I'm going to try to write as often as I can for this story. The changing of POV's is really refreshing, and it lets scenarios and material come to me a lot easier. So let's see if I can keep a decent pace here.
Edit: Revisioned just a tiny detail, after reviewer Ultimate Black Ace confirmed my concerns on a little discrepancy. Reath and Ferma have replaced Folly and Trudly in this chapter, since they WERE on the other side of the map last chapter.
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Gonzap's blood pressure was dangerously high. A large fist-shaped hole in the wall of his rather disheveled office could prove that. And if he'd have his way, he'd make a few similar holes through the body of a particular scrawny, traitorous thief.
His grunts were running pell-mell around the now-decrepit hideout. Chunks of ceiling and shards of glass littered the floor- well, more than usual- and the acrid scent of gunpowder and burnt debris hung heavily in the halls. Smoke still rose from the building and contrasted sharply against the bright blue sky. They would have to make tracks if they wanted to avoid being found out. Even Pyrite's meager police force wasn't stupid enough to ignore a pillar of smoke rising up from the middle of the desert.
To think that he'd been double-crossed by that snot-nosed punk. He'd lit up the south side of the hideout with explosives and booked it. And to grind his face into a steaming pile of Tauros shit even further, the son of a bitch had nabbed the Snag Gauntlet before going AWOL as well. The grunt who'd given him that particular report was now out cold with a sizeable lump on his head.
Gonzap wasn't exactly the epitome of anger management. Everyone, including Biden and Wakin, had steered clear of their boss to avoid similar consequences.
His wrath was boiling over.
How dare that little punk! Who did he think he was?! That little shitstain had no idea who he was dealing with. Once Snagem found out where the scummy little Rattata was hiding, he'd deal with him personally and let his Skarmory feast on the bloody remains.
Overcome by his anger, he threw his fist through the wall again, the drywall crumpling pathetically under the force of his punch.
"Oh my, this is quite a mess, now isn't it?"
Temper flaring upwards even more, Gonzap whirled around, bristling and ready to strike. But he was not prepared for who had decided to disturb him.
"Who the hell are you?" He asked, his lip curled in disgust.
The man- was it a man?- tsk'd, strutting his way into the shellshocked office without invitation. He towered over Gonzap- not an easy feat- with a body reminiscent of a string bean, complete with a golden leisure suit, platform shoes, and topped off with a most ridiculous afro that really belonged back in some godforsaken decade and left to rot.
"Dearie me, that's quite rude," the man protested, swaying his hips to nonexistent music.
"And I really don't give a Raticate's ass," he replied in a louder volume, his temper returning after that brief shock. "Who… the hell… are you?"
The man tsk'd again, finally coming to a standstill and placing a hand on his hip.
"You might want to take it easy, Mr. Macho Man," Afro replied with a snap of his fingers and a lilt in his voice. "I'm with Cipher."
Gonzap swallowed his angry retort, glancing again over Afro with a look of barely-contained disgust.
"Really."
"Oh yes," the man smiled, beginning to sway again to some silent beat. "Forgive me, I am known as the fabulous Miror B."
Snagem's leader would have used a word other than 'fabulous'. But Miror B spun on the spot and continued.
"You've met my boys Folly and Trudly, but I don't believe you've had the pleasure of meeting my lovelies. Reath, Ferma, do come in and say hello!"
Distracted as he'd been by the flamboyant disco dancer, Gonzap had failed to notice the two female peons lurking by the doorway. The girl with the dyed-purple hair gave him a simpering smirk while the other girl hardly glanced up from her manicured nails. Gonzap didn't bother hiding his nasty grimace.
"Look, is there any good reason why yer here? 'Cuz I'm pretty busy with some shit that's come up and I'd appreciate it if ya hauled ass outta here."
"Oh yes. I can see that you have some renovation issues to deal with," Miror B said with an ostentatious smirk. "Unless you are going for looking like a trash heap, in which case you Snagem darlings are doing a fine job!"
Gonzap's face turned an ugly shade of maroon, his large fists clenching by his sides.
