TEEN: - Ongoing (Anime?, Humor, PG, light cursing) Night of the Horriffic Monster-Like Thingy Guy

[A Concerned Solomon]

Chapter 1: An Unlikely Hero


Somewhere out there, Ash Ketchum was in a heated Pokemon match.

Lucky bastard.

It wasn't going so well for Jack. His Kanto quest had left him with seven badges, one short of the amount required to enter the Pokemon League. Obviously, this was the most important thing in the world, for the winners may or may not be considered Pokemon Masters. In fact, it is possible that everybody or nobody at all is a Pokemon Master. Perhaps both at the same time. Nobody is certain just what a Pokemon Master is or how you become one, but Jack was convinced it involved collecting eight badges.

Poor bastard. However, being a poor bastard in itself may make someone a Pokemon Master. But what do Pokemon Masters do? It's entirely conceivable that they walk around trying to become Pokemon Masters.

Anyway, back to the story.

Jack was missing one badge: the Cascadebadge. The overly popular leader of the Gym that gave those away was long gone. Good riddance to her. Of course, her very presence makes Ash Ketchum a poor bastard, and thus quite possibly a Pokemon Master.

This story is not about Ash Ketchum. If you thought it was, you are a stupid bastard. While those may also be Pokemon Masters, I doubt it very much. This story is about Jack, your average original trainer. He obviously is thus comely to great extremes, knows everything Pokemon inside out (Maybe he even knows what a Pokemon Master is! If so, he'd better tell me...), and has a rival who suspiciously resembles a pile of Tauros manure. But one thing was different about this one, something very important.

He was from Viridian City!

This makes a massive difference, for reasons that are also unknown, even to Jack himself. (Professor Oak may know, but he was, uh, researching the anatomy of Delia Ketchum when we came to press. That's how I got this nasty mark on my head. Now I'm scarred for life in more ways than one. I feel bad for Tracey. Unloved bastard.) For you see, most original trainers are from Pallet Town. Jack was from Viridian City. Why was this important? Becuase it helped me dodge writing any of the actual story up to this point.

The author had finally run out of stalling tactics, so Jack woke up and marched into town. "Cerulean City, here I come! I'm gonna get me a badge, a bike, a Zapdos, and a fishing rod! Then I'm getting out of this dump you call a fanfic!" What Jack failed to notice was that it was three o'clock in the morning.

"Shut up! Some people are trying to sleep!" came the emphatic reply. Jack quickly shut up and headed to town, unaware that the man in the window was not trying to sleep at all.

Remember the overly popular gym leader I mentioned before? The one whose name I dare not speak but is a synonym for Foggy? Good. Remember the lucky bastard I also mentioned before? Also good. If not, I suggest leaving the Pokemon fanfic section immediately. Now, it is believed by some that these two MUST be madly in love. Many of these people may be reading this dump I call a fanfic. (Hi Mom!) Some of these people are also in the Pokemon world itself. Living on first floor apartments in Cerulean City. And absolutely whacked out of their minds.

It takes a poor bastard to wipe this kind of scum out. Which is convenient, because the star of this dump I call a fanfic happens to be one. Lucky us. The world will need his help. Badly. Soon.

 

[A Concerned Solomon]

Chapter Two: An Unlikely Villain!

After shutting up the disturbance outside, Fisherman Ralph turned towards the brilliant device he had created from assorted trash found in the Cerulean Garbage Dump and Ozzy Ozbourne's hair. The ultimate weapon in the arsenal of Pokeshipping! "And now, I will forever change the plot, making the 'friendship' into romantic involvement! Take that, you non-Bikeshippy scum!"

"What is it?" Cooltrainer Beth was always interested in Ralph's absurd schemes, but she was a realist. "You do realize that it's hopeless, right? She's leaving the show!"

"Nonsense, you fool!" admonished Ralph. "It hasn't happened yet!"

"It did in Japan-" protested Beth.

"But not here!"

"Nonetheless, we cannot change what happened in Japan!"

"Are you saying that men are not masters of their own fate? That we have no say in the future? That we can't go for hamburgers because it didn't happen in Japan?" argued Ralph.

Beth tried to point out the obvious flaw in Ralph's reasoning. "Listen, Ralph. We CAN go for hamburgers-"

"Did that happen in Japan?"

"No, but-"

"How about in Mexico?"

"No. Just hear me out, okay? We're FANFICTION characters. We aren't bound by the continuing plot or anything of the sort," reasoned Beth

"So we can do whatever we want?"

"Only if the author wants us to do it."

"That's not fair! Read me my rights!"

"True, but wanting to do something is doing something, and since the author controls what we do, he controls what we want."

"But what if I don't want to want what he wants me to want?"

"I want to punch you, Ralph."

Ralph couldn't take anymore of this pointless debating. "Proving the obvious isn't what I do."

"No, Ralph, you're trying to prove the obviously wrong!"

"What? Curse you and your debaters traps! Let us just use the machine!" Ralph pushed a button on the remote control he was holding. "This machine will lower the temperature all across the planet to a uniform 15 degrees Farenheight! Since the bitchy tomboy dresses eternally for a heat wave, she will get COLD! And her love, being a nice guy, will give her his coat!"

