their search for what they hoped was a vastly approaching way out. As the night went on, and Humdinger peacefully slept in an old office on a stack of papers and folders, the six dogs paced in circles within their prison, restlessly stewing in their unease.