[The thing is, it's far from the worst injury or shock value act Albert's ever seen, but it doesn't have to be the worst for there to still be something decidedly rattling about watching it play out before his eyes. And this is why he hates teenagers, and quite frankly this is what he was dreading this whole time, because this is what BOB did, too — kept his vessels as long as they were useful and then used them up. Shock value. Taunting them.

A dead man with his brains bashed in lying crumpled on a water-slick floor.

The Pokemon may be frozen, but Albert's eyes are dark, and he almost begins to say something — but then his eyes flick to where his Scyther is standing flanking him, and okay, this is stupid but sometimes in moments like this you have to go with stupid because it means it's going to work.

The problem with telling Reid's Pokemon what to do is that "Amanda" will realize he's doing it.

But he's willing to bet she doesn't speak Pokemon — and both Dummy and the guardian angels over there do.]

You're a cheap hack. Anything for a reaction, right? I've seen two-year-olds more subtle about crying for attention.

[And in the pause that follows, Dummy quickly chimes in to politely request that Reid's roster knock him down and pin his hands like right the hell now, please.]