The professors wake up one day without any recollection of last night. Giovanni believes that something much more sinister is at work, but Ghetsis thinks otherwise.
Inspired by Last Night Gus (S6e2) from Psych. Contains mild adult humor.
Ghetsis wakes up feeling like he's breakdancing on a capsizing ship. Or as N would put it, he feels like sugar honey ice tea.
His head throbs like someone is stuffing cotton into his eardrums. When he attempts to lift his neck, his joints crackle loudly like a shattering egg shell. There is a weird, unidentifiable taste on his tongue.
"What the heck?" Even his voice comes as a slurred wheeze.
It is bright. Someone forget to turn off the stinking sun. With a hand over his crusty eyes and another on his head to keep his brain from falling out, Ghetsis takes a tentative step forward—
And his bare foot steps into something squishy and warm. Something alive.
"Giovanni?"
The old man on the floor stirs. Groaning like an unoiled door, he sits up, his veins straining against his sweaty forehead when his back gives a wicked pop.
"Sunovafudga…" What follows is a string of colorful cussing. "I'm too young to throw out my hip… What the hell are you wearing?"
When Ghetsis consults a mirror, he sees a shower cap on his head: a white satin bouffant cap emblazoned with the golden letters AP. Mysterious stains decorate his vest, some bordering on the definition of suspicious. One foot is bare while the other is tucked into a red woolen sock.
"Isn't that Maxie's sock?" says Giovanni. "And what's that white stuff all over your mouth?"
A powdery white substance cakes Ghetsis's chin. Looks like mold. For a moment there, his brain releases a loud and obnoxious fart.
"Taste it."
"I'm not putting random crap into my mouth."
Giovanni shoots him a dirty look. "You… you are clean right? You do know that I won't tolerate possession of illicit substances in my household—"
"I am a respectful fellow of academia, the picture of perfection! If anyone's involved in illegal affairs, it's you!"
Nevertheless, Ghetsis wipes a smidge of white stuff and gingery licks it.
"Well?" says Giovanni.
"I have no idea what this is." It's a familiar taste, one that excites his heartbeat with a single whiff. Yet the name of these white granules remains on the tip of his tongue. Ghetsis just hopes that it's not what Giovanni wants it to be.
Hoping to load off this unwanted attention, Ghetsis flicks a finger to his colleague. "Why are you wearing a gold chain?"
Giovanni glances down at the gaudy jewelry hanging around his neck. "I don't wear fake gold."
"Why are you wearing Archie's sandals?"
"I… don't know."
"And why do you have a black eye?"
Giovanni gingerly pokes his shiner. "It's fresh."
"You're disgusting."
"I'm thirsty is what I am. Lettuce, pop open a bottle of Lambrusco for me."
And when Giovanni turns around, he freezes. Curious as to why the old man suddenly malfunctioned, Ghetsis also heads to the living room.
The room is a complete mess, as if a twister had torn through the place. Sodden clothes, to-go boxes, and melted ice cream on the cluttered floor. A sofa has been overturned. Generous amounts of toilet paper wrap around the TV like a poorly decorated fir tree.
The sight of his mansion in disarray is enough to slap Giovanni out of his stupor. He grabs his head. The color drains from his face as a startling realization strikes his groggy brain.
"I can't remember anything from last night," he whispers.
"Don't be silly. Last night you were… I was… A-Archie was…"
Oh sugar honey ice tea. When Ghetsis tries to recall yesterday's events, his mind a complete blank.
"We were drugged!" Giovanni hisses.
"You're jumping to conclusions. I'm 6'6'' tall, so I'll know if I was drugged."
"Then how do you explain this mess? How do you explain the fact that neither of us can remember anything?!"
Ghetsis shrugs. "I am sure there is a plausible explanation behind every phenomenon in this world."
"Such as how I got this black eye and how you have white stuff all around your mouth?"
"Precisely."
The crisp forest air delivers a second wallop of hangover to Ghetsis's headache. It is a beautiful day today, complete with cloudless blue skies. Perfect weather to launch an investigation after reeling from the consequences of poor life choices.
