Chapter 5: An Ingrained Question

"Wow, look at all that…"

Joey, taking the lead for Demurke, Minichino, Politoed, and Breloom, stopped the group to gawk. Far to their left was a strip of yellow tape wrapped around a tree that supposedly marked the entrance to Asulaguah Beach - but with the change in tone, Joey almost didn't need it. Starting from that point, a swarm of waste populated the beach ahead made of just about every type of litter one could think of, lining the sand from the water to the grass. "Bless this dungeon's heart…" he said. The beach was already in bad condition outside of the dungeon, so this was truly something else.

"Oh, yeah. And it gets worse," Minichino told him. "There's a bunch of trash still buried in the sand. Take two steps and you'll probably prod your foot on a torn metal can or something."

Joey brought his gaze to a glass shard that gleamed in the sun, broken off from its whole and primed for vengeance. He cringed at the thought of jabbing that sharp end into any of his arteries, much less his foot.

"Stupid geodudes," Politoed remarked, looking off into the horizon.

"Geodudes?" Joey asked.

"There is...this g-group of geodudes led by a graveler that's been g-going around Kalmwa'er and the other dungeons almost every day for the past couple months," Demurke explained. "They like to st-steal scrap and trash and take it back to their hideout. Usually they raid the l-local dump, but sometimes they get...adventurous. A lot of the trash that e-ends up in the mystery dungeons is because of s-stuff they leave behind or throw away. The dungeon shifts j-jumble them all around, and now it looks like this."

Joey was taken by surprise. "So y'all just know who puts most of this here? Why ain't we doing anything about 'em?"

"Every piece of litter has its source, but it's tough to hit the source instead of the litter," Minichino said. "We're not allowed to hurt them unless it's in self-defense or a fair duel. We've asked the Service Guild to take care of it, but I don't think they have yet."

"Yeah, it sucks. Poli and I would do it in a heartbeat, but we aren't authorized to." Breloom shrugged. "The best we can do is clean up after them."

"And clean up after them we will!" Minichino perked up, trying to move on from the subject. "Time for some exposing Tail Slap action!" Politoed, Breloom, and Demurke all took a step back, prompting Joey to give her some space.

Swish! With a whirl, Minichino swung her tail and sent a burst of wind forward. "Woah!" Joey marveled as a torrent of sand and a number of plastics were flung high into the air. The sand coasted on the wind while the trash struck the surface and made small impacts. When the cloud of sand cleared, the trash was visible, ripe for picking.

"There isn't a piece of trash on this beach that can hide from that!" Minichino said before springing into action. "This way we can make the most of our cleaning efforts."

Minichino, Politoed, Breloom, and Demurke all got to work with only a few words more. Joey, left to his own devices, imitated them. Cup after cup, shard after shard, bag after bag...every sand-coated piece of waste was stuffed into his satchel with little effort. Each one made Joey feel more and more compelled. He could save so much of his and the others' time if he just whacked those geodudes. Imagine how SEAS would think of him…

No, he had to quash that pipe dream while it was still small. There was no way he could do that. All he needed as proof was his performance against that barbaracle thing. Joey had been so useless then, trying to guard Mathew from that thing. He was kidding himself, believing he could take on a group of scary pokemon for the Club's sake. But...wasn't that what he was working here for? To learn how to fight, so he could take down scary pokemon and whatever things SEAS wanted him to beat up... if he failed at a job in the business division, that is.

Now that he had seen it first-hand, fighting seemed so difficult and intimidating. What had gotten him on board with such a hard job in the first place? Argh, maybe he would know if his past wasn't blank! Why was it that everything that mattered to him was completely out of his own reach, and everything that didn't was right at his fingertips? Without his past, how could he hope to grasp this future they were setting out for him?

"We're back!"

Joey was glad to hear Jermy's shrill exclamation - it was a sufficient distraction from all that. He, Mathew, ORB, and Meowth approached the rest of the Club.

"Th-that was fast!" Demurke exclaimed as she shoved a balled-up sheet of paper into her satchel.

"Yeah. The rock took more damage than the buggy did," he said.

