Executive Overbeech

Plop plop.

Two drops of water fell from a small crack in the ceiling. Andrew stared at them as they fell to the ground and were absorbed into a small puddle. He eyed the door before getting up and swinging his flippers to his hips.

“The ceiling’s been leaking for ages! When will the repair man get here?”

The Marshtomp paused, again glancing at the door.

“The ceiling’s been leaking for ages! When will the repair man get here?”

Nobody entered. 

He sighed. “Maybe if I try again in a few minutes they’ll show up. It’s gotta work eventually, right… Right?”

Nobody responded.

“Goddamnit it, who am I talking to? This job is driving me mad.” Andrew grumbled before sauntering back over to his desk. Other than attending the occasional meeting with the council, Andrew had nothing to do except for lounging around the office all day. Occasionally he’d pull out a book or word search, but those quickly grew boring.

The Marshtomp looked out at the ocean through his office window. Bleak gray clouds loomed over the horizon, drifting from the land over the water. 

 Of course there had to be a storm! Of course there had to be a leak! The world hates me.

Plop plop.

“The ceiling’s been leaking for ages! When will the repair man get here?”

Knock knock.

A smile immediately overcame Andrew’s face. His eyes glowed as he dashed over to the door and jerked it open. 

A Bisharp guard stood tall and straight on the other side. He bore a stoic, emotionless expression which all the guards Andrew had encountered seemed to have.

“Uh,” he uttered as he scratched the back of his head. “Are you the repair guy? That leak’s been really pissing me off, and the sooner it gets fixed, the sooner I can do nothing in peace once again.”

The Bisharp said nothing, instead opting to answer by holding out his hand. He presented a single, unmarked envelope. 

“Okay then,” Andrew mumbled as he  took the paper and looked down at it. The hell is this all about? Is this my taxes? Because Thomas said that he was going to handle that.

Andrew looked back up at the door. In the seconds that Andrew had broken eye contact, the Bisharp seemed to have vanished into thin air. He stuck his head out of the office and looked back and forth before shutting the door. There was no sign of him.

Freaky,” he muttered before returning back to his desk and opening up the envelope. 

The letter was written in a neat cursive scrawl.

“Andrew, this new inter-castle mail system is really cool. Imagine how much easier things will be now that I can harass other Pokemon without leaving my office. Oh, by the way, we have an issue. Like, a big one. You should come to my office about right now.

Sincerely,

Charles Raichu.”

He couldn’t just come here and tell me about this himself? God, I am surrounded by idiots.

Andrew placed the letter down and wiped a bit of excess water off his forehead.

Better go see what this is about.

---

Andrew slammed the letter down on Charlie’s desk. But this wasn’t Charlie’s original office; they were in what was formerly Mirage’s room. 

“Like, who do these people think they are? These assholes are trying to blackmail me!” He shouted.

“Calm down, this isn’t a big deal, let’s approach this with reason.” Charlie spoke calmly as he patted Andrew’s back.

The Marshtomp’s flippers trembled as he grabbed the piece of paper and scanned it over again. “How can you say that? The Grandeport Guild is big and influential, this could really hurt me!”

Charlie raised his brow. “You mean hurt us?”

“I don’t know what I’m going to do! I can’t re-privatize the guild, that would make me look weak. I can’t lose this! I’d be ruined! Don’t you hear me?” He grabbed the Raichu’s shoulders before violently shaking him. “Ruined!”

Charlie pushed Andrew off him and grabbed his flipper beginning to constrict it in his grasp. “Andrew, Andrew. You need to calm down. This was probably bound to happen sooner or later. And better it happened sooner than later.”

“No, this is bad!” He groaned as he began pulling at his bowtie and trying to break free from Charlie.

“Get a hold of yourself, Marshtomp!” the Raichu barked, refusing to let go. “Want  to resolve this while keeping control of the guild? Then you’ll listen to me.”

He released Andrew, who stumbled backward and fell to the floor. His chest heaved up and down as his heart pounded against his chest. 

You aren’t panicking, he tried to tell himself. 

He closed his eyes.

