A/N: Oh no... I'm writing another Team Galactic crackfic? I'm sorry, everyone!

I do not own Team Galacitc, nor its team members or inhabitants or events that take place in the building. But after this is through being written, I don't know if I would want to anyway...

Also, the Talk similie came from an idea sparked by a friend I talk to from a different website, so it's also not entirely mine.

Cyrus was tired. When Cyrus was tired, he got cranky.

Cyrus was usually a cranky old fellow anyway, so most people tended to stay out of his way. I mean, honestly, who would want to get in the way of a forty-some-odd year-old man, out to accomplish world domination? Especially with cheekbones that prominent. It was like they were little shelves on his face, seriously! He would stay in his office, among his whirring machines he invented himself, and continue to plot about his ideal world and occasionally fantasize about how awesome it would be to be ruler of the world. It was only when he started to giggle quietly while in suck fantasies that his crew and commanders would get slightly nervous about his mental state.

But when he was doing his research or inventing something and was up days on end, he would get tired. His eyes would get bloodshot, he'd suck in his cheeks and make them even more pronounced, and he'd get crankier than usual. On days like this, everything bad seemed to go wrong. The copy machine would spurt ink all over the place, the computers would crash, the kitchens would explode, and the like. On days like that, people usually lost their job, their lunch break, or their balls, depending on how nasty Cyrus felt at the moment.

This particular morning, nothing bad had yet to happen. Cyrus was still cranky though, and he opened up the PA system to make an announcement to the building.

"Any Grunt to get a couple of beds into the spare room upstairs for me gets a promotion." he said. The building froze at this offer, questioning his reasoning, but it was only for a second. The two Grunts closest to the doors, a boy and a girl, shot out them and skidded down the ledge to the Veilstone Department Store, quickly sprinting inside and buying a pair of beds and sprinting back out of the store, one supporting the front end of the two mattresses and the other supporting the back of them, the frames bouncing along on top.

When Cyrus walked in to the extra room, he found a pair of Grunts standing there proudly, two beds already made and set up before his eyes. Grunts were standing outside the room in jealousy, muttering darkly under their breaths at the smug pair. That day, the two grunts were promoted. His hair was changed to blue, and hers to a purple color. Both were given new outfits that made them stand out from the usual sea of green bowl cuts and new names: Commanders Saturn and Jupiter.

From that day forward, those beds had remained there for when Cyrus got tired, so he could take a nap without the rest of Team Galactic disturbing him. He had even hung a little sign over the beds on the wall that told everyone to make sure there were no occupants in the bed at the time before getting into them, should they forget and anger their leader.

Cyrus didn't think he would ever have to do what he was going to do in the next few days.

It was a chipper morning, as per usual in Veilstone. However, due to the exact location of the Veilstone Department store building, cast a shadow over the Team Galactic Headquarters, which was just fine for them. The building was planned out that way.

Cyrus had just finished doing his research over the three legendary spirits, Mesprit, Azelf, and Uxie. It had taken him all of two days to finalize a few myths and legends about them, but he had done it. And now, he was tired and cranky and ready for a nap. Thank goodness for beds, right?

So, Cyrus packed up the papers littering his desk, threw them all into a manila folder, and marched out of his office. Grunts quickly stepped aside as their Leader, complete with hunched shoulders, messy hair, and dark-circled eyes stalked down the hall towards the nap room. A few of them whispered hurriedly behind their hands, but Cyrus paid no attention to that, as they did that often when he was around.

As he approached the nap room, the Grunts changed from loud whispers to others to scattering quickly and disappearing in moments. This was something Cyrus found quite odd, but he kept it to himself, being too tired to care about their strange actions. They were Grunts, after all.

Cyrus pushed open the door to the nap room and shut it behind him just as quickly, wanting to ensure total silence when he fell asleep. He strode across the room and up to the first bed, which he didn't notice was lumpier than usual, and tore the covers back.

In all his years, the sight before him was the least expected one he had ever thought he would see.

