Welcome to the second of 2023's villainous team grunt corpses! For this story, our writers followed the typical day in the life of a grunt in one of the Pokémon world's evil teams. As you might imagine, it's a perfectly normal and stress-free lifestyle! We had eight authors collaborating on this corpse:
The authors of each individual section are under spoilers in case you'd like to try and guess who wrote what!
Thanks to everyone who wrote for this corpse, and to HelloYellow17 for running it! I hope everyone reading it enjoys it as much as I have.
Part One
The life of a team rocket grunt was a sordid and miserable affair.
And that made it perfect for Zoe’s mewtube vlog.
Yes, Zoe ran a trainer vlog. Her mom kinda knew about it, to the extent that she knew how to operate a computer, which meant sorta but not at all really, because she was too ancient to turn a pokegear on without Zoe’s help. In honesty, Zoe had known she had free license to do whatever she wanted after she made the front page of the newspaper, and her mom had either not figured out how to call her or just hadn’t seen the broadcast. That was a relief, because she’d made headlines for blowing the back off a pokecentre during a gym battle. (a spike in views jan 14th)
The only problem was, there were literally a thousand pokemon journey vlogs out there that were just like Zoe’s! And most of them were named something like @[trainer]’s_pokemon_adventure_vlog, just like hers was. Damn that “Blue” guy for coming up with it first. Blue wasn't even his real name... But none of them had gotten footage of the inside of a team rocket base before. She could just imagine the views she was going to bring in – if her channel didn’t go viral from this, it never would. Put a wig on her and call her Einstein, because she’d just stumbled upon a stroke of genius.
And they said kids were stupid these days.
How To Evil Team Grunt, Step One: Break Into The Base.
After stenciling that into her notebook, Zoe had gotten straight to work finding out where grunts were recruited. Nostradamus, her totodile partner, chittered a bit with a neighbourhood pidgey, who was nice enough to fly them to where he saw people in black suits disappear into a wall and never come out.
Nostradamus had heard incorrectly. It was well, not wall. Because wells in the back of alleys weren’t suspicious at all. Something about it being built over by the city was on a plaque she ignored—sounded fake and really evil team-grunty—and she looked down into the depths of the well, which looked really deep and dark.
Nostradamus chirred, saying the pidgey said it wasn’t deep at all and the darkness was just an illusion to keep people away.
“if you’re sure…” said Zoe to the pidgey. “You’d better be right about this, or I’m roasting your feathery ass for dinner.”
She wouldn’t actually—it went against her values as a free-range pokemon colleague, but it made an effective threat when she needed one.
She switched the camera hidden in her pokemon league cap on, clearing her throat loudly.
“Hello, everyone!” she started, hushing her voice. “I’m Zoe, and this is Nostradamus—”
Nostradamus gave a little totodile wave. “and today we’re going to be doing a little something no pokemon journey vlogger has ever done before: we’re going to be spending a day in the life of—“*whisper* a Team Rocket Grunt.
“Now, certain associates of mine tell me—“ Zoe hoisted herself up to the well, preparing to climb down. “that the entrance to Team Rocket’s Super Secret Celadon Base is just down through this well. Whaddaya say we find out?”
She hoped that pidgey was right… at least she had an escape rope in her bag if she needed it.
Nostradamus climbed up onto her shoulder, and with a deep breath, Zoe stared down at the neverending darkness, and soberly hoped she wasn’t going to be on the headlines a day later for untimely deaths and broken bones. Then she let go.
There was a whoosh and a loud blast of air, and she fell and screamed and light vanished. Then she hit a mattress with a thud.
“Hey! You there!”
Before Zoe knew what was happening, she was being handled roughly by two guards in team rocket uniforms. Score!
“I— wait—” said Zoe. She thought fast. “Is this where you’re supposed to sign up for recruitment?”
They roughly sat her down in a chair.
“Who are you?”
“I’m— Zoe! Zoe Regina!”
“What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to become a part of team rocket!”
"Are you the girl who blew up that pokecentre three months ago?"
"That's me, yeah."
"Nice one."
They grabbed her again, and roughly pulled her towards a station. She was stamped with a temporary bar tattoo, and they took her hat. They searched her for pokeballs, but she was a free-range pokemon colleague and had none, so they let her go after that.
“Squad 0031. Your processing room is third door down the right. Get your uniform and briefings. Don’t be late." Then they pushed her out of the room.
Once she was alone in the hall, she sighed in relief, unable to stop herself from letting out a wide-eyed, manic chuckle like a madwomen right after. They were so in. This was so happening!!! She could barely contain herself.
Nostradamus, who’d bounced off of her earlier and hid behind some equipment, scurried back up her arm and onto her shoulder once they were out of sight. Her small camera, not tied to her hat, lay within her bouncy, tangled hair. They were back in business. She’d just cut that part out for the video. Gotta stay classy.
Zoe fixed her hair (and her hidden camera) and high-fived Nostradamus with a giddy grin, the totodile hopping up to meet her hand. Now that they were in the base and all signed up, it was time for How To Evil Team Grunt, Step Two: Acquire Swag.
Part Two
"Can you believe they just give all this away for free?" Zoe admired herself in the mirror someone had leaned against the wall in the storeroom that had apparently become the team's impromptu changing room. "Sweet uniform, new shoes, company phone, and of course the big ticket." She held her new ID card up in the mirror and flashed herself a grin. Totodile cheered; Zoe doubted he had any idea what he was cheering about, but he never missed an opportunity to goof off. "Got your accesss right here, Caesar. We'll be waltzing into the inner sanctum before you know it."
Keep your voice down! Caesar buzzed in her earpiece.
"Come on, Caesar, we won this one! Enjoy the moment!" Zoe stuck out her tongue at herself in the mirror.
An impatient knock on the door. Nostradamus sure was antsy for somebody who dressed like a monk. Zoe didn't give Caesar any time to get a word in edgewise before she wrenched the door open and bounced back into the hall.
"All set! How do I look?"
Nostradamus frowned and reached up to straighten the lapels of Zoe's jacket and smooth down the big "M" on its front. She held her breath as his fingers strayed altogether too close to an incriminating wire. But then Nostradamus stepped back, gave her a long, appraising look, and said, "Acceptable."
Zoe stifled a relieved sigh. "Great. So we're heading to new-minion orientation now, is that it?"