"They certainly could have finished it faster," ORB remarked.

That statement left Mathew miffed for some reason. "Yeah, whatever." He brightened his tone as he came up to Minichino. "Hey, can you do that trash-launching thing you did a minute ago?"

"Tail Slap? I didn't think you saw that," she remarked. "I can do it now, yeah. What for?"

Mathew took a couple paces backward from the group and dropped into a readied stance. His hands gripped the ends of his satchel. "I have an idea. You'll see."

"Oh...kay then. Get ready…" Minichino took one step back herself. Joey looked on curiously.

Swish! The rush of wind blasted towards Mathew, but the reptile remained firm. As sand and waste were flung about, he looked straight upwards. Joey followed his gaze into the air, where a legion of trash fell down towards Mathew. He raised the satchel up and small plate fell into it. With a leap, Mathew added a bowl. Then, with his masked snout raised high, he caught a six-pack ring, hung by a hole. He lowered his head and dropped it into his satchel. "Three!" he announced.

"Uh… Three what?" Joey asked.

"Three pieces of trash grabbed in midair," Mathew explained. "Next time, I'll try to get four."

"Oh, I get it!" Jermy said. "You're trying to make this into some kind of game, aren'tcha?"

"Bingo! Just going around and picking up trash is really boring, so I thought we could try spicing it up. Count how much you catch, only things you catch in the air count for your points, and whoever has the most points at the end of the day wins." He glanced at Demurke. "Oh, and you can't go higher than a jump, so it's fair."

"What do you get if you win?" Minichino asked.

Mathew looked blankly at Minichino. "Uh… Bragging rights?"

The rest of the Club gave silent glances at one another. "Th-that works," Demurke concluded.

"So this is the 'something' you came up with?" Meowth said.

"Yeah!" Mathew replied to him. "I figured showing everyone a way we could keep ourselves from snapping our spinal cords would be pretty damn memorable."

Breloom gave Mathew an approving look. "I do like my spinal cord…"

"Uh, what is the 'something' you're yammering on about?" Joey asked.

"Nothing important." Mathew gave a sweeping look to the Club veterans. "It's just something I came up with."

Joey squinted at him for a moment. He knew that wasn't the entire truth...but it did sound like a fun game. He reckoned it was better to let it be. He had more important things to worry about, anyhow.

"Okay then!" Minichino exclaimed. "Everyone gather 'round. Little ol' Minichino's gonna tell you the ongoing story of the beach's woes!"

"Minichino, it's a beach," Meowth said as the Club spread out in front of the chinchilla. "What woe could it possibly have?"

"The one where I gave it something to cry about!"

When Minichino hit the beach with Tail Slap once again, a dozen things happened around Joey. Sand blew around his face. The wind pushed his feet. His coworkers sprung into action. Nevertheless, Joey stayed focused. His eyes clung to one object — a huge cardboard box. His eyes glimmered with excitement as he followed its skewed angle. All he had to do was just stand beneath it and let it catch on his head, the same way Mathew grabbed the six-pack ring. Here it comes!

"Coming through!"

Joey's heart sank like a ship beside an iceberg: broken in half. He watched as a green blur leaped through the air and caught the box right out from above him. One glance to the right, and there was Breloom, satchel in one hand and box in the other. "Six!" she proclaimed.

"A big achievement!" Politoed cheered. Joey listened to the others declare their numbers and realized his projection was correct. Two twos. A three. A four. Not even a five. "Record's only going to get bigger, too."

"Yeah, only because you didn't pick up anything so you could show me what to grab," Breloom teased with a lackadaisical air. She flattened out the cardboard box and laid it on the sand.

"You really want me to try beating your score?" Politoed said. "Couldn't do it if I tried. Might as well help make yours better."

"Poli, you're crazy…" Breloom leaned towards him and pecked his cheek.

Joey stood in utter defeat as Breloom handed off her cardboard scraps for Politoed to hold. "But that was gonna…" he mouthed. Neither of them seemed to notice the moment Breloom had just accidentally stolen from him.

"Hey, don't feel too bad." Minichino's voice made Joey perk up a bit. "Breloom is super agile. Politoed or not, she'll probably kick our butts in something like this. She's stolen my thunder!"

