The question is simple. It’s one of respect. Now, you may think you respect me. You may tell yourself that. You may tell me that. But I don’t care what you tell me. I care what your actions tell me. And, my friend? A pokeball? You don’t put Don Honchkrow in a pokeball. That is not respect. It breaks my heart to see you treat me like this.
And what else can I do? When I am disrespected, do I not need to respond? Take Jimmy here, for example. Not the brightest Murkrow. But he has respect. In truth, trainer, it is the pokemon that are easy to trust. It is the trainers like you who forget your place. And there will be another trainer. There is always another would-be “master,” who thinks they’ve gotta “catch em all.” You do not catch the Don. And if you are very, very lucky, the Don decides not to catch you.
You, my friend, were not lucky. Now I have to ask the boys to get rid of you.
Oh, and boys? Make sure Officer Jenny has to really work to identify the body of our trainer friend. We have to give the cops something to do, after all. And it always pays to keep public servants busy.