Bloody hell; this was really tough to write, because of injury. It's two hundred words shorter than normal and I apologies for that!

Enjoy~! Don't forget to review!

Season One: Break Bad to Break Evil

Wrong Number

How much do you like money?

Do you like hurting other Pokémon?

Who is leaving messages on your phone?

Where are you right now?

Why are we having this conversation?

The dream haunted my thoughts, whipping my brain like a Pecha Berry branch. Each of those questions are the same questions you ask a serial killer, a arsonist, hitman; not a Highschool Psychology teacher! Those questions came out of the blue as soon as things got situated and serious. The best thing I could come up with is the Seven Sins of the Distortion World, maybe those can be the answer.

So let's break it down with the first question... How much do you like money? Well obviously Intelligence was asking am I greedy by nature? I may be famished and homeless, but I didn't resort to desperate measures to survive; but that doesn't mean I didn't snatch a purse because Doge went to bed without food three times in a row. Blimey now I can't stop thinking about the definition of Greed.

Greed, also known as avarice, cupidity, or covetousness, is the inordinate desire to possess wealth, goods, or objects of abstract value with the intention to keep it for one's self, far beyond the dictates of basic survival and comfort. It is applied to a markedly high desire for and pursuit of wealth, status, and power.

As a secular psychological concept, greed is, similarly, an inordinate desire to acquire or possess more than one needs. The degree of inordinance is related to the inability to control the reformulation of "wants" once desired "needs" are eliminated.

Erich Fromm described greed as "a bottomless pit which exhausts the person in an endless effort to satisfy the need without ever reaching satisfaction." It is typically used to criticize those who seek excessive material wealth, although it may apply to the need to feel more excessively moral, social, or otherwise better than someone else.

The purpose for greed, and any actions associated with it, is possibly to deprive others of potential means (perhaps, of basic survival and comfort) or future opportunities accordingly, or to obstruct them therefrom, as a measure of enhanced discretion via majority belongings-having and majority competitive advantage, thus insidious and tyrannical or otherwise having negative connotation.

Alternately, the purpose could be defense or counteraction from such dangerous, potential leveragein matters of questionable agreeability. A consequence of greedy activity may be inability to sustain any of the costs or burdens associated with that which has been or is being accumulated, leading to a backfire or destruction, whether of self or more generally. So, the level of "inordinance" of greed pertains to the amount of vanity,malice or burden associated with it.

So my best guess is that Intelligence was asking me if I was greedy, because nothing that I do ever makes me a loan Ekans.

My thoughts accompanied me, trying to ignore the simple melady playomg out. Buzzing filled my ears from the other side of the luxurious vehicle, the seat across from me vibrated vengefully. The ringtone was a simple melody, but the gentle tune was overthrown by the annoying buzzing that made the sleeping Fenekin mumble at it. The buzzing was relentless that it dragged me out of my brooding thoughts. The buzzing racked my brain cells and shook them.

The vibrations came from the seat directly in front of me, I gave a breath of indispensable uneasy, I swore the seat was further than before, it made my lungs snap shut in unseen fear. I could make my chest feel air because of the uncomfortable position I am in, the anxiety filling me to the brim; air disappeared from me as. I tilted over the anxiety and gulped down my heart, standing up with wavering courage

I lowered myself from the seat and checked the window in case they were coming back; when I saw I was in the clear, I went to the source of the vibration. The seat was shaking like it was a message chair, almost soothing as I hovered my paw over the seat. I looked for the source of it, and I dug my paw through the side of the seat. Passing through the crumbs and coins (Which I stashed), I finally felt the device.

It was a phone... A flip, disposal phone. It had a small screen on the hull of it and it read 'Answrer it' and it rang three more times. I caught my breath one more time before looking out the window once more. I picked up the phone and slowly lifted the hull. I shakily placed the device to my ear and cleared my throat. Okay I knew something was up when my paws started to shake. Intimidation, the bastard had that nature.

