WARNING: Swear words. T rated fic. 'Kay?
Hell
"Damn. Of all the days for me to be off. Crap, crap, crap. I'm having a horrible day! Get caught by Team Dim Sun, escape from Team Dim Sun, get screwed over by the Charizard of angry death," Kate muttered, shaking her head. Her loose hair smacked against her cheeks as she once again tried to work out how to make the styler recharge machine work. She gave it a good hard bonk with her fist, swore again, and went back to the careless shoving and jostling of her styler, hoping it would somehow click. She popped up from behind, calling to Keith, her look out, and asked him if he knew how to make it work.
"No! I don't know how to make the thing work!" he snapped. "You said you knew!"
"I lied," she said lightly. "Dally does it and considering she was a half wit I figured someone like me would be able to figure this shit out! I graduated top of the ranger class, Keith." She draped herself across the abandoned counter, eyes wide with rage. "I have more awards than anyone ever thought possible. I've stopped legendary beings. The one day, the single day I get my styler taken in for updates to make it quicker and junk and have to use a barely average replacement this happens. Fu-"
"Hey, no swearing," he muttered. "We talked about this, honeybunch."
"You said you wouldn't call me honeybunch," she gasped, kneeling with her back straight, hands slamming down on the counter.
"And on the first day we met you said you didn't talk a lot. Turns out I'm sweet when I'm nervous and you're as talkative as a broken record!" He stomped his foot and looked around. "Ugh, and these things are last generation to top it all off. We can't even contact Rythmi to get her to teach us how to do this. Wasn't there some kind of lecture telling us how to do this? You always pay attention. Why didn't you pay attention?"
She glared. "You were feeling up my thigh."
"You were tempting!" He gave a nervous laugh, then gulped at the sound of Team Dim Sun agents behind the door. The weren't approaching, thankfully, but setting up some kind of celebration. Something about the second uprising of Team Dim Sun…little did they know that Team Dim Sun was about to have their base crumple around them. "Alright, do you think we could make it out of here on the energy alone."
"Brilliant," she said sarcastically. "I didn't think of it. Of course we can make it out with four energy each with a styler that can't even power up. Damned idiot."
He groaned. "No need to swear, Kate. Do you think we could round up some kind of electric type to give up a charge?"
"There's no-"
"No, uh, I mean…" Keith shifted nervously. "There's some shinx we could power jack."
"Power jacking is illegal, Keith," Kate spat. "There are pokémon that are used for certain purposes, that should only be used for certain purposes, and other purposes could hurt the pokémon or, more likely, the ranger. We cannot use an electric type to power up our stylers if it isn't the approved Field Move. We can't."
"Well, it's that or death!"
"Son of a bitch," she muttered.
He began to go into a strange, thrashing rage the likes of which she had only seen in pokémon battles when magikarp ran out of splash attacks, all the while screaming about how she shouldn't swear and it was all her fault they were in this mess and things like that. It was then that the sounds of the party above stopped, and Team Dim Sun reached for the doorknob, all beginning to panic when the door was discovered to be blocked.
At the cries of "Rangers!" Kate muttered, "We're in for hell, aren't we?"
"Heck, Kate. We're in for heck."
She snorted and gracefully leapt over the counter, looking for a shinx to corner and power jack, tapping him on the head with a carefree answer of, "Keith, darling, if we're going to hell I'm going to at least use the proper term."