"What did you get?" Joey asked.

Minichino scoffed at herself. "A big, fat zero."

The boy grimaced. "Same…"

"It's kind of a problem," Minichino noted. "If I keep sending the trash your way, I won't catch any of it myself. Does that mean I'm just gonna auto-lose here, or…?"

"I can help with that!" Jermy exclaimed, butting into their conversation. "We'll just trade out each time so we can both have a shot."

"Oh, thanks!" Minichino preemptively moved towards Joey and the others, practically handing Jermy the position. "Do you have a sweeping move, too?"

"No, but I do have a move that is almost as good: Round! If we don't charge it up too much, that is."

"Round? Isn't that the move that you sing to use?" Breloom asked.

"Yes," ORB answered. "It's about as effective as you would expect from somebody with virtually zero singing experience."

"Aw, I'm not that bad, ORB!" Jermy said. "And if I am, you pass it off pretty easily."

"Pass Round with your robot?" Politoed remarked.

"Well, what the hell are you waiting for, Jermy?" Mathew asked. "I want to see this."

"Can do!" Jermy and ORB took paces away from each other. Joey and Mathew looked on with anticipation, as did the others.

"What lyrics are we reciting?" ORB asked.

"Um… Ooooh. I just got an idea," Jermy said. "I'm gonna spin some onto an instrumental."

"Oh great. Try not to forget your own lyrics this time."

"Don't worry, it's easy!" the rodent reassured his robot. "Now, I'm thinking of a classical...fast pace...I think it has to do with horses?"

"Now playing: Beethoven's Seventh—"

"Wait!" Joey exclaimed. A factoid reached the surface of his mind. "I reckon Jermy's talking about William Tell Overture. It's played a lot for horse races."

Politoed gave Joey a confused look. "Never heard of this William—"

"Well, it looks like Joey was good for something after all," ORB said. "Now playing: William Tell Overture: Finale, with a lowered tempo." From ORB emerged the sounds of an energetic orchestra, playing a song Joey somehow found both very familiar and brand new at the same time.

As the intro drew to a close, the whole Club watched Jermy intently.

"Pick-it Up, Pick-it Up, Pick-it Up, up, up!" With a wave of the hands and the mouth, a colorful energy in the shape of a musical note was flung forth from Jermy, straight at ORB.

"Pick-it Up, Pick-it Up, Pick-it Up, up, up, up." ORB's sound reflected the note back at Jermy. It seemed slightly larger now.

Jermy, again. "Pick-it Up, Pick-it Up, Pick-it Up, up, up!"

To ORB. "Pick-it Up…" This time, ORB sent the energy slightly higher. It looked like the power of song was going to sail right over Jermy's head.

"…For the Pick-it Up Club!" Jermy leaped up to spike it.

BOOM.

"Too much, too much! Aaaaah!" Mathew screamed as the shockwave of the attack enshrouded all of them in a sandy cloud. Joey shut his eyes and, once they were in the thick of it, he could barely open them without wincing.

"Oh my g-gosh!" Demurke exclaimed. Joey tried to spot her, but the torrent of dust was too thick. "Jermy, you k-kicked up more sand than trash…!"

"Yeah, dude! Talk about overclocking it a little!" Minichino said. "Now we can't see anything!"

"Sorry, guys! I might have gotten a little too into the song. But it's okay! I have goggles!" Jermy exclaimed from somewhere within the fog. A gasp followed. "There's sand in the goggles! Oh, no!"

"Goddamnit, Jermy…" Mathew muttered. Joey felt the reptile's hand grab his arm and guide him as if he could see just fine. Joey clasped his eyes shut, putting his trust in him.

"Can anybody...see me...leaping around?" Breloom asked. Joey figured that the picture he had just gotten in his head was much more amusing than what she was actually doing.

"Save your strength, Breloom," Meowth suggested. "We're not gonna get anywhere until Jermy's little project drifts off."

"Hey!" Jermy exclaimed. "I'm only about thirty three percent responsible for this!"