Giovanni groans when sunlight hits his bruised eye. He gropes for his pockets and finds a pair of funky orange shades.
"Aren't those Lysandre's?" Ghetsis says.
Shrugging, Giovanni slides those shades over his shiner. "So. What are we looking for?"
"I don't know. But we'll know it when we see it."
On their way to the beach, Giovanni's pocket vibrates. He flips open his phone, saying nothing as he scrolls down his call log. That silence is suspicious enough to attract a nosy Ghetsis to sneak a peek.
"Ariana's calling," Giovanni says calmly.
"Then answer."
"She called me 49 times last night."
"And?"
"I called her 50 times."
"Oh."
"I also called Silver 51 times. He only picked up twice."
"Oh. Well. This is awkward."
Giovanni nonchalantly closes his phone. Then he launches it into the sky. Afterwards he simply readjusts his shades, although Ghetsis notices that his neck has flushed a scarlet red.
When no one speaks for the longest time, Ghetsis pulls out his own phone. "H-Hopefully there's something in here that can shed light on this situation… Ah-hah! I took pictures!"
One picture shows Giovanni in his muscle shirt, flexing his tattooed biceps in front of the mirror. Another shows him and Ghetsis with cucumber masks eating whipped cream on their knees. One shows Archie licking a doorknob while Maxie cheers in the background with a tie wrapped around his head.
"Huh," is all Ghetsis has to say.
"We were drugged!"
"No, we weren't!"
"It's the most plausible explanation!"
"Well, plausible is different from probable! Let's just calm down. What do we know?"
"Nothing."
"You're right."
The two men need not walk far to find what they might be searching for. Near the shores of the beach is a waterlogged mattress, and on said mattress lie two crusty, unconscious men.
Giovanni groans. "This whole situation is starting to stink like a rat in the ranks." He nudges Archie's armpit with the tip of his loafer. "Hey! Wake up! You can spoon each other in your own rooms!"
Archie snorts. Maxie twitches from under him, but none of them show any intention of waking up.
Ghetsis clears his throat and bellows, "FIRE!"
"FIRE!" Maxie screams.
Archie's eyelids flutter. "Baking soda! Don't use water!"
With a primal screech, Maxie shoves Archie off him. He leaps to his feet, chest heaving, bloodshot eyeballs bulging out of their sockets.
"There's a damn fire in my head," Maxie growls. "Why is the world shaking like a long overdue continental drift? Where is my gel? Why are you wearing Lysandre's atrocious shades?!"
Giovanni slowly tips those shades down so he can squint at Maxie. "What rabid Pokemon bit you and died?"
"Where are your glasses?" says Ghetsis.
Maxie gasps. "Ghetsis! What is that white stuff all over your mouth? Fufufu, I had no idea you were the type to live on the edge! You wild!"
A groggy Archie finally joins the group. "Nice necklace," he slurs to Giovanni. "Not as nice as my anchor pendant though."
"What's wrong with your friend?" says Ghetsis.
"Where are your pants?" says Giovanni.
Heads turn to Archie, who looks down at his Kyogre-print boxers.
"Huh," he says. "Why am I wearing Cyrus's socks?"
A snickering Maxie playfully kicks his best friend's hairy legs. "No one wants to see your crusty calves." He then fishes a crumpled scroll from his pocket. "Hmm? Apparently we purchased quite a lot of ice cream last night…"
"Looks like Lysandre paid it with his credit card."
"You can see without your glasses?" Giovanni grunts.
Maxie sneers. "What, surprised I'm not as blind as everyone thought, Gio? Oh, speaking of which, may I borrow someone's lighter? I can use a smoke."
Giovanni's mouth falls open. He then glances at Ghetsis, who looks equally as astonished.
The only unsurprised one is Archie, who merely scratches the back of his neck. "Maxie, we really need to find your glasses."
