let's be real, doug doesn't keep up with the news. but when even @cuteskittypics is talking about slateport, even he hears about it. maybe he should care more about current events, given his fancy new cadet status, but whatever. he only really enlisted because everyone was doing it, like those lame anti-smoking pledges everyone did when they were in fifth grade. 

nah, he's got shit to do. like run a counter. 

"your total is $190, thanks for choosing pokemart," he drones, handing the girl her change and bag. as soon as she steps away, he nods shortly at the next guy in line. kinda scary looking fellow, but doug's seen people come in with grimer chemical burns and faces bubbled up after a beedrill attacks. oh yeah, he's seen some shit. "this all it'll be today? okay - "

and then there's an explosion outside and all hell breaks loose. 

frantically, doug drops the barcode scanner and looks frantically between the young woman who's just run in sobbing and this wild-looking man with the blue hair. "uhhh." shit. should he call the police? 

"uhh - your total is is, uh, $80.. should we, like, do something?"

there are some people who are born great leaders, and some people who are molded into them. doug, on the other hand, has always prided himself as an excellent follower. he’d really wanted this mans to take up the reins, and lack of surety makes his movements slow to get out behind the counter.

wait, did this guy even pay for his stuff?! okay, whatever, he’ll figure it out later.

“hey, it’s all right, you can stay in here,” he pats the woman nervously on the shoulder. “help yourself, to, uh, any supplies y’might need,” doug offers a kind smile.

then there’s another blast outside that rattles the doorframe, just a few feet away from where doug’s standing, and he jumps. it sounds closer than before. swallowing down his nervousness, doug strides to the door and pushes it open.

outside, it seems like most civilians have cleared the streets. the source of the noise comes a few buildings down, where a masked team rocket grunt watches his rydon pick up boulders littering the rustboro streets and throw them around willy-nilly, occasionally shouting threats at passerby and shopkeepers.

duck steps outside and shakes a fist, now more annoyed than anything. just one dude making an absolute mess of the place. fuckin' inconsiderate, it is. guy must be from mauville or somewhere similarly barbaric.

“hey! hey, could ya keep the noise down?! watch where you’re throwing that shit, will ya?”

in a world run by pokemon, a guy who’s absolutely horrible at pokemon training needs to be somewhat better at other things. while doug can’t handle or command pokemon for shit, he’s at least a physically abled young man in his twenties, so when he spots the mass of rock and debris now hurtling at him, he jumps out of the way and pulls sableye with him.

“bro, watch it!” he yells, but a bit more tinged with futility than last time. clearly, this guy’s beyond reason. what is team rocket even doing?! “calm down, man, whaddya want from me?” doug raises his hands, palms out.

by his side, while he’s not watching, sableye takes action on his own. the little dark-type scrambles along the side of the street until it’s closer – and then, doug’s eyes widen when he sees what sableye’s about to do. “sableye, don’t you dare – ”

sableye shoots a CONFUSE RAY at the rampaging rhydon. if anything, the rock type only seems to get angrier – but hey, at least it doesn’t seem too concerned about listening to its owner, anymore.

doug scrambles forward and grabs sableye, before ducking for cover behind an upturned park bench. “what did ya have to go and do that for?” he scolds, before yelling a warning to his apparently ally, who’s on track for a nasty concussion – “’ey! behind ya!”

really, pokemon were so dangerous. how people managed to domesticate wild ones and turn them into housepets in the span of a single generation was a mystery to him.

but either way, this guy was clearly not domesticated well enough, because it starts trampling and rampaging for real. doug’s eyes widen – he had once seen a street brawl where a tiny geodude used earthquake and leveled a nidoking twice its size. even its trainer, the rocket grunt, is knocked to the side and hits a building with a sickening crack.

running purely on adrenaline, doug drops sableye, who clings to his leg anyway, and sprints forward. he feels rocks and debris hit his face and scratch his temples, but miraculously avoids losing his footing, until grabs the rocket grunt’s arm and slings him over his back. “aight, let’s go, my guy.”

he frantically searches for an awning of some sort, anything that could provide cover. bits of the street begin flying off in chunks, and doug makes the split-second decision to drag himself, sableye, and the guy over to a fallen doorframe, door swinging on its hinge.

gently, doug places the grunt down and keeps his head shielded as the rocket flutters his eyes closed. bits of rock pelt them from all sides, but thankfully the door is sturdy. doug hazards a glance and searches what remains of the street for the customer from earlier, but the streets are too much of a mess to see clearly.

doug glances back at sableye instead: “sableye, use quash on that rhydon!”

maybe it’s because of his more authoritative tone, but sableye actually listens for once. sableye hops out from behind the doorway and leaps from doorway to telephone pole before he’s once again right behind the rampaging ground-type – and sends a blast of psychic energy that suppresses the rhydon. hopefully the blue-haired man’s smart enough to get himself out of harm’s way with time he’s bought.

TL;DR doug grabs the rocket grunt, now unconscious, and puts him in a safer place, sableye uses quash on the rhydon which gives fernando time to respond.