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Life couldn't get any sweeter, though being the strange lad he was, he probably would have preferred spice to sweet. He had a roof over his head, a relatively steady "job" (so to speak), and access to some of the most updated technology. However, while lingering in his new dorm room within the large Rocket facility, he finally figured out one negative to his newest gig.

The Mess Hall was really far from his particular dorm.

1337 glanced down to his stomach for a moment, as it gurgled relatively quietly underneath his black jumpsuit. His usually smile-adorned face had a rather displeased frown upon it as he grunted out "Oh, shaddup already!" With his right hand, he lightly punched his own stomach, only for his stomach to complain loudly with what seemed like a groan. The relatively new agent had been vegging out for a day and a half, simply squeaking buy with pure hot sauce in his belly. It filled the space, but it really didn't have any substance to it, as he was relearning right now.

If it was possible for a visor to glare at something, that would be what 1337's visor would have been doing at the stomach. "Fine, fine, I'll go to the Mess Hall." Ironically, he uttered at his stomach "Yer too stubborn!" as he went to prepare for the journey.

Preparations: a handful of hot sauce packets you could get at any Mexican restaurant, and one bottle of a blackish liquid labeled "Satan's Blood."

He had to put on his gloves and boots too, but those weren't really preparations in the Rocket's mind. His card key for his dorm room would help too, but he always put it back in his side-pouch he kept slung over his left hip.

"Ready?" he asked himself once he had all the ammunition he desired. With a deep breath, he then exited his dorm room and began the LONG trek to the Mess Hall. Main Objective: FOOD!

WHY did he submit to his stomach's growling?!! WHY?!!!!!

By the time he made it to the mess hall, his feet felt as heavy as lead as he trudged his way into the line. However, once in line, he started to pile his plate up with whatever food he could. Roast Miltank, why not? Oddish-leaf salad? SURE! Tauros burger? DEFINITELY! By the time he was exiting the line, his tray was piled almost up to his chin with food. He'd make certain that his trip would be well spent, and if he had leftovers, he'd steal it back to his dorm room to ensure the delay in his next visit to the Mess Hall.

With heavy steps, he now searched out a place to sit and eat. His first choice would be to go to a table with plenty of girls, however, that option didn't seem very readily available at the moment. Glancing throughout the room, he soon enough saw the deciding factor. In fact, the deciding factor seemed to have a slight glowing aura around it.

"Dave's Insanity Sauce?!" he almost squealed in a fashion similar to an otaku-fangirl getting her favorite collectible signed by a Bishi. Whether the other Rocket wanted company or not, it was already decided: 1337 was coming to join him.

"I cannot believe that I have found someone else who is a fan of Dave's Insanity Sauce. You must be a real connoisseur of hot sauces!" 1337 crowed out as he sat himself right next to the white haired man.

Though the slight push with the other's finger didn't really push the bottle too far, 1337 managed to snatch the bottle up rather quickly. He held it up to about eye level and looked it over. "So does that mean this is the only hot sauce you like?" The bottle seemed well used, but that meant very little. It could have been a borrowed bottle of hot sauce, or it could have been the brand which Team Rocket left around in the kitchen.

The visored man set the bottle back on the table before digging for his own sacred treasures. However, as his fingers fumbled with getting into his side-pouch, he managed to catch the stray intense staring. It was always a nicety to not have to worry about being caught looking at someone when they were staring at you. Once he had his bottle and a couple little packets of hot sauce on the table, the looks were matched with a question.

"HA!" he bellowed out loudly as he took one of the smaller packets up to his toothy grin. Opening his mouth slightly, he placed the plastic edging under his left canine tooth before he clamped the teeth back together. Pulling slightly with his hand, the plastic easily shredded enough to actually get to the contents of the package. As he started to decorate his pile of food (if you could call it that anymore) with the sauce, he finally gave more of an answer than a simple boast.

"It's two pieces I specially made myself. You seem like a smart enough guy though, you tell me what you think it is." He flashed another toothy grin at the pale-haired comrade before opening up his remaining packets of hot sauce.

While this other Grunt rambled on about the possibilities, 1337 was tending to more important matters. He had unloaded his smaller, less important packets of hot sauce. However, he was now getting to the good stuff. First thing he'd have to decide which morsel of GLOP was worthy of being the start of his meal. With a fork, he tugged at something that looked like meat, though due to the vast quantity of food he had brought to the table with him, the identity was now much more obscure. At first, it seemed stuck, for he tugged loosely and the chunk didn't move. The second tug actually jostled all the other food around the one morsel. It was the third tug that was lucky, for he managed to not only pull out the meat, but it didn't cause a food avalanche. With such being decided, he then opened up the bottle of black liquid.