Minichino sounded flabbergasted. "Thirty three percent?! What in the world is — oh hey guys — what is the other percent for?" Joey presumed that Mathew had found their chinchilla friend. A strained squint showed a gray mass that proved him right.

"Thirty three percent ORB, and thirty three percent you!" Jermy said.

"How is it my fault?!" Minichino asked to no avail.

"That's ninety nine percent," Meowth pointed out. "What's the one percent?"

"The rich eli — OW!" Evidently, somebody had just smacked Jermy. "What the heck, Politoed?!"

"Was for that pitiful singing voice!" the frog explained.

"Yeah, and you tried to bring up politics on the job," Breloom added. "You do realize almost all of us are wealthy, right?"

"The three of you, shut up!" Mathew exclaimed. "We have bigger fish to fry here. Like the fact that, in case you haven't noticed, it's been thirty seconds and the sand cloud's still up!"

"…Huh. You're right," Breloom said.

"Unless there's some rule about dust clouds I wasn't told - wait a minute." The interjection was aimed at Joey. "Where did your hat go?"

"My hat's missing?!" Joey patted his head with his free hand, and sure enough, there was no hat where one should've been. Had the wind from the Round attack knocked it off? No, that shouldn't be possible with the strap. How…?

"Guys?" Jermy said nervously. "Have any of you seen ORB? I don't hear William Tell Overture anymore..."

"I hath seized your felt and kin!" A voice boomed. Through his squinting, Joey watched a shadowy figure pass over them.

Mathew gawked. "Is...is that a goddamn ghost?"

"Indeed, I am!" he declared. Elsewhere, Joey heard Politoed groan in what sounded like irritation. "This hostage of mineself shalt cure my tears of defeat!"

"Ugh, now you tell me they can cry about it…" Minichino seemed just as annoyed as Politoed.

The sandstorm around them slowly dropped along with the spirit, freeing up Joey's vision. Trash surrounded them on all sides, kicked to the surface by Jermy's enormous Round attack. The spirit lowered into the sand, blending in with it as a shadow of sorts. It slithered towards one particular piece, a little red shovel, before bursting out of the sand, taking the shovel and some shells with it. The sand, shovel, and shells assembled into some sort of vessel for the ghoul.

"What did you do with ORB?!" Jermy asked the manifesting enemy confrontationally.

"Why is the robot your first concern?" Meowth snarked before the attacker even had a chance to speak. "We were all just in a sandstorm."

"But mine plan doth revolve around that first concern!" The possessed sand castle wiggled around as it shouted angrily. "Thou hast taketh mine honour, last we met! Thou shalt pay with my perfect vengeance! We shalt take your ally and your belongings!"

"Um… Hah?" Joey said.

"Plan to steal our satchels and our stuff over losing a fight, Palossand? At least target the veterans first..." Politoed said.

"Oho!" Palossand quipped. "The thief's tongue hast not yet lost its judgemental luster."

Joey was still confused. "Thief?"

"Indeed! Thoust with the bubbles and the kingly claim hast stolen mine dignity naught but two weeks ago!"

Politoed sighed. "Means when we beat him and his squad up a while back because they were hoarding the trash," he explained to the group.

"Whatever dignity Politoed took from you isn't worth taking revenge over," Meowth said.

"I claimed this land by mine own pillars!" Palossand shouted theatrically. "I adored mine subjects dearly using mine kingship, but now mine good name is gone! Gone! Thou hast brought ruin to the wondrous sands of mine kingdom! Mine turf has been tainted by your constant conquerings! Thou shalt be punished by mine own hand!"

"You don't even have hands, you word salad sand castle!" Minichino said.

"Nay is what I shalt say!" The turrets at the side of the sand castle wiggled about in random directions. "Dost thou see now that I hath hands?!"

"Analysis complete: this guy's speech quirk sucks," ORB spoke, revealing himself within the sand monster's body. "He barely even uses the dialect right."

"Silence, wench!" In a way not unlike a sink sucking in water, ORB was dragged down into the sand.

"ORB! Nooooooo!" Jermy cried.

