From: Roberto Perez-Vila <RobfromVoid@prodigy.net> Subject: [PW!] Strangers in the Night Date: Saturday, September 25, 1999 9:00 PM In the late afternoon, Luthor, the Slowpoke takes one more step and he stands before the giant golden doors of the renown Viridian City Gym, its high Corinthian columns making the short pink Pokemon look even smaller in comparison. He stands before four large boot clad feet belonging to two big burly men dressed in Roman combat gear. Luthor looks up at them and declares, "Let me enter, goons. From the looks of this place, I am quite certain this Palace belongs to the Great Caesar's Ghost that Perry White, Clark Kent's boss, keeps referring to in my comic books." The two guards cross their halberds and chant, "No one may enter without seven badges, by order of the Boss." Luthor narrows his eyes at the two large humans, "Who is this 'Boss?' Is it Great Caesar's ghost?" "Sorry, but our Boss doesn't want us to tell you that he's the leader of Team Rocket." One of the guards declares. The other one nods once, "Yeah, and he especially doesn't want us to tell you that his name is Giovanni." "Whoever your Boss is, he is no match for the power and might of Luthor!" Luthor cackles, showing off how mighty he is by standing on his hind legs. He grabs Clayface's Pokeball and tosses it out, "Clayface, break the doors open!" The large messy pile of purple filth known as a Grimer appears in front of the doors, his arms raised high, as if he is about to crash them down upon the golden doors at any moment. However, his disgusting, dripping arms never crash down anywhere. They remain up high, as if that is the only position that they can be held in, "Grrrrrimer! Griiiimerrrrr!!!" The guard on the left and the guard on the right simultaneously crush Clayface with their right and left foot, respectively. They wipe off the sludge under their boots on the "Not Welcome" mat in front of the doors, then return to their positions. Clayface, which has been splattered everywhere, starts reforming ever so gradually. Luthor grows impatient with the reformation and recalls the Pokemon. All the purple mess scattered about the ground turns into red energy and gets sucked into the Pokeball, which is then placed back on Luthor's belt. Luthor declares, "Mark my words, I shall return when I have psychic powers beyond your wildest imagination to crush you both *and* your puny Boss. Bwa... ha... ha... ha..." Luthor continues to laugh maniacally as he slowly walks away. He notices one of the signs on a nearby building says "Brock's Diner." He doesn't recognize the first word on the sign, but he knows that the second one means "a place where humans serve food." The Slowpoke's tummy rumbles. * Two hours later, Luthor sits on a stool in Brock's Diner. It's time for dinner. * Luthor reads a publicity shirt off a nearby souvenir rack, "Can you smell what the Brock is cooking?" The Slowpoke sniffs the air, then replies to the inanimate object, "No, I cannot, foolish shirt." Five seconds later, Luthor changes his mind, "Nevermind. Now I can." Luthor stamps the bar with his paw, "I demand service, pathetic female humans!" No one responds. Luthor then notices the commotion at the entrance. Many young waitresses flock around a certain middle aged individual in a fancy red suit who has a Persian on a red leash. The seemingly important man sits down next to Luthor at the bar, and his Persian leaps onto the stool next to his master, opposite the Slowpoke. The middle aged man complains, "You'd think they've never seen a Gym Leader before. I hear that Brock never gets this much attention. Perhaps if I started a location called Giovanni's Lollipop Shop the masses would cease hounding me for an autograph." Giovanni pets his Persian, which purrs in response, "Perrrr....Perrsssiaan..." Luthor tilts his head towards the man in the fancy red suit, "Are you talking to me? Are you talking to me? You must be talking to me, because I don't see anybody else here." Giovanni looks down at the Slowpoke next to him, a thin eyebrow raising showing his interest, "I always get that line. For some strange reason, people associate me with the Mafia. But I've never gotten that line from a Slowpoke until today." "What line?" Luthor looks a little confused, "I just made that up right now." A very buxom waitress in a very small white blouse and very short black shirt runs up to Giovanni, "Ooooh, Mista' Giovanni, sir! What an honor it is to be servin' the local Gym Leader! What will ya be havin' on this fine evenin'?" "You think that I would eat the garbage served here?!" Giovanni looks outraged as he asks the rhetorical question, "Give me your finest meal for my Persian. He isn't very finicky, so your restaurant's so-called filet mignon should suffice." "Y-y-yes... sir..." The waitress jots something down and runs away, holding back tears. Giovanni turns his attention back to Luthor, "I could use a talking Pokemon in my organization. Interested?" "The only thing that I am interested in..." Luthor shows a wide evil grin, "...is world domination!" Giovanni laughs calmly under his breath, "Then we have something in common, Slowpoke. If it weren't for that pesky kid who saved Silph Co. the one time I tried invading it some years ago, I would rule the world by now." Luthor and Giovanni both raise their fists simultaneously and shout, "Curse those blasted super heroes!" The two megalomaniacs stare at each other for a long moment, then smile and shake hands. Luthor says, "The name's Luthor." "Giovanni, the leader of the Viridian City Gym, among other titles." The middle aged man grins wickedly, "If you ever make it big, Luthor, we can join forces to rule the world together." "That sounds wonderful." Luthor nods, thinking of betrayal at the very same time that Giovanni thinks about it. The buxom waitress walks up to Giovanni and places a plate with filet mignon on it on the bar, "That'll be 500..." "Charge it to the Viridian Gym." Giovanni waves his hand. He takes the plate and puts it on the floor. His Persian leaps off the stool and licks the meat once, pauses to make out the taste, then sticks his tongue out in disgust, "Sian!" Giovanni narrows his eyes at the waitress, "My Persian doesn't like the taste. I'm feeling generous tonight, but if I ever decide come back to this Diner and my Persian finds the meals unsatisfactory, I'm closing down this establishment. Goodnight." Giovanni stands, grabs his Persian's leash, and starts to head towards the door without a hint of anger. Luthor shouts to him before he can leave, "Wait! How will I be able to get in touch with you again, Giovanni?" Giovanni considers how valuable a talking Slowpoke might be, then considers sending some of his "people" to capture Luthor. Giovanni responds, "Don't worry, Luthor. I'm sure that we'll meet again soon. Very soon. Goodnight." The middle aged man and his Persian exit Brock's Diner, and enter the limousine ready for them outside. Luthor looks up at the weeping waitress who has disappointed Giovanni, "Excuse me, water works, I require food." The waitress sneers at Luthor, "Ya got any money, Pokemon?" "Money?" Luthor looks offended, "Do I look like a mere bank robber to you? I am Luthor, soon to be the greatest villain of all time! I refuse to lower myself to the level of a masked crook that super heroes beat in one punch." The waitress rolls her eyes, "No money, no service. Go forage for some food, Pokemon." She storms away. Luthor waves his paw at her, "You will pay for your insolence when I rule the world!" The Slowpoke slides down the side of the stool, then notices the plate with filet mignon that Giovanni's Persian left. Luthor shakes his head indignantly, "I refuse to eat food that has been licked by a Persian..." Luthor's stomach grumbles louder than before, "Well, it was a *clean* Persian. I bet that Persian's rear end is cleaner than that woman's hands." Being too hungry to even rationalize further, Luthor falls on all four legs and begins to lick the tender meat off of the plate on the ground. -Luthor