Arrival

Chief sprang to his feet like a cat on a hot tin roof, darting towards the cluttered desk behind him.

He shoved papers and knick-knacks aside in a frenzy, his paws searching desperately for the key amidst the chaos.

Finally, his fingers closed around the cool metal, and he sprinted back to the cell with the determination of a dog chasing a bone.

But fate seemed to have other plans—plans that involved a stubborn lock that refused to yield. The key twisted and turned in Chief's grip, but the damn lock remained steadfastly closed.

Cold sweat beaded on his furry forehead, mixing with the stress of the situation.

"Dammit... come on, you piece of crap!"

Chief cursed under his breath, his frantic attempts to unlock the cell growing more desperate by the second.