"If thee shant take my declarations of war in a manner of seriousness before mine presence, perhaps thou shalt change your minds whence you face my knights' wraths!" Palossand declared. On cue, three smaller mounds of sand with faces emerged from the surface, carrying their own little shovels.

"Bet Palossand gave ORB to one of those sandygasts," Politoed said.

"So what, we need to whack all four of them until one of them coughs it up?" Mathew asked, annoyed by the approach of the second fight that day.

"We're gonna whack these guys," Jermy said. "You should stay back."

"Hey! I'm doing fine now!" Mathew exclaimed.

"I reckon the little fellas can't hide all of ORB inside…" In studying the threats, Joey saw something that gave him pause. One of the sand monsters had produced a piece of apparel covering its shovel that looked like… No, it was! "My hat!"

Joey's declaration caused chaos to break out. Palossand and his minions leapt into action, prompting the Club veterans to meet them with force. Joey kept his cool and stayed focused — he wanted that hat back.

The totodile watched as the sand monster with his hat drifted further and further away from the others, slipping away from the erupting conflict. Out of the back of the hat sprouted a familiar red-bulbed antenna. Joey chased after him. "Stop!" he commanded. "I know you've got him, too!"

The sand monster gave a cursory glance. Some seconds passed, and the glance deepened. Joey took a look behind them himself — they were a fair distance away from anybody else. Ignorable. A perfect situation for the carrier of the hostage.

"Thou is playing a most dangerous game. If thee carries the truth, then regardless of your type, I must knock it out of you!" Confirming his suspicion, out popped the top half of ORB, previously concealed by the hat.

"Joey, remember what that barbaracle did to you," ORB said from within its confines. "Let the big kids handle it. You don't know what you're doing."

"I don't care!" Joey exclaimed. "Everyone else is busy with the other guys. I don't like it, but I have to prove I can fight if I want my hat back!"

The sand monster eyed the crocodile awkwardly. "Will thoust make thine move yet?!"

"Joey, seriously, it's not that big of a deal. You'll be graded worse for getting in over your head than playing it safe and getting help."

Joey paused for a moment. ORB was right. The fact that he was trying to fight after being advised not to would surely reflect badly on him. But there was something in his heart that wouldn't let him accept that. His desires of unknown origin flooded himself with determination.

Joey dropped his satchel and marched forward. "Well, ORB, I reckon that most great folks didn't make it far playing if sa—"

Instant regret. It hit him swiftly with no hesitation. Or at least, that was what hit his mind — his body was hit with a shockwave of sand that bulldozed right over him, flinging him onto his back.

"You're actually doing this," ORB remarked. "Wow."

"Pah!" the sand monster said. "If thou cannot givest our kind even the least of respect, then perhaps it would be wise of mineself to use that excessive blabber against thee!" From sandygast came some kind of deep crackling sound. "Now I know...thou hasn't...the slightest idea...how to battle!"

Joey tried to stand up and get out of the way, but that just made his beatdown worse — the sandygast launched a dark, shadowy fastball right into his chest, sending him bounding across the beach just like the wave that woke him. He landed on his side, gripping his aching chest and feeling just as vulnerable as Mathew was earlier.

"How do you feel about playing the hero now, Joey?" ORB asked.

He could only let out a groan in response. "Uuuuuugh…"

"That's what I thought."

The sand monster loomed over his body ominously, ORB's attena gleaming into the boy's eyes. Joey could tell just by the hollow grin on its face that he looked pathetic, ripe for a finisher so unearned it was laughable. That only made that desire calling him to fight burn more. With a lunge, Joey snapped his jaws down on the antenna and pulled as hard as he—

Sand! Sand! The sand monster had pulled him by the maw instead and swallowed his body whole! He was coarse, rough. Irritating. Getting everywhere. Joey had to hold his eyes shut and only open his mouth slightly to scream in fear. He thought he could hear ORB say something, but he couldn't make it out past all of the sand.

"Now, perish!" The monster's voice boomed all around him.

Joey tried to struggle with every muscle he had, flailing like a fly in a flytrap. He began feeling tired and lightheaded. It felt like this monster was giving him...death. No, no, no, no! he repeated to himself rapidly, desperately clinging to consciousness.

