DISCLAIMER: I do not own Pokemon, Guzma, or Lusamine. They are property of Nintendo. I do, however, own some of the characters.
This fanfic is rated T for profanity and mild suggestive themes. Not suitable for those under 13.
This fanfic takes place sometime before the games Pokemon Sun and Moon. It features Lusamine and Guzma in a nice, intimate moment on a cruise.
THE ESTATE OF NIBIRU-MUL PRESENTS
CRUISE TO LOSE
CHAPTER 1: WELCOME ABOARD
Some enchanted evening in bloody old Southampton, Guzma and Lusamine were on vacation. Lusamine had ordered two first-class tickets on the Empress of the Seven Seas, a luxury cruise liner that traveled the seven seas. Lusamine was happy to get away from the for ten days. She was glad to invite Guzma, the boss of Team Skull, and to not invite her children Gladion and Lillie.
Guzma and Lusamine boarded the ship. Lusamine was dressed in her exquisite bon chic Beartic fur coat, which kept her warm from the cold. Guzma wore his regular outfit, complete with bling bling. He looked goofy as he accompanied his mistress. The ship was full of pretentious British aristocrats with ridiculous posh first names and hyphenated surnames.
Guzma burped loudly.
"Blimey!" said one of the passengers.
"What a rude, impertinent lout," said another passenger.
"Don't worry about a thing," giggled Lusamine. "He's just having lots of fun."
Guzma and Lusamine got settled in their suite - a luxurious first-class suite with king-size beds with lavender sheets and pillows. The walls were red velveteen, and the furniture was brown oak. Guzma plopped himself on the bed, looking evilly. He knew he wanted to cause lots of trouble.
Lusamine looked at the brochure.
"So, doll," she said, "there will be lots of things to do on this shindig. We'll have fine dining and breathing, elegant ballroom dancing, and tea with crumpets. Doesn't that sound most splendid, Guzma?"
"Yeah, baby!" said Guzma.
Lusamine patted Guzma on the head and stroked his white hair.
"My Guzzy-Wuzzy will only get the best," said Lusamine. "It's because he is a special young man."
Guzma purred as Lusamine stroked his hair.
"So, ma'am," said Guzma, "what's on the agenda for tonight?"
"Well..." said Lusamine, "first we are going to go to the theater, where they will be showing one of those pretentious French films that only exist to win Oscars."
"Is it about the Holocaust?" asked Guzma. "Holocaust movies always win Oscars. Everybody knows that."
"No...not tonight," said Lusamine. "We're going to be leaving in about an hour."
"I say we crank dat, bitch!" said Guzma.
Guzma and Lusamine went to the ship's theater to see the movie - a fancy-shmancy French film full of nothing but pretension and drama. Guzma was getting bored sitting through it, so he decided to get some popcorn. He chewed loudly (and with his mouth open) while looking up at the screen. He then put his feet up against the seat.
A posh-looking elderly British woman turned around and looked at the huge feet behind her.
"Excuse me, you prole!" she said. "Move your disgusting feet out of my face!"
"Nope," said Guzma.
"It's a free country," said Lusamine. "Guzma can put his feet where he wants."
"I BEG YOUR PARDON!" said the old British woman.
Guzma drank from his big ol' cup of Coca-Cola and burped in the old British woman's face.
"YOU DISGUSTING, INSIGNIFICANT PROLE!" she yelled.
Guzma lifted his middle finger at the woman. Lusamine followed suit.
"Yo, this bitch is wack," said Guzma.
"She does not understand sophisticated people like ourselves," said Lusamine.
"Sophisticated?" said the old British woman. "I"LL SHOW YOU SOPHISTICATED!"
The woman raised her walking-stick and started to beat Guzma and Lusamine.
Guzma and Lusamine left the theater.
"Don't worry, Guzma," said Lusamine. "There will be plenty of other stuff to do."
"And plenty of other people to make miserable?" asked Guzma.
"Of course, Guzzy," said Lusamine.