Okay, maybe I am a little.

“Andrew, you alright?”

The Marshtomp shot up from the ground and brushed himself off. “Yeah, never been better.”

“Good to hear. Now then, why don’t you say we pay the guild rebels a little visit? I think we could be quite persuasive,” Charlie remarked with a smirk before waving his paw toward the door.

The two proceeded to make their way through the twisting halls of the castle and  to Grandeport’s bustling main square. The ocean air wafted through the crowded market, growing stronger as Andrew and Charlie approached the Grandeport Guild’s towering castle. 

A loud roar of voices swept through the land as they got closer and closer. Pokemon were chanting, yelling and raving, greeting, Charlie, and ten Bisharp guards accompanying them with a deafening racket. 

A horde of Pokemon packed the wooded courtyard of the castle. They held up and waved around signs with messages such as ‘Freedom!’, ‘Robbed!’, and ‘Let Us Rescue!’. 

The crowd roared as they noticed the government leaders entering the premises. The guards formed a ring around them as they pushed and shoved their way toward the castle’s entrance.

Balls of fire, water, glowing energy, and ice flew overhead, barely missing the tips of the Bisharps’ head blades. 

“This is getting out of hand!” Andrew yelled over the jumbled voices of the protesters.

Charlie shrugged. “We should try to figure out who’s in charge of this.”

Though almost everything was obscured by the wall of Pokemon and the guards, Andrew was able to glimpse a Quilava standing on the podium on which Marcus Blaziken had given his speech before. The Quilava’s eyes darted back and forth between the protesters and Andrew’s group. He yelled something to the crowd, which prompted a loud shout, their words also impossible to make out. 

After weaving through the horde, the Marshtomp and the others were soon only a mere few feet away from the yelling Quilava. The heat from his erratic flames brushed up against Andrew’s skin, causing him to wince.

“What do we want!?” the fire type called.

“FREEDOM!” The crowd hollered back in unison.

“When do we want it!?”

“NOW!?”

“What will we do if we don’t get it?”

The surrounding Pokemon  began to cry back at varying volumes, their response a nearly incomprehensible mess. 

“Vaguelyviolentprotestsattackblowupabuildingkillsomeonenothingmuchwhateveryousayfuckthemarshtomp.”

The Quilava raised up his front paws and the protesters erupted in cheer. 

At this point, the Bisharps had finally managed to push their way through everyone, clearing a path for Charlie and Andrew to climb up onto the podium. The Quilava was grabbed by one of the guards and quickly taken out of sight.

The Marshtomp  tapped his foot as he gazed out at all the protesters, who now stared directly at him. “What do we do exactly? Who’s even in charge?”

“That Quilava, probably,” Charlie said with a shrug.

Andrew threw his head up. “Didn’t you put somebody in charge of this place when we took it? Isn’t that your job?”

“My job?” The Raichu stuck a paw in his face. “It was your job! The whole guild takeover crap was your idea!”

“You wouldn’t have let me appoint someone in charge if I tried! You’re the only one to blame!” He yelled back.

“Oh, I totally would have,” Charlie dismissed. You’re just trying to blame me because of… your…” 

The Raichu had trailed off. When Andrew looked around, to his surprise, the crowd had gone dead silent to watch them loudly argue.

“Do you think Everett stuck around?” He whispered, turning back to Charlie

He shook his head. “He and the other cops only stuck around long enough to loot the place. And I only stuck around long enough for us to get our fair share of it.”

“That’s good, but should we really be discussing this here?” Andrew sneered as he glared at the increasing number of onlookers. 

“No, you probably shouldn’t be,” said someone behind Andrew. He turned to see Jason weaving his way through the crowd before poking his head out just beside him.

I assume you’re here to negotiate?” The Espeon asked.

Andrew nodded. “Something like-”.

“No, we are here to demand,” Charlie interrupted.

The crowd’s voices erupted into a fit of booing and hissing. It was of a painful volume— it was louder than anything he had ever heard, perhaps the loudest sound that had ever been created. 