Then, for a split second, he was free. The totodile hurriedly planted his feet in the non-living sand, having freed everything except his maw. Next to him was a pool of dampened sand, and beyond that, Politoed and Breloom. The couple was busy fighting one of the other sandygasts. Joey figured that Politoed got an opportunity to send an attack his way, and the sand monster's dodge must have displaced him long enough to act.

"Yo Joe! Are you okay?" Breloom asked while looking away from him. She tried kicking at the shovel of their sand monster, carefully avoiding the body of sand.

"Does he look okay?" Seemingly, ORB had also been dislodged on the other side of the hat-wearing sandygast. The strained face on his opponent suggested pulling them both in was a struggle.

"Hit it with a water attack!" Politoed advised Joey. He seemed too busy evading torrents of sand kicked up by their opponent. "Ghosts can't control the wet sand! Takes them out easily!"

"A wmmer mmmt?!" Joey was met with a wave of panic. Water attack?! He didn't even know how to attack, much less do it with water! But to admit that to Politoed would be a slippery slope straight into his amnesia. He'd made a promise not to talk…

"Will thoust stop ignoring me?!"

Joey let out a muffled wail as he felt his sandygast trying to pull him in further. He was running out of time! He had to at least act like he knew what he was doing. Joey resisted the sand monster, who looked at the totodile with nervous eyes as they pulled against one another. He gargled, getting as much water as he could, and…

…released a pathetic puddle from his mouth, rolling off of his maw like drool. He hadn't produced a water attack. He had just spat at his enemy.

His opponent took joy in seeing defeat in his eyes. "Nary a tutor could save you if one tried," he taunted, pulling Joey's maw within inch by inch. "How pitiable." The totodile's eyelids drooped, conceding victory...until they widened right back up again as a figure leapt right towards them!

The sand monster convulsed in fear. "AAG—" With a swing of Minichino's dampened tail, the creature's makeshift body burst, freeing Joey and ORB. The shovel fell to the ground, then slid away, dragged by a spirit.

"How's that taste of Aqua Tail for the road?!" Minichino asked the fleeing ghoul. Her tail seemed to dry automatically.

"Thanks…" Joey said, rising to his feet.

"No biggie." Minichino cleaned him off before handing him his satchel. "These guys can barely so much as take a hit. Us OGs make mincemeat out of them!" The chinchilla glanced at Politoed and Breloom. "See for yourself."

Joey watched as Breloom charged furiously at the remaining sandygast. It leapt towards her, but she nimbly dodged to the side. Again and again, the sand monster tried to grab Breloom. Despite this, she always stepped where she was still in its range. Joey quickly realized why she was putting herself at risk.

"Do it!" Breloom jumped out of the way, revealing Politoed was just behind her. The sandygast, so preoccupied with Breloom, hadn't anticipated his approach, so it was left with no time to react. Politoed reared his head back and fired a stream of bubbles straight at the sand monster. It reacted to each pop as if it was a small explosion, knocking away chunks of its body until nothing was left. This ghost, too, fled with its shovel.

Joey looked on, impressed. "I reckon that these dungeon folks don't know a lot about strategy."

"Yep," Politoed said. "Acting on emotion so much doesn't make it easy to respond to good tactics."

"Uh-huh. That's some Dungeoneering 101 stuff," Minichino remarked. Joey tried to ignore the comment. "Anyways, one hat, coming right up!" She picked up his hat, sitting in the still sand, and handed it to him. It felt good to have it back, as if an old friend had returned to him. Joey couldn't tell if it was the familiarity talking or the pleasantry of the shade.

"Hey!" Jermy grabbed the attention of Joey and the others. He was trapped within a harsh sandstorm resembling a miniature version of the cloud he had made earlier. "Can one of you hotshots get your keisters over here? We could use some help!"

"Oh god please hemmmph!" Mathew yelled as Palossand dragged him into one of his large turrets. Demurke leapt into the air to swoop in, but the remaining sandygast sprung up and flung a thrown-away cardboard box into her, knocking her out of the sky. Meowth couldn't seem to get an opening either, getting knocked down the same way Joey was.

