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


_CCUgzo6

Looked like someone high up had finally taken a glance at Grigori's track record. That or someone really disliked him. After all, one did not find a place outside a room with people of various importance levels on a whim. His presence was a conscious decision by some higher up, and that was that.

Even if he wanted nothing more than to walk away and not look back.

Grigori shook the thought from his head. Unsavory thoughts would do nothing to quell his dislike of the situation. Instead, he should stick to what he knows: keeping unwanteds away from places they don't belong.

And while said VIPs started to filter in, he leaned against a nearby wall with crossed arms. Calm, relaxed. His Scizor stood by his side; its claws clicked and clacked against each other. As if it was waiting for any sign of trouble at all. Eager to act.

"Please settle down," Grigori asked. It glared daggers into its trainer, but did so all the same. The grunt turned his attention back to his surroundings. 'Try not to get too bored out here'? With numerous Team Rocket officials that'd make himself look a saint, all the while an ominous shadow blanketed the meeting room and Arceus knows what else?

He'd be lucky to stay bored.

Disseminate II

TL:DR

Standing guard somewhere near the front entrance, nodding to everyone who walks in or passes by

Open to interaction

Scizor is out and ready to KILL

---

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

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

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

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