The Nimbasa City Gym Leader pushed Nate back against the wall of her stage. "I know you know who took it," her voice echoed in the empty room, lights flashing every which way. Her face was stern and crisp and Nate could clearly see the creases in her forehead through her make up.
"I-I don't!" Nate stuttered nervously, biting down on his lip. What in the h-e-double hockey sticks was she talking about?
"Emolga's PokeBall isn't in here, do you UNDERSTAND ME?! When you left here and beat me, Emolga's PokeBall WAS GONE!"
"Just cuz I beat you at battling doesn't mean you need to get infuri- YOU'RE ACTING LIKE WHITNEY FROM GOLDENROD! Go suck a Clefairy's armpit, you loser!"
"You're gay, aren't you?" Elesa smirked. "You're queer and homo and this I know!"
"B-But.. I'm not, idiot!" Nate squirmed beneath Elesa's grasp.
Quickly and aggressively, the model shoved her hand in Nate's trousahs, squeezing his weinah. Elesa shouted at him and pulled her hand out, feeling very taken aback by this whole situation. Her hand.. was BLEEDING..
"Hi Durant," Nate looked down and smiled innocently, knowing his lil insect Pokemon would come in handy one day. It was so cute and he just hatched it in Route 5 or something like that. Eh. It flopped out of his pants and onto the floor, nipping at Nate's feet.
Elesa's eyes were wide with shock as she stared down at her hand as if it were possessed, like the one from Idle Hands. That movie was retarded, but that's how she was looking at it. It was like her hand was Satan. "Wait a minute... Did I touch your or YOUR POKEMON'S P-P-PEEPEE?!" She clenched her fists and strolled off with angry anime steam coming out of her hair.
Nate dug into his pockets and held his new Emolga PokeBall, smiling at himself. Elesa's Emolga.
"Durant, I think I'm Team Plasma, no offense."