"Wow," ORB remarked at the cubone's predicament. "Mathew is demonstrating that he is on the same skill level as a sixteen-year-old."

"Wanna get him out of there too, Breloom? Gotta keep the mediocre rappers around for comparison, after all," Politoed said half-seriously.

Breloom smirked. "You ask like I'm ever not down, Poli." She sprang into action once again, diving for the sandygast. With the air cleared, Politoed spat into his palm and then ran forward.

Palossand gasped at his approach. "Don't you dare-"

Smack! Smack! With two powerful slaps, Politoed demolished the turret. Sand flung in every direction, but there was no sign of Mathew.

"You knave!" Palossand cried. "I shalt have your head for that."

"Pretty sure I'm the one who's supposed to say that." Politoed tapped his King's Rock.

Joey stayed away from the fight with Minichino, watching them in awe. Palossand had spoken such a big game, but Politoed and Breloom were handling him just as easily as his subordinates! It was a fight more in their favor than a one-sided die.

Palossand glared at Politoed furiously. "We shalt see about thy head after this!" Palossand pointed the remaining turret at him. The turret pulled into itself, causing it to swell up.

"Brace yourself!" Breloom exclaimed. "Probably gonna use Math as a cannonball!"

Wordlessly understanding, Politoed got into a stance and held his arm out. Just then, Palossand's second turret burst, and a screaming Mathew was fired from the top mask-first towards Politoed at high speeds. Politoed leaned in and caught the cubone, nearly losing his balance from the kickback but managing to stay up. Palossand, on the other hand, recoiled significantly from the cannon fire.

"Psst. Joey," Minichino whispered to him. "You know what else dungeon pokemon forget to pay attention to?"

"Hah? What would that be?"

"Just watch."

"Does thou believe thee is a hotshot for catching but one attack?" Palossand ask. "For I have as many chances as I have sta-"

Splash.

It happened in just a second. Palossand hadn't even noticed Politoed had pushed him up against the shore. Just one wave was all it took to demolish the living sand castle. Joey tried to cup his mouth, but ended up bopping the bottom of his maw instead.

Minichino smirked. "Spacial awareness."

The Club, for a moment, was still, stunned by what had just happened. Then, Mathew, Politoed, Breloom, Jermy, and Demurke surrounded the last sandygast.

"Uhh…" Suddenly, the sandygast's body fell away, and the apparition barrelled past Mathew, shovel in hand.

"Hey! Where the hell do you think you're going?!" Mathew sprinted after it, picking up his bone club that had rolled out of his hand while he was a living cannonball as he went. "We're not done with you yet!"

"M-Mathew!" Demurke cried. "You can't fight that one…! He s-surrendered!" With a flap of the wings, she took off after him. Jermy was just behind, followed by Meowth, who seemed only half-invested in the effort, as well as ORB.

Breloom looked to Politoed. "Shouldn't we go after him, too, Poli? We need to at least pretend to try arresting him for it."

Politoed shrugged. "Not a crime worth chasing, really. How's he going to whack a ghost?" As if nothing had happened, he grabbed a bottle cap and dropped it into his satchel. "Overall, pretty disappointing fight. Getting knocked out isn't fun, but at least old Heady and his limbs let us get the last laugh in the end."

"Those guys ain't even a challenge for y'all…" Joey remarked, approaching them. "If we swapped future jobs, I reckon you'd do mine better than I ever could."

"Don't sweat it, Joey!" Minichino gave him a pat on the back. "We all struggle on silly stuff from time to time. You just gotta do better next time."

"But it's different for me," Joey told Minichino. "I gotta learn how to fight real soon, and I can't even use this 'Water Gun' everyone keeps saying I have!"

"Hm?" Suddenly, Politoed, Breloom, and Minichino all exchanged looks. "Caught that you had some trouble back there, but you really don't know how to use Water Gun?" he asked.

"Water Gun's a pretty basic move for a water type, right? How'd you get by not knowing that, Joe?" Breloom pressured him further.