"H-hello?" My stuttering betrayed my feelings, my body quivering out of

"Hello," The calm voice on the other receiver replied, the voice sounded masculine and sleek. The voice dripping with a Italian accent, it was almost cold and warming at the same time; as if Liquid Nitrogen was at a boil. I took a breath and looked back outside, they still weren't back yet; good. Maybe this guy can help me... Then again I am now signed under the Mafia and they will kill me if I so much as muttered anything that relatively sounds like Help.

"They are not back yet," The voice continued.

"How do you know?" I asked, still looking out the window.

"I am watching," A simple answer that sent chills up my spine in anxiety, blimey this voice doesn't break nice. It destroys it!

"Can you see me?" I asked, hoping he can't.

"Yes, I can..." The voice made me want to cry out in fear.

"Don't worry, I am not going to hurt anyone provided you are cooperative..." That statement alone made my heart lurch forward and back into my heart in matter of minutes. Slowly the voice almost made me feel like crawling under the tire and let them burn out while I am still under the rubber tires. To top it off; stick my dead body into the car exhaust and let it rip one more time! Hold my beer!

"Okay... Okay..." My heart still pumping, my chest begins to hurt painfully. I swallowed bile back down my throat and took a deep shaky breath. Who is this Pokémon?!

"Now, calm down and stop hyperventilating. Tell me your name..." The voice demanded, no hint of gentleness in his voice. It made me jump quite frankly in shock on how empty and threatening his voice sounds. I started to notice a smaller detail that his voice had three different tones to it. He is masking his voice... I'd admire that if it wasn't for the fact of his ability of Intimidation; if I had the Clear Body ability I wouldn't sound like the damsel in distress.

"Safari... Chaos..."

"World famous Ms. Chaos?"

"I am not that famous... If I could be homeless..."

"Okay so you are warming up; My name is Warlock," The voice introduced, hmm why does that name sounds familiar? The matical voice of his was higher, a clear sign of impatience; what was he in a hurry for? In this rain so close to snowing, why would anyone ever be in a hurry to get moving? My guest is he should be in a apartment building with either a high-power percision rifle trained to my neck, or with binoculars.

"You probably have the wrong number..." I felt my heart race, I heard that name before. The infamous name of the assassin called Warmonger who was notorious for his hit on the Prime Minister, The Warturtle was sentenced to death but had a stay of hand long enough to escape. He went into hiding, still accepting hits. His current location is unknown and his method of payment is unorthodox.

"I am not the Warmonger..." The Voice still had no emotions, "However I have a job, not for the faint of heart." It didn't calm me down in the slightest. If it didn't make the throbbing in my heart any better, it sure did make me want to throw up my damn hunk of useless tissue I call a heart. The bloody Intimidation ability is going to give me a cardiac arrest before I can even hang up!

Wait a minute… Is he offering a hit?!

"A-a job?!" Everything else around me didn't matter, his voice made me want to throw up dry ice from my lungs. My ears felt like they went numb from just holding the disposible phone to my ear. My lungs snapped shut and I breathed rapidly; I had no experience in dealing with this kind of situation. I whimpered and looked back outside to find the two still in line to check out of the Gas Station.

"Calm down, those figli di puttana ingenuo will get suspicious about your mood!" The voice snapped, making me jump. Warlock went from no emotional robot-like entity to a hostile monster on the tip of a Pokécoin, I looked out the window to find the two finally walking out and here is were I started to lower my panicking state. I have a excuse to hang up now, I can just destroy this phone and go on with my life; I don't know Warlock's real name. He has nothing against me.

"They're coming back!" I feigned a panic attack, "I gotta hang up!"

"Hide the phone in your hat (How did you...?!) Warlock said calmly, too calm for my liking! "Erase the Collar Sid, The digits won't work anymore. I'll touch again.."

He didn't even ask me if the damn thing was being recorded, or GPS tracked. It could have been a undercover sting operation! I have to destroy this phone; I can always steal another one, or if I survive this Second Article deal turnabout I will just simply buy another one! I took a look around he area to see any suspicious looking cars or vans, when I saw nothing but a cream-biege RV drive by, I took the phone by the top and bottom and snapped it in half.

It felt great destroying the device that allowed me to speak to that monster. The questions are for him; not me.