Both Saturn and Mars cranked their heads in his direction, identical looks of pure terror on their faces, and identical lacking of clothes on their bodies.

Cyrus could only stare for a moment, speechless. Mars' face had turned a red color to match her hair exactly, keeping him wondering where her skin stopped and her hair began. Saturn had turned the opposite, completely pale and shaking from holding himself up above his partner this... stiffly.

Cyrus abruptly turned on his heel as Saturn opened his mouth to explain. Not a one of them said a word as he left, shut the door, and kept walking.

Grunts that he had passed earlier made significantly less whispering noises as he passed this time, but all looked at him curiously, questioning where the yelling and shouting was. Weren't two of his commanders just breaking rule number six, no making love on company headquarters? Weren't they using the nap room for inappropriate things?

However, Cyrus just walked back to his office and sat at the large desk, hands in his lap, completely wide awake now. How long had this been going on, his two Commanders, a couple of his most trusted, been fooling around in the nap room? Or ANY room, for that matter?

Cyrus planned to get to the bottom of it, and make an example of them to Team Galactic. While he couldn't afford to lose them, there were a few ways he could stop this...


Saturn was sitting at his desk with his head in his hands. Why was it so hard to listen to the rules? Why?! Stupid Mars, seducing him with her charm and beauty... Seriously, this whole thing should be her fault. Her and that stupid, easy-access skirt she wore.

Saturn's head shot up abruptly when his office door opened, and he paled once more when he saw his boss walk in, stone-faced.

This is it, I'm going to get fired. He thought. Goodbye, Team Galactic.

Cyrus sat down on the surface of his desk, crossed one ankle over the opposite knee, and looked down at him. He sighed.

"Saturn, you and I need to have a talk." he said finally. Saturn allowed himself a tiny nod. "You obviously recall the situation earlier, do you not?"

Saturn's pale face tinted with bright red. "Yes sir, I do."

"I'd like you to know that I am not firing you." Cyrus started. Saturn, though relieved, felt another blow coming, even worse than getting fired. "I am, however, going to make an example of you and Mars today at the meeting."

"Meeting, sir?" Saturn asked tentatively. Cyrus nodded.

"Team Galactic is going to have a meeting in that large room we never use. You know, the one that the other commanders thought would be useful for getting the Team all riled up for a mission or something?"

"Yes sir, I know the one."

"Good. Make sure you're there today at three sharp, I have to have a talk with you and the others." Cyrus nodded, then stood and dusted himself off, then left the room without another word. Saturn cringed inside. Why? Why did it always have to be him? He slipped up one time, and made one little mistake, and now his boss was sitting on his desk like some hot secretary and telling him he was going to have a sex talk with the entire company!

He shuddered at this thought. Well, it probably wasn't a sex talk, the boss wasn't like that. It was the only thought that gave him comfort at a time like this.


"I know that every one of you knows why I called you all in here today." Cyrus said, standing behind a podium on a stage that overlooked the entirety of Team Galactic's employees, all of whom were stuffed into a large room they never used. You know, the one that the other commanders thought would be useful for getting the Team all riled up for a mission or something.

There was a collective murmuring around the room. Mars and Saturn, two of the five current commanders, slumped down in the front row while the other three snickered at them from either side. Commanders were required to sit in the front row, so as to get the best impression of the speech given to them. Cyrus sighed.

"Well, in light of recent events involving a couple of my commanders and the nap room," Cyrus started, "I found it appropriate to tell you all why I created rule six."

A few of the Grunts dared to laugh aloud at this comment, while the rest of the room went up in a buzz of chatter about the announcement. After a moment or so, the boss held up a hand and the chatter died down.

"I know you all think it's a stupid rule, that you're obviously old enough to make your own decisions as adults, and that it doesn't hurt anybody." he said. He watched a few heads nod. "However, it does hurt someone; Team Galactic.

"I'd like to spend this time explaining to you about the Pidgey and the Beedrill." he said. At this the entire room went up in the loud voices of everyone expressing their shock in some way, shape, or form. Saturn's mouth dropped open, while Mars turned completely pale and the other commanders snorted into their hands uncontrollably. Cyrus waited patiently for the room to quiet down. When it did, he opened his mouth, and Saturn wished for nothing more at the moment than to have it shut tightly again.