"Humph. If it wasn't for my debt to her, I would've burned these tacky things a long time ago." Maxie then places a hand on his hip. "So. What graves have we dug ourselves into now?"
Ghetsis struggles to find his voice. "Anyone remember what happened last night?"
To that, Archie and Maxie exchange a very puzzled look.
"We got drugged," says Giovanni.
"No, we didn't!" snaps Ghetsis.
"Copious amounts of alcohol were involved. You probably sniffed something you shouldn't have, and Archie's not wearing pants!"
"Can you please stop yelling?" Archie groans. "My head hurts."
Maxie warmly pats his best friend's shoulder. "We should start by finding the others… after you put on some pants."
After everyone shaves and freshens up, the four professors wobble into the blinding sunlight of the Alolan sky.
"I can't believe someone socked you," says a snickering Maxie.
Giovanni shoves Lysandre's shades up his nose. "Shut up."
"I think I'm supposed to be teaching today," Archie mumbles.
Ghetsis shrugs. "Honestly, those brats should be the least of your concerns now. I also have lecture, but I'm calling a day off today."
"Um… I don't think professors are supposed to ditch their classes."
"Eh, the students leave by themselves if I don't show up for the first 15 minutes. I'll just assign textbook chapters on stuff we haven't covered yet."
The men walk a bit further.
"I suppose the best thing to do now is to retrace our steps," says Maxie, fishing out his lengthy receipt. "We should stop by that ice cream store you took us to some chapters ago."
"Ice cream store?" Then Ghetsis groans. "You mean Lenora's? Why there?"
"Because this receipt came from her place. The timestamp is around seven yesterday evening."
Giovanni gleefully rubs his hands. "Great. Hopefully Lenora can shed some light into this situation."
It's a twenty-minute walk from the beach to Clay's Classic Chips. The streets are empty (thankfully) because most students have class by noon. No one pays much attention to the four bosses as they enter the store like a gang of yakuza.
Lenora's voice floats out of the back at the sound of the tinkling bell. "Sorry folks, we're clossssssssss…" The rest of that drags into the hissing of an agitated snake. When she sees her company, her eyes roll all the way back to her head.
"You again!" she barks.
"What does she mean again?" Archie mutters.
"Don't look at me like I'm crazy! Get out here or I'll knock your skulls together!"
Giovanni steps up. "Signora Lenora, I—"
"Take those infernal things off or I'll break them! You still owe me for all the damages your drunkass associates caused yesterday!" Lenora jabs a scooping spoon at a bewildered Ghetsis. "Especially you. You licked all the powdered sugar off my ice cream like some weird sicko."
Archie holds up his hands in a disarming manner. "Lenora, we're very sorry for everything. But we can't remember anything from last night—"
"ZVARRI!"
Everyone jumps at Ghetsis's bold proclamation.
"You remembered something?" Maxie gasps.
"This is powdered sugar!" Ghetsis roars with sheer happiness. "That white stuff was sugar! Myahahaha! See, old man, I told you I was clean! I'M CLEAN!"
"What's wrong with him now?" Lenora says.
Giovanni waves a dismissive hand. "Lenora, we have reason to believe we were drugged last night—"
"Stop telling people that!"
"—hence, we cannot ascertain that what you claimed happened last night had in fact happened. What we do know is that Lysandre paid for an obscene amount of ice cream here at around seven o'clock. Were we with him?"
"Yeeeeeep," Lenora says slowly. "And y'all dunderheads trashed Clay's store."
"Again, we deeply apologize." As Giovanni lays out his sweet consoles, Ghetsis notices that he has his fingers crossed behind his back. "And I promise Ghetsis will pay it all off. Can you tell us more on what transpired yesterday?"
A lot of things are weighing on Lenora's mind. A lot of words sit ready on her tongue, ready for ejection. Instead she crosses her arms, her morbid curiosity winning over.
"Well, y'all came from that direction, where the big hotel is. You were all pretty buzzed when you got here, so I reckoned y'all just left from a big business party."
"A hotel?" says Maxie.
