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Team Rocket's Executive
January 17th, 2005, 07:20 AM
Prologue

6:00 AM/Inside of Team Rocket Main HQ "MERIK"

Dameon Anderson walked down the seamlessly white corridor that made up Team Rocket Headquarters sprawling underground complex. The steady click-clack of his shoes, the black with silver suit he had on, pressed and all, and the look on his face with his Typhlosion at his side seemed to radiate authority around this complex reserved for the hierarchs of the autocracy that was Team Rocket.

He stoped right in place, and glared at the manager of operations in Azelea Town. The Manager gave out a fake smile, swirled in with shame.

Dameon pointed to him. "Come into my office."

The manager and Dameon entered the office of the Team Rocket Vice President.

"So, technically, you failed me again, by letting a nine year old stop you in your tracks from SELLLING SLOWPOKE TAILS!?!" Dameon Barked. He pushed his glasses up to the bridge of his nose.

"His Pokemon were powerful," the Manager argued, "And we couldn't stop that kid from slaughtering our Pokemon!"

Dameon, with renewed anger, slammed the manager into his wall laced with plaques of previous world tournaments he won. They shuddered at the brute force he applied into the man's collar bone.

"YOU RUINED MORE FINANCIAL BENEFITS, YOU BUMBLING IDIOT! HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU THAT THIS IS NOT A DEMOCRACY! YOU DO WHAT ME, GIOVANNI, AND THE REST OF THE ADMINISTRATION STAFF OF TEAM ROCKET TELLS YOU TO DO!" Dameon roared and threw him on the floor. A vase fell to the floor and cracked open, spilling it's contents ajar on the floor.

"It was not my fault!" He argued back.

"How was it not! You refuse to train your Pokemon! I have already told the leaders of each city operation. You know my rule you incompetent fool! You train your grunts to have their Pokemon raised, and care for them! I don't give a **** if those jack-asses out there throw stolen Pokemon into the dumpster!"

"I will do better next time Vice President." He told Dameon quietly.

"No, you won't. I have a good feeling that someone much better will replace you." Dameon stated.

The Manager left with anger, and Dameon filed paperwork for his demotion/suspension files that the once great leader had been removed from the vicinity. The astringe punishment was required to maintain discipline within the high caste of the Team Rocket system. Then he left the room. Typhlosion had been let loose downstairs in the Pokemon gym, focusing on light sparring drill's, and wrestling against his Nidoking.

He left the room, like a mouse, locked the door behind him, and went downstairs two kilometers deeper into HQ. He opened a door that read "Scientists only" and cleared the confirmation files with his pass, and the machine sampled his tissue to check DNA matches. It hurt, but he learned long ago to disascociate himself with pain.

He entered the ominous room, amist with sinious designs padded onto it's dark walls. A man in a white coat stepped out. "It's ready." He reported.

Team Rocket's Executive
January 17th, 2005, 08:02 AM
Chapter One

7:30 AM/Inside of Team Rocket Main HQ "MERIK"

Dameon looked at the tired scientist. Pokemon blood dotted sections of his pearl-white coat, plus there were rings of black under his eyes. He had been working hard. Dameon liked that, and considered giving him a promotion. But first, he had to see what the finished product was, since his unkempt appearence violated dress code, which was to stay pristine, and sharp.

"Now," Dameon began, "I want you to sum up everything that you have completed. I trust you are on schedule. I also want to see the virus, and the Pokemon it will be tested on."

The scientist answered. "Of course. Basically we have mastered the virus. It is capable of putting any pokemon into deep sleep, therefore we can catch and steal at our pleasure. If the Pokemon resists however, the virus will be triggered and will mutate to catastrophic levels, therefore killing the rogue specimen."

Dameon was pleased. But something probed his mind. What if the night op that he was planning failed? What if the Pokemon raid became a cataclysm? He squelched that thought. The scientists that workked here were some of the most brilliant minds in the world.

"Show me the demonstration, and the virus." Dameon said.

He was lead to a room that was white everywhere he looked, almost too bright too directly look at the lights. He was lead to a doorway and brought inside where he stood outside of a room that he saw through a sealed, bulletproof glass pane. There he saw a vial, pulsing with green, frothing liquid inside, almost as hot as plasma. He also saw an oddish sitting on a table, where it squealed for help. Dameon frowned. He hated it when weak Pokemon cried, but putting up with it got him twenty-five grand a week. He saw the Scientist take the vial and put it on a holder. He took an injection tube and sucked up some of the liquid. The scientist also put on a helmet, which would protect him if the oddish used an attack like stun spore. The scientist probed around for a vein in the Grass type Oddish as it tried to defend itself by using Poisonpowder. But it was no use, since the helmet and sterile radioactive-proof suit and helmet protected the scientist from any harm. The Oddish writhed to get free from the leather straps holding it in place. It thrashed and tried every attack it knew, but it was useless.

The injection tube's needle was pressed down on the oddish as the toxin entered the creatures blood. It stopped writhing,

The Scientist spoke up. "You see? It works!"

Yes, Dameon thought, It works.