"Congratulations, sir! You're the first man to challenge the newly instated ninth gym!" the suit-clad man in the front foyer said, quite excitedly.
"I gotta hand it to you, you guys built this gym fast," Sean replied, taking his Fresh Water, "We just got word about this gym a few hours ago. How did you do it?"
"Oh, Pokemon are pretty much our slaves," the man explained, "We just got some Machamps and some Conkeldurrs and said, 'Here's what the building will look like. Now, get to work you savages!' It was great."
Damien shot Sean a visibly irritated look. Sean pleaded with his eyes for him to not Leaf Blade the poor man.
"Heh, sounds like quite a strategy," Sean got out. "Certainly seems efficient."
"Well, enough blibber-blabber!" the man crowed jovially, "Let's do this thang! Blake sits upon his throne of steel-encrusted metal at the back of the gym. You must use the valve handles to match up the correct bridges to make it there and challenge him."
Sean peered over the first ledge with caution.
"And what awaits us if we fall off of one of these hastily-constructed bridges…?" he warily asked.
"Spikes!" the man answered gleefully.
Sean and Damien merely stared.
"…spikes?" Damien choked. "As in… death spikes?"
"Absolutely!" the man replied, "Blake had them custom-made for this gym. He mentioned something about 'totally sweet Fatalities' I think. I trusted his judgment."
"A sound decision," Damien replied with a slow nod. This man was probably insane.
"Well, good luck to the two of you!" the man said with a thumbs-up, "And remember, Steel-types don't do too well against Fighting-type moves."
"Or Fire-types!" Sean pointedly added.
"Shhhhhhh!" the man spat while dashing over to cover Sean's mouth. "That's a secret…!"
A strange silence fell as the man stood glaring at Sean, hand still clapped over his mouth. Damien couldn't contain himself.
"…and Ground-types!"
"SHUT UP!"