Oscar straightened his hair as he glared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. Yep, he could still pull off that "I'll bite your ribs out if you look at me funny punk!" look. He gave himself a satisfied chuckle and adjusted his tie. The suit was a nice touch; stealing it was a pain in the ass, but now that he saw the result he could conform that it was well worth the effort. He had to dress to impress, this gig paid well and if he played his cards right he might be able to snag steady pay. Oscar resumed his glare and psyched himself for the mission.

"You're a beast Oscar! You're gonna go out there and nail the shit out of this mission! You're gonna fuck it harder than-" He was interrupted by the door opening, the sound of the crowd outside causing him to jump with surprise. He tried to act casually as a spectator strode in to use the toilet. He didn't do a very good job, his race was red as wine. Oscar sighed deeply. That was his sign to get a move on.

He exited the bathroom and tried his best not to get a headache from the ringing cherrs around him. As he crossed behind the seats of the arena, he tried to get a peek at the fight. He managed to catch a Machamp throw a Garchomp out of view, leaping after it soon after. Whatever happened next had to have been brutal, as the crowd roared with satisfaction. Oscar sneered, he needed tickets to this one day.

After pushing past a few drunk stragglers, he managed to make it to the entrance. He casually took his place on the other side of his fellow bouncer. Now that he was actually here, it was all the more nerve raking. He dared to catch a glance, and was immediately intimidated by her outfit. Not because it was scary, it was stunning! Way more so than his basic ass suit. Oscar tried to not seem too in awe, "Hi sorry I'm a bit late. Miss any action?"
Asher Graham
Katherine Fairburne

Well at least he didn't miss anything. Oscar opened one of his pokeballs, just some extra muscle in case an altercation occurred. Out came Wrath the Empoleon, still a bit bitter about its servitude but much more obedient. He stood behind Oscar and waited patiently for instructions, which hopefully Oscar wouldn't have to give too much of tonight.

No one else gets in? That'll be a problem, considering a well dressed man seemed to be walking toward them. Guy was wearing a similar suit to Oscars, except if he was being honest this stranger really upped the game with that mask of his. Fuck, was Oscar supposed to have a mask? He felt kinda naked without one now.


The man wanted in, and Oscar's partner let him know it wasn't possible. She seemed to be playing bad cop, so Oscar feigned a softer approach. You know, to balance it out. He gave his best smile, and yet still couldn't manage to appear friendly. "I'm sure they'll reimburse your ticket at the box office if you paid for seats. Unless you got them on the street, in which whoopsie that's tough luck."
Asher Graham
Katherine Fairburne

Oscar furrowed his brow. This guy was an investor? And had an invitation too, quite the fancy lad. Well this seemed to out, Oscar was about to let him pass--but his partner had other ideas. She insisted that they were just following orders, which was very much true. Yet if they turned away an investor, that could kill his chances of a permanent gig. This was a real pickle.

Oscar tried to think it over, but his thoughts were blown apart by his partner's vespiquen. It was getting increasingly aggressive, which wasn't good because a pissed off queen attracts bee-cuck armies. As predicted, combees began to appear out of the shadows. Oscar squinted between his partner and the man. This could get real dicey real quick.

He looked up to Wrath for his take, and was met with a very eager looking Empoleon. Wrath looked about ready to cut a bitch at any second. No this wouldn't do. Oscar stepped forward, "Now now, the fight is inside. I have an easy solution. Boss didn't mention you, so I'll just go get him and he'll clear this up. If you're telling the truth you'll be in before the next fight starts. If not, well..." He looked to his partner. After a pause, he spoke. "I'll be back, we appreciate your patience." That statement was meant for both of them. Putting his hands in his pockets, Oscar entered the arena to find the manager. Wrath remained, still ready to get down with the sickness at any moment.
Asher Graham
Katherine Fairburne

Once again Oscar passed by the arena and glanced into its contents. The fight from before was done, and janitors were working hard to clean it up before the next fight. The spectators were mingling loudly and crowding the betting table, looked like a good time all around. Oscar sighed longingly and hurried to the manager's office. He had to pass through "back stage", and had to charge through a few employees lazily chatting instead of performing their duties. He passed by an open door and glanced at a medic treating the machamp from the last fight. It would seem that it had lost one of its arms. Oscar winced at the sight, but he didn't linger. After all, time was of the essence. 