"See, when a man and a woman love each other very much," he began, then hesitated. "or, I suppose, get very drunk, they get some urges. You know, those ones you start feeling when you reach middle school that makes the girls giggle and the boys adjust their pants uncomfortably? Those are the ones." The entirety of the room was silent now, jaws slightly agape and eyes glassed over in disbelief. There were two reasons for this: One, the fact that words like this were coming so simply from their Boss's mouth, as if he did this kind of thing every day. And two, because they were actually getting a sex talk from their boss!

"Well, when said man and woman feel these urges, they then feel the need to express themselves through these urges. And these urges usually lead to what we call the Pidgey and the Beedrill." He paused for a dramatic effect, the entire room now dead silent. Their boss was seriously giving them The Talk. Why did life fail so much at the moment?

"See, think of it like this," he began again. "the boys are like plugs, and the girls are like outlets." He held out one hand for one option and the other for the other option. "The boys have all the parts that stick out that are made to fit nicely into the convenient slots of the girls." The entire room groaned when he said that, whether it be in disgust or impatience.

"Now, when the two parts connect nicely, there's electricity that is generated." he went on to explain. "But if they don't fit nicely, the outlet will spark and burn the plug, and as the plugs know from experience, that isn't a nice feeling." Another groan was generated at this comment, though with much more masculine gusto then feminine. "And sometimes, the outlets have those little plastic covers on them so kids can't stick their forks in there and zap themselves, in which case the male should just give up right there and not even try. In any case, that is what happens when a man and a woman love each other very much, or get very drunk."

He paused and scanned the room. Not a single Grunt was asleep, unlike usual with his lectures. Saturn and Mars were slumped in their seats, covering their faces with their hands, while even the commanders around them had paled and were no longer making fun of them as they had been. Cyrus nodded and continued.

"Now, I can understand why you'd all want that, but there is a downside to this." he said. "Say there's a sudden attack on the building, and a couple of my best Grunts or Commanders are busy generating electricity in the nap room? Or, what if, after all that, they end whatever relationship they had? Both situations put Team Galactic in jeopardy. If they end it, then there's tension where there should be unity in the Team. And, well, sex should just be avoided anyway. Because if you have sex, you could get pregnant and die." At some of the looks on the more gullible Grunt's faces, he rolled his eyes. "Well, not really die, but you have to take leave from the Team and we don't want that."

He clapped his hands together now, nodding at the crowd. "Does everyone understand?" At the unison nod, he gestured to the door. "Then you all may go about your usual business."

Cyrus had never seen a room empty as fast as that one had. Every single Grunt and Commander raced to the exit as if there were cookies waiting for them on the other side of the door. And when they had all left, he dusted his hands together and smirked a little to himself, then patted himself on the back for the job well done. He was sure that he'd never have to give another Talk to them in the future, that much was certain."

Outside the room, Commander Jupiter was waiting for him, her hands behind her back, and a proud smile on her face. "Sir, I think you got the message across loud and clear." she said. "Thank you for that, I don't think we'll be having any more issues with this after your Talk."

"Thank you, Jupiter." he said. "I think it did go over about as well as I'd hoped." She gave him a pat on the back.

"I think it did too." she said. Her words were parting ones, and with that, Cryus went back to his office, unaware of the Grunts staring at the piece of paper taped to his back, the words clearly visible in bold permanent marker.

I'm a Virgin.

A/N: I hope nobody takes offense to that, I just thought it was a funny idea. If you do, my sincerest apologies.

And with that, I'm off to go to bed. I've had so much homework lately, (I'm in AP History AND English, plus marching band, so I don't have a lot of time to write anymore,) so it's a wonder I managed to get anything up at all. But this was half-finished already.

For those wondering, I'll update When Life Gives you Roses soon, I swear.

The moral: If your boss gives you the sex talk, he's most likely a virgin.