Albert Rosenfield

( Filtered to Federal Agents - Dale Cooper, Gordon Cole, Spencer Reid, and Ziva David )

~

[The voice on the audio here is rapid and succinct — Albert in his natural state.]

Three things. Number one, I thought the special-delivery egg thing was bad enough, but now it looks like we've graduated into the post-hatched ones, too. Let me make this clear: this is not a foster home. So if you're one of the dunderheads whose animal went missing lately, I'd suggest you make getting your butt down to the lost and found a priority right about now. There's a couple here that might be yours, and I'm not planning on playing babysitter forever.

Number two: For anybody looking to make a quick buck, you find me one of these things —


— and we'll talk bounty for it.

And number three: while I realize this is asking a lot of a world where the application of physics itself occasionally depends on whether or not you've got a piece of plastic clipped to your coat, is it even possible to get an actual turkey around here, or am I going to have to go make do with serving up some kind of fire chicken or psychic goose next week?

( Off-Network | Current Contents of Albert Rosenfield's Briefcase )

~
[It's afternoon waning toward evening in Saffron City, and at the moment Albert Rosenfield can be found in one of the city's small Pokemon parks, a briefcase stowed securely on a nearby bench and a pink rubber ball in one hand. With him today are his Scyther, obediently hovering near the bench and briefcase like a good underling, and his Poochyena, who appears to be more interested in the ball than anything else.

Albert, meanwhile, is spending the majority of his time giving the ball a series of thoughtful squeezes in his hand while he thinks, but occasionally rears back and lets it fly in a surprisingly graceful arc — at which point Gandhina unfailingly tears off after it, paws scrabbling at the grass and dirt as she hurtles off into the distance to retrieve her toy.]

The problem isn't going to be isolating it, it's going to be getting it to stick around long enough to do any good. However those mushrooms came about, evolution or divine design, you've got to give them some credit — we're looking at pretty nasty stuff here. Direct contact ought to be the easier of the two to handle, once we come up some way of making the neutralizing agent stick. Respiratory...unless you've got any bright ideas, we're gonna need a mask.

[At this point, Gandhina comes charging back with a now-somewhat-slobbery ball in her teeth, and Albert crouches down to retrieve it from her, but sets it aside and stays down to examine her adorable puppy muzzle and jowls.]

Hold still, you dumb mutt — you know, I was going to say it'd be a problem to cut off the use of your jaws with a rig like that, but anything that keeps you from picking up everything under the sun —

[Pleased by the attention and presuming these words of her master's are praise, Gandhina's tail is wagging at about a mile a minute.]

Dummy, grab the tape measure and toss it over here. Not the easiest task in the world without a set of opposable thumbs, I know, but hey, you're a bright bug, I'm sure you're up to the challenge.

[And then, as a Scyther leans over to retrieve the aforementioned tape measure, he abruptly notices that the Gear is on and quickly — and probably a little guiltily — shuts it off.]

~
[Later, a more intentional bit of commentary from Albert hits the network.]

So whose bright idea was it to hide all the tolerable cities on the other end of a six-hour train ride? Skyscrapers, business districts, a concert hall. Five minutes out of the station and I'd already counted eight coffee peddlers.

Now all that's left is to turn a corner and come across a bakery selling thirty-one flavors of pie, and by golly, we'll have ourselves the makings of heaven here.

[So Johto, have you ever been treated to the sight of a happy baby Togepi up close and personal? Well, if not, today you're going to have that pleasure as this video comes on; trilling quietly but cheerfully, Egghead the Togepi has somehow found his way up onto the surface where Albert last abandoned his Gear and is now happily amusing himself by poking at the buttons. Hence, the video that follows is sporadic and clipped in parts; sometimes the video cuts out entirely and switches to audio, while at other times there are large chunks missing that come interspersed with gibberish text.

