There was an old saying-how did it go again? If you suck, practice more. If you can't hold your liquor, could you drink less...
Lorelei had something to attend to and returned to the Indigo Plateau that night, leaving Gary and Falkner behind. The two of them were now looking up at God.
More precisely, they were looking at the mighty Lance on the Gym's roof.
"Lance! Come down! Nobody's going to laugh at your nose!" Gary craned his neck and shouted.
"Ah! What even is this?!" Falkner clawed at his hair anxiously.
Pidgeot was already on standby, ready to catch Lance the moment he jumped.
Clearly drunk, Lance stood atop the Violet Gym's tower, swinging his cape and holding forth.
"To think that I, of the Dragon Clan, Doduo... Huh?" Rubbing his forehead, Lance grew even more miserable. "Screw Doduo! I'm a Dragon-type! A dragon!"
Below the tower, Gary and Falkner exchanged speechless looks.
Who would have thought this guy would sleepwalk when he got drunk?!
By the time Gary and Falkner noticed, he was already sitting on the very edge of the tower...
Granted, with the physical toughness of people in the Pokémon World, a fall would, at worst, leave him paralyzed from the waist down.
But all his yelling was hardly doing the city's image any favors~
His cheeks flushed red, Lance shifted his position and continued, "To think that I, Lance, made my debut at ten, showed Elite Four potential at twelve, and rose to the ranks of the Elite Four at eighteen...
"Then... I spent ten years in the Elite Four!
"Kanto's Victory Road was just too hard!
"After all that trouble, I came to Johto and finally became Champion.
"Only to run into that bastard Bugsy!
"Who ambushes their superior from behind with String