Beth tried to follow the plan. "Assuming this works, wouldn't they be able to head indoors? And wouldn't you annoy everyone else on the planet?"

"Are the Japanese on this planet, Beth? Of course they are! And they'll get cold, too!"

Beth persisted. "But someone might try to stop us! Other people like warm weather, too!"

"To heck with them! Ash and Misty Romance forever!" cried Ralph.

"But wouldn't the machine need a ridiculous amount of electricity to freeze the entire face of the planet? I mean, the power plant's right here, but still, everyone else uses electricity. And you can't stop them with 'to heck with them,' either!"

"We'll see about that!"

"After this, can we go for burgers, Ralph? I'm hungry."

"Did that happen in Japan?"

***

Jack walked into the Cerulean City Pokemon Center. He dropped off his Pokemon at the front desk and headed for a "The Simpsons" arcade game near the back. Unfortunately, he didn't have a quarter. So Jack pulled out his Itemfinder and walked outside, continually searching for an item.

***

"Ralph, turn it off! You're gonna blow out the power grid!"

"Nonsense, Beth!"

"Why do I hang out with you, anyway?"

"I don't know..."

***

Jack kept pressing the button on the Itemfinder, searching desperately for a quarter. His sights were set on bringing down the high score of SMH (whoever that was) and taking his place as the greatest "The Simpsons" player in the history of Cerulean City's Pokemon Center. He held various records back in his hometown Viridian City and, more impressively, on tourist trap Cinnabar Island, where he was the all-time high score champion. He ducked into a nearby Disgusting Bob's Burgers 'N' Stuff (part of a nationwide fast-food chain which had survived largely based on accounting fraud on the part of Disgusting Bob, whose real name is unknown to this date.) Since nobody ever bought a burger from a Disgusting Bob's, the stores were open late, inviting various accountants inside and getting their help in fooling investors. However, there were no investors, since everybody knew better than to give Disgusting Bob (real name unknown) any money.

Jack's presence in the restaurant at 3:30 in the morning might have come as a shock to the cashier had there been one. Of course, Disgusting Bob found such a position to be a total waste of money, especially since no Disgusting Bob's ever had any money to take care of anyway. The same could be said of jobs like cook and janitor, since nobody would ever want to purchase a Disgusting Bob's Burger and thus there was no need to clean up the refuse from the wrappers or to make such burgers anyway. And still, Disgusting Bob's never lived up to the adjective half of its name, which still didn't help business much, because there was nothing there to buy, and nobody would want to buy it anyway if there was.

The area was clear of customers on this night, but the tables and seats were there and were immaculate, as was the source of light: a group of 100 fifty-watt bulbs placed in a mock chandelier which hung from the ceiling of the deserted restaurant. Jack at last heard a beep from the Itemfinder he was sweeping the place with. "All right!" he exclaimed to nobody in particular, "Itemfinder is indicating that there is an item near where I am standing! Now to find it." Jack bent down to the floor in search of (he hoped) a quarter with which to play "The Simpsons." He looked down n the floor, circled each table until he found.

"A Nugget? How useless is that! Just a piece of gold with no purpose whatsoever! What in the world can I do with this? I certainly can't use it to play "The Simpsons", that's for sure! I'll go find some schmuck to pawn it off on and get a quarter!"

As if cued by Jack's moronic decision, every electrical device in Cerulean City shut off immediately.

 

[A Concerned Solomon]

Chapter Three: A Chance Meeting

With the city in total darkness, any of a number of terrors could manifest itself. Jack had heard horror stories about "Misty's Song" songfics (Oh no! I said the name! You saw nothing.) and horribly clichéd encounters with the incredibly powerful Mewtwo.



Since the cave outside the city had collapsed, The Most Powerful Pokémon of Them All (whew, that was a long title for him!) had found a job working for the Cerulean City tourism board. The mayor figured that a well-known figure like Mewtwo could drive tourism down at least 26% and create an issue on which he could run for reelection. Surprising everyone, tourism shot up by 400% in the month Mewtwo had been on the job. Of course, there was a problem with mindless zombies marching through the town, chanting, "I will obey Mewtwo," so the mayor now had his issue anyway. From that point on, he began chanting, "I am the slave of Sabrina. Ph33r teh l337nessxorz!" (That he could pronounce words in l337 was so amazing that his approval rating exploded to 79%.) Jack did not concern himself with all of this. He just wanted to get to the Pokemon Center and get some rest.



"Jolteon , go! Use your Flash to light up the town!" But the lightning Pokémon did not appear. He reached next for Charizard's Pokéball, only to discover that he didn't have it. "Someone's stolen my Pokémon! It must be the nefarious work of Team Rocket! I'm going to do the unthinkable and sic Nurse Joy on them!" He then realized that he had no clue how to reach the Pokémon Center.



Jack collapsed in the street and began to cry.



***



"I told you this would happen, Ralph! Now we can't see anything!" Beth had a far worse reason to be worried. The "The Simpsons" machine at the Pokémon Center two blocks from Ralph's apartment could not work without power. Neither would her hair dryer.



“Calm down, Beth. The electricians will fix this mess. Now come on! Let’s get some burgers.” The heavyset Twerpshipping-obsessed fisherman felt very confident that the electrician would come, along with his oddly nicknamed Pokémon, Porycian and Raichian, and fix the problem immediately.