When the video is on, however, the network at large is treated to the sight of Egghead peering merrily into the camera, surrounded in the periphery by an assortment of items that comprise Albert's work over the past month — stacks of paper covered in neat but cramped handwriting, small plastic bags with what appear to be samples of berries, powders, leaf clippings, mushrooms, bits of fur, and other assorted snippets inside, an open box of latex gloves, and half a pack of cigarettes.

However, there appears to be some commotion going on in the background, providing a decidedly odd soundtrack to Egghead's playing. Some of it is the recognizably nervous woofing of a Poochyena who is pretty sure her trainer wouldn't be happy to discover Egghead's antics; most of it, however, is Albert's rapid and acerbic tone itself.]

—best we're going to get in this damn — I'll duct-tape you to that table, Thing, if you don't quit trying to make a speedy getaway. What do you think you are, the Harry Houdini of coconut crabs? All right, now where's th—

[The video cuts, and then—]

dddddddddfifffffffffioooooooooo

[And a minute later, the video resumes—]

—nna do you first to keep him still, and then you're the follow-up to put him to sleep, got it? ...Hey, don't give me that look, princess, Cooper told you to behave and I'm not exactly thrilled to be depending on a five-foot owl and an electric mutt for this, either.

[Abruptly, the video cuts out, but the audio continues.]

Okay, now I just need — Dummy, you better not be touching anything, if I have to sterilize you again I'm go—

[And then—]

afdsfafdfdfdfdfdffffffdfsssefwees

[A while later, the video resumes—]

—kay. Now listen, it'll be just like you practiced. Don't start thinking too much, got it? Calm, confident hand. ...Scythe blade. Whatever.

All right. Gandhina, take Egghead and get out of he—what are you doing? Leave that alo—

[And with one last half-pitiful, half-guilty whimper from Gandhina, the feed closes for the final time.]


[OOC: Responses from Albert will come ICly a while after this post, once Thing's emergency tochukaso removal surgery has concluded. Because what happens to a Paras when it evolves is just plain scary, man. Also, Tricia the Manectric and Holmes the Noctowl, referenced herein, were borrowed with Coop-mun's permission!]

[Good morning, Johto! Today, for your viewing pleasure, we have...what appears to be the rather dark and damp interior of a Poochyena's mouth, complete with glistening teeth and a tiny smear of drool at the edge of the camera feed. Not a very decent view, but that's okay, because there's plenty of audio to make up for that — and it seems we've tuned in right in the middle of some rather belligerent ranting...]

—ow what kind of game you're playing here, lady, but I have neither the time nor the patience to stand around while some overzealous kitchen marm tries to stuff me full of animal crackers and ship me off to elementary school. I want to know who you are, I want to know where I am, and most importantly I want to know how the hell you got me here to this godforsaken boondocks in the first place. I have plenty of work to do, and I do not have time for your inane prattle. Just give me some answers so I can be on my way.

[There is some background chatter here, which careful listeners may recognize as Mom's standard speech.]

Listen, June Cleaver, I'll make this very clear: I could not care less about these Puggymans you insist on rambling continuously about. The question is simple: where the hell am I?

[More background chatter! Are we sensing a trend?]

Hn. Forget it.

[Footsteps begin to tap across the linoleum, and in response, the camera begins to shake; evidently, the owner of those teeth is trotting over to give her own greeting to this rather angry newcomer to Johto. And it appears, when the footsteps pause, that he's just noticed her.]

What do you want?

[More shaking of the camera, and then suddenly there is bright light and a whole lot of twisting and rotating as the man apparently takes the Gear out of the dog's mouth and turns it over in his hand, twisting it every which way and tapping it as he inspects it. People who get motion sickness, this is really not the video for you.]

...what is this, a toy or some kind of Star Trek — HELLO.

[And hopefully no one had their volume turned up on their gear, because the man holding it is using his Outside Voice as he addresses the microphone that is apparently about three inches away from his face at the moment.]

I DON'T SUPPOSE YOU'VE GOT SOME ANSWERS FOR ME, MR. SCOTT?