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Opting for ome light small-talk to help calm hearts and minds, you decide to start at the beginning: "<span class="mu-g">I passed the JTE with a B+</span>" Your parents beam at you, Dad smiling through a beard full of brown gravy. "<span class="mu-g">Professor Kirsch toured us around the laboratory; there were two others there. Girl named Shelly, she got a Squirtle.</span>" Mom jumps upon an opportunity for gossip: "Mrs Weedler's kid?" You distantly recall that it's the last name of her barber, nodding as you do. "How nice! Did you get along?" - "<span class="mu-g">She was okay. Seemed friendly. But we didn't really talk a lot.</span>" Your father congenially winks at you from behind a napkin before helping himself to some rice and passing the gravy boat. But it is Mom who first speaks up: "Well, that's a start. I'm sure you'd make good friends." You're not sure whom she's trying to convince here, and change subject: "<span class="mu-g">Also there was a guy named Yuri. Yuri Benzhegamov, I believe?</span>"
And in a flash Dad looks irate: "Benzhegamov! Must be Piotr's kid. His daddy bought the Mine after the earthslide. Said he wished to develop some kind of factory on the grounds. Then immediately fired fifty men. I hear the whole compound still sits and rots!" Huh. "<span class="mu-g">You know, I went exploring there.</span>" - "There? Why?" - "<span class="mu-g">I heard there's Arons there.</span>" - "Ah, I recall. Those always were among your faves. But that would be bad news indeed." - "<span class="mu-g">What? Why?</span>" - "See, my boy, Arons, they don't stay small and cute forever. They become... darling?" - "Yes, dear?" - "What do you college types call <span class="mu-i">Stollrak</span>? - "Lairon, dear." - "Right." Dad faces you again: "They become Lairondear." You swear your mother just stifled a laugh at that.
"And you see Lairondear, th-" - "Oh quit it, you!" - "Regretfully." He pauses to shoot her an exaggerated pout, then continues on undeterred: "At any rate, they like to strike sparks with their armor by rushing rocks or each other. Imagine a constant source of sparks in an environment completely caked in coal dust."
Oh. <span class="mu-i">Oh!</span> Your mother's expression darkens again. She clearly doesn't like the idea of you at the mine very much.
>"Someone should really catch at least one for the sake of the town!"
>"I suppose we ought to tell this to the PokeLab!"
>"I suppose we ought to tell this to police!"
>"Bulbmin's going to be big and mighty some day, also! I'm sure they'd get along!"
>Other (Write-in)