"I have my own meeting to attend," Nostradamus said. Secret admin meeting! Zoe did her best to conceal her excitement. "You can find your own way from here." Nostradamus raised an arm to point down the corridor. He still moved with that weird sort of gravity, seemed to have perfected the dramatic robe-drape. "Follow this hall to where it intersects another corridor. Take the second door on your left. The new acolytes will gather there to hear their first assignment."
Zoe bounced on the balls of her feet. "You got it! Thanks for all your help, Strahd! I'll catch you later, right?"
"The well-set snare captures every foot," Nostradamus replied, and that was that. He was off on his way at a dignified but somehow brisk trot. Zoe set off in the direction he'd pointed, then quietly turned and followed him when his path diverged, following at a distance until she saw him turn off into a room. Then she retraced her steps, muttering to Caesar as she went. "You catch all that? I'm off to do the minion meet and greet, and when I get back, I'll see if there aren't any clues in the mysterious admin office."
Be careful! Caesar said. He didn't really have to bother. That was what he said about 80% of the time anyway.
Zoe practically jogged towards the meeting, tossing off breathless greetings at any other grunt she happened to pass on her way. "Great day for bringing about the apocalypse, am I right?" "Here's to awakening some ancient evils!" She didn't stick around to hear any responses. Making friends was for later. For now, she needed to make it to Grunting 101!
The room wasn't very large. A small auditorium, with around half the seats filled--fifteen or twenty people by Zoe's quick survey, all done up in red and golden yellow. There was a big screen at the front, of course, and also a podium, but there was an altar, too, draped in red fabric with picture frames and statues in elaborate twining gold arranged on top. Very on brand.
Showtime.
Zoe took a deep breath, fixed a friendly smile on her face, and hurried over to meet her new teammates, Totodile bouncing at her heels. Step two was a success! Time for How to Evil Team Grunt, Step Three: Do Some Crime!
For great justice, of course--Zoe's hand strayed once more to her camera, making a quick check that it was still properly concealed.
Part Three
Maybe the life of crime wasn’t so bad after all. The guilt of each lie was replaced with exhilaration, especially given the foundation of good. The leader was surely aiming to improve the world somehow. It was worth it.
Then Zoe looked up in front of her at the dining area of the restaurant she was in, filled with people of all ages, including trainers. Pokeballs were hanging from rigid belts as they ate and chatted without anyone noticing her.
“To start, we’ll go with a Level One crime,” she whispered, pointing the camera at herself. “We call this one: The Pickpocketmon.”
Zoe turned the camera back towards the restaurant crowd, letting it focus before zooming in on a particular bystander. She scrutinized the unsuspecting trainer, noting subtle signs that marked them as a potential target. Their threadbare shoes hinted at a lack of luxury, and the faded logo on their T-shirt suggested a modest wardrobe, but she wouldn’t be fooled that easily.
“Take a look at that person there. You know why they're gonna be our target today?”
She took note of the way they held their cutlery with precision, the polite way they dabbed their lips with a cloth napkin, and their effortless knowledge of which fork to use. These were all signs that this trainer had been exposed to a world of culinary sophistication.
"This person," Zoe explained, her excitement building, "may not wear their wealth on their sleeve, but their impeccable dining etiquette tells me they've dined in places fancier than a Meowth in a tuxedo. We're in for a treat!"
Zoe moved discreetly towards her target, her footsteps so silent that she resembled a greninja. Her nimble fingers, well-versed sleight-of-hand, were poised for the act.
As she approached the trainer, she pretended to stumble slightly and accidentally bumped into the target, dropping down to a knee. She gave them a ditzy smile and a shrug.
“Sorry!” The apology was delivered with charm, accompanied by a gentle shoulder tap that could disarm even the most cautious observer.
The unsuspecting trainer, under the spell of Zoe's charismatic act, responded with a friendly nod and a forgiving smile. They returned to their meal, entirely oblivious to the daring theft that had just transpired. Zoe, triumphant and exhilarated, smoothly pocketed the stolen Pokeball, flashing one last charming grin at the trainer before retreating. "And that, my friends," she whispered to her camera, "is the art of the 'Pickpocketmon' operation with a touch of finesse!"
Triumphant, Zoe made her way outside of the restaurant, the stolen Pokeball and camera both concealed expertly. She turned the camera back to her. “Now let’s see what our haul got us this time! Drumroll, please!”
Click! She presses the button on the Pokéball.
“It’s a–” Zoe’s earlier thrill began to dissolve as she saw the Pokémon materialize in front of her. It was small, scuttling around her feet with big ears. A measly little Rattata.
“Alright, maybe I was a little wrong,” she said, waving her hand dismissively in the air. “The target was probably just a normal person who happened to have manners.”
Zoe recalled the stolen Rattata, slightly less satisfied with how the Team Grunt tutorial video was going. She wanted the crime to yield a much rarer Pokémon, so she set her jaw and looked back into the camera.
“See, wasn’t that easy? But that’s not enough. Let me show you what a Level Two crime looks like,” Zoe said, a sweet but naughty smile taking over her face.
Part Four
Willem looked at the Ultra Ball in his hands. If stealing a shiny Steelix was a Level One crime, what could a Level Two crime possibly entail? Monty, his Combusken, scratched his head uncertainly.
“Look up there.”
Willem followed Zoe’s gaze around the corner of their hiding spot to a small coffee stand off the road. It was nothing more than a shipping container with two holes for windows cut out and several large palm fronds and plumeria flowers adorning the trim. Island Girl was painted in white letters over the walk-up windows. A line of at least 15 people stood before it, and several others were gathered at the pickup counter.
“Our next prize is just behind that coffee shop counter,” Zoe whispered. “Now, listen carefully—this is just as important as capturing the Pokemon. Scratch that—it’s more important! If we don’t succeed, Courtney will never forgive us, and neither will the other Team Magma grunts.”
Sweat beaded on Willem’s forehead. “O—okay,” he stuttered. Was he really cut out for this? “How do you feel about this, Monty?”
“Squawk…” Monty chirped nervously, looking fearfully at the coffee stand as one customer complained particularly loudly.
“Excuse me, but I am your customer! Do you NOT see this line?! Why are you talking to your manager? If YOU’RE a cashier, then you take MY order, and pay attention to ME! Now, if you actually listen, I told you that I’m ALLERGIC to lactose, and so I want almond milk in my drink, and FOUR pumps of vanilla, not two!”
“Now’s our chance!”