And it was all directed at him. Faces, snouts, and everything in between with deep-cut scowls and bloodthirsty eyes, their own ready to leap and tear into his flesh.

The Espeon smiled warmly… suspiciously so. The only smile in a sea of frowns. A bead of sweat ran down the back of Andrew’s head as Charlie maintained a stern, demanding expression.

Jason calmly leaped up onto the podium. One of the guards bent down to grab him, but out of fearful anticipation, the Marshtomp motioned for him to cease.

“Considering the speed it took for the both of you to get here,” the Espeon to said to Andrew, loudly enough to announce their conversation to the crowd, “I assume our letter got to you pretty fast, in more ways than one.” 

Charlie jabbed his tail up into the air, causing it to crackle fiercely with electricity. “I want to speak to whoever is currently in charge. The Blaziken, I imagine. If you want any working deal, you aren’t going to get it by talking to us through pathetic middle men.”

“Marcus left,” Jason replied with a solemn tone, his smile beginning to wane. “I haven’t seen him in the guild or anywhere around town since his goodbye speech.”

Andrew brandished a smug smile, feeling a new sense of confidence taking hold of him. “Well, I guess the chicken was… chicken, after all.” He proudly enunciated while grinning. 

He paused. That should at least get a few laughs out of them.

Nobody laughed.

“Can’t say I blame him. Smart move, if you ask me,” the Marshtomp continued.

“Are you trying to imply something here, Andrew?” Jason spat, his voice dripping with vitriol. 

He raised his flippers. “Why, I’d never! Just commenting on the brilliance of your former boss.”

“Both of you, enough!” Charlie snarled as he brought his paw down on the table. It struck with a loud thud. “I’m not here to play games. Get us to whoever is in charge or we’re leaving.”

“That’s good. If you’d care to look around, you’ll notice that you weren’t invited,” Jason growled  before gesturing around with his his paw.

The Espeon looked toward the door as he let out a sigh. “You think I want to be the one doing this? It’s Charlie, right? The reason I’m the one talking to you and not the person in charge is because your guards just carried him off to Arceus knows where. Plus, the ‘Andrew experience’ didn’t help things.

“Or, maybe this is all part of your evil plan,” the Marshtomp said, narrowing his eyes.

“It doesn’t matter. I’m the one who you have to talk to whether you like it or not. Unless you’d like to bring Leo back. But… maybe some peace and quiet for a few minutes would do him some good.”

“Let me go you metal-skinned freaks!” the Quilava cried out from behind some foliage nearby as he was carried away.

The crowd murmured as the disruption continued. The protesters at the forefront even began to impatiently approach the brush. However, with a coordinated stomp of the remaining nine guards, they jumped back, dissuaded from approaching the pleading Pokemon.

A weary look came over Jason’s face. “I know we’ve had some… differences, lately. But if we can put those aside, I think we can work something out. We have the whole guild here, so now’s a better time than ever to come to a deal.”

“I’d prefer to have this discussion behind nice, safe closed doors.” Andrew muttered. He panned his head around to observe the angry crowd.

Jason put a paw on the Marshtomps’s back before pushing down. “I thought you loved democracy? You forced us to have not one— but two elections! Surely you’d want everybody to have a say in this.”

The Raichu humphed. “We’re leaving.”

He got up and began making his way off the platform, causing two Bisharps to move aside and  allow his passage. He craned his head around and eyed Andrew. “What are you waiting for? Don’t let him boss you around. Let’s go.”

“Yeah, Andrew,” The Espeon scoffed. “Don’t let me boss you around.”

The Marshtomp crossed his flippers. “I am the harbinger of enlightenment and democracy. So, fine, let’s discuss this as a collective.” 

“We’re. Leaving,” Charlie repeated. 

Andrew humphed. “I’m the president. I’m staying.”

He mumbled something under his breath before stomping back over to the Marshtomp. He stuck his chin up as he slapped the back of Andrew’s head with his tail. “Idiot. I’m only here to prevent you from doing something dumb.”

“Well then,” Jason said before laughing nervously. “Now that we have that out of the way, let’s get to negotiating.”

