Grigori had sat silent whilst Shred tried to do the talking. Tried was the correct term, as it certainly did not convince the shop owner. Each time the man opened his mouth, new definitions and strange ideas of what this was all about spilled out. Unfortunately for the pair, this unit of a pizza shop owner at least knew the general gist of what this shakedown was about. Not too many didn't nowadays. Not that Grigori disliked the use of peaceful 'negotiations' for such a job; if anything he whole-heartedly preferred it.

It did mean they had been doomed from the start. Maybe that's why he got sent here. If Shred couldn't convince the man nicely Mr. Sokolov would have to put a pretty little bow on the owner of this establishment, and then wreck his shit.

And that would ruin Grigori's day very fast.

"Mr. Shred," the man repositioned himself along the white tile wall, "I've promised someone before that I would not tell lies. This is a near-perfect, textbook definition of 'Robbery'."

The first time he spoke this entire meeting, it sounds exactly as they would expect: thick and rough accent. It also dashed whatever Shred said against the rocks. Maybe it would've been better had he remained silent.

The grunt scratched the back of his head and continued, "However, it does not matter what you call it. What matters is that you consider this proposition--"

"Because if I don't, you'll wreck my shop. What, you two share notes before coming here?"

Grigori sighed a deep sigh and stretched his neck. "No sir. Just being honest about the affair. My friend's offer is... better than the alternative."

A whole lot of nothing as well from the muscular man he had to call a partner in this endeavor. Perhaps he had another idea up his sleeves, which had remained firmly over his arms even as the summer air outside had strangled the pair on their way here. One that involved the aforementioned 'misfortune' that their 'service' promised to protect against. Maybe that's how those Team Rocket from ye olden days got it done. No fancy promises, no honeyed words. A simple fist to the face. 

---

Shred

Tch. Well. That was a massive waste of time. Gregory really threw you under the bus here, didn't he? Still, it wasn't like the diplomatic approach was getting you anywhere fast. With how things were going, it would've taken you days, if not weeks, to actually convince him to "sign up" for your little "protection service". No, really, you should be thanking him. Now, you have an excuse to stop beating around the bush. What option did you have except cutting to the chase?

"I'll be blunt, bud - Agree to the terms, or we're gonna beat the shit out of you."

With that assessment, you take a step back. Now that it's all out in the open, there's no way he's dense enough to try and reject this deal. What is he going to do? Actually say no? He's not going to win a fight two against one. He's a rat in the corner now. He's got his back against the ropes. He's done. He's finished. He's in checkmate. He's--

"FIDOUGH, GETTEM!"

A small pudgy-looking dog-thing leaps out from behind the counter, landing directly on your face. It might've hurt you, if it wasn't such a light and fluffy creature. Was this his master plan? To defeat you using this silly puppy?

"C'mon now, Luigi." You chuckle at his feeble attempt as resistance, though given that there's still a Pokemon latched on your face, it comes out rather muffled. "Did you really think you could get out of this by--"

CRUNCH!

"GYAHHHHHH!!!"

You fall down to the ground, wrestling with the Fidough, trying to rip it off your face. Yet, for such a delightful-looking beast, its teeth have sunk surprisingly deep into your face, and its grip is surprisingly tight. You pull and push and shove and drag, yet really, all you've managed to do is knead the dough. Turns out, busting this pooch is going to be surprisingly difficult. You can only hope that Gregory is holding down the fort while you're busy removing this canine facehugger...

---

Grigori Sokolov

Grigori tensed up at the command from the shop owner 'Luigi'. However, once he watched the creature leap out from behind the front counter and firmly plant itself onto Shred, his concern melted much like cheese in a pizza oven. Apprehension was quickly replaced with curiosity. Fidough were known for their elasticity and soft qualities. At least, Grigori knew: those fairy-type pokemon were always a wonder to simply watch and study. Did Shred know the same?

Absolutely not. Much became clear as his agonized cries from beneath the living pile of dough did little to actually pry of the creature. His desperate hands sunk into its body with no effect. A good teammate would've taken the time to help pry the creature off of the man, or send out one of his pokemon to do the same. After all, this was a joint effort and one half writhed on the floor, under attack from a surprisingly vicious creature. 

"What a lovely shop you had here," Grigori calmly stated. His pushed off against the back wall and closed the distance between him and Luigi. If he could just get over to the shop owner, he could get a 'yes' from him. "Unfortunately, I am now required to 'wreck it', as you so beautifully put it earlier."

"We'll see about that, fuckface. Appletun, mess him up!"