(Unbeknownst to Ralph but beknownst to us, Mr. Fix couldn’t be bothered. He was currently writing a Sonic the Hedgehog fanfic about the relationship between Tails and Knuckles, also featuring an original Hedgehog and a moronic badnik out to bring about Sonamyshipping. Though the similarity to Night of the Horrific Monster-Like Thingy Guy is uncanny, it is purely coincidental. Trust me on this one.)



As Beth and Ralph walked through the street together (It’s a Fishcoolshipping sign! Or maybe it’s not. Maybe they just do this to further the plot.), they passed an amazingly good-looking man who was in the midst of a crying fit. He carried on his back a black backpack, wore a Pokégear on his wrist, and had even been careful enough to wear neutral gang colors.



Yet he was crying like an idiot.



“What’s wrong with you?” asked Ralph.



“My Pokémon were stolen! I have to get them back! Who knows what Team Rocket would do with them?” answered Jack frantically.



“Well, they’d probably make them extremely strong and have them do nothing but battle,” offered Beth. “But that doesn’t explain the hat.”



“I’m an Expos fan,” answered Jack simply.



“Sure you are! And Pokéshipping is a scam!” laughed Ralph. “As if Ash wasn’t destined to fall in love with his carrot-haired companion! Who would think of something so ludicrous?



“You would,” Beth shot back. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t have created a machine to cause global winter in the hopes of causing the pair to find romance with each other. By the way, said machine is the reason I can’t play my favorite arcade game now, Ralph.”



“What game is that?” asked Jack. “Mine’s ‘The Simpsons’.”



“Mine too! But we can’t play it because the power went out after Ralph used up all the electricity in the city to lower the temperatures around the world!”



“I was wondering why it got so chilly out all of the sudden,” thought Jack aloud.



“Yeah, that’s it.”



“No way!” protested Ralph. “The spirit of Eldershipping flew over here and created a more romantic atmosphere for the wonderful couple. I wonder what excuse they’ll use this time?”



“You’re full of it. Where’s the Pokémon center? It’s the last place I was before I lost my Pokémon. I left my Pokémon at the desk, walked out, and – holy cow! That’s where they are! I’m heading back immediately! I got very nervous there!” Jack ran off.



“That was pretty odd, Beth.”



“Yeah, let’s get those burgers.”



***



Jack realized a few moments too late that his sense of direction and night vision weren’t quite as good as he first thought. The pain in his head was terrible. Jack saw a huge building with a Seel on top of it, and then nothing but blackness…

 

[A Concerned Solomon]

Chapter Four: As Slowbro As Molasses!

The first thing Jack noticed upon waking up from his concussion-induced nap was the pain he had inflicted upon himself by charging with his head down in a big city at night. He silently reminded himself that his mother had been right all the time. Charging with one’s head down anywhere is also stupid idea, but Jack’s mother never mentioned such.



The second thing he noticed was the heat. It had to be at least 95 degrees out, he figured. It’d be a great day to break out Charizard, if the Gym wasn’t known for water types, he noted. He chuckled to himself. Jack had never seen the inside of the Cerulean City Gym, but he’d heard plenty. Various sources told him there was even a manicurist on the premises. But without his Pokémon, there was no way he could win the badge. And what would his life be without that badge, anyway? Certainly not one worth living, because everyone was a Pokémon trainer; to not have a badge was to be a poor, pathetic excuse for a human being. At least, that’s what his mother told him.



So, for the time being, Jack was not going to enter the gym. He had no idea what a big mistake he was making. Many readers enjoy detailed descriptions of people, and there were a lot of people in there. There were nough to fill a stadium, in fact. This would serve no real purpose, as it would not move the plot along at all, but people do like descriptions.



On his way to the bike shop, Jack passed a girl who stood 6’ 3” and weighed 120.73 pounds. She had shoulder length black hair and green eyes. Not green like the ocean, mind you. They were more of an emerald green, and they sat about 3 inches apart from each other. “Enough already!” she screamed at the author in annoyed soprano and Dolby stereo.



“Thank you,” she sighed in relief. “Anyway, my Slowbro and I make a great team!”



“I’m sure, but you see, I have to-“



“WATCH MY SLOWBRO!” Jack stood still, paralyzed with fear. What was that thing going to do to him? “Slowbro, use your Hydro Pump!”



Slowbro didn’t respond.



“Alright! Now, try your Confusion!” Jack tried to edge away, but was stopped cold by the demented Slowbro trainer. Slowbro, on the other hand, loafed.



Jack envied the almost brain-dead Pokémon, which was able to ignore this horrid display of Pokémon training. The girl continued, as delusional as ever. “He’s not watching! Give him a Fire Blast!”



Slowbro took a little nap.



“Can I go now?” asked Jack.



“No! Not until I, Lenore Kaptcha, show you how valuable this Water/Psychic type is! No Pokémon can bring down my Slowbro…hold on, I just got an IM on my Pokégear…



Jack looked at the screen name of Lenore’s IM buddy. “TrovitasDancingPedophile? I don’t think you should be talking to that type of person…”



“Who are you, my mother?” retorted Lenore. “Besides, he says he’s in love with me! Isn’t that grand? And take a look at this picture of him…oh, I want to marry this man!” Lenore pressed a few buttons and out came a publicity photo of Trovita Island’s middle-aged Gym Leader. Lenore stared at Rudy’s likeness, enamored. Jack took this opportunity to sneak away. Slowbro slept on.



