“Fine,” he said, shouldering his pack.
“We’re clear then?”
“Yes, mother,” he grumbled.
“Now can we go?”
“Yuppers,” he said. “Let’s do it.”
“Are you serious?” she asked, frustration easily visible. “We talked even longer about that. Every single time you say ‘yuppers’, it causes me considerable mental pain.”
“Fine, but eventually you’ll be saying it too.”
“I seriously doubt it. And I don’t wanna hear any back talk from you either. Until we collect the money, I’m still somewhat pissed at you.”
“Okay then,” he replied. “Glad were off to such a good start. I’m really looking forward to going to Kanto with the Gestapo.”
“What did I say about talking back?” she asked.
“Last word freak,” he muttered, walking to catch up with Nuzleaf and Golduck.
“Heard that,” Shelton said, taking up place to his right.
Keeping a brisk pace, they soon passed the small hole where the source of his new luck had been buried. It was funny to Dorian how far his life had shifted today. Starting with the triumph of his successful Growlithe capture, to the domestic abuse administered to him by Shelton, then to the extreme financial gain he was about to attain. Stepping over the hole, a slight lime glint caught his eye. Bending down, he saw what appeared to be a shaving of rock, its surface oily in the intense sunlight. As he turned his head sideways, the small flake glinted again, the green color out of place amidst the red dirt of the road. Just as he was about to scoop it up, Shelton’s voice rang out from down the road, making him realize they had continued on without him. Shrugging the small flake out of his mind, he started back down the road, thoughts of fat stacks of credits making him smile.