A purple glow surrounded the letter in Andrew’s hand. It escaped his grasp and slowly rose up to the table, where it placed itself flat for everyone to see.

“We made our positions pretty clear in this. Just bring things back to how they were a month ago, and we won’t have a problem.”

The protesters murmured and nodded in unison as their gazes softened.

Andrew made no effort to hold back a self-satisfied smile. “You think that you scare me, Jason? I’m not willing to make any compromises on this whole guild thing.” 

“Agreed,” Charlie said as he also cracked a smile. “Marcus Blaziken agreed to donate all of the guild’s assets to the government. We are perfectly within our legal and moral boundaries, you have no justifiable reason to strike.”

“That’s not true!” Yelled a high-pitched voice from the back.

“Thieves!” shouted  a Quaxwell in the front.

Jason growled, his ears twitching. “We have no resources! Andrew, your pettiness has bled us dry and people are going to suffer for it.”

“I don’t see any suffering,” the Marshtomp replied as his eyes swept over the crowd. “Do you?”

“I don’t see any, either,” Charlie remarked.

More booing erupted from the crowd. A ball of water flew up and hit Andrew in the face. The Marshtomp’s entire body and bowtie became soaked. 

“Who did that? Who shot that at me? I’ll fucking kill you!” He shouted frantically, undoing his bowtie and throwing it to the ground. 

The protesters again fell silent. 

“I’ll— you…” 

Jason shook his head at the insanity.

Andrew picked the bandana up and wrung it before tying it back around his neck. He put on a deadpan expression before clearing his throat. “That was quite refreshing. Anyways, is it possible that what I’m doing here is a good thing? That by keeping the guild from having too many profits, I’m actually helping people?” 

Jason narrowed his brow. “That certainly isn’t what’s happening here.” 

He smiled. “Isn’t it?”

The Espeon crouched with his back legs planted, readying to lunge. “You’re lying to yourself.”

“You’re lying to yourself!” Charlie barked. 

“Jason just wants to keep all the profits,” Andrew jeered.

Charlie clasped his paws together. “Exactly.”

“He’s been pulling the strings this whole time!”

“Exactly!”

The Espeon took a step back as the wide eyes of the crowd began to focus on him. “The fuck are you two talking about!?”

“Was Marcus Blaziken ever real? Has anyone ever seen him?” Andrew questioned, pointing his finger at the guild members.

Charlie chuckled, athough he now had a look of mild concern. “That’s a very good point. Marcus has been gone for a while now. Is he really anything more than a distant memory?”

“Marcus never existed. He was just an illusion. Maybe he was a shared hallucination. What’s in the water, is it even filtered? We can’t prove a person by the name of Marcus Blazkien ever existed because I don’t think he ever did.” Andrew placed his flippers down on the table and began leaning toward Jason.

The Espeon scoffed. “You’re insane. You saw him two weeks ago. We all saw him two weeks ago!”

Looks of confusion and concern began to creep onto the faces of the onlooking Pokemon. About half of them seemed more confused by the Marshtomp’s statements than genuinely upset.

“Did I? I don’t remember. That’s not important. Though, I’ll tell you what is,” Andrew dismissed as he raised his flipper into the air.

“Jason wants to undermine my power because you’re jealous!” The Marshtomp yelled loudly to the crowd as he began to pace across the stage. You are jealous and mad that I seized your stolen wealth which belongs to the people, being redistributed via myself.”

“What,” Jason deadpanned.

Clear, visible confusion was now plastered on Charlie’s face. It contorted into a grimace as Andrew continued to ramble. 

“This guild imprisoned me! I nearly died! Hell, it was Jason that tried to kill me. It doesn’t matter if I’m justified in taking this institution under my jurisdiction, which I am! I am owed my life, my autonomy, due to what this place did to me.” 

The Raichu cleared his throat loudly, cutting into the Marshtomp’s monologue. “This further goes to show this guild has no ground to stand on. However, we might be willing to return a bit of money if you agree to refrain from striking for at least the next five years.”