As Jack carefully dodged around buildings to stay away from Lenore, another, less psychotic young lady was riding a Rapidash around Cerulean Cape. “There are many fast Pokémon, but nothing comes close to the feeling of riding a Rapidash! The wind whipping by, the glowing embers on its tail, the…are you even listening, Ralph?”



“Beth, fishing is a contemplative sport,” replied Ralph. “The true fisherman can never afford to take his eyes off the pond for one moment, for who knows when a Gyarados or Dragonair may bite?” Turning the page of the novel he was reading, Long, Saccharine AAML Fluff by Random Author Dude, he noticed a quarter out of the corner of his eye. “Ooh, shiny!”



As Ralph ran off, his Super Rod began to move towards the water. “Ralph! You’ve got one!” yelled Beth. Seeing that he gave no response, she decided to save the rod from being dragged out to sea. All of her might was put into the effort, but she couldn’t reel in the catch. Whatever it is, it’s heavy! Again she turned the crank, to little avail. Suddenly she was hit with an idea. Hopping into the saddle of her flaming horse, she galloped away from the water, reeling all the while. Now it was clear she was making progress, but she was fast running out of room. With one final yank, she found herself face to face with a rare Lanturn.



Beth had seen precious few of the Water/Electric hybrid, but she knew it was fast and that she could ride it. Which, to Beth, was the most important trait of a Pokémon. Nevertheless, she did realize that she was looking at an uphill struggle to weaken the monster significantly to catch it.

Her thoughts were cut off as the beached whale-creature began fighting its way back to the water. Not willing to pass up this golden chance, she ordered her Rapidash to let loose with a Fire Spin attack. The helpless sea Pokémon became trapped in a whirling inferno whose walls it could not penetrate without being singed. It quickly countered this move with a Rain Dance attack, which both put out the flames and sent all of Cerulean City scouring for their umbrellas. Rapidash was visibly hurting from all of the water, but there was no way she would be giving up on her master. Of course, Rapidash wasn’t exactly the Pokémon answer to Gadd, Silph, or Andonuts, so it really had no clue how to deal with the rain.



Slowbro ignored orders.

 

[A Concerned Solomon]

Chapter Five: Beth Catches A Pokemon!

Jack looked at the building with the giant Pokéball on top of it. He figured it was about two football fields away from where he stood. No hurry, he thought. After all, it was a beautiful July morning, and the sun was shining brilliantly. Also, there was no sign of Lenore, her Slowbro, or Billy anywhere.



What? You don't know who Billy is? That's because you didn't read my best friend's kawaii fanfic "The Generic Pokémon Journey of Randy Guy!" You call yourself a fan! Ha! You have a life, fool! All true fans read every fanfic ever to exist. Don't go searching FF.net for it, either, because he only has it on his own website, which was deleted last year. But you still should have been hunting day and night for it, sacrificing sleep to read all 120 50,000 plus-word chapters the moment he posted them. Because you're supposed to be a real Pokémon fan, and you should know ALL of the signs that Lily is in love with the guy from Earthbound.



Well, now I've finished my rant, you ungrateful fool. I even threw in the word kawaii! Suffice it to say, all you so-called fans, the Billy is a guy whose name is Billy. He wasn't there, but in a moment's time, a tempest was, complete with swirling winds and speedy downpour.



Jack had checked the weather forecast on the way out, but there was no mention of rain. In fact, the weatherman said it would be a sunny day. Jack knew he remembered correctly, because right after this notice came a shot of the anchorwoman trying to come on to the sportscaster. Of course, his head still hurt. But he deserved it for being a moron.



He could certainly feel the cold rain hitting his body. Luckily, his beloved Montreal Expos cap blocked any of it from hitting him in the face.



How Jack actually became an Expos fan is a mystery. His entire extended family either rooted for the Los Angeles Dodgers or didn’t follow baseball. Of course, how anyone becomes an Expos fan is a mystery. But I digress.



As Jack grabbed his jacket from around his waist and started putting it on, the rain stopped and the sunlight grew extremely bright, so much so that his eyes were stunned by the intensity to the light. He also could have sworn he heard the battle cry of a pained Rapidash.



Jack had, in fact, heard the battle cry of a pained Rapidash fighting a beached Lanturn with its trainer riding atop it. But Jack isn’t very good at this kind of thing. He’s one of those phony fans who didn’t read “The Generic Pokémon Journey of Randy Guy.” Quite frankly, he didn’t miss much.



Even so, the rain quickly began anew. Jack began to get terribly furious at that useless weatherman. He saw no problem with the anchorwoman, despite the fact that she was a good 40 years younger than the poor sportscaster.



As Jack cursed his rotten luck (which was far from over), Beth continued to duel the Lanturn that had the rotten luck of biting Jack’s fishing rod. Keeping with the recent trend, Beth was unlucky enough to have only her flame-throwing Rapidash with which to battle the electric whale. To the current point, the battle had become a war of Sunny Day and Rain Dance attacks, which were the main reason for poor Jack’s misery.