Before tilting the bottle and putting a single drop of the black ooze onto his meat, he made certain to point out "...don't get this stuff in your eyes. It's basically pepper spray concentrate." Fortunately, 1337 had never had such an unfortunate thing happen to himself, though he had witnessed the hilarity of someone else having such happen to them. Once the piece of meat was properly spiced, he put it in his mouth and started to chew. Ah, the familiar tingle of the pepper extract on his tongue was very welcome.

With his mouth still full of spicy meat, he finally replied to the guess with a simple "Yah, 's wu I thaw." It was always nice to have smart people who didn't need things explained to them.

Chew, chew, chew, swallow, GULP. Once the bit of food was down in his empty stomach, he set the fork down and used his left arm to lean upon the table.

"Claris by name and agent, though ya technically don't have an Agent name, which is bold in itself, age of 17 years, and should I mention much else, I'd probably piss ya off." He gave a cocky grin, though as an afterthought, probably the mere mention of something that would piss the boy off would be enough to trigger some sort of short fuse. However, the lack of typing motions was hint enough that 1337 had done his homework after completing the first training mission in Ambergris Town.

Once he had finished his version of gloating, he went back to looking at his pile of food. Now that he had his mere sampling of flavor, he would be content in dousing the rest of the food in a light sprinkling of Satan's Blood. With that, he snatched up his bottle and tilted it, occasionally jostling it to encourage more of the black ooze to drip onto his food.

One had to seriously wonder if 1337 had any taste buds left...

Behind his visor, he rolled his eyes, fully knowing his eyes were completely obscured. It wasn't like he hadn't heard the sob story of bad histories before. Everyone figuratively had a skeleton in their closet, even if it was the skeleton of a Mouse Pokemon. All bad histories were the same to 1337, despite the fact the details were always differently. However, being the intelligent man he was, the techno-Grunt left well enough alone.

So instead, he continued on the other focuse: HOT SAUCE and SPICE. "Yeah, yeah, yeah... it's good s***." Straight to the point, and yet, completely dismissing the conversation altogether. With a final flick of the wrist, the Satan's blood was sufficiently drizzled over the pile of food.

"Well, Bon Appetit!" he said cheerfully before he truly began to chow down. Nearby onlookers needed to be careful, they could have lost a limb if they got too close. It was like watching a vacuum that could chew plow through the load of food and make it disappear.

1337 ate fast and furiously as if he was in an eating competition, however, this was far from the case. When he got to finishing about half of the pile he stopped to take a break. Even in eating half of that pile of food in that short amount of time must have certainly broken some sort of World Record. However, this agent could care less about being famous over something so trivial as his rate of consumption.

The after effects were always amusing to look at. Due to his lack of grace while pigging out, he usually tended to have some sort of mess on his face. Today's "masterpiece" had spread out onto his visor, as well as spread out over his mouth and partially on his cheeks. It was a mixture of orange, black, and brown goop that had so carefully painted itself onto his face.

This agent wasn't ignorant as to this problem, and in fact had prepared for such things. However, his plans were only half baked at that point, for the few napkins he had swiped for the purpose of cleaning himself up had managed to get themselves buried under the food. His lips twisted a bit, then puckered up as he delicately pulled out one of the napkins from underneath the swamp of food and sauce. It was thoroughly soaked with grease and the Satan's blood. The pucker then formed into an annoyed frown. It was highly unlikely that the other napkins would be in any better a condition.

"...ey, y'got an extra napkin or two I can swipe off'ya?" he asked his current companion.

The napkins fluttered slightly as they descended onto the table, however, the grace of the cloth would probably go unnoticed, especially by the visored man. He reached out and dragged it towards himself before managing to pick it up off the table. In a few quick motions, he had wiped his face of most of the mess, though there was still a small bit on the middle of his cheek.

"Thanks" he tossed out right before resuming his mealtime. The garbage disposal had been given a long enough break and he was ready and rearing to go. Despite the fact that he had piled up the food so he could take some back with him to his dorm, it did not seem like such was going to end up happening. The pile of food continued to shrink and shrink, until there was maybe a handful of a meat-like substance left on his platter. It was there that 1337 stopped and once again wiped off the disaster of a mess that had splattered all over his face.

It wasn't like he was full, but instead, he figured he could give that last little chunk of food to that Pokemon of his. Beldum and its evolutions surprisingly weren't synthetic enough for his tastes, since they actually required food still. And if there was one thing that bothered 1337, it was taking responsibility for something else.

With that, he passed the now used napkin back to its owner.