When he made it to the office, Oscar burst in without knocking. The manager looked up from some paperwork, he did not react well to the interruption. "Oh ok, so yeah let's just burst into my office unannounced. Fuck is wrong with you, can't you see I'm in the middle of something?" He was a portly man, balding and always nursing a cigar in his mouth. Seemed kind of like a stereotype of a fight pit boss, however Oscar didn't think about it too hard. He put the invitation on the desk. "A guy's here that wants to see the fight. He says he's an investor and isn't taking no for an answer. Thought I'd run it by you." 

The manager wearily looked at the invitation, and as he read it his face went pale. "Holy shit he actually came." Oscar squinted, the manager noticed immediately. "I'll be honest, I didn't think he'd show up. The man looked too high society for this kind of place. Fuck, it's a full house. There's nowhere to put him." Oscar was aghast, "Not even like box seats?" The manager scratched his head, "Well one is under construction, but that's just it. It's not finished. It's close, just not enough for him to sit in." Oscar clasped his hands over his mouth, closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. As he breathed out, his expression became dire. He knew what must be done, and it better get him this job for keeps. "Where's the box?"

Oscar opened the door to the box seats overlooking the arena. What he saw nearly made him cry. It was a wreck of wood and tools, damn thing hadn't even been painted yet. He walked to the edge of the room and looked over. Had a damn near perfect view of the arena, and telling by the progress of clean up it would seem like the next fight would start shortly. Oscar had no time to lose, he pulled out five pokeballs and opened each one at a time. Tir Na Nog (Accelgor), Sama (Salazzle), Malum (Inkay), Clavis (Dewpider), and Eda (Seviper) emerged. They looked around, puzzled by their surroundings. Oscar clapped to get their attention, "Listen up piss ants we got a hell of a job to do. This place needs to be cleaned up, painted, and chairs need to be installed right here. Clavis and Malum you got the chairs. Sama and Eda are on clean up duty. Tir and I will paint." He removed his coat and dropped it near the observation window. He rolled up his sleeves and snapped, "We got less than ten minutes. Hop to it."
Katherine Fairburne
Asher Graham

Oscar needed an award, this shit should not have worked out the way it did. Him and his team worked their collective asses off making this room presentable in a very short amount of time, and while they were all stressed they were making great progress. Malum and Clavis had successfully installed the chairs, only to realize they were backwards forcing them to flip them around. Sama and Eda took all of the trash and supplies they weren't using and dragged it into a closet in the hall, stuffing as much as the poor thing could hold. Meanwhile Tir and Oscar were painting like mad men, with such precision that you'd think they were professionals. That was not the case of course, Oscar was just that desperate to get this right.

Soon all the parts were in place. Two seats were rightfully installed by the window, the room was clean, and the walls were painted. Oscar threw his paint roller to Tir, who stuffed it and the cans of paint into the trash closet before closing it for good. Sweating bullets, Oscar threw on his coat. Black paint had gotten into his hair but he didn't seem to notice. He gathered his pokemon in one place and granted them an out of breath congratulations, "Holy fuck that was--that was amazing--give me a sec. Oh shit--oof--if that wasn't the worst thing I had ever experienced I would say we should be professionals. Treats all around after this." Oscar returned his minions to their respective balls and rushed out the door.

As he straightened every thing he could, and did his best to cover paint spots on his shirt with his coat, Oscar once more checked on the arena. The new combatants, a tyrantrum and tyranitar were preparing to square off. Oscar had mere moments to make this right. Briefly, for a mili-second, he considered if all of this effort was worth it. And a mili-second later he concluded, fuck yeah it was why wouldn't it be? 

Oscar burst outside, trying his bets not to seem out of breath. "Right um--sorry for the inconvenience sir, the manager has prepared a box seat overlooking the arena. You should hurry, the next fight is about to begin." Wrath looked upon his master and became quite disappointed. He was really hoping for a rumble, but oh well. The night was young.
Katherine Fairburne
Asher Graham