"Sir..."
"No!"
"Please be reasonable, sir..."
"I will do no such thing, you harlequin!"
The young police officer really didn't deserve this. It had only been days since he earned his badge. He'd never been trained for this. He was about as well equipped for the situation as a Metapod was for a rock-paper-scissors contest. How did one move a surly old man from a hotel doorway, when said old man refused to let anyone touch him? Seriously, how? He desperately wanted to know.
People were getting annoyed. The white-bearded man was just lying there, straight as an arrow and with his arms crossed over his chest, smack-dab in the main entrance of the hotel. Visitors couldn't get in, hotel staff couldn't get out. If anyone tried stepping over him he stared hurling abuse at them. And so the police was called. And what with the influx of thousands of visitors to Goldenrod, all the police could spare was the young man fresh from the academy. And he was hopelessly out of his league.
"Sir, if the hotel has no room for you then there is nothing that can be done..."
"Don't give me that, you mameluke! You cannibal, you! This is the fourth hotel I've been to in this thrice-damned city and they can't spare a cabin anywhere! I won't stand for it! It's a conspiracy and you're all in on it!"
"Sir, that's ridiculous..."
"RIDICULOUS?! Ridiculous, am I now? I was wrestling Tentacruels before you were a glint in the milkman's eye, you gangster!"
"I... I apologize, sir. That may have been a poor choice of words..."
The officer was coming apart at the seams. The crowd around the two; he couldn't handle it. They were watching, judging. He needed to get the old man out of here, fast.
"You're a poor choice for an officer, that's what you are! Don't even know the first thing about your job! Your job is to protect and serve loyal taxpayers such as myself! To serve, you hagfish!"
"T-that's not strictly speaking true, sir..."
"I don't wanna hear it! I want me some quarters! I want a hotel! So come on then, you fancy-dressed fascist, SERVE ME!"
"..."
______________________________________________________________________________________________________
One hour later the old man, captain Herman Wash, was walking through a relatively quiet alley. In the end, there was nothing for the young officer to do other than find the captain a room. After an hour of networking with hotel staff and a lot of phone calls he had found Wash a place to stay. As Wash went over the instructions to find the place in his head, he felt just a bit satisfied with himself. Felt good seeing those fancy city-goers cave. As well they should. Spineless, those young folk.
Now, where was this Sleeping Sunkern? Should be close.
"No!"
"Please be reasonable, sir..."
"I will do no such thing, you harlequin!"
The young police officer really didn't deserve this. It had only been days since he earned his badge. He'd never been trained for this. He was about as well equipped for the situation as a Metapod was for a rock-paper-scissors contest. How did one move a surly old man from a hotel doorway, when said old man refused to let anyone touch him? Seriously, how? He desperately wanted to know.
People were getting annoyed. The white-bearded man was just lying there, straight as an arrow and with his arms crossed over his chest, smack-dab in the main entrance of the hotel. Visitors couldn't get in, hotel staff couldn't get out. If anyone tried stepping over him he stared hurling abuse at them. And so the police was called. And what with the influx of thousands of visitors to Goldenrod, all the police could spare was the young man fresh from the academy. And he was hopelessly out of his league.
"Sir, if the hotel has no room for you then there is nothing that can be done..."
"Don't give me that, you mameluke! You cannibal, you! This is the fourth hotel I've been to in this thrice-damned city and they can't spare a cabin anywhere! I won't stand for it! It's a conspiracy and you're all in on it!"
"Sir, that's ridiculous..."
"RIDICULOUS?! Ridiculous, am I now? I was wrestling Tentacruels before you were a glint in the milkman's eye, you gangster!"
"I... I apologize, sir. That may have been a poor choice of words..."
The officer was coming apart at the seams. The crowd around the two; he couldn't handle it. They were watching, judging. He needed to get the old man out of here, fast.
"You're a poor choice for an officer, that's what you are! Don't even know the first thing about your job! Your job is to protect and serve loyal taxpayers such as myself! To serve, you hagfish!"
"T-that's not strictly speaking true, sir..."
"I don't wanna hear it! I want me some quarters! I want a hotel! So come on then, you fancy-dressed fascist, SERVE ME!"
"..."
______________________________________________________________________________________________________
One hour later the old man, captain Herman Wash, was walking through a relatively quiet alley. In the end, there was nothing for the young officer to do other than find the captain a room. After an hour of networking with hotel staff and a lot of phone calls he had found Wash a place to stay. As Wash went over the instructions to find the place in his head, he felt just a bit satisfied with himself. Felt good seeing those fancy city-goers cave. As well they should. Spineless, those young folk.
Now, where was this Sleeping Sunkern? Should be close.