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While Team Rocket's executives were busy with their meeting, Ash prepared to visit the Goldenrod Gym alone with Pikachu, Meowth, and Chansey. Given Sabrina's infamous habit of turning challengers into dolls, he didn't want to risk his friends' safety.
"Are you sure you don't want us to come?" Elesa asked, watching Ash pack supplies.
"Safer this way," Ash replied. "Until I confirm Sabrina's in a good mood, you're all one tantrum away from becoming plush toys. Especially you, Elesa."
"Me?" Elesa pointed at herself, confused.
"Sabrina's a psychic. She can monitor the entire city. Right now, she's probably watching us—"
"Correct." A cold, monotone voice cut through the air as Sabrina teleported beside Ash. He didn't flinch, having expected this.
"No doll-making attempts yet. Guess you're in a decent mood today?"
"I was*," Sabrina replied, her gaze icy. "Then I saw you surrounded by girls. Worse, you prioritized inspecting floor tiles over visiting me. Unacceptable."
Ash scratched his cheek awkwardly. "We're old friends! What's the rush?"
"I am impatient. So I've come to claim you."
"Uh… Alright, folks!" Ash turned to the group. "Elesa, Misty, Yellow, Brock—gotta handle this first. Be back soon—"
"Enough talking." Sabrina snapped her fingers, teleporting Ash, Pikachu, Meowth, and Chansey away. She then turned to Elesa. "You stole a head start. I should have retrieved him sooner. Borrowing him briefly. You'll receive an invitation to my home later."
Elesa smirked, pulling out a black card Ash had given her. "Take your time. We'll be shopping."
Misty and Yellow exchanged worried glances. "Will Ash be okay…?"
"Relax," Elesa reassured them. "Sabrina just wants his undivided attention. You'll understand once you've spent more time with him."
Sabrina nodded. "He will return unharmed. Await my invitation."
With that, the girls headed to the mall while Brock—still weak from vomiting—was rushed to the hospital. Unfortunately for him, his luck hit rock bottom when a burly male nurse greeted him.
"Welcome back to the land of the living!" The nurse smiled cheerfully. "Severe dehydration and gastrointestinal distress. We'll begin with a rectal exam."
"Wait! I just kissed the wrong person! My butt is fine—!" Brock flailed, but the nurse waved him off.
"Your friend prepaid. We're thorough here. Machamp, hold him down."
"MACHAMP!" The four-armed Pokémon flipped Brock onto his stomach, pinning him effortlessly.
"Let's begin, shall we?" The nurse brandished a gloved hand.
"NOOOOO—!!!"
Brock's agonized wails echoed through the hospital.
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