"Tibia," Guzma grunts, muttering a not-so-sincerely sorry in there at the end. He's not really one for nicknames, after all, only calling his own pokemon slight abbreviations of their given, species name from time to time. Anyway, he really doesn't have the time to be thinking on that. When the pokemon and Trainer share glances, Guzma feels the remnants of his soul begin to wither and die, slowly.

"You're killing me, man..." What level even is she?! If she hasn't learned Focus Energy, then...hoo. Hoo, man, he's praying she's not some sort of hatchling or something because... Because Guzma will have words. "Try, uh...Leer? No, shoot--Tail Whip, I guess."

You're not giving him much to work with here, and Guzma's scratching his head to think, chewing his lip and shooting a grim look to the sideshow host as he plays a sad violin tune for a second when Guzma rubs his face. Why you gotta be like that, asshole? Man, what he wouldn't give if he could--...wait. He glances first at the scene, then Wade, and chews his lip. Lord, he's gonna get shit on if this doesn't work.

"Golisopod, once the lady is done...pitch a fastball, man. We looking a home run, too, y'dig?" Golisopod looks over his shoulder, antennae twitching, then back at Tibia and rumbles, nodding his head slowly. If you say so, dude......he trusts you, at least.