Don’t worry. Jack’s life will get worse, I promise. It just won’t happen quite yet.



As everyone who has ever abused an attack in Pokémon knows, eventually the PP of a move will run out. In this particular case, Lanturn’s eighth Rain Dance was the last. Alas, Lanturn should stick to the Tango, but that would also be hard given his lack of legs. Perhaps synchronized swimming would work, but there was already a monopoly on that in town.



Either way, it was clearly do-or-die time for Lanturn. He now started to break out the heavy artillery, starting Rapidash off with a Hydro Pump attack, which missed by mere inches. Rapidash quickly countered by using Sunny Day (much to Jack’s chagrin) and thus not only weakening Lanturn’s water-based attacks but also rendering his electrical power completely useless.



Lanturn’s surprising response was a nasty Flash attack, which temporarily blinded the fire horse. Beth, too, was blinded by the attack, but she knew what Lanturn was going to try to do. So as she recovered, she threw out a Lure Ball. An angry Lanturn was sucked into the ball, which by some magic had a special affinity for catching Pokémon attached to a fishing line.



Don’t ask me how this works. Just dismiss it like you do the idea that these monsters will not rise up against their masters and beat the crap out of them, then come to the houses of fan fiction authors like myself, with pitchforks and torches in hand. It’s just not going to happen. At least, I hope not, but I’m barring the windows just in case.



The ball shook once…and out popped Lanturn. “Lanturn!” he shouted in a mad rage.



“Rapidash dash rapid,” came the response.



“Turn! Lanturn turn!”



“Rapidash!”



“Lanturn, lan turn lanturn. Lanturn turn?”



“Dash rapi! Rapidash Rapidash!”



As this philosophical debate over whether Bounty is really stronger and more absorbent than the leading brand raged on, Beth snatched up a tree branch and set it ablaze off Rapidash’s tail.



“Dash!”



“Turn!”



“Rapid Rapidash.”



Beth realized that the old credo even rang true in Pokémon training. If you want something done right, do it yourself. Disobeying at least 234 Pokémon League by-laws, she beat Lanturn senseless with her impromptu torch, and then spiked a Fast Ball on the defenseless Pokémon’s head.



There was no shaking. Lanturn was in too much shock to respond. The quilted, quicker picker-upper was inferior to the competition? What was the world coming to?

 

[A Concerned Solomon]

Chapter Six: There's No Joy Around Here

Soaked, scorched, and blinded, the Pokémon trainer known as Jack Hammer trudged into Cerulean City Pokémon Center. Now things were about to go right! Take back his Pokémon, deposit Houndoom, retrieve Raichu, pop into that gym with two electric-types, and give the leader a pounding not soon to be forgotten.



Poor, ignorant Jack. Didn’t he know that this wasn’t a normal original-trainer fic? These things don’t work out quite so well as in the anime. Taking for example the PC meant for public use. Waiting in front of our ignorant hero were three people looking for strategy guides to the new “Hey Arnold Moral Combat” fighting game, a freaky GameFAQs regular with a strange tendency to start fanfic topics, and Dick Chaney. (I found out by hacking into government files. The next undisclosed secure location is-what’s that red light thingy? Oh, I was just writing some humorous fanfic. I did not find out that the Vice President was hiding in a video game. Yep, those are my memories.)



Actually sitting at the computer itself was the world famous repairman Mr. Fix, who claimed to be in the process of writing a Sonic the Hedgehog story. Nevertheless, I seriously doubt that nude pictures of Water Pokémon Master Lorelei Prima have anything to do with Sonic, even in a fanfic. With this option almost completely shot, Jack headed for the counter to talk to Nurse Joy. Mysteriously, there was no line at the service counter.



“Hello, ma’am. I’m Jack Hammer. I left my Pokémon here recently? A Charizard, a Houndoom, a Jolteon, a Wigglytuff, a Starmie, and a Scyther. If you’ve healed them, could I have them back please?” The moment he spoke those words, he regretted it.



“What do I look like, a slave laborer? Work, work, work, that’s all I’m good for around here! And what do they pay me?” The definitely masculine voice from the next room over sounded quite annoyed. He was almost finished reading Absurd Ariados-Man [HASHTAG]#135[/HASHTAG], in which Ariados-Man defeats arch-nemesis Sparky Wattson. Indeed, this led to many spin-offs, including the recent film version, The Poison Sting of Ariados-Man and all the various merchandise that came from it. Somebody was definitely making a killing. Corporate Kanto works that way.



“You know, I’m sorry about your shattered self-image. We all care deeply about you! Can I have my Pokémon back now?”



“No,” came the emphatic reply. “I shouldn’t be bothered with other people’s messes.”



“You aren’t Nurse Joy, are you?”



Filled with indignation, Nurse Joe hurled six Pokéballs are Jack. Perhaps caused by fate, perhaps due to intervention by the great Suicune, or perhaps through dumb luck, Jack’s own Pokémon appeared from within the Pokéballs. As Wigglytuff sang out its name and Charizard scorched the ceiling for no apparent reason, a Blissey wearing an I survived Ariados-Man: The Movie: The Ride T-Shirt let loose on Starmie with a Shadow Ball attack. Sadly, poor Blissey was hit by shards from the light bulbs Jolteon was busy shattering in an effort to charge herself up. Jack quickly called Scyther back before it could do anything funny or worth mentioning, but Houndoom was a different story. He dove back into his own Pokéball of his own volition.