"But all questionable decisions in hideout design aside, I've come to lay down our conditions with that Snag Gauntlet we dropped off a few days back," Miror B continued pleasantly, still dancing to himself.
Shit.
Silence reigned, with the exception of the constant tapping of the man's platform shoes against the floor. It dragged for a painfully extended while before the man with the afro seemed to pick up on it.
"My, my, you went awfully quiet there, Mr. Man," he said, still in a pleasant air. "Have my dance moves left you starstruck?"
That unstuck his voice. He just managed to avoid snarling an insult, his anger simmering close to the surface.
"We don't have the Snag Machine anymore. Tell your people we need a new one."
A couple seconds of silence fell after he spoke. Ferma and Reath glanced at each other with identically-raised eyebrows. The Miror B laughed, high-pitched and falsetto. Gonzap was really starting to hate him.
"Oh dear, dear, dear. Either I misheard you, or you just told the most hilarious joke!"
The Snagem leader's face looked rather like he'd been force-fed a lemon.
"Some punk kid turned traitor and hit the hideout with explosives, and he took off with the Snag Machine. Until I can track him down and turn him into a smear on the wall, we need a new Snag Machine," he demanded, crossing his arms. The sooner this idiot of a man left the better. He was dangerously close to tearing that afro right off of his head.
Miror B came to a halt again. His wide smile remained in place, but it looked plastered there.
"Girls? Be darlings and do run along without me back to Pyrite. I must head to Phenac to meet up with Folly and Trudly about a certain little lady. But I just need to have a teensy-weensy chat with Mr. Macho here," he called over his shoulder at Reath and Ferma. They shrugged and sashayed down the hall, throwing contemptuous gazes over their shoulders at Gonzap. Once they had left, Miror B clapped his hands together, smiling back at Gonzap.
"Well! That's some bad news, so bad it may give me the blues. But see, you keeping that little-bitty device safe? That was part of the deal, dearie. How might you be planning to pay us back?"
"Pay you back?! How 'bout ya just give us another one?"
"Oh no, no, no. No, that's a big no-no," Miror B replied with a fake pout. "That nifty-keen stealing machine cost Cipher a pretty little penny, it did. And since you were the one to lose it, you are the one that needs to pay us back. Especially since we were ever so nice in giving you a Shadow Pokemon as a loan. You wouldn't want me to take that little present back, would you?"
An ugly vein was throbbing in Gonzap's temple, and his face was heading towards the deep red end of the color spectrum. He reached up and grabbed the collar of the man's leisure suit, yanking him down to eye level and ready to throttle him.
"You threatenin' me, ya damn string bean? I dunno who ya think ya are, waltzin' in here and orderin' me around and tryin' to be all intimidating, but you don't know who you're dealing with. I'm the goddamn leader of Team Snagem. I could bend your spine into a pretzel. I could snap you like a toothpick and be done with ya. Who d'ya think ya are?"
Miror B curled a lip at him, and Gonzap faltered. He was expecting the man to cower and whimper.
"Who am I, honey? I'm a Cipher Admin. I've got the town of Pyrite wrapped around my pinkie finger, darling, and my boss practically runs all of Orre," Miror B's voice was still lilting and sing-song, but his smile was razor-sharp and steely. "I say the word to the higher-up, and you and your adorable little ragtag team of misfits won't be dancing anymore. Sudowoodo, be a dear."
Something rammed into Gonzap's side, and he crashed into his desk. Groaning, he picked himself up, finding himself face-to-face with a very cruel-looking rock type.
"You best find that Snag Machine, Mr. Macho," the Chipher Admin said, dusting off his leisure suit and twisting his way to the door. "Cipher has quite a precious army of Shadow Pokemon now, and if you don't be a dear and find it, I'm afraid you'll have to face the music. If you catch my drift, darling. Come along, Sudowoodo. Ta-ta!"
Gonzap groggily decided on two things. Wes was going to pay for this fifty times over. And the first person he caught listening to disco was going to be thrown in a locked room with his Skarmory.
