Season One, Episode 3
Dream Eater
There's a lone Poke Ball sitting on a nightstand. A few seconds pass, and if we look close enough, it's easy to tell this is not a real Poke Ball. Suddenly, it begins vibrating, pops open, and a Pidgey on a spring shoots out. It's an alarm clock. We see a hand reach down and smack it back shut. We pan out to see a man in bed, in a small enclosed attic-like space. He's dark-skinned, pudgy looking, and wearing boxer shorts.
We follow him into another room - a bathroom - where he brushes his teeth. He walks out again, reaches into an open dresser, and pulls out some dark clothes. Piece by piece, he puts on the telltale uniform of Team Rocket. He reaches for a hat hanging on a mirror and puts it on his head.
He goes downstairs, opens a refrigerator, and pulls out some eggs. Step by step, he proceeds to fry them in a skillet. Across his shoulder, we can see outside a window - an idyllic cliff overlooking the sea. A woman leans on a fence, staring into the distance.
Our Rocket grunt sits down, eats his eggs, and fiddles around with a model scene of a lighthouse on the table. Finally, he finishes, puts his food up, and heads outside to stand guard.
Jennifer, the woman on the fence, turns to face him as she hears the door open. The two share a wave before going about their business. There's a moment of silence until the sound of an automobile can be heard coming down the road.
The large, white, late model car drives down the road. The grunt squints as it drives closer. His hand naturally hovers over a lone Poke Ball - a real one this time - at his waist. The car comes to a stop right next to the small cabin the grunt is guarding and out comes its driver - Saul Goodman.
The two men exchange glances as Saul walks by the guard and towards Jennifer.
Saul: This is the kind of company you keep?
Jennifer: Never can be too careful. How's Saffron?
Saul: Just got off the phone with a client who put his dick inside a Tauros, what's that tell ya? C'mon, why'd you invite me all the way out here?
Jennifer smiles at Saul for a second, contemplating something.
Jennifer: He put his…?
Saul (interrupting her): Attorney-client privilege. I'd tell ya…
He pulls a mock finger gun on her.
Saul: But then I'd have to kill ya.
Jennifer: You know, I think half the reason why I keep you around is because you're so much fun.
She hops on the fence, sitting, one leg crossed over the other, as Saul makes himself comfortable, looking out at the sea beyond.
Saul: The view's incredible. Did he pay for this?
They spend a second admiring the view. Saul's question goes unanswered.
Jennifer (ignoring him): We have a lead on something. Might be our biggest move yet.
Saul: Well, I'm not listening, but if you just-so-happened to mumble about your machiavellian scheme for a bit, the folds of my brain may generate some legal advice. No promises, though.
Jennifer: Kanto's own Professor Oak is working on a research project near Lavender Town. There's some Pokemon trainer overseeing it on the Indigo League's end. Lots of big names.
Saul: Usually means a big haul. So what's got the good Professor's panties in a wad this time?
Jennifer: Dragonair. Apparently a small colony of them are swimming up Route 12. They're rare in that neck of the woods.
Saul: Dragonair…what's so special about a Dragonair?
Jennifer: Nothing, especially. Until they evolve.
Saul rests his chin on his hand, contemplating what she just said. His brows raise.
Saul: A Dragonite?
He scoffs.
Saul: The hell is anyone going to do with a Dragonite? You can see one coming a mile away.
Jennifer: They're power houses. Ever heard of a hyper-beam?
Saul: Look, I leave all the Pokemon logistics to you people. I'm just a small-town Pidgey lawyer, trying to make his way in the big city.
Jennifer: Well…what if I told you one blast from a Dragonite's hyper-beam could power a city like Saffron for over a month?
Saul furrows his brow a bit. Something about this clearly makes him uncomfortable.
Saul: So where do I come in?
We're back in Saffron. Front and center is a park bench. Someone's sleeping on it - their back facing us. Groggily, they turn over - it's Troy. He sits up, checks a watch that isn't there, and looks over at something in the distance. Around him, people play with their Pokemon, enjoy nice morning walks. Troy isn't here for pleasure though. He looks rough. We pan over to a tree in the distance to see Saul leaning on it. Waving casually.
He walks on over and looks down at Troy.
Saul: You mind if I…?
Without waiting for an answer, he plants a seat next to Troy and looks around the park, wringing his hands.
A woman jogs past with her Vulpix.
Saul: The ass on that one, huh?
Troy: You…you're the lawyer.
Saul: I'm your lawyer! I would ask how you've been, but from the looks of things the past year hasn't been good to you.
Troy opens his mouth to speak, but Saul interrupts.
Saul: No worries. I've been there. My second wife threw me out so her big, bad Gym Leader step-brother could move in. Life doesn't play fair.
He chuckles and gives Troy a friendly pat on the shoulder.
Saul: So we don't either!
Troy: What…what do you want?
Saul: Oh, what, I'm not allowed to have a friendly reunion with my client?
He laughs awkwardly, but Troy gives him the silent treatment.
Saul: Look, kid, clearly you're in need of…employment. I've got a job needs doing, and my…associates…think you'd be a good match.
Troy: Your associates? The 'R' people?
Saul: 'R' people? Oh! Yeah! The card. Sorry, I'm not in charge of marketing - just legal counsel. Yeah…the 'R' people.
Troy: Do they know I have a record? Everyone else seems to.
Saul: That's the great thing about these guys, kid. They know. They just don't care.