“We’re doing this for autonomy,” Jason sighed. “You could return all of the stolen treasure and that wouldn’t change anything. Reprivatize the guild, or we stay on strike!” He pumped his paw in the air, causing the protesters to break out in a chorus of cheers. Signs bobbed to and fro as balls of energy shot through the air. 

Charlie crossed his arms. “You know we can’t do that.”

“Then you leave us no choice. I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this, that maybe there was some reason left in you,” Jason sighed as he put his head down, staring at the wooden floor. 

Andrew looked to Charlie, then back at Jason. “Maybe it doesn’t… have to…” 

The Espeon picked his head up, and a hopeful smile spread across his face. 

Charlie twisted to glare at Andrew before mouthing. ‘What are you doing?’

Andrew took a deep breath before starting to pace behind podium again. He puffed out his chest. “We can’t give you independence without uh… hindering our ability to govern. This guild simply had too much influence in Grandepor’s affairs. Please understand, I am trying to do what is best for every citizen, even those not associated with the guilds.”

“Not to mention, we’d be pissing off every rural guild in the country,” Charlie chimed in.

The Pokemon in the crowd quietly turned to one another and whispered. Andrew pointed his gill in their direction to hear better, but could hardly make out anything.

Jason broke eye contact with the Marshtomp, instead looking at the towering guards. “How many times do I have to say that the guild is going on strike as long as it stays private?”

“But I have a way to prevent that,” Andrew said as he puffed out his chest again and swung his flippers to his side. 

“…Yes?” 

He straightened his bowtie, before grinning proudly. “From now on, any member of the Grandeport Guild who  or who has gone on strike, will be fired. In addition, anybody who has not gone on strike will also be fired. Fuck you, for this stunt, you’re all fired!”

“Hey,” Charlie uttered, nodding in affirmation.. “That’s… pretty smart! Fuck you all! You’re fired!”

Jason’s mouth fell agape. “You can’t do that!”

Oh god, what did I just do? 

“A guild staffed with evil, untrustworthy Pokemon shouldn’t be allowed to rescue anybody,” The Marshtomp continued. He bit his lip, and his eyes darted back and forth. 

This is a horrible idea! 

The crowd fell silent.

Deathly silent.

Andrew gulped. “But on the other hand,we might be able to consider other—” 

“Other ways of communicating this big news to everyone in the city!” Charlie shouted excitedly. He grabbed Andrew’s flipper. “But for now, probably best we run.”

Run? What? 

Andrew had no time to think as he found himself being yanked off the platform and down the path through which they had entered. All ten of the guards had resumed their tight circle formation around the pair. They moved perfectly in sync, Charlie with Andrew always finding themselves directly in the center.

“Get them!” yelled someone. Two someones? A million? It was hard to tell how many people were screaming, but Andrew was made well aware of their displeasure. 

Oh. So that’s why we’re running.

Andrew couldn’t  feel his legs as the surroundings began to blur into a collage of shapes and colors. The ground rumbled beneath their feet as the hundreds of angry now former members gave chase.

After about five minutes of running, the foliage turned into narrow cobblestone streets and quaint shops. Charlie was practically carrying Andrew as the stampede behind them condensed to fit on the roads.

Two Pokemon flew overhead. Andrew was far too dizzy to make them out, but he was able to catch a glimpse of the silver, pointy objects hurling down at them. 

The Bisharp standing closest to him whacked the shards straight into a window before it could make contact with either him or Charlie. There was the shrill sound of shattering glass, then a scream. The rumbling behind them grew softer as many glass-stricken perusers stopped and cried out in pain. 

By the time they had reached the main square, most of the havoc had died down. They were still running, or at least Charlie and the Bisharp were. The Marshtomp attempted to move his legs as fast as possible but was propelled forward by Charlie. 

He craned his neck to  glimpse behind him, and only about ten Pokemon were still giving chase. Andrew’s legs felt like they had been sanded down a few inches, and his flipper ached as if it had been pulled off. 

They swerved onto another narrow street. Eight of the guards suddenly stopped running and formed a Bisharp barricade between the angry mob and Andrew. The Marshtomp stopped to catch his breath, only for Charlie to grab him and fled with the two remaining guards.