Zoe’s eyes gleamed with excitement. “Send Monty in there to grab three bags of Alolan Medium-Dark roast coffee beans!”
“Monty, you heard—wait wait wait, that’s it?!”
Willem and Monty looked incredulously at Zoe, who looked equally as shocked.
“Did I stutter? I told you! Go grab those beans—whole beans, not grounds—or else Courtney will skin us alive! She’s very particular about her coffee, and won’t drink anything other than Alolan Medium-Dark roast! Our team can’t operate without caffeine; this operation is one of the first lessons we teach new recruits, and this is by far the most important mission we have.”
“Monty and I risk our lives to get around several armed guards, lazer beams, locked doors, and booby traps to catch a super-powerful and rare Pokemon—and now we’re expected to give it all up for some coffee?!?”
“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into, Willem. Those customers at the Alolan Island Girl Coffee Shack are vicious. They make stealing Pokemon look like a walk in the park! If you’re going to succeed, you need to use all of the skills I taught you!” Zoe said.
Part Five
“I know,” said Willem, the gravity of the situation finally settling over him. But there was no backing out now, he knew what he signed up for when he accepted this mission. Still, the thought sent a shiver down his spine of what he was about to do. Volunteering to buy drinks for the entire Unit at peak business hours. A fool's errand, more dangerous than battling the Elite 4 themselves.
Yet... success meant finally getting a raise and a promotion. No more ‘Grunt 37’ wearing an identical uniform with a bad dye job. He could finally become Admin Willem. And he’d be allowed to carry more than a regional bug, a Zubat, and a Rattata.
He flashed a devious grin and gripped the list of coffee orders tighter. “I won’t let down Team Solar!”
~
Willem took a deep breath and pushed the door to the Coffee Shack open. The building was packed to the brim with customers, jostling each other to get towards the front of line. At the register a group of six teenagers ‘ummmed’ and ‘aaahhed’ over what to order.
Willem checked his watch and tapped his foot as he waited. 1 minute... 2.... 5... 8 minutes. Finally the group of teens moved on, having decided what they wanted. The line dragged on, seemingly more and more customers piling in. Kids screeched far too loudly and ran about the shop. One guy completely jostled past an old man ahead of him.
Someone bumped him as they headed for the exit and spilled a splash of cold coffee on him. He whipped around, ready to chew someone out, but they were already gone. Another gaggle of teenagers at the register deliberated for five more minutes on their order despite having been waiting in line for nearly ten minutes.
Willem’s patience began to wear thin. His hand dropped to his pokeball. Maybe... After all the goal was just to bring back drinks for his unit. No. He should keep his cool.
A woman brushed past him, weaving through the crowd and shoving her way to the front. She wore massive sunglasses and straightened hair cut short and brushed to the side. She stormed right up to one of the barista’s, jabbing a finger in his face and screeching about wanting to speak to a manager.
That was it.
“Go Zubat! Supersonic!”
An earsplitting screech filled the coffeeshop and the other customers dropped to their knees. Willem stepped around them and up to the register, relishing the peace that now reigned, and smiled at the barista. “I have a coffee order to place.”
Part Six
The barista, a young man in his teens, managed to stiffen his fear and replied, “Erm…sugar?”
Willem stared at the teeanger, grinning. “Add as much as humanly possible.” He leaned his arm against the counter, edging closer to the barista. “...I want that shit to be diabetes inducing.”
The barista gulped, but promptly stepped away from the counter to the back.
He heard murmurs from all around him, but he couldn’t be bothered. He was The Willem. A member of an awesome evil team! He was cool as fuck, and could do whatever he wanted!
Willem perked up when he heard barking around him. The man promptly turned around, seeing a small Lillipup. The dog growled, ignoring the distressed cries of their owner. The owner in question cowered in fear — a businessman, it seemed — quietly called for Lillipup to return.
A grin spread across his face, his Zubat mirroring his expression. How cute.
Willem chose to ignore the canine growling and barking at him, turning away from it. He yawned, leaning against the countertop once more.
The Lillipup gritted its teeth, before pouncing forward. Zubat promptly reacted by wildly flapping its wings, forcing the dog to step back. Willem looked down, snorting. “Go away, runt.”
The canine’s owner scurried forward, a look of panic evident on his gloom-riddled face. Willem cocked his head. “I’ll let you off this time, next time, watch that dog— mkay?”
The man apologized profusely, and hastily ran from him into the crowd.
Willem rolled his eyes. He needed to keep his image as a gangster clear, and he would hate to injure such an adorable dog.
“D…done!”
He turned around, watching the young barista from before extend an arm out, holding a cup of coffee. The poor guy’s arm was shaking.
Willem smiled. “Don’t be so nervous! I won’t hurt you!”
He took the cup of coffee in his hand, closing his eyes as he took a sip of it. The warm, refreshing liquid filled to the brim with sugary nonsense relaxed him. Ah. Another day, another session of rocketing his blood sugar levels! He heard the soft whimpers from all in the coffee shop, all terrified at the mere thought of him escalating the situation further.
Suddenly, the windows cracked.
Willem opened his eyes, and he saw the door barge open.
He cursed to himself. The authorities had arrived.
From the air shot forward a stream of water, the attack clearly aimed at him. Willem slid to the left, his left arm reaching for his other Pokeball, but it was too late. The stream of water splashed all over him, causing him to trip and spill the coffee on the countertop.
Fuck! Not my diabetes-inducing coffee!
“Zubat! Supersonic!” The bat puffed its chest, before releasing another blood-curdling screech. Willem saw uniformed men enter the premises, and quickly flicked a second Pokeball off of his belt. From the capsule emerged a Koffing. He shouted out, “Smokescreen!”
Then, he ran for it.
Part Seven
I threw the sad remains of my coffee over my shoulder as I ran (hopefully turning the tile floor into a slip hazard in the process). All the while, my mind was racing. Someone had to have called the cops on our operation to take over all the local Starboks. But who? No one on the team had any good reason to want to sabotage this mission. Unless they were trying to cause problems for me specifically? Nonsense, I’m one of the most popular guys on the team!
Unless… unless it was that bastard Mike. He hated getting sent to pick up the team’s coffee orders. And he was always getting my coffee order wrong. On purpose! He knows I don’t drink decaf!
Yeah, it had to be Mike.
I burst through the doors into the back of the Starboks, glancing around in a hurry. This was probably the break room. Of course, all the employees had fled the moment the takeover began. There were plenty of supplies back here, ripe for the taking—secret ingredients, special machinery, all things that the team could use to power up its forces. With the power of caffeine backing us, we’d be unstoppable.
