Tibia moves with the grace and elegance of her kind, and Guzma's almost sure she'd do her Alolan kin proud. The Boneclub was pretty good to make mashed potatoes out of one of those Slimes, and Guzma can't help but applaud the little lady. I mean, she is still a lady, even if she's young and very tiny. It's perhaps for that reason that Golisopod lowers himself into an almost bow, and saunters over with a bit of a hop to his usual lumbering gait.

His partner here is a little too close to the line of Slimes, so with a slow twirl, his claws cut through them like the gelatinous masses they are. Flicking off goop from those glistening, dagger-like claws, he offers one very slowly and politely to his partner with a quiet rumble. It would be an honor.

And like a proud parent, Guzma double fucking fist-pumps the air. HELL YEAH, MY BOY IS A GODDAMN GENTLEMAN. "Treat 'er nice, Goli!"