"Mmhmm. That fancy penthouse down yonder. Never had any business to step in there myself. I dislike pretentious folks."
Ghetsis claps his hands a bit too loudly. "Okay! So being that I am a renowned and prestigious professor, I was invited to a business party with the rest of you. Let's go to that hotel and confirm our alibis!"
"Ghegg."
"My name is not Ghegg!"
Lenora smirks. "Whatever. Clay's visiting soon. After your little investigation, come back and tell us all about what last night Ghetsis did, yeah?"
The hotel Lenora mentions cannot be simply called a hotel. An estate is more like it. A plot of lush land with graceful white buildings gleaming in the sun like monoliths. On the tallest skyscraper is a golden emblem which resembles a lit torch.
"Aether Paradise," Maxie whistles, gesturing to a gold-plated plaque. "Says here that this property spans about 530,000 square meters, or 130 acres according to the imperial system used in Alola. About 67% of Alolan's wildlife can be found within the conservation area."
Ghetsis pulls out the shower cap from his pocket. AP. Aether Paradise. No doubt about it; they were indeed here last night.
Archie clears his throat. "Says here it's private property—"
"And?" scoffs Giovanni. "Nevermind the rules when you have money. Follow me, gentlemen."
Maxie eagerly follows while Ghetsis and Archie trail behind. The inside of the Aether penthouse is more ballroom than reception area. A single chandelier costs more than everything in Giovanni's mansion combined. This place is indeed the epitome of luxury. Ghetsis has the morbid urge to drag his heels across the floor just to see what will happen but instantly discards that thought.
"Everyone is glaring at us," whispers Archie.
"We're not putting on a damn show!" Maxie barks to the gawking employees, who grudgingly disperses.
Behind the reception area is a tall, spineless man with shifty eyes and a nervous grin. All it takes is one glance at his potential clients for him to break into cold sweat.
"Y-You again!" he squeaks.
Giovanni smacks his crusty palm down on the spotless countertop. "Listen…" He pushes his shades down ever so slightly so he sees the gaudy nametag. "Faba. You will explain what you meant by that improper exclamation."
"I-I told you last night that we completely ran out of gelato! Yeeesh, I know that we're not supposed to deny a guest on even the most ridiculous request, but your demands were just reeeeeedeekulous!"
"Why are you crying again, Faba?"
That new voice belongs to a woman with long, golden hair, shapely legs, and designer heels. Her green eyes narrow immediately at her audience.
"M-Madame President!" Faba cries. "T-They came back!"
"I do have eyes, Faba."
"Y-Yes, Ma'am! They're quite lovely too—"
"Goodbye, Faba."
"Urk… Y-Yes, Ma'am…"
After a dejected Faba waddles away, the woman turns her attention back to the gawking professors.
"Well?" she huffs. "Did you come back for another shiner to complete your appalling complexion?"
Giovanni's shades slide off on their own. "S-So it was you?!"
"Surprised that a woman would dare hit you? What did you expect, saying such crude things about a lady's age?" She casts a dismissive glance at her pedicured nails. "'You don't look like a 40-year old hag. I've seen younger women much older than you.' Sweetie, did your mother not teach you manners? Shame that not all men are like Mohn…"
The other professor snicker. Giovanni angrily steps on all their toes, his neck a bright red sheen.
"Anyhow," she continues with a smug giggle to her hand. "Your friend is still passed out in Room 103. The one that looks like a tree that's set on fire. We couldn't throw him out because he is too heavy."
"Lysandre!" Archie gasps.
The woman tosses a column of hair over her slender shoulders. "So. Since we can't bill an unconscious patron…"
The bill is passed around until it reaches Giovanni, who glares at his colleagues.
"She's not mad at me," says Maxie.
Everyone stares expectantly at the oldest man, who slowly, painfully extracts a wad of cash from his sock. The woman simply waits with a tapping heel.
"…ory," Giovanni grunts.
She sighs, clearly unimpressed. "I pity the woman who married you. If it was me, I'd take my children and leave you to your machinations.