The cops would be on my tail soon. I’d have to grab this stuff quick and get out, and also track down the traitor while I was at it. It was a big job, and I’d need help doing it.
I let out Koffing, pointed at a sack of coffee beans, and said, “C’mon, I need help carrying this stuff.
“Kofff…” Koffing made a dismayed face and bobbed up and down to accentuate the point.
“I know you don’t have arms, can’t you just balance a sack on your head?” I said exasperatedly.
Koffing levitated over to the bag, attempting to wedge itself under the bag, but only succeeding in knocking the bag over. I let out a heavy sigh and bent down to lift the sack—oh geez, this was heavier than I’d thought—and carefully balance it on top of Koffing’s head…
And then a voice broke my concentration: “Hey, Willem, the cops have the building surrounded, we gotta bail!”
“You!” I exclaimed, standing bolt upright and dropping the sack, scattering coffee beans all across the break room.
“...Me??” said Mike in confusion, as if he weren’t the reason this job had gone south to begin with! The nerve!
“Traitor! Zubat, do the thing!” I yelled, hurling a ball forward to release a very confused Zubat right into Mike’s face.
Part Eight
Zubat, flapping wildly, turned to check with me that I definitely wanted it to do the thing to Mike. Mike staggered back, his eyes wide and face pale.
I could still only see red – I heaved the coffee table over, scattering countless pokédollar bills from the base's copy of Monopoly: Kanto Edition across the room. Now that son of a bitch Mike would never get to build a goddamn hotel on Saffron City!
"That's what you get for betraying the team!" I shouted, advancing on him. "Do it, Zubat! The thing!"
Zubat chittered anxiously, but it did as it was told and did the thing. It opened its mouth and screamed near-silently at Mike, who clapped his hands to his ears and groaned as the thing inflicted Confusion on him.
"Ha! Fifty-five percent of the time, it works a hundred percent of the time!"
"Willem! I swear I didn't do nothing!" stammered Mike, as he turned and ran head-first into the break room wall, taking recoil damage as he did.
The door to the garage flew open, the rest of the crew spilling into the break room, duffel bags hanging from their shoulders.
"The hell is going on here, Willem?" demanded Benny.
"Mike let the fucking cops follow us!" I yelled. "He's a filthy Rattata!"
Benny's Rattata emerged from its ball, squeaking a battle-cry.
"Not you, Rattata!"
"It's not my fault! I'd never Rattata any of you out!" pleaded Mike, gesturing with his palms up, tearfully reasoning with the potted plant in the corner.
Benny opened his mouth to speak, but then the sound of sirens cut off any further dialogue. A megaphone-boosted voice from outside sounded off, demanding that we "come out, with your hands on your heads!"
I glanced through the blinds on the door. Cops, cop cars, cop 'mon. Why always dogs? Arcanine, Stoutland, even a Bolthund who'd get at our ankles if we tried to run. The Arcanine casually approached the building, opened its mouth, and promptly began to spew thick, black smoke into the garage, to flush us out!
Mike looked for an exit. Benny and the rest of the crew followed his lead.
"There's no way," I muttered, staring at my fists. "There's no way we get outta this. If that ten-year-old kid could thrash our sorry butts, there's no way we can take on the cops."
"Makes you wonder why the cops didn't clean our clocks ages ago," mused Benny.
"Shut up and think of something!" I snapped.
The black smoke began to fill the break room, followed shortly by my poor lungs. I started coughing and wheezing.
Benny's Koffing emerged from its ball, followed shortly by his Weezing.
"Not you guys!" I cried.
"Wait, hang on – Koffing, Weezing, suck up all the Smokescreen!" ordered Benny. Genius!
In moments, the gasbags had cleared the air. But still...
"We still need a way to get past the cops," I groaned.
The whole crew looked dumbfounded. Benny the 'genius' was out of ideas, and beginning to sweat. Mike, stumbling towards us with his arms outstretched, was the one to break the tension.
"I swear I didn't mean to let 'em tail us," he insisted, hoarsely, "but I'll make up for messing up. I'll distract them. You guys run out the garage when I have their attention."
I stared, slack-jawed, as Mike sprinted for the window, jumped, and crashed straight through it onto the ground outside.
"I'm okay!" he shouted, drunkenly, before booking it, arms whirling, away from the base's garage. The dumbass kept dropping poké balls as he went – releasing Tyranitar, Snorlax, Houndoom, Vileplume, and a pair of Weavile.
"Damn," said Benny. "Did you guys know Mike was any good at training pokémon?"
"He didn't train those, they're all stolen! That's our entire fucking schtick, dumbass!"
"Oh. Yeah, that makes more sense."
"Come on, morons!" I shouted, leading the way out, the crew in tow. "Let's scarper!"
Somehow, the crew and I made it past all the cops while they were distracted with Mike's badass pokémon that weren't his but were battling for him anyway for some fucking reason. The regular citizens on the streets blandly assumed we were late to a con in full cosplay, and we didn't find any more trouble. Eventually, we got to the nearest safehouse, half-delirious from legging it on the double the whole way.
"We need a new plan," I muttered. "The base is useless to us now, and the bosses will tan our hides for messing up this bad."
"Nah. It's okay," replied Benny, as if this were obvious. "We'll just lay low for a bit and reform our Organisation in a few years' time. Doesn't really matter what happens in the meantime. There's an endless supply of guys willing to work for a criminal organisation with cheap uniforms. That's just how things are in this country."
"You're serious?" said Rocket Grunt Gemma, speaking up at last. "Why bother? What if we just went split the money and went our separate ways? Quit our lives of crime while we're ahead? Enjoy our ill-gotten gains instead of chasing the same impossible goals forever in the name of self-defeating greed?"
I, Benny, and everyone else turned to face her, all wearing the same look of shock and confusion.
"No," I said, firmly. "We're Team Rocket. We keep trying the same thing time after time in theblind hope that eventually it won't go horribly wrong. This way, eventually we'll get lucky and achieve world domination and we'll be able to say we had a winning strategy from the very beginning. Obviously."
"Well said!" cheered Benny. "Three cheers for Boss Willem! Here's to Team Rocket... 2!"
