The Rocket snorts. "Yeah, I can see that," he comments, gruffly. "It ain't like we've had a brawl like this in a while either. If you ask me, kid thinks they're the hero of some cartoon or video game--like they can go toe-to-toe with someone four times their age and twice their size with barely any training and come out on top just because I'm the bad guy and they're the good guy. That ain't how it works. Bad guys win all the time and there ain't anything you or I or they can do about it."

He reaches over to an abandoned stall and grabs what looks like a TM left behind during previous looting. Shoves it in his pocket.

"Keep a better eye on your kid," the Rocket admonishes--and then a Xatu swoops down to hover at his shoulders and the two of them, Rocket and Pokemon, are gone.