"Anyhow, I am Lusamine, the director of Aether Paradise. I also hold a teaching position at Rainbow Rocket University, located not far from here. Incidentally, I am head of the Ecological Management and Restoration Department, yet I teach a wide variety of classes related to animal science—"
"You're a professor too?" Archie blurts.
Lusamine pales. "You mean… No! Surely you jest! I simply cannot envision you four as faculty in the most prestigious institution for higher education! Not with your distasteful fashion sense and your poor life choices! Look at your hair! You in the blue especially! It is not Halloween, and yet you are dressed like a pirate!"
Archie is too overwhelmed to reply. Instead he just shrugs.
Ultimately, Lusamine shakes her head. "Well, I suppose anything is possible in this world of Ultra Beasts. Here." In her moisturized hand is a pair of tacky glasses. "One of you tossed this toy out the window last night. I'll see you around on campus then, ohohoh… Alola!"
After Lusamine leaves, the men sprint to the elevator, mash the 100th floor, and hold their breaths until the doors finally close.
Tinny elevator music wafts from the golden speakers. The glass elevator hugs the exterior of the penthouse so the men can view the entire property on their way to the top.
"Can this day get any worse?" Giovanni grumbles, suddenly looking like his age for once: haggard, exhausted, and fed up with life.
"Knowing us, it will," says Ghetsis.
Maxie is silent, staring pensively at his reflection in his glasses. His knotted eyebrows cast deep shadows down his already darkened eyes.
"What would she say if she sees me in this situation, Archie?" He utters a mirthless laugh. "What am I saying? If she sees me? She won't even recognize me at this point…"
"Maxie?" Giovanni whispers. "Are you… still drunk?"
"Maxie," Archie says sternly.
"Fine, fine. I know you all want your Maxie back."
Maxie runs a hand through his red hair, untangling the gelled strands which he later sweeps to the side of his forehead. Turning away, he releases a faint sigh before putting those glasses back where they belong: on his face.
The hotel room lies in shambles.
A trail of muddy ice cream wounds around each item of furniture, as if marking a treasure map. The TV has been punched. A breeze sneaks in from the hole in the window, and if the men lean over the glass, they can see a mattress dangling on top of the water fountain 100 floors below.
Archie runs to the upturned sofa. "I found my pants!"
Beside the deluxe king mattress that has been shredded to fibers, a pair of long legs stick out from under the bed. Maxie and Archie pull out an unconscious red haystack—
Nevermind. That's just Lysandre.
"Augustine, turn off the sun," he moans. "S'il vous plait… too bright…"
Giovanni rips the curtains off. "GET UP!" he barks.
Lysandre leaps up like a lion whose tail has just been ran over by a truck. "What is your problem?!" he snaps. "Can't you understand basic—Aren't those my shades?"
"No. Get up."
"What is that ugly thing around your neck? You don't strike me as the type to tolerate false gold on your body."
"Have you looked at yourself lately?"
"Oh Giovanni, I check the mirror at least ten times a dayayayay…" Lysandre blanches when he sees his reflection. "ACK! Don't look at me!"
"We're all crusty," Ghetsis says curtly. "Listen, Sunflower, what do you remember from last night? It's very important."
"Last night? My head aches like a broken heart, Monsieur Lettuce." Regardless, Lysandre rubs his overgrown beard thoughtfully. "Hmm… well, Maxie threw a mattress out the window. You and Archie were ingesting whipped cream like you're inhaling wine… and I think Giovanni was crying into his phone."
Astonishingly enough, no one is surprised. It's been a looooong day.
Giovanni clears his throat a bit too loudly. "So! This is indeed the scene of the crime! Quite a lot of alcohol was consumed last night. Petty mayhem was caused, the damage all paid for. Case closed."
"Why are you using passive voice like you had nothing to do with it?" Maxie huffs. "Besides, look around carefully. I don't see any wine bottles."
"Maxie's right," says Lysandre as he searches for his wallet. "I remembered—very hazily—that we came from someplace else before arriving at Aether Paradise… eh? What is this white stuff all over my credit card?"