Chibi Pika
Flyg0n
Junebug44
Negrek
Shizzza
SparklingEspeon
Starlight Aurate
unrepentantAuthor
Flyg0n
Junebug44
Negrek
Shizzza
SparklingEspeon
Starlight Aurate
unrepentantAuthor
The authors of each individual section are under spoilers in case you'd like to try and guess who wrote what!
Thanks to everyone who wrote for this corpse, and to HelloYellow17 for running it! I hope everyone reading it enjoys it as much as I have.
Thousand Roads' Exquisite Corpse 2023
Villainous Team Grunt II
Villainous Team Grunt II
Part One
The life of a team rocket grunt was a sordid and miserable affair.
And that made it perfect for Zoe’s mewtube vlog.
Yes, Zoe ran a trainer vlog. Her mom kinda knew about it, to the extent that she knew how to operate a computer, which meant sorta but not at all really, because she was too ancient to turn a pokegear on without Zoe’s help. In honesty, Zoe had known she had free license to do whatever she wanted after she made the front page of the newspaper, and her mom had either not figured out how to call her or just hadn’t seen the broadcast. That was a relief, because she’d made headlines for blowing the back off a pokecentre during a gym battle. (a spike in views jan 14th)
The only problem was, there were literally a thousand pokemon journey vlogs out there that were just like Zoe’s! And most of them were named something like @[trainer]’s_pokemon_adventure_vlog, just like hers was. Damn that “Blue” guy for coming up with it first. Blue wasn't even his real name... But none of them had gotten footage of the inside of a team rocket base before. She could just imagine the views she was going to bring in – if her channel didn’t go viral from this, it never would. Put a wig on her and call her Einstein, because she’d just stumbled upon a stroke of genius.
And they said kids were stupid these days.
How To Evil Team Grunt, Step One: Break Into The Base.
After stenciling that into her notebook, Zoe had gotten straight to work finding out where grunts were recruited. Nostradamus, her totodile partner, chittered a bit with a neighbourhood pidgey, who was nice enough to fly them to where he saw people in black suits disappear into a wall and never come out.
Nostradamus had heard incorrectly. It was well, not wall. Because wells in the back of alleys weren’t suspicious at all. Something about it being built over by the city was on a plaque she ignored—sounded fake and really evil team-grunty—and she looked down into the depths of the well, which looked really deep and dark.
Nostradamus chirred, saying the pidgey said it wasn’t deep at all and the darkness was just an illusion to keep people away.
“if you’re sure…” said Zoe to the pidgey. “You’d better be right about this, or I’m roasting your feathery ass for dinner.”
She wouldn’t actually—it went against her values as a free-range pokemon colleague, but it made an effective threat when she needed one.
She switched the camera hidden in her pokemon league cap on, clearing her throat loudly.
“Hello, everyone!” she started, hushing her voice. “I’m Zoe, and this is Nostradamus—”
Nostradamus gave a little totodile wave. “and today we’re going to be doing a little something no pokemon journey vlogger has ever done before: we’re going to be spending a day in the life of—“*whisper* a Team Rocket Grunt.
“Now, certain associates of mine tell me—“ Zoe hoisted herself up to the well, preparing to climb down. “that the entrance to Team Rocket’s Super Secret Celadon Base is just down through this well. Whaddaya say we find out?”
She hoped that pidgey was right… at least she had an escape rope in her bag if she needed it.
Nostradamus climbed up onto her shoulder, and with a deep breath, Zoe stared down at the neverending darkness, and soberly hoped she wasn’t going to be on the headlines a day later for untimely deaths and broken bones. Then she let go.
There was a whoosh and a loud blast of air, and she fell and screamed and light vanished. Then she hit a mattress with a thud.
“Hey! You there!”
Before Zoe knew what was happening, she was being handled roughly by two guards in team rocket uniforms. Score!
“I— wait—” said Zoe. She thought fast. “Is this where you’re supposed to sign up for recruitment?”
They roughly sat her down in a chair.
“Who are you?”
“I’m— Zoe! Zoe Regina!”
“What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to become a part of team rocket!”
"Are you the girl who blew up that pokecentre three months ago?"
"That's me, yeah."
"Nice one."
They grabbed her again, and roughly pulled her towards a station. She was stamped with a temporary bar tattoo, and they took her hat. They searched her for pokeballs, but she was a free-range pokemon colleague and had none, so they let her go after that.
“Squad 0031. Your processing room is third door down the right. Get your uniform and briefings. Don’t be late." Then they pushed her out of the room.
Once she was alone in the hall, she sighed in relief, unable to stop herself from letting out a wide-eyed, manic chuckle like a madwomen right after. They were so in. This was so happening!!! She could barely contain herself.
Nostradamus, who’d bounced off of her earlier and hid behind some equipment, scurried back up her arm and onto her shoulder once they were out of sight. Her small camera, not tied to her hat, lay within her bouncy, tangled hair. They were back in business. She’d just cut that part out for the video. Gotta stay classy.
Zoe fixed her hair (and her hidden camera) and high-fived Nostradamus with a giddy grin, the totodile hopping up to meet her hand. Now that they were in the base and all signed up, it was time for How To Evil Team Grunt, Step Two: Acquire Swag.
SparklingEspeon
Part Two
"Can you believe they just give all this away for free?" Zoe admired herself in the mirror someone had leaned against the wall in the storeroom that had apparently become the team's impromptu changing room. "Sweet uniform, new shoes, company phone, and of course the big ticket." She held her new ID card up in the mirror and flashed herself a grin. Totodile cheered; Zoe doubted he had any idea what he was cheering about, but he never missed an opportunity to goof off. "Got your accesss right here, Caesar. We'll be waltzing into the inner sanctum before you know it."
Keep your voice down! Caesar buzzed in her earpiece.
"Come on, Caesar, we won this one! Enjoy the moment!" Zoe stuck out her tongue at herself in the mirror.
An impatient knock on the door. Nostradamus sure was antsy for somebody who dressed like a monk. Zoe didn't give Caesar any time to get a word in edgewise before she wrenched the door open and bounced back into the hall.
"All set! How do I look?"
Nostradamus frowned and reached up to straighten the lapels of Zoe's jacket and smooth down the big "M" on its front. She held her breath as his fingers strayed altogether too close to an incriminating wire. But then Nostradamus stepped back, gave her a long, appraising look, and said, "Acceptable."
Zoe stifled a relieved sigh. "Great. So we're heading to new-minion orientation now, is that it?"
