In an ideal world, you never would've had to call in the favour that Oscar Clayton owed you. In an ideal world, it would've slipped your mind one day, you'd never remember it, and you would've forgotten about it entirely. But this isn't the ideal world, is it? No, in fact, you'd call this the opposite of ideal, and that's why you need to call in this favour.

Simply put, you've lost your arm, and you need a replacement. As much as you'd like to think you could adjust to your missing limb, every passing day proves that just isn't possible. You're fighting against forty-one years of your own muscle memory, and it's become increasingly clear that you're losing. So, why keep fighting? You don't need to. Team Rocket has a whole swathe of scientists and engineers in their ranks, and you've got the ability to order them around.

Why keep fighting when you can get a genius to fight for you?

That's why you're here in the late hours of the night, entering Oscar's private laboratory. He gets a whole private laboratory, all to himself? Well, given he's the one who invented of all this Genesect tech, you suppose this is the least he deserves. You really need to get your hands on one of those... But you can figure that out later. First priority is rearming yourself.

Rearming yourself. Heh.

After taking a moment to appreciate your little joke, you shift your focus back to the matter at hand. Heh, matter at hand... Ahem! Anyway, you knock three times upon the metal laboratory door, then take a step back, crossing your arms as you... Fuck, yeah, only one arm, huh? Can't really "cross arms" when all you've got is arm. Just doesn't work.

...Damn.

---

oscar clayton
POST TSDT

Oscar opened the door, initially elated to see Shred before realizing that he was fucked beyond recognition. His face strained as he tried to maintain a smile and not become concerned, not everyone was comfortable with Oscar's doting--especially people he barely knew. "Shred! Good to see you--I mean in general not like um--come in!"

Oscar got out of the way and allowed Shred to step inside his appropriated lair. It was full of half finished gadgets and doodas but none of that shit mattered right now. The important thing was the metal arm sitting on a table that Oscar had pulled up front and center. The arm was once again resting on its stand, its palm facing toward the ceiling. The polished metal plating shined brightly under the lab's lights, no doubt part of its purposeful placement.

Hefty wires were coiled from the arm's shoulder, connecting into a laptop that sat at the edge of the table. Oscar parked himself in front of the laptop and gestured to the arm. "Ta-da! Neat huh? I built it by copying the tech that made Genesect's arms. The plating is made by the same alloy as Genesect, one hundred percent melted steel pokemon. Specifically scizor since it was the most flexible. Thank Aurelie Lefevre for that discovery." Oscar tapped a few keys on his laptop, and the hand would react by fluidly performing several finger curls. "Full range of motion, with easy access into the inner tech to make repairs if needed. It was originally meant for me so it's as fuckin' good as it gets."

Oscar performed a few more keystrokes and the arm went still. He patted the prosthesis's forearm and leaned against the table. "Before we talk about the hard part, what do you think?"

Shred

You're not surprised by Oscar stumbling over his words. Why would you be? You're not an idiot. You know how bad you look. If you were him, you'd be put off by the sight of yourself, too.

That doesn’t mean you have to like it, though.

As you wordlessly step into the laboratory, you immediately take the chance to glance around the room. You're not sure what you're supposed to be looking for, though. Maybe you're hoping to see that generator you nabbed being put to good use? As your eyes scan over unfinished project after unfinished project, however, that hope dies an ignoble death. But whatever minor disappointment you might've felt in that moment is quickly replaced when you lay eyes on the artificial limb in the middle of the room.

Oscar sure works fast, you'll give him that. Being able to put this together in only a few hours is a real impressive feat... Oh, he was originally making it for himself? Huh. That takes the shine off. Makes it feel more like a hand-me-down than a piece of cutting edge technology. Why would he even need a prosthetic, anyway? He's still got all his limbs. What was he gonna do, cut one off...? Weird.

"Not bad." You take a few steps closer to the device, marvelling as it demonstrates its capacity for both swift and precise movement. It's durable, it's flexible, and it's convenient. No doubt, it's an impressive piece of tech. "Not bad at all."