As the crowd took shelter in the basement, Wigglytuff began her important mission. Quickly closing all the windows with pictures of Lorelei in suggestive poses (said pictures are considered by some the true reason she was kicked out of the Elite Four, rather than that bogus scandal about her stealing Agatha’s chocolates), Wigglytuff logged on to the official N’Sync website. Immediately, she hammered a few keys and found the lyrics to “Tearin’ Up My Heart”



Wigglytuff is trying to learn Perish Song! But, Wigglytuff already has four moves! Delete an older move to make room for Perish Song?



Jack quickly answered in the negative.



Tough luck, kid! Wigglytuff learned Perish Song anyway!



What the morons sending these telepathic messages to Jack did not know was that Wigglytuff already carried far over four moves and still does. The only reason for using the Internet to learn an attack was saving money on the TM. After all, Jack can’t even afford a Disgusting Bob’s Burger.



Thoroughly content, Wigglytuff walked back to her Moon Ball and retreated into it in a flash of light. Joe’s Blissey ran off in terror. Joe finished his comic and sat down in front of the computer. Immediately his eyes glazed over, his body stiffened, and a message appeared on the screen. “Welcome to the Microsoft Hearts Network. What is your name?” It was obvious Joe would be in this rigor mortis of gaming for quite some time. Jack considered himself something of a hearts player himself, but this was not the time. He had a Raichu to withdraw and a gym badge to win.



“Jolteon jolt!”



“Sorry girl. We hearts players have a certain honor code. I cannot kick him off the computer for personal gain.”



“Char!”



“No. You guys can’t either. Honor code. If I kick him off, I shall never again be able to call myself a hearts player. I could even be punished by death! Now, if he were playing solitaire, things would be different. I could kick him off only if he was not in the midst of a tournament.”



There was only one possible solution.



Jack headed off to the source of all Pokémon data: Bill’s cottage on the Cerulean Cape. This would be a cinch! Certainly a walk in the park ever since the loitering trainers on Nugget Bridge had been kicked off and sent off to Jhoto to bother beginning trainers leaving from Goldenrod City. It seemed like this actually was the nefarious work of Team Rocket, but given the recent decline of the organization without its leader, many were doubtful. The prevailing theory was that Team Aqua, Team Magma, or Jonnie Cochran was actually operating the irritating Pokémon contest from behind closed doors.



The weather was back to normal. Jack was shocked by the sheer normality of the situation. Normally, nothing was normal for him. It had reached the point where the strange was normal, and vice versa. Despite how odd it was, he definitely enjoyed normal weather.



“You may have made my Slowbro look silly, but my Electrode and I make a great team!”



Up until he saw Lenore, that is.

 

[Blackjack Gabbiani]

BWAHAHAHA!!! BWAHAHAHAAAAAA!!!! That's great!

although what you should do is just post a chapter at a time. Get more reviews that way!

 

[Fig]

Yeah, posting chapters one at a time is the best way to get more replies!

That and replying to your readers, and hoping they reply to your replies, and so on and so forth. Blackjack's pretty good at it

Loved this fic btw. The Nsync bit is just too fun.

 

[Blackjack Gabbiani]

Originally posted by Damian Silverblade
That and replying to your readers, and hoping they reply to your replies, and so on and so forth. Blackjack's pretty good at it

See? I'm doing it right now! Sorta.

My problem is that I don't have drop-in reviewers, I have like, four people who read my fics regularly, and that's it. It reminds me of the definition of 'cult classic'

"A movie that's been seen 50 times by as many people"

 

[A Concerned Solomon]

Well, thanks. I just saw that this place doesn't have ANY humor fics, so I put up everything I have so far.

 

[Blackjack Gabbiani]

I posted a humor fic, but it got deleted...I think it's because it was in script format...

 

[Fig]

Errr, actually that was an accident of sort.

See, Kurai had moved it to non-poke, then I had moved it back. Then Kurai thought she should delete the "topic moved" note in non-poke fiction.

So she clicked on that link, which brough her to your topic (and not to the "moved" note). Then she deleted that, thinking it was the note. Except, of course, that it was your main topic.

So yeah, it was all an accident ^^;;

 

[Blackjack Gabbiani]

So I can repost? YAY!! Um...since I just posted a ton of stuff, I'm gonna wait a few days

 

[A Concerned Solomon]

Chapter Seven: The Seventh Chapter!

The massive ball Pokémon let off a couple of sparks in an attempt to intimidate the opposing trainer. Jack wasn’t scared by Electrode, but rather by its trainer. Lenore wouldn’t leave him alone at all! Now, you AngryYoungTrainerShippers may think he was enjoying this madness. In the interest of preserving your illusions I won’t tell you just how annoyed he was. I will mention that he had a death wish against her, however. Take this as you will.

Jack threw out a Pokéball. In a burst of light, Houndoom appeared. He shot off a small, controlled burst of flame just to acknowledge his own pitiful existence, and then adopted a fighting pose. “Ready to go?”