"I have my own meeting to attend," Nostradamus said. Secret admin meeting! Zoe did her best to conceal her excitement. "You can find your own way from here." Nostradamus raised an arm to point down the corridor. He still moved with that weird sort of gravity, seemed to have perfected the dramatic robe-drape. "Follow this hall to where it intersects another corridor. Take the second door on your left. The new acolytes will gather there to hear their first assignment."
Zoe bounced on the balls of her feet. "You got it! Thanks for all your help, Strahd! I'll catch you later, right?"
"The well-set snare captures every foot," Nostradamus replied, and that was that. He was off on his way at a dignified but somehow brisk trot. Zoe set off in the direction he'd pointed, then quietly turned and followed him when his path diverged, following at a distance until she saw him turn off into a room. Then she retraced her steps, muttering to Caesar as she went. "You catch all that? I'm off to do the minion meet and greet, and when I get back, I'll see if there aren't any clues in the mysterious admin office."
Be careful! Caesar said. He didn't really have to bother. That was what he said about 80% of the time anyway.
Zoe practically jogged towards the meeting, tossing off breathless greetings at any other grunt she happened to pass on her way. "Great day for bringing about the apocalypse, am I right?" "Here's to awakening some ancient evils!" She didn't stick around to hear any responses. Making friends was for later. For now, she needed to make it to Grunting 101!
The room wasn't very large. A small auditorium, with around half the seats filled--fifteen or twenty people by Zoe's quick survey, all done up in red and golden yellow. There was a big screen at the front, of course, and also a podium, but there was an altar, too, draped in red fabric with picture frames and statues in elaborate twining gold arranged on top. Very on brand.
Showtime.
Zoe took a deep breath, fixed a friendly smile on her face, and hurried over to meet her new teammates, Totodile bouncing at her heels. Step two was a success! Time for How to Evil Team Grunt, Step Three: Do Some Crime!
For great justice, of course--Zoe's hand strayed once more to her camera, making a quick check that it was still properly concealed.
Negrek
Part Three
Maybe the life of crime wasn’t so bad after all. The guilt of each lie was replaced with exhilaration, especially given the foundation of good. The leader was surely aiming to improve the world somehow. It was worth it.
Then Zoe looked up in front of her at the dining area of the restaurant she was in, filled with people of all ages, including trainers. Pokeballs were hanging from rigid belts as they ate and chatted without anyone noticing her.
“To start, we’ll go with a Level One crime,” she whispered, pointing the camera at herself. “We call this one: The Pickpocketmon.”
Zoe turned the camera back towards the restaurant crowd, letting it focus before zooming in on a particular bystander. She scrutinized the unsuspecting trainer, noting subtle signs that marked them as a potential target. Their threadbare shoes hinted at a lack of luxury, and the faded logo on their T-shirt suggested a modest wardrobe, but she wouldn’t be fooled that easily.
“Take a look at that person there. You know why they're gonna be our target today?”
She took note of the way they held their cutlery with precision, the polite way they dabbed their lips with a cloth napkin, and their effortless knowledge of which fork to use. These were all signs that this trainer had been exposed to a world of culinary sophistication.
"This person," Zoe explained, her excitement building, "may not wear their wealth on their sleeve, but their impeccable dining etiquette tells me they've dined in places fancier than a Meowth in a tuxedo. We're in for a treat!"
Zoe moved discreetly towards her target, her footsteps so silent that she resembled a greninja. Her nimble fingers, well-versed sleight-of-hand, were poised for the act.
As she approached the trainer, she pretended to stumble slightly and accidentally bumped into the target, dropping down to a knee. She gave them a ditzy smile and a shrug.
“Sorry!” The apology was delivered with charm, accompanied by a gentle shoulder tap that could disarm even the most cautious observer.
The unsuspecting trainer, under the spell of Zoe's charismatic act, responded with a friendly nod and a forgiving smile. They returned to their meal, entirely oblivious to the daring theft that had just transpired. Zoe, triumphant and exhilarated, smoothly pocketed the stolen Pokeball, flashing one last charming grin at the trainer before retreating. "And that, my friends," she whispered to her camera, "is the art of the 'Pickpocketmon' operation with a touch of finesse!"
Triumphant, Zoe made her way outside of the restaurant, the stolen Pokeball and camera both concealed expertly. She turned the camera back to her. “Now let’s see what our haul got us this time! Drumroll, please!”
Click! She presses the button on the Pokéball.
“It’s a–” Zoe’s earlier thrill began to dissolve as she saw the Pokémon materialize in front of her. It was small, scuttling around her feet with big ears. A measly little Rattata.
“Alright, maybe I was a little wrong,” she said, waving her hand dismissively in the air. “The target was probably just a normal person who happened to have manners.”
Zoe recalled the stolen Rattata, slightly less satisfied with how the Team Grunt tutorial video was going. She wanted the crime to yield a much rarer Pokémon, so she set her jaw and looked back into the camera.
“See, wasn’t that easy? But that’s not enough. Let me show you what a Level Two crime looks like,” Zoe said, a sweet but naughty smile taking over her face.
Junebug44
Part Four
Willem looked at the Ultra Ball in his hands. If stealing a shiny Steelix was a Level One crime, what could a Level Two crime possibly entail? Monty, his Combusken, scratched his head uncertainly.
“Look up there.”
Willem followed Zoe’s gaze around the corner of their hiding spot to a small coffee stand off the road. It was nothing more than a shipping container with two holes for windows cut out and several large palm fronds and plumeria flowers adorning the trim. Island Girl was painted in white letters over the walk-up windows. A line of at least 15 people stood before it, and several others were gathered at the pickup counter.
“Our next prize is just behind that coffee shop counter,” Zoe whispered. “Now, listen carefully—this is just as important as capturing the Pokemon. Scratch that—it’s more important! If we don’t succeed, Courtney will never forgive us, and neither will the other Team Magma grunts.”
Sweat beaded on Willem’s forehead. “O—okay,” he stuttered. Was he really cut out for this? “How do you feel about this, Monty?”
“Squawk…” Monty chirped nervously, looking fearfully at the coffee stand as one customer complained particularly loudly.
“Excuse me, but I am your customer! Do you NOT see this line?! Why are you talking to your manager? If YOU’RE a cashier, then you take MY order, and pay attention to ME! Now, if you actually listen, I told you that I’m ALLERGIC to lactose, and so I want almond milk in my drink, and FOUR pumps of vanilla, not two!”
“Now’s our chance!”
