Giovanni had risen and fallen, and risen and fallen, time after time over the years. One would think that a supposed organization of criminals would be able to topple a simple kid, but one would be wrong. Very, very, frustratingly wrong. The thought of all of his failures brought bile to Giovanni's stomach and a headache that wouldn't quit. He swallowed his rage with a sip of whiskey, thinking over the children that toppled him.
Red was first, in Kanto. He was a strange kid, and he never spoke a word, unless it was in battle, and even then Giovanni hardly heard him. Something was definitely wrong with that child, especially since he seemed to go off the deep end, not long after. A few months following his triumph over Team Rocket, as well as the Elite Four and champion, he fled without a word. Didn't tell anyone where he was going, not even Blue.
Then, three years after that defeat, the remaining Rockets thought they'd have a shot at getting Giovanni back.
Fat chance - they were taken down by Gold. Now, the four former Rocket executives were dead. Execution style, Giovanni killed them, and he harbored no regrets. Dead, done, Persian's dinner.
Since then, he had done quite a bit of remodeling of his precious Team Rocket. The weak were weeded out - and that meant Proton, Petrel, Ariana, and Archer. Pokémon teams would be more inclusive - no more teams full of zubat or ekans. The training process would be much more rigorous, and would, hopefully, produce better trainers. If those trainers failed to meet regulations, well... They'd end up staring down the barrel of a .45 - and for good reason! Giovanni had a world to conquer, he couldn't have such trash littering his reputation!
A small, cruel smile found its way onto his face. He had successfully tempered Team Rocket like steel. No longer were they a bunch of morons that did as they pleased. Finally, he had a hardened gang of criminals and pokémon to rule over.
That tempering payed off, and it showed.
A knock sounded at the door of his office, jolting Giovanni out of his reverie.
"Come in."
The door opened, and in came a small group of Rockets - with them, captives. Giovanni stood from his chair, making his way to the front of his desk. He took a liberal sip of whiskey, ice clinking in the glass. This was it, the day he had been fighting for.
"Don't be afraid to be a little rough, boys." Giovanni said, all smiles.
The executives - Zeph and Quinn - threw their captives down on the floor roughly. Blue and Lance lay on his office floor, staining it with the blood they coughed up. They were nothing, now. The regions they led had fallen under Giovanni's control. Two successful coup d'etats under his belt, he sat at the head of Kanto and Johto a dictator. While the gym leaders and Elite Four were either murdered or imprisoned, they had fled like cowards.
"Finally found you." he gloated, voice brimming with cruel glee, "Guess Champions aren't all they're cracked up to be, huh? Cowards."
With the last word he ground the heel of his dress shoe into Lance's face. He groaned in pain - a tired sort of groan, the one that tells you how long they'd been running.
"You're disgusting." Lance snarled.
"I'm disgusting? You're the one that ran away, Lance. You're the one that fled the country while your League friends were getting executed." the Rocket leader retorted, keeping his cool. He won. "You should have heard Claire begging me to spare her, to spare you. When it comes down to it, you aren't the bastions of hope and courage you thought yourselves to be, are you? I never lied, Lance. I never put up a front."
It seemed like Giovanni had this all rehearsed, and indeed he had. He dreamt about saying that for years and years.
"They'll rebel, you know." Blue said, fiercely. "You can't rule the scum of the Earth and suspect everyone will follow suit."
"Watch me."
"Fuck you." snarled the Elite, earning a swift kick in the jaw.
Giovanni had to really fight to dam the rage that threatened to burst - in the form of a violent beating to both of them. No, what was coming next would be better.
He did, however, remove his magnum from it's hiding place inside his suit coat. The fallen Elites' eyes widened in fear and realization. The Rocket executives tensed.
"I'm going to really enjoy this."
Giovanni cocked the gun, finger tensing on the trigger. Two explosions sounded, and afterward, laughter. Hysterical laughter.
"I did, I won," the Rocket laughed, "I won, I won."
Review, please? Constructive criticism much appreciated - but be nice, my frail ego can't take much.