Doctor Doom entered the Dojo to the sight of several sweaty men doing repetitive motions with their Pokemon at their side, doing the very same motions as their masters. Doom fought the sudden urge to turn around and leave. Although this was clearly a waste of both his talents and time it appeared to mean a lot to Meowth that he triumph over these fools. Anything that gave him even more leverage for one of his minions to be absolutely loyal to him was never a complete waste of his time. Not only that, but Meowth was sure to spread word of the kindness and greatness of Doom for this one small, meaningless gesture. The word of Doom had to be spread, otherwise how would people know to greet their future overlord? After Doom slaughtered everyone in what would amount to a poor excuse for combat by Pokemon perhaps Doom would make the building explode. Yes, that sounded splendid indeed.
Doom took two steps forward and shouted, “Fools, Doom is here for you. Step forth and embrace your fate or perish like cowards. It makes no difference.”
The bustling of the dojo ground to a halt as every eye snapped to Doom who didn’t so much as blink at all of the new attention. At least they were somewhat coordinated, Doom thought.
After a moment a skinny man in a karate gi stepped forward with a stern look on his face. Doom was not impressed.
“How dare you barge into this dojo uninvited! I, initiate Kyle, challenge you to a Pokemon battle on my honor as a disciple of this noble dojo!”
Doom stifled a yawn and selected a Pokeball from his belt at random. Doom didn’t need to make decisions on an opponent such as the one before him, after all.
Kyle caught the sign of disrespect and gritted his teeth. This man would pay for such a slight against the people who had offered him a home. “Go, Machoke!” A grey, muscle-bound Pokemon materialized from the Pokeball and posed in front of its trainer.
Doom narrowed his eyes. Doom did not care for braggarts. He tossed his Pokeball in front of him and Doom, the Gyarados, uncoiled itself from the Pokeball. Doom could not stop himself from sighing in regret. This was going to hurt Doom’s efficiency rating.
There’s no kill like overkill.
Kyle did not seem to be impressed by the sight of the massive Gyarados looming over his comparatively small Machoke. “”You will find that at this Dojo skill matters far more than size! Machoke-“
“Devour,” Doom said with authority.
Doom coiled into a ball before leaping into the air. It was snack time, and Doom liked snack time.
“Dodge! Dodge Machoke!” Kyle screamed.
His efforts were for naught.
What happened next ended up sending six of the dojo students and three of the masters into psychological therapy for a decade. Doom the Gyarados plunged straight into Machoke, swallowed him up in one fluid motion, and then in the very next motion spit out the bones of said Machoke along the far wall in such a way that ended up spelling “Adequate.”
Kyle in an impressive multitasking display threw up the contents of his stomach and fainted at the exact same time.
Doom the Gyarados turned back to his master, hopeful for some acknowledgment.
Doom looked up at Doom with no emotion in his eyes. “Doom is not normally so kind, Doom, so pay attention for I will only give you this treat of knowledge once, and only do so for because you completed the task before you so swiftly as to make this not count as a waste of time: Doom shall not clap for you on every occasion. Doom will not shower you with praise whenever you merely complete a task. Doom does not pander to those who are fortunate enough to be in his presence. Has Doom made himself clear?”
Doom nodded its head.
“Then face forward. You aren’t done yet.”
Doom did as his master asked because he wasn't nearly stupid enough to do anything else.