Troy stares blankly. Unsure of what to do or say. Clearly, he's been looking for a chance.
Saul: Hey. I've got a handful of P.I.'s out there. They know you've put in for work. They know you're not getting it. All that information comes to me. You paid me to help you, so now I'm returning the favor - with interest. Because you do a good job for this crew? You might not ever need another one.
Troy: What do I have to do?
Patrick Kuby - red-haired, balding - dices some vegetables in his kitchen. As we pan out, we see he's clearly planning an elaborate meal. His pet Eevee runs around, playing with a ball toy and nipping at his heels.
Kuby: Woah! Easy girl, easy!
He laughs as he moves the veggies into a refrigerator behind him. A knock is heard outside his front door. He moves to answer it, thinks twice about halfway to the door, runs back to a table and grabs a Poke-Ball. He grips it firmly behind him with one hand and opens the door with the other.
Across the threshold on the other side - is Troy.
Kuby: Hey! There he is! Come on in, buddy.
He moves around so Troy doesn't see the Poke-Ball. Then, stealthily places it on an end table by his couch.
Troy looks around, amazed at the man's nice house.
Troy: This house is really big.
Kuby: Yeah? I appreciate that. Hard work pays off, ya know?
Troy awkwardly moves around the living room, unsure of himself.
Kuby: Our mutual friend said you were coming over for dinner. I've got an Unovan girl, cooks for me, cleans, but sometimes I like to get my hands dirty.
Kuby moves into the kitchen and checks on the oven.
Kuby: My dad loved to cook. You know, he'd cook, and clean. My mom would do all the yard work. It was a real role reversal kinda thing, ya know?
Troy stands there, looking around.
Kuby: It's Troy, right? Jesus Christ, you're makin' me nervous. Let's sit down! We can talk while the meal prep finishes.
They sit on the couch, and the Eevee comes to play with Troy. He smiles as he scratches it behind its ears.
Troy: Cute Pokemon.
Kuby: Oh, yeah, she's great. Got her playing slots.
Troy looks at Kuby, a little confused. He throws his hands up in mock surrender.
Kuby: I know, I know - it was…a little off the books. But, hey -
He picks up his Pokemon and babies it a little.
Kuby: She's in a good home.
He lets the Eevee down and stretches out on the couch a bit.
Kuby: I feel like I'm doin' all the talking here. Tell me about yourself. Why do you wanna work with Team Rocket?
Troy: Team…Rocket?
Kuby grins.
Kuby: That sonuvabitch didn't even tell you, did he? Bet he gave you some business card with an 'R' on it and you cashed it in as a favor.
Troy looks at Kuby, nervous that he's in a mess he knows nothing about.
Troy: I was arrested. Saul helped me and he, uh, he told me you had work. I've been out of a job for over a year now. I'm good with my hands, good with tools.
Kuby: You got experience with Pokemon?
Troy: Yeah, I used to have a Pokemon.
Kuby laughs at this.
Kuby: Just the one? Jesus! You're greener than Bulbasaur shit, ain't ya? Well let me fill you in on something. Team Rocket, we're not a bunch of thugs. We don't go to jail because we don't get caught. We don't get caught…because we don't do anything wrong. You understand me on that point?
Troy: I think so.
Kuby: You gotta quit thinkin' and start knowin', dude. This is a peacekeeping organization that wants to restructure the entire world.
Troy: So is this like, a cult?
Kuby: A what? No. No, nothing like is an organization with a philosophy. But you don't need to know the philosophy - you just gotta follow orders. I mean, I'm a grunt, dude. I'm low man on the totem pole. But you see this - my lifestyle - and you see that what I'm offering is an opportunity. If you can handle Pokemon, and you can follow orders, and you can keep your mouth shut…
He extends his hand to Troy.
Kuby: …Then we can have a very serious conversation about your place in our organization.
Troy hesitates. He slightly turns his head towards the door. He could run now if he wanted to - he has no clue what he's gotten himself into.
Kuby: You want to leave, don't you? You think I'm a crook. You wanna know how long it took me to get this offer? I trained for three years. You get an outta jail free card from the world's most flamboyant pussy-hound lawyer, he puts in a good word for ya, and now you're getting this handshake deal on day one. You are a lucky son of a gun, Troy. Or..
He gestures towards the door.
Kuby: Maybe you're a dumb mother fucker. And the lawyer made a mistake.
There's hesitancy on Troy's part. But he reaches out and shakes Kuby's hand. He makes the deal.
Kuby: Awesome.
He stands up, heads towards the kitchen.
Kuby: You like beer? Maybe some wine? I like to celebrate.
Troy: Beer is fine.
Kuby takes a knife from a rack and checks the oven again.
Kuby: You smell that? That's the prep work payin' off. That's hard work.
Troy: Yeah, it smells good. What are we having?
Kuby grabs a beer out of the fridge and passes it to Troy. The Eevee follows Troy into the kitchen as he looks at the dishes set out for the meal. He looks at the china, the chandelier hanging above the table. There is an extravagance to this guy's lifestyle. And he said he was just a grunt.
He turns around and sees Kuby holding the Eevee by its hind legs. It squirms, trying to free itself.
We switch perspectives to over Kuby's shoulder. We don't see the blood and guts of the thing, but we see him slide the knife across the Pokemon's belly.
Troy looks in absolute horror, tears forming in his eyes. He breathes heavily.
Kuby holds up the Eevee, a wide grin on his face.
Kuby: Bon appetit!