“Ch-Charlie! I don’t know how much longer I can do this!” He wheezed.

Charlie seemed to have barely broken a sweat, not slowing down. “We’re just running to the nearest police garrison and then we can rest.”

After a few minutes of running through town,  they skidded to a halt. One of the Bisharps opened an inconspicuous door built into a windowless wooden structure.

Inside was a small room. A small table sat in the center with a few chairs scattered around it, right below a ceiling lamp which provided the space’s only source of light. An empty bulletin board was hung above a couch on the right wall.

Two Pokemon, a Butterfree and a Sawk with green bandanas tied around their necks, were sitting at a table playing cards as the small party entered.

“Hey! You can’t be here!” The Butterfree barked at him, putting down his cards.

Andrew slammed the door shut. Dehydration had taken hold and his throat burned as if it were on fire. He slumped down on the couch and spread out his flippers. “I’m the goddamned president, I can go where I want! Get me some water!”

“What?” The other police officer uttered. He tilted his head as he stood up. “We didn’t get any notice that Marshtomp would be showing up here. If you’re the real deal, you better have the paperwork—”

Charlie’s cheeks pulsed and crackled with electricity. “We just got chased down by an angry mob! Go get the president some water. Now!”

---

Andrew placed his mug down before looking at Thomas, who was smiling at him from across the table. “You know, it’s the little things in life that I’ve learned to appreciate lately. Like not getting chased by an entire guild.”

“That’s good to hear, Andrew,” the Servine said cheerfully as he popped an oran berry into his mouth. 

“Just reading the Gazette while eating breakfast on a slow morning. What more could anyone ask for?” He picked up a newspaper which was sitting just across the table. 

Thomas reclined back in his seat. “I’m really happy to hear that, Andrew.”

“Are you listening to me?” The Marshtomp pressed as he raised his brow.

“Oh, Andrew,” he chuckled. “I’m really happy to hear that!” 

“Thomas!” Andrew shouted.

The Servine jolted forward. “What? What is it?”

“You weren’t listening to me. You don’t seem remotely interested in the fact that I nearly died yesterday!” The Marshtomp complained, glancing at the newspaper.

Thomas stood up and brought his plate over to the sink. “Sorry. I’ve just had a lot on my mind lately, especially since your behavior at my parents’. Considering that you claim to almost die every day, I still have to find a good way to kill you.”

“You really don’t have to do that. I’d be happy to not be killed,” Andrew replied. He took another sip of water before letting out a content sigh.

Thomas laughed. “Oh, but I insist!”

Andrew continued scanning over the newspaper until reaching an article title, stating in bold letters: 

‘PRESIDENT CHASED DOWN BY ANGRY MOB’

I probably don’t have to learn about that…

‘MYSTERY DUNGEON FORMATIONS UP 40%,’ said another.

“This article says there’s a bunch more mystery dungeons. That sounds bad.”

The Servine came up behind and began reading over the article. “Doesn’t surprise me, the rural guilds won’t be able to carry out all the rescues done by the Grandeport Guild. Less rescues means fewer dungeons get deactivated and more people get lost. It’s a nasty cycle.”

“You’re saying this is my fault?” Andrew accused as he swung his head back.

Thomas raised his vines in concession. “I never said that.”

“Damn it! I didn’t mean to fire everyone! I just… did! Now look at how bad this is! They really tried to kill me! Damn it, damnit, DAMNIT!” Andrew yelled, pushing the mug off the table. There was the resounding noise of glass shattering before he even realized what happened.

Thomas gave him a weary smile. “Don’t worry, Andrew. You did what you had to do. You’ll figure this out. It will all work out in the end, it always does.”

What are you saying? That was crazy! Insane! How can you even believe that Thomas? Why are you so kind to me even when you realize how wrong I am?

“I’ll go get the broom,” Thomas muttered before disappearing into another room.

Andrew closed his eyes. He leaned back in his chair as the sights and sounds of the outside world slowly exited his mind. Soon enough, he was left alone with only his thoughts.

It will all work out in the end. It always does.