“A top,” Doom said. “My mother used to give me tops when I was a boy. Then she was sent to hell with an egotistical demon. I haven’t played with one since.” Doom’s voice was uncharacteristically soft as he seemed lost, for the moment, in a distant memory.
The master wasn’t going to let this opportunity go to waste. “Attack, Hitmontop!” The Hitmontop began to spin very rapidly.
“It has been a very long time since Doom has had the chance to play with a top. Doom finds that he yearns for that feeling once more.” Doom turned to Doom. “Spin,” he commanded.
Doom, knowing Doom very well, knew exactly what Doom requested of Doom.
The Hitmontop charged at Doom on its head, spinning at full velocity. Just as it was about to strike, however, Doom flicked its tail in such a way that not only kept Hitmontop’s momentum going, but increased its velocity multi-fold.
“Spin and spin and spin. Tops are not meant to spin forever, you will find. Eventually it needs to stop, as all things not Doom must,” Doom murmured, madness creeping into his voice as he spoke.
“Attack Hitmontop! Evade the tail!”
A useless command. Again and again Doom the Gyarados was able to make the Hitmontop spin faster and faster until before long the Pokemon could no longer hear its master’s commands, and it could no longer move of its own volition.
“Doom is afraid he has grown tired of playing with a top once again. Time to put the toy away. Doom!”
Doom flicked the Hitmontop one last time. As the Pokemon spun though red splatters began to paint the walls. Then chunks of a now dead Hitmontop soon marred the walls along with the blood. Before long bones found themselves scattered throughout the room and only a small part of the once whole Hitmontop rattled to a stop in the middle of the room.
“Given enough torque, even objects made to spin will eventually lose their structural integrity. How pathetic; it could not even live up to its namesake. What a waste.”
Doom recalled Doom to its Pokeball and slowly stepped towards the man who was now having a panic attack.
“You are Doom! I admit it! Please, spare me and my Dojo that I have worked so tirelessly to build. In return, you can have your choice of my two most prized Pokemon. Hitmonlee and Hitmonchan, strong fighting types who I have raised specifically to obey any master!” The man took the balls from his belt and placed them in his hands.
Doom rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “So what you are saying is that if I spare you I can obtain one of the two Pokemon in question, yes?”
The man nodded eagerly. He really didn’t want to die today.
Doom smiled down at the man. “I have… a counter proposal.”
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"intention doesn't matter? clearly your cashier degree did not require a law course." - ND to Joyrock on the legality of drinking a soda before paying