Lenore nodded her head, that smug look never leaving her face. “Okay, Electrode! Houndoom’s a fire type, so give it a Rollout!” Electrode began rolling in place, picking up velocity as it revved itself up. Jack looked on in surprise. Maybe she isn’t terrible at this after all. Electrode spent so much time charging up, however, that Houndoom was able to dig underneath the ground and take cover from the incoming attack.

Electrode finally released, shooting right at the spot where Houndoom had stood mere seconds earlier. Noticing that its opponent had dug a hole, it quickly turned around, perfectly anticipating the dark type’s next move. As Houndoom emerged from beneath the asphalt street, he yelped in surprise at Electrode’s well-aimed attack. Realizing that this was about to hurt, he made a valiant yet fruitless attempt at using Defense Curl.

Suddenly and without warning, Electrode stopped cold and began to glow red. Jack immediately recognized what was about to happen and gave the order to hide in the tunnel his monster had just built. Electrode let loose with an Explosion attack, which somehow left both trainers unharmed.

“I thought I told you NOT to do that in the middle of battle! You stupid spherical shmuck! Look at this! You had that thing all but destroyed, and then blew it!” Lenore ran up to the blackened Electrode and began to tear into it with punches, kicks, and obscenities. Houndoom emerged, raised an eyebrow, and followed Jack to Nugget Bridge. Charizard, Jolteon, and Starmie (who, if you were paying attention, were never called back in the last chapter; did you think I’d leave a PLOTHOLE?) merely pointed and laughed at Lenore.

“Jolteon?”

Sorry, girl. I don’t know how the hell a Starmie can point and laugh either. I’m guessing that if it extends one of its appendages and makes that “ha” sound repeatedly, it could work. Let’s just assume that’s what it did. If you can think of something better, I’m deeply impressed. Like the crater Electrode’s Explosion left in the middle of the road.

“Yeah, look at the big crater you left, you worthless two-colored ball of stupidity!”

“Listen, Lenore,” began Electrode, “I don’t really have much control over that. You see, given the high pressure the ions of my body are under, it is only natural that, on occasion, they will cause an uncontainable blast of power to knock me temporarily unconscious. It’s the laws of physics, and while I can cause myself to explode at will, I cannot stop the chain reaction once it begins.”

“Don’t let it happen again. AND START FIXING THE ROAD!”

“I don’t have opposable thumbs. Heck, I don’t even have hands! Or arms! Or legs for that matter. Besides, where would I find enough gravel?”

“…never mind. I’m going to get you and Slowbro patched up.” With that, the young trainer rolled her Electrode along the road to the Pokémon center.

Poor kid. But one thing’s for sure: I certainly don’t feel like fixing the crater. Jack had no plans to do so, either. And so, to this day, Lenore’s Crater remains a national landmark of Kanto. People and their Pokémon come from all around to see a big hole. Does anybody else see a problem here?

I thought not. All you see is a big hole. Heck, not even that! You see words on a computer screen! The exact words I’m typing! Is that cool or what? Maybe this works two ways! Okay, anybody here see the Weird Al movie UHF? I’ll tell you, that Spatula City thing is priceless!



This doesn’t seem to be working all that well. On with our action-packed tale of action and adventure! Or is it adventure-packed? Or is it neither? I wonder if it’s packed with a Darkwing Duck doll…

“Houndoom, return! Charizard, Starmie, Jolteon, quit the caveman act and get moving!” Houndoom dematerialized and returned to his Pokéball. The other three stifled their laughter and chased after their trainer.

“Wait until we’re out of listening range. I’ve got something to tell you guys.” Charizard and Jolteon gulped. Starmie generally became nervous. As the four walked across the bridge, Jack measured the distance they had traveled until he figured there was no way anybody else could hear him. Then, he began his inspirational yet secret message.

“Was that girl pathetic or what?”

Charizard, Jolteon, Starmie, and Jack all pointed and laughed like idiots. Houndoom sat in his Pokéball, basically being boring. Wigglytuff sent her audition tape to “Kantonian Idol.” Scyther relieved his sore muscles with Alieve™. The author collected money for product placement. And generally speaking, all was right with the world.

 

[Blackjack Gabbiani]

Bweeheehee...*g*

 

[Fig]

Hilarious new part, TTT :-D

Keep it up! We need more Night of the Horrific Monster-Like Thingy Guy"!

 

[A Concerned Solomon]

Now, if I only knew who picked choice number three...

I'm probably going to take endless flack for not putting Misty in this fic. But the idea of this fool having to handle himself around celebrities works just a bit better than having the popular character around.

Besides, she'd probably side with Ralph.

 

[A Concerned Solomon]

Chapter Eight: Never Close Your Eyes, Bad Guys Always Shine

“…And after we finish with this, your Pokémon will look absolutely wonderful!” spoke the Pokémon hairstylist.

“Lanturn!” the subject of this conversation yelled in mad defiance. The light Pokémon did not appreciate being whacked over the head repeatedly with a flaming stick, then forced into a small, cramped ball with no water inside at all.

“Thanks a million, Thomas. You’ll probably work wonders on my little baby here.” Beth walked out of the room, barely avoiding a Thunder Wave attack aimed right for her legs.

“So, Thomas is going to spiff up that Lanturn you just caught?” inquired Fisherman Ralph, Gaki extraordinaire. “It doesn’t look all that bad to me. Besides, it doesn’t even have any hair!”