"Somewhere else?" Giovanni moans. "You mean we were drugged somewhere else? Oh Dio mio I am getting too old for this nonsense."
"We were not drugged!" Ghetsis snaps for the final time.
The sun is setting when the haggard professors finally stumble out of Aether Paradise. Like driftwood they drift through town before finally reaching the familiar shores of the beach. Along the way, Ghetsis can't shake the feeling that he had forgotten something… someone very important.
"Yo, Cy's homies!"
Oh yeah. Cyrus. He's not here, isn't he?
A shabbily-dressed thug comes ambling up to the five hungover men. Bleached white hair. Skull tattoos on his arms. A lot of unnecessary and fake jewelry.
"Woah!" he says to Giovanni. "I've been looking all over for my neck chain! Thanks, man!"
Maxie removes his glasses. Cleans them. Put them back on and says, "Who are you?"
"You're kidding. It's me, Guzma, destruction in human form! We partied until we dropped last night!"
"Party?" Archie echoes.
"Uh-huh! We happened to run into each other, and Cy wanted me to get to know his pals. Y'all showed up to Po Town all apprehensive, but then everyone totally hit it off when the disco ball dropped!"
The professor trade blank looks with each other.
"We had pizza, spam masubi, Plume's haupia…" Guzma rattles off his fingers. "Oh, and I think a homie accidentally spiked the fruit punch. Who knew that Chianti, Vodka, and seltzer would blend so well with my Alolan cocktail? That shit was soooo addicting!
"Anyhow, thanks for coming to my crib! I'm still stoned from last night, so say hello to Cy for me! See you around campus, dudes! Alola!"
And with a deep, glutinous intake of air, Guzma staggers away.
"He has a baby crib?" Lysandre says. "Who was that again? Puma?"
"I have no idea," says Archie.
Giovanni joyfully steps on Ghetsis's toes. "See? I told you we were drugged!"
And Ghetsis sighs so loudly that his hair antennas wilt. "Yup. You're right. We were drugged."
Since their brains refuse to function any further, the professors float back to the mansion. When they open the door, immediately they notice that something is very, very different.
"It's so clean," Maxie mumbles. "Did we actually clean up after ourselves?"
"Of course not."
Cyrus stands beside the kitchen table, his arms crossed, his forehead scrunched like crumpled leather. You don't have to be sober to know that he's really, really pissed.
"Oh sugar honey ice tea," Ghetsis mumbles.
"Bonjour," Lysandre says weakly.
"Good evening," Cyrus says flatly. "Whose wonderful idea was it to clog the toilet with ice cream—Giovanni, why do you have a black eye?"
"Uh…"
"Actually, nevermind. I don't think I want to know."
"Where were you?" Maxie says.
"You don't remember? I introduced you to Guzma and Plumeria yesterday. While at the meeting, I told you that I had to leave promptly for Sinnoh to resolve some issues. Before I left, I warned you not to drink the punch—"
"Ooops."
And Cyrus squeezes his bruised temples. "I suppose that means you did. Now it makes sense why you all reek of sweat and alcohol. Need I remind you that you have classes to teach tomorrow? To think that all of you are my senior! How irresponsible can you be?!"
The older men hang their spinning heads in shame. "Sorry, sir."
Cyrus sighs through his mouth. "Forget it. Stay outside until one of you finishes showering. It took me five hours just to restore some semblance of dignity to this household, and I won't have you dirty it. Giovanni, I'll get something for your eye."
Then everyone is off to their own devices. Ghetsis watches as his colleagues stagger to the only bathroom in the mansion, some passing out on their way there. He cranes his neck to the kitchen, where Cyrus is brewing a cauldron of rice gruel for their hangover remedy.
You know what? Regardless of the crazy things that happened last night, there really is no place like home. Yup. Nothing beats blacking out with your buddies and having your severely overworked junior colleague scold you, a grownass adult, about your poor life choices.