That dude was pissing him off. His flirting with Misty had been going on for so long, Misty was smiling! Or was she trying to get back at him?

Either way, this jackass was going down.

… If he knew what to do about it.

All Ash knew how to gripe about someone flirting with Misty was to just sit back and brood like some black, duckbutt-haired bad boy in an anime he'd seen once. And even then he was bad at it! His nose wrinkled as Misty laughed at what must've been a pretty shitty joke.

He growled and ground his teeth while taking a sip of his drink. The guy was a good-looking douchebag he'd seen every now and then at League events. He always schmoozed with the ladies, and Misty was no different. And she knew it!

The conclusion that she was doing it to piss him off was pretty obvious. And the way she looked at him was an even bigger insult! She was looking at him almost all lovey-dovey and flirtatiously.

DAMMIT!

Alright, that's it. Ash smacked his hand on the bar, which got the bartender's attention. "Yes, Mr. Ketchum?" the bartender asked.

"Sorry," he said. "I'm just–" he pointed at the jerk who was hitting on Misty.

"Oh," said the bartender. "Go ahead. Just don't fight him, okay?"

"Okay," Ash said.

He stood up and stormed over to the guy.

"Oh, really?" Misty laughhed and smiled at him flirtatiously. "And then what?"

"And then–Oh, hello, Mr. Ketchum."

"Ash?"

"Hello, NEWMAN," Ash said. "What were you just saying?"

"I was just talking about a time when I single-handedly defeated Team Plasma," said Newman.

"Been there, done that," Ash replied. "Come on Misty, let's go."

"Oh, but Ash," she groaned as he took her by the hand and led her away.

It didn't take too long before she was NOT happy with his behavior. "ASH, what are you doing!?" she snapped. "Do you know who he is?"

"Of course I do, he's a jerk!" Ash replied.

"Not what I meant," she replied. "Seriously, you're acting like a little kid!"

"Well, I'm SORRY!" he said. "But you were looking at him the way I look at you–" He clamped his hand over his mouth, but it was too late. Misty stared at him with her eyes wider than a Snorlax's stomach.

"Oh, um… wow," she said. "What do you mean by that?"

"I, um… kinda… like you?" he confessed.

"That's not an excuse to act immature," she said.

"I know," he replied. "How can I make it up?"

"By taking me out for ice cream," she said.

"Done."