“This is true, Ralph. But the fact remains that Lanturn hates my guts. So if it gets a haircut, it will be my friend.”

“How the hell do you figure that? I mean, you did beat it senseless without warning.”

“I don’t. But that’s how this stuff works. I guess Pokémon are vain, or something. By the way, I haven’t seen that Dratini you caught at the Safari Zone since you caught it. Has it learned any new attacks?”

“I don’t have a Dratini,” answered Ralph.

“Really? I could have sworn-“

“If I have a Dratini, then Sonic and Tails are in Super Smash Brothers Melee before you KO twenty wire frames.”

“Ralph, Sonic and Tails aren’t in the game at all! Sega’s still a third party when all is said and done, so neither one will ever be in a Smash Brothers game! Get it through your thick skull!”

“You’re just saying that because you don’t have the skills involved in unlocking these wonderful mascots!”

“No, I’m saying it because Shigeru Miyamoto confirmed that they are not in this game! By any means! Now put down “Confessions” and get a grip, Ralph!”

“But AAML Fan rules! I’ll tell you, this line is classic! ‘yes i do she's so pretty but it's more then that’ If that doesn’t convey the emotions of true love, what does?”

“Romeo and Juliet, Casablanca, Night of the Horrific Monster-Like Thingy Guy, and other works with some semblance of spelling, grammar, and plot.” As Ralph readied his most reasonable retort, the same young man from the night before came by, flanked by three of his Pokémon. Two of them were laughing. The other was doing whatever a Starmie does when it thinks something is funny. The Expos fan’s laughter had long subsided, perhaps due to eight years of horrible baseball from his favorite team.

The Charizard sniffed the air. Suddenly, it made a grunting noise, indicating that he had found something. He quickly snatched the fanfic from Ralph’s hands and fired off an Ember attack. Pokéshippers everywhere celebrated as this ugly piece of Gaki garbage received its just fate and burned into ashes. As Ralph lamented the passing of his favorite written work, the dark-haired young woman to his side joined the pointing and laughing.

“It’s not funny, Beth! A fanfiction author spent days on end writing this, only to have it horribly insulted by Barbara L. LeMaster and The Review Guy! Writing is a challenge, Beth. It’s very hard to sit down with the subject matter and carefully mold it into a believable tale.”

Beth held down her laughter for a few moments. “Ralph, the writer probably spent seconds on end writing that piece of crud. The standards of written English are completely ignored, internet shorthand runs rampant, nobody’s in character and there isn’t even a storyline! It’s inexcusable! My Rapidash could write better than that, and she can’t even hold a pencil! Pikachu’s lines are pointlessly translated and make no real sense! If you want a good AAMRN, read some Togepretty, Ilex the Elder, or Geodude. But AAML fan’s work would get an F in preschool!”

At this moment, I would like to acknowledge that Beth’s Rapidash has written a nifty little story about a Rapidash who expresses her feelings through poetry. She can’t write about any other species, however. She isn’t all that good at inventing characters.

Like that ever stopped me.

Ralph let Beth’s points sink in. This time, she was probably right. But then, if Ash and Misty weren’t to fall in love like in “Confessions,” how would it happen? Somewhat depressed, he let out his Tentacruel and Surfed into town for some ice cream. After all, nothing cheered him up like some delicious Rocky Road. Once on the other side, Ralph recalled the jellyfish Pokémon and started walking towards Disgusting Bob’s. Along the way, he heard laughter. The laughter of the heavens at my plight, he reasoned. Upon a closer look it was revealed that this was the laughter of a Slowbro which had managed to snatch away his trainer’s Pokegear and was listening to Places and People.

“So, like, that Bug Catcher outside Jhoto National Park – what’s his name again? I’ll call him Arnie for now. He totally decides, out of nowhere, that he’s going to turn his limited charms on gorgeous, pink haired me! So here I am, getting ready to interview Whitney on her training technique, completely lost on my way to the studio, and there’s a freaky guy following my every move!”

“So, what’d you do next?”

“Well, since you ask so nicely, I’ll tell you! But first, the weather report…” DJ Lily and her new radio sidekick were splitting the sides of Kanto’s commuters like they did every day. It’s really a pretty good show, and you can feel the romantic tension crackling in that studio from wherever you are.

They broadcast from the radio tower in Lavender.

There’s a giant antenna on top of the tower. During lightning storms, it gathers in great amounts of electricity. In fact, that’s what keeps the station in the black, considering the fact that they don’t advertise.

Correction: absurd amounts of electricity are gathered in that simple piece of metal.

“Great Scott!”

 

[Fig]

Hey! Stop making fun of the Expos!

It's not nice to make fun of them around a moderator from the Montréal suburbs ;-)

That said, great addition (though of course, waiting for more of this chapter)

 

[A Concerned Solomon]

Well, one of the big moments in the story will have Jack "uncork a throw that would have made Vladmir Guerrero proud."

I watch about eight Expos games a year (being a Mets fan and all), and the lack of a crowd borders on frightening. I don't know how Guerrero and Vidro and even Orlando Cabrera can stand to play in front of such a paltry audience night in and night out.

Despite anything Ichiro and A-Rod fans say, I strongly believe that Vladmir is the best ballplayer in the world today. The ultimate five-tool monster!