All these questions made Joey feel so exposed. He couldn't take it. "Look, I haven't had the chance to learn, okay?!" he exclaimed before turning their backs to them. Joey tried picking up a different cardboard box, but it was too big for his satchel. "I know I'm good for nothing already. I don't need anyone rubbing it in."

"Hey, give me that box." Minichino reached out and took the box from him. "I don't think they meant it like that. Unless somebody wants to object…" She shot a look Politoed and Breloom's way as she tore off the sides of the box. Sharing a mildly guilty expression, the two gave her and Joey some space. "None of us think you're useless, Joey. You're just new!" Minichino folded one of the sides in half and handed it back to Joey. Now he could fit it in his satchel. "Well, newer than most, but y'know, that's okay since you're at least trying. We just want to know why."

"Well…" Joey hesitated for a moment. "I dunno if I should talk about it. I promised not to talk about job stuff."

"We're not asking about the SEAS job. We're asking about you," Breloom said. "You can talk about yourself just fine, yeah?"

"Exactly! Besides…" Minichino folded up another side of the box and put it in her satchel. She tossed two more to the couple for them to store away. "Whatever you've got going on, Politoed, Breloom, and I can handle it. We're good at keeping secrets."

Joey felt bad for not keeping to David's word, but his resistance was slowly giving way. "Okay. I'll talk." He took a preparatory breath. "See, I ain't from around these parts...and I mean really not from around these parts."

Minichino tilted her head. "What, are you one of those human guys?"

"Yeah, I - wait. Hah?" Had he heard that right? "You guys know about humans?"

Politoed crossed his arms. "Know about them, alright."

"Yeah, they show up sometimes to help people out,' Breloom explained. "We have some old legends about them. They're pretty neat."

"It's super crazy to actually meet one for real, though!" Minichino exclaimed. "I have so many questions! Like, what do humans look like? What kind of cool powers do they have? What does 'fuck' mean?"

"We're lanky and kinda hairy and we stand on two legs, we have opposable thumbs and sweat, and...you're gonna have to ask Mathew on that one," Joey said.

"Oh, is Mathew one, too?" Breloom asked with great interest.

I reckon Mathew won't be happy that I shared that all willy-nilly, Joey realized to his own dismay. Well, it wasn't like he could take it back. "Uh, yeah. He's different from me though. He can actually remember being a human."

"Wait," said Minichino. "Mathew has his memories? And...you don't?"

"Uh-huh. All I have is what I know, and what I know's no good for fighting."

"All makes sense now," Politoed remarked. "SEAS got you thinking about fighting, and since you don't have past experience to draw on, now it's getting you all worked up."

"You definitely ain't wrong…huh." Joey took pause as Politoed's assessment. When he put it that way, it sounded like Joey was much more worried about succeeding than he really should be. Now that he was thinking about it...he might actually be right. Sure, he was weak now, but he had the whole Club supporting him and plenty of time to improve.

"Oh, here's an idea! Politoed's a great water type and I have a water type move myself. Maybe we could help you get better at it after work!" Speaking of support, there was Minichino backing him up!

"I reckon that would be a good idea!" he exclaimed.

"Have to start tomorrow though," Politoed said. "Breloom and I have somewhere to be after work today."

"Yeah. In the meantime, don't you worry your little head about whether you're good enough or not," Breloom advised. "SEAS might worry, but that's a company. You don't have to prove anything to the three of us. You should take things one step at a time. Maybe you could focus more on cracking that noggin, if you can. Not having memories is a pretty big deal."

The rest of the workday went by uneventfully. After Mathew returned from his failed chasing efforts, they resumed the 'game,' now with Minichino and Jermy trading the role of trash-kicker. Joey wasn't able to score many points - in fact, he probably performed the worst out of the eight of them - but he didn't mind that anymore.

He kept ruminating on what Breloom had said. She, Politoed, and Minichino were right. Worrying about being presentable to SEAS was distracting him and, ironically, prevented himself from focusing on achieving what he wanted.

One step at a time… Before Joey could hope to improve, first he had to sort out the confusion in his head. Then he could spend less time asking questions and panicking when he didn't know the answers. Perhaps it was time to revisit the gift that Mathew had given him…