The restaurant owner stared at the scene in utter disbelief. It was a battlefield. Tables overturned, plates smashed, cutlery strewn across the floor. Not a crumb was left. She could feel the tears coming.
Filled with rage, she turned to the one customer who hadn't fled: a young trainer whose gaze was fixed on his feet. Despite having pulled down the brim of his cap, he couldn't hide that his face had turned a bright shade of crimson.
The restaurant owner closed her eyes and counted to ten, but didn't feel any better when she opened them. She took a deep breath and yelled, "Can't you keep your Pokémon under control?!"
"Sorry."
Lickitung was picking its way through the rubble, tipping over abandoned kitchenware in the off chance that it had missed anything remotely edible. There was nothing. Trembling slightly, the trainer removed a Pokéball from his belt and recalled the creature. Too little, too late. He smiled stupidly. "Would a lifetime membership in the Pokémon Fan Club make up for this?"
Seeing the restaurant owner's eye twitch, the trainer decided that it was time to leave. Those new running shoes proved incredibly useful when dodging flying pots and pans.
THE END