And then, your tone shifts.

"But if this is as good as its gets, then it's not good enough."

Reaching into your jacket pocket, you pull out a severed metal limb, and toss it towards the scientist. Closer inspection reveals it to belong to one of the mechanized Paradox Pokemon - Iron Valiant, to be specific.

Oscar might've invented the best robotic arm of the modern era, but the future was already here.

---

oscar clayton

Oscar felt pretty smug about his cybernetic prosthesis. It was indeed the height of artificial limb technology, the culmination of years of research concentrated into one perfect product. It has been sitting in a closet for a year sure, but it was still top of the line no doubt about it.

Then Shred took a big shit on it. Oscar caught the severed Iron Valiant arm, his eye twitching as his affable facade cracked. "What the fuck did you say?" He said, holding back uncharacteristic irritation. He held the futuristic arm aloft, gazing at how it shined against his laboratory's lighting. Oscar's mouth squirmed like a worm, despite its damaged condition this piece of machinery was flawless. And from the future to boot!?

Oscar took a long minute to process what he was seeing, his mind churning like a slot machine as it decided how to react. Eventually, his squirming mouth would wrench itself into a frenzied grin. He began to laugh, a deep chuckle that grew into a harsh guffaw. "Oh Shred--what a gift you've provided me!"

He pressed the Iron Valiant arm against his own prosthesis, his widened eyes shaking with euphoric glee. "Give me forty eight fuckin' hours and I'll make the greatest piece of cybernetic machinery known to man! Your arm will be so advanced that they'll write fuckin' papers about it! You're gonna be the trillion dollar man Shred, and it'll just be your god damn arm!" Oscar grabbed both arms and pressed them against his chest. He was not asking permission.

"Now kindly get the fuck out, I got work to do."

Shred

It seems you've managed to light a fire under Oscar. You're cautiously optimistic, key word being "cautiously". Best case scenario, you're getting a bigger and better prosthetic out of this. Worst case? You get stabbed in your sleep for daring to insinuate that his work might be inferior. But hey, you're a gambling man. You'll take that risk.

So, with a wordless nod, you turn around and leave. You walk right out of the laboratory, through the medical bay, and back into your hospital bed. Then, you wait. Forty-eight excruciating hours come and go, but before you know it, you're right back where you began - Heading to meet Oscar in his lab.

Hopefully, he hasn't gotten himself blown up in the interim. That'd be a real pain in the ass.

That aside, you approach the iron door for a second time, knock twice, and take a step back. Time to get a glimpse of the "trillion dollar man" that you'll become.

---

oscar clayton

No one came to the door. If one tried to open it themselves, they would find the door to be locked. By now, faint noises could be heard from within the lab. The grinding of metal, the lashing of chains, something resembling a bone saw slicing through meat. Whatever was going on within this lab was truly ghastly. Further lingering would allow one to overhear the mad muttering of Oscar:

"No it's too small...stop it stop it fit damn you...I need more, I need mooooore...what is that melody!?"

Eventually one should reach the conclusion that Oscar was not ready yet. Surely he would call upon Shred when it was time...

Oscar would end up working on the arm for a month. He would gradually get more casual with his work as he gained progress, but the mess he had left during the first week of the project was so immense that he kept that lab locked at all times. He had to, lest Naomi Sato discover what he had been up to this entire time. The other scientists knew to stay away, the fear of what they would find preventing them from investigating what was now unmistakably Oscar's lab.

Shred would eventually be summoned by Oscar, though they would not meet within that grotesque laboratory. Instead Oscar would bring the finished product to one of the open workshops during the slower hours of the day, presenting a polished robotic arm upon a pedestal.

It was a work of art, a metal arm with pristine chrome skin. A fusion of the technology of today and tomorrow, the very first of its kind. The stainless surface of the arm hid technology so complex that it would make any sane person wonder how it could even function in the first place, yet Oscar ensured that it would work flawlessly. Dressed in his finest suit, Oscar would proudly present his masterpiece to Shred.