Zoe’s eyes gleamed with excitement. “Send Monty in there to grab three bags of Alolan Medium-Dark roast coffee beans!”
“Monty, you heard—wait wait wait, that’s it?!”
Willem and Monty looked incredulously at Zoe, who looked equally as shocked.
“Did I stutter? I told you! Go grab those beans—whole beans, not grounds—or else Courtney will skin us alive! She’s very particular about her coffee, and won’t drink anything other than Alolan Medium-Dark roast! Our team can’t operate without caffeine; this operation is one of the first lessons we teach new recruits, and this is by far the most important mission we have.”
“Monty and I risk our lives to get around several armed guards, lazer beams, locked doors, and booby traps to catch a super-powerful and rare Pokemon—and now we’re expected to give it all up for some coffee?!?”
“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into, Willem. Those customers at the Alolan Island Girl Coffee Shack are vicious. They make stealing Pokemon look like a walk in the park! If you’re going to succeed, you need to use all of the skills I taught you!” Zoe said.
Starlight Aurate
Part Five
“I know,” said Willem, the gravity of the situation finally settling over him. But there was no backing out now, he knew what he signed up for when he accepted this mission. Still, the thought sent a shiver down his spine of what he was about to do. Volunteering to buy drinks for the entire Unit at peak business hours. A fool's errand, more dangerous than battling the Elite 4 themselves.
Yet... success meant finally getting a raise and a promotion. No more ‘Grunt 37’ wearing an identical uniform with a bad dye job. He could finally become Admin Willem. And he’d be allowed to carry more than a regional bug, a Zubat, and a Rattata.
He flashed a devious grin and gripped the list of coffee orders tighter. “I won’t let down Team Solar!”
~
Willem took a deep breath and pushed the door to the Coffee Shack open. The building was packed to the brim with customers, jostling each other to get towards the front of line. At the register a group of six teenagers ‘ummmed’ and ‘aaahhed’ over what to order.
Willem checked his watch and tapped his foot as he waited. 1 minute... 2.... 5... 8 minutes. Finally the group of teens moved on, having decided what they wanted. The line dragged on, seemingly more and more customers piling in. Kids screeched far too loudly and ran about the shop. One guy completely jostled past an old man ahead of him.
Someone bumped him as they headed for the exit and spilled a splash of cold coffee on him. He whipped around, ready to chew someone out, but they were already gone. Another gaggle of teenagers at the register deliberated for five more minutes on their order despite having been waiting in line for nearly ten minutes.
Willem’s patience began to wear thin. His hand dropped to his pokeball. Maybe... After all the goal was just to bring back drinks for his unit. No. He should keep his cool.
A woman brushed past him, weaving through the crowd and shoving her way to the front. She wore massive sunglasses and straightened hair cut short and brushed to the side. She stormed right up to one of the barista’s, jabbing a finger in his face and screeching about wanting to speak to a manager.
That was it.
“Go Zubat! Supersonic!”
An earsplitting screech filled the coffeeshop and the other customers dropped to their knees. Willem stepped around them and up to the register, relishing the peace that now reigned, and smiled at the barista. “I have a coffee order to place.”
Flyg0n
Part Six
The barista, a young man in his teens, managed to stiffen his fear and replied, “Erm…sugar?”
Willem stared at the teeanger, grinning. “Add as much as humanly possible.” He leaned his arm against the counter, edging closer to the barista. “...I want that shit to be diabetes inducing.”
The barista gulped, but promptly stepped away from the counter to the back.
He heard murmurs from all around him, but he couldn’t be bothered. He was The Willem. A member of an awesome evil team! He was cool as fuck, and could do whatever he wanted!
Willem perked up when he heard barking around him. The man promptly turned around, seeing a small Lillipup. The dog growled, ignoring the distressed cries of their owner. The owner in question cowered in fear — a businessman, it seemed — quietly called for Lillipup to return.
A grin spread across his face, his Zubat mirroring his expression. How cute.
Willem chose to ignore the canine growling and barking at him, turning away from it. He yawned, leaning against the countertop once more.
The Lillipup gritted its teeth, before pouncing forward. Zubat promptly reacted by wildly flapping its wings, forcing the dog to step back. Willem looked down, snorting. “Go away, runt.”
The canine’s owner scurried forward, a look of panic evident on his gloom-riddled face. Willem cocked his head. “I’ll let you off this time, next time, watch that dog— mkay?”
The man apologized profusely, and hastily ran from him into the crowd.
Willem rolled his eyes. He needed to keep his image as a gangster clear, and he would hate to injure such an adorable dog.
“D…done!”
He turned around, watching the young barista from before extend an arm out, holding a cup of coffee. The poor guy’s arm was shaking.
Willem smiled. “Don’t be so nervous! I won’t hurt you!”
He took the cup of coffee in his hand, closing his eyes as he took a sip of it. The warm, refreshing liquid filled to the brim with sugary nonsense relaxed him. Ah. Another day, another session of rocketing his blood sugar levels! He heard the soft whimpers from all in the coffee shop, all terrified at the mere thought of him escalating the situation further.
Suddenly, the windows cracked.
Willem opened his eyes, and he saw the door barge open.
He cursed to himself. The authorities had arrived.
From the air shot forward a stream of water, the attack clearly aimed at him. Willem slid to the left, his left arm reaching for his other Pokeball, but it was too late. The stream of water splashed all over him, causing him to trip and spill the coffee on the countertop.
Fuck! Not my diabetes-inducing coffee!
“Zubat! Supersonic!” The bat puffed its chest, before releasing another blood-curdling screech. Willem saw uniformed men enter the premises, and quickly flicked a second Pokeball off of his belt. From the capsule emerged a Koffing. He shouted out, “Smokescreen!”
Then, he ran for it.
Shizzza
Part Seven
I threw the sad remains of my coffee over my shoulder as I ran (hopefully turning the tile floor into a slip hazard in the process). All the while, my mind was racing. Someone had to have called the cops on our operation to take over all the local Starboks. But who? No one on the team had any good reason to want to sabotage this mission. Unless they were trying to cause problems for me specifically? Nonsense, I’m one of the most popular guys on the team!
Unless… unless it was that bastard Mike. He hated getting sent to pick up the team’s coffee orders. And he was always getting my coffee order wrong. On purpose! He knows I don’t drink decaf!
Yeah, it had to be Mike.