Another pokemon emerged from the hidden area known as 'behind the counter'. A rotund, green and brown blob hobbled out and faced Grigori head on. It made him stop in his tracks halfway to Luigi, a small frown now on his face. "This is certainly in theme, but perhaps not a great one to bring out. Any of its special attacks will decimate your lobby, right?"

However, the Appletun did nothing of the sort. Instead, it hopped into the air. The first one barely got it an inch off the ground. The second one got it about a foot high. The third one--

Got it clear over the tables, and right into Grigori's chest. Both him and the pokemon went flying backwards, back into the wall he had leaned against prior. It felt like he had been hit with a car, crushed against a tree to never rise again. He would very much live, but tomorrow would suck. The grunt wiped the trickle of blood from his lips and rose back up. "I would quit while you're ahead, sir. Pumpkin, please keep the Appletun off my back."

A red and white glow materialized from the thing air. A massless form took shape, then took form and mass as a Pawniard appeared on Grigori's left. Directly between its trainer and the Appletun, it clashed it's knife hands against each other and charged the pie pokemon. Grigori, meanwhile, approached Howard and reached a hand towards the Fidough. "Hold still, Shred."

---

Shred

After what felt like an eternity of grappling with the pooch, you finally manage to get it off your face with the assistance of Grigori. The first thing you do is take a deep breath. The second thing you do is immediately hurl the dog away from you and into the nearest wall. Finally, the third thing you do is feel your face, and boy, does it not feel good. Very wet, and you're certain that's not because of saliva. There's definitely holes, too, and they're messy ones to boot. Oh, and it all fucking hurts.

"TOXTRICITY! FUCKING ICE THAT MUTT!"

You slam your hand onto one of the six Pokeballs hanging off your belt, calling forth your ace. Or, at least, that's the intention. But it seems that you must've misremembered which Pokemon was in which Pokeball, because the creature that emerges from the flash of red light isn't Toxtricity. Instead, what emerges is...

"Don't worry, boss...! I'll gettem...!"

Before you can even begin to process the mistake you've made, Slowbro raises up its Shell Side Arm, and unleashes a barrage of poorly-aimed bullets in just about any and every direction, aiming be damned. Blasts of poisonous energy pierce walls, shatter glass, and send loosely-hung decor tumbling to the ground. And despite the sheer quantity of shots being fired, this relentless assault seems to be hitting everything except the Fidough.

Well, at least he's wrecking the shop, right? That counts for something.

---

Grigori Sokolov

Grigori flinched violently as the doughy-dog pokemon slammed into the nearest wall, courtesy of Shred. He watched it slide down, settle at the bottom, then slowly reform itself into the normal shape over the course of a few seconds. Seconds Shred spent on his declaration of intent while a red glow filled the room.

This was not a Toxtricity. This was a Slowbro. Galar variety? The henchman did not bother to confirm as he quickly grabbed a hold of Shred's collar and dragged him behind a table, which he quickly upturned into a makeshift barricade against the onslaught of the pokemon's attacks. A small part of him hoped that it's aim was truly as bad as it seemed, if only for the sake of the adorable creature they had to subdue.

"Well, I must thank you for accomplishing what I set out to do earlier. I'll thank you by helping out on your end of the promise," he said. Shred would have the perfect view of the Pawniard and Appletun as they duked it out, both of which looked to be on equal terms. Sure, they also 'fucked shit up' tremendously, as chairs shattered underneath missed strikes and tables fell apart in the scuffle. Neither were able to best the other, though, so they kept at it. Meanwhile, Grigori peaked up at the ensuing carnage that the Slowbro caused.

The Fidough was safe. Thank goodness. The shop owner, a Luigi, looked rather upset at the destruction of his shop. Arms pressed against the side of his head, he looked back and forth between the two pairs that slowly yet surely destroyed all the furniture and upholstery.

Was it better to ensure that no more pokemon joined the fray? Or was a head-on assault a better idea? Maybe the best course of action involved a little bit of both. Perhaps a better question was if Shred could uphold his end of a strategy? "Mr. Shred, I have a proposal. You keep pressure on the pokemon at hand, and I'll go for Mr. Luigi. We'll go on three. One..."

Wait, what? He had just said the plan, how the hell could Shred be expected to react on such a short notice?! Grigori, on the other hand, grabbed hold of the edge of the table up above. Muscles bunched up, ready to act. "Two."

"Three!" Grigori shouted. He wasted no time in vaulting the makeshift barricade and making a mad dash for the shop owner. He pushed past upturned chairs and scattered debris. A few meters from the counter, he bent down and jumped at Luigi. It must've been a wonderful sight: one beefcake in a state of anguish and surprise, the other a pillar of calm and fortitude midair, arms outstretched to grab the shop owner and pummel him within an inch of his life.