"Here we are at last, what do you think? Be honest."

Shred

The wait starts off excruciatingly long and excruciatingly boring. Laying in your hospital bed, waiting and waiting, with nothing to do but recover, plan, and eat your modest soups. But after the first week passes? It isn't so bad. You're discharged in all but name, which is good, because there's plenty for you to be doing.

Finally, out of the infirmary!

And then, one month later? You find yourself back in the infirmary. Yeah. What can you say? Area Zero was a place full of highs and lows, with an emphasis on the lows. Oh well. At least it wasn't as bad as last time.

And not long after that, you find yourself back where this little venture began - Walking down to the labs to get yourself a new arm.

When you arrive, you immediately clock Oscar and his pristine cybernetic. From the way he's dressed, part of you wonders if he's going to try and sell this to you. You'll admit, you didn't consider that possibility, but... Fuck it. If he wants a payday, you'll just get Chester to work his pure money magic. Or, more likely, you'll get howard slayte to cut him a cheque. You think these kinds of fancy robotics are too expensive to be bought with Gimmighoul coins.

"Well, it sure looks nice, but I can't judge it yet, can I? Not until I take it for a test drive." You reply, pulling off your coat and sliding down your shirt to reveal what little remains of your arm. "Hook me up, Oscar."

---

oscar clayton

Oscar grinned as Shred requested a demonstration. "With pleasure!" The scientist declared as he raised the arm off of the pedestal. He held it aloft, not yet holding it close enough for Shred to grab. "The original arm would have required surgery to attach. It needed to be connected to the spinal column in order to have the same functionality as a normal human appendage. Thanks to the tech you provided, this second iteration can be attached and detached freely. Simply press here..."

Oscar pressed a button just under the tip of forearm, hidden away so that it would not open accidentally. The forearm split open, revealing a series of needles surrounding a large chrome spike. Oscar's smile suddenly became foreboding. "Once the arm is in place, the arm will close and attach itself into your nervous system. You'll feel a pinch, but it will allow you to easily wield it like a normal arm. You can de-attach it by pressing the button again--although I would not recommend taking it on and off often. You know, because of the pinch."

Oscar coyly stepped forward, placing the arm into position. Then, before Shred could back out, he would press the button to begin the attachment process. "Think pleasant thoughts!"

Shred

[googlefont=Rubik Burned]"Wait, what--"

But there's no time to wait, nor to elaborate. Instead, the iron maiden closes around what little remains of your arm. Dozens of daggers and knives stab into your arm, tunnelling through burnt flesh like wriggling worms in graveyard dirt. And as they feasted on your remains, it didn't take long for them to reach the most succulent part of your broken body - the nerves.

Damaged though they might be, numbed though they might be, they still feel. And as fang after fang bites down upon your very sense of feeling, there's nothing you can do but scream.

And scream. And scream. And scream and scream and scream until your voice gives out and all you're left with is a rasp of suffering.

You hadn't grown used to missing your arm, but you had gotten used to no longer feeling it. Now, though? You can. For the first time in months, you feel sensation within that lost part of you, returned after so long away. And it hurts. It hurts so goddamn bad that it makes you want to rip it off and throw it away.

But eventually, the maggots eat their fill. The blades entangled with your nervous system sink into place. And slowly but surely, the shock fades and your body grows used to the pain. That doesn't meant it feels good. But it feels. And that has to be better than nothing, right?

Through haggard breaths, you reach out, but not for Oscar. Instead, you grab something off a nearby countertop. Some piece of scientific equipment, probably, but you neither know nor care what. And with your newfound arm, you squeeze. Fingers wrap around a solid metal body and constrict and constrict, like a Seviper swirling a Zigzagoon, constricting and constricting and constricting and constricting until--

SNAP!

--It breaks. Two pieces fall to the ground, and what remains shatters on the floor. As you raise up the cybernetic, awe mixing with agony, you can think of only one thing to say:

"GROOVY."

---

oscar clayton