I burst through the doors into the back of the Starboks, glancing around in a hurry. This was probably the break room. Of course, all the employees had fled the moment the takeover began. There were plenty of supplies back here, ripe for the taking—secret ingredients, special machinery, all things that the team could use to power up its forces. With the power of caffeine backing us, we’d be unstoppable.
The cops would be on my tail soon. I’d have to grab this stuff quick and get out, and also track down the traitor while I was at it. It was a big job, and I’d need help doing it.
I let out Koffing, pointed at a sack of coffee beans, and said, “C’mon, I need help carrying this stuff.
“Kofff…” Koffing made a dismayed face and bobbed up and down to accentuate the point.
“I know you don’t have arms, can’t you just balance a sack on your head?” I said exasperatedly.
Koffing levitated over to the bag, attempting to wedge itself under the bag, but only succeeding in knocking the bag over. I let out a heavy sigh and bent down to lift the sack—oh geez, this was heavier than I’d thought—and carefully balance it on top of Koffing’s head…
And then a voice broke my concentration: “Hey, Willem, the cops have the building surrounded, we gotta bail!”
“You!” I exclaimed, standing bolt upright and dropping the sack, scattering coffee beans all across the break room.
“...Me??” said Mike in confusion, as if he weren’t the reason this job had gone south to begin with! The nerve!
“Traitor! Zubat, do the thing!” I yelled, hurling a ball forward to release a very confused Zubat right into Mike’s face.
Chibi Pika
Part Eight
Zubat, flapping wildly, turned to check with me that I definitely wanted it to do the thing to Mike. Mike staggered back, his eyes wide and face pale.
I could still only see red – I heaved the coffee table over, scattering countless pokédollar bills from the base's copy of Monopoly: Kanto Edition across the room. Now that son of a bitch Mike would never get to build a goddamn hotel on Saffron City!
"That's what you get for betraying the team!" I shouted, advancing on him. "Do it, Zubat! The thing!"
Zubat chittered anxiously, but it did as it was told and did the thing. It opened its mouth and screamed near-silently at Mike, who clapped his hands to his ears and groaned as the thing inflicted Confusion on him.
"Ha! Fifty-five percent of the time, it works a hundred percent of the time!"
"Willem! I swear I didn't do nothing!" stammered Mike, as he turned and ran head-first into the break room wall, taking recoil damage as he did.
The door to the garage flew open, the rest of the crew spilling into the break room, duffel bags hanging from their shoulders.
"The hell is going on here, Willem?" demanded Benny.
"Mike let the fucking cops follow us!" I yelled. "He's a filthy Rattata!"
Benny's Rattata emerged from its ball, squeaking a battle-cry.
"Not you, Rattata!"
"It's not my fault! I'd never Rattata any of you out!" pleaded Mike, gesturing with his palms up, tearfully reasoning with the potted plant in the corner.
Benny opened his mouth to speak, but then the sound of sirens cut off any further dialogue. A megaphone-boosted voice from outside sounded off, demanding that we "come out, with your hands on your heads!"
I glanced through the blinds on the door. Cops, cop cars, cop 'mon. Why always dogs? Arcanine, Stoutland, even a Bolthund who'd get at our ankles if we tried to run. The Arcanine casually approached the building, opened its mouth, and promptly began to spew thick, black smoke into the garage, to flush us out!
Mike looked for an exit. Benny and the rest of the crew followed his lead.
"There's no way," I muttered, staring at my fists. "There's no way we get outta this. If that ten-year-old kid could thrash our sorry butts, there's no way we can take on the cops."
"Makes you wonder why the cops didn't clean our clocks ages ago," mused Benny.
"Shut up and think of something!" I snapped.
The black smoke began to fill the break room, followed shortly by my poor lungs. I started coughing and wheezing.
Benny's Koffing emerged from its ball, followed shortly by his Weezing.
"Not you guys!" I cried.
"Wait, hang on – Koffing, Weezing, suck up all the Smokescreen!" ordered Benny. Genius!
In moments, the gasbags had cleared the air. But still...
"We still need a way to get past the cops," I groaned.
The whole crew looked dumbfounded. Benny the 'genius' was out of ideas, and beginning to sweat. Mike, stumbling towards us with his arms outstretched, was the one to break the tension.
"I swear I didn't mean to let 'em tail us," he insisted, hoarsely, "but I'll make up for messing up. I'll distract them. You guys run out the garage when I have their attention."
I stared, slack-jawed, as Mike sprinted for the window, jumped, and crashed straight through it onto the ground outside.
"I'm okay!" he shouted, drunkenly, before booking it, arms whirling, away from the base's garage. The dumbass kept dropping poké balls as he went – releasing Tyranitar, Snorlax, Houndoom, Vileplume, and a pair of Weavile.
"Damn," said Benny. "Did you guys know Mike was any good at training pokémon?"
"He didn't train those, they're all stolen! That's our entire fucking schtick, dumbass!"
"Oh. Yeah, that makes more sense."
"Come on, morons!" I shouted, leading the way out, the crew in tow. "Let's scarper!"
Somehow, the crew and I made it past all the cops while they were distracted with Mike's badass pokémon that weren't his but were battling for him anyway for some fucking reason. The regular citizens on the streets blandly assumed we were late to a con in full cosplay, and we didn't find any more trouble. Eventually, we got to the nearest safehouse, half-delirious from legging it on the double the whole way.
"We need a new plan," I muttered. "The base is useless to us now, and the bosses will tan our hides for messing up this bad."
"Nah. It's okay," replied Benny, as if this were obvious. "We'll just lay low for a bit and reform our Organisation in a few years' time. Doesn't really matter what happens in the meantime. There's an endless supply of guys willing to work for a criminal organisation with cheap uniforms. That's just how things are in this country."
"You're serious?" said Rocket Grunt Gemma, speaking up at last. "Why bother? What if we just went split the money and went our separate ways? Quit our lives of crime while we're ahead? Enjoy our ill-gotten gains instead of chasing the same impossible goals forever in the name of self-defeating greed?"
I, Benny, and everyone else turned to face her, all wearing the same look of shock and confusion.
"No," I said, firmly. "We're Team Rocket. We keep trying the same thing time after time in theblind hope that eventually it won't go horribly wrong. This way, eventually we'll get lucky and achieve world domination and we'll be able to say we had a winning strategy from the very beginning. Obviously."
"Well said!" cheered Benny. "Three cheers for Boss Willem! Here's to Team Rocket... 2!"
unrepentantAuthor