---

@shredzepplin

"WHAT THE--"

Luigi doesn't have the chance to get another word out, as Grigori proceeds to crash directly into him. That just leaves you to hold up your end of the bargain, and that means keeping the pressure on the Pokemon. As long as you can keep Appletun and Fidough distracted, then the big lad over there will have plenty of time to pummel that bastard. Granted, you've already been on the wrong end of that rabid mutt once, and you have no idea how you'd even begin to grapple with that oversized fruit.

But you don't need "ideas" or "thinking", because you're absolutely furious. You don't even wait for the three count before lunging for the dragon, taking it off-guard as you grab it from behind. Then, weaving between wooden shrapnel and toxic bullets, you drag the struggling beast over to the still-recovering Fidough, before hoisting the Appletun up high.

"GO TO HELL AND DIE!"

SMASH! Apple is slammed into dough at high speed, and the world's first and worst living apple pie is formed. It's cathartic, it's effective, but it doesn't make your face hurt any less, so it's a pyrrhic victory. This might be revenge, but you've served it lukewarm. Tch, you're going to need to get rabies shots after this, aren't you? What a pain in your ass...

---

Grigori Sokolov

As soon as the pair hit the ground, Grigori wasted zero seconds, zero moments. While Luigi recoiled from the sudden impact, he would have to contend with a powerful fist, right into his face. Violent, heavy, it slammed into his nose. Unfortunately, he couldn't react to the second blow either, aimed at the exact same place.

Grigori felt bone give way underneath, but that just meant he had hit correctly enough. Luigi managed to cover his face for the next few strikes, but the damage had already been done. However, the grunt then aimed for the chest of the shop owner.

All the while Shred handled the pokemon, Grigori 'took care' of the main threat. Thunderous punches and painful jabs rained down in measured yet disastrous strikes. As if he had the art of 'beating the shit out of someone' down to an exact science. Enough effort to get the point across, yet held back so that the recipient would not get knocked out cold immediately.

After roughly thirty seconds of strait wailing, Grigori left his arms fall to his sides and heaved several deep breaths. Luigi looked much worse for wear, with numerous groans and grunts of pain. Slowly, he stood up.

"I apologize," he said as he rose from the ground, "for I am terribly effective at my job. As I said, the alternative was less than desirable."

He wiped spit from the corner of his mouth and looked over to Shred. Looked like he too had succumb to the violent impulses, considering the mess of doughy bits and the green-and-brown pokemon that rested in the middle of it all. Ouch. The grunt hoped the pokemon were alright.

"How do you feel, Shred?" he asked. While the answer looked obvious, it was important to ask regardless. The last thing he wanted was his partner to lie, only to keel over after five minutes of unpreturbed, internal bleeding. "Need any more assitance, medical or otherwise?"

If it weren't for the straight face Grigori held, he'd appear caring and concerned for the well-being of his partner.

---

Shred

"I'm fuckin' peachy, mate."

You're fucking pissed and in intense pain, but you're not dead, so you suppose you can't complain. At the very least, you're just about done here. Luigi's been taken care of, his Pokemon have been disabled, and Slowbro has done a bang-up job of filling this pizzeria with bullet holes. Speaking of which, you quickly recall the gunslinger before he can fire off another wayward shot. He might've well done his job, but he also did it as loud as possible. No doubt all the racket was going to attract some unwelcome attention, and you definitely don't want to be around when the pigs show up.

"Alright, you fat fuck." You hiss, leaning over to counter to leer down at the wounded man. "We're off. You got twenty-four hours to accept our terms, or else we'll be back soon. Ta."

With that, you step backward, sparing a glance over to Grigori, before making a vague gesture towards the iron wall of a man and the exit door.

"C'mon, let's get out of here."

---

Grigori Sokolov
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Grigori mimicked Shred, and retreated his own pokemon. "If you insist."

Not only did the grunt not have the time to press further, it also felt like a bad time to do so regardless. If he had been the one attacked by the Fidough, the last thing he'd want to hear is 'hey I know you just got mauled by a pile of dough and look like shit but you should really think about opening up and going to the hospital immediately'.

He also wouldn't want to get rabies, either. 

The grunt nodded at his partner, "Sounds like a splendid plan, Mr. Shred."

Grigori placed a hand onto Shred's shoulder and walked together with him towards the exit. His day had certainly not been improved from this, but this could've also ended a million times worse than it had. Probably good to look at the bright side while he could.

Which meant 'before the adrenaline wore off'. That Appletun was no joke.

---

Shred


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