Baroness Peron
Pessimistic Idealist
- Joined
- Nov 17, 2007
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This is a project I was inspired to start when I was pondering the differences between original anime and English dub. What if the Japanese anime were also a highly-edited version of an original? Thus the "novel" follows the basic plot elements of each episode, but with some altered details and added interpretation. A few lines are taken directly from the English dub. And I'll admit that it's somewhat eccentric. Rated PG-13 for anticipated inappropriate humor and innuendo.
Oh, the plight of the novelist! It is a sad day when television executives decide that someone’s written masterpiece would be better adapted to film. It is an even sadder day when secret television agents are deployed to wipe knowledge of the original novel from the face of the planet. The essence of the story is lost forever.
Such has been the case with Pokemon. For ten years we have assumed that the Pokemon anime was based off of a Nintendo video game. Nothing could be farther from the truth. But the truth has been brought to me through a little coincidence and a day spent rooting unsupervised through my sick grandmother’s attic. Fate has bestowed upon me the original manuscripts of the great lost Pokemon novel. And now it is my solemn duty to share that which was lost with the world.
And so I bring you Pokemon: the Lost Novel!
***
Chapter One: I Choose You!
Another Pokemon dream. Ash lay in bed watching sunlight stream in through his window, and wondered. It was his third Pokemon dream this week. Did this have something to do with that “puberty” thing that everyone was talking about?
It was hard to listen to all the conversations and not be able to join in. “I made out with Suzie behind Professor Oak’s lab the other day!” Gary would say. Or maybe Jeff would exclaim, “I think Delia’s the hottest mom in town!” leaving Ash to wonder who this “Delia” was, and whether Jeff was speaking literally or figuratively. But when Ash tried to join the conversation by telling the guys about his Pokemon dreams, he just got a lot of strange looks and usually had to spend the rest of noon recess alone. He didn’t understand.
“Choose it or lose it,” Ash muttered to himself.
Suddenly the streaming sunlight registered. What time was it? Today was the day he was supposed to go to Professor Oak and retrieve his first Pokemon! For today he was ten years old, and a man.
He leapt out of bed, jumped out the window, and dashed for Professor Oak’s lab. There was no need to put on his tennis shoes, for he always slept with them on. It was a precaution. There was no telling when the Gengar would finally burst out of his closet and try to devour his soul—so he needed to be prepared to make a quick get-away.
In a town with a population of twenty-three, it doesn’t take long to reach the resident professor’s secret laboratory. Yet as Ash approached, he could see that he had been beaten. It was Gary Oak, a tall boy who had begun puberty at age seven, and had accumulated seventeen girlfriends since that time—all of whom he was still dating.
Ash did not recognize Gary as a threat. Ash had the impression that he and Gary were best friends. But Gary was not of the same mind. Eager to prove his superiority to Ash and disappear into Viridian forest with his seventeen girlfriends, he pulled out his standard-issue Pokemon tranquilizer gun and fired a dart into Ash’s neck. Then he sped away in the red eighteen-seater convertible that Professor Oak had given him for his birthday.
But what dart can calm the blood of a tiger? Ash pulled the feathered dart from his neck and examined it curiously, wondering if it could possibly be a Pokemon. When it said nothing, he presumed it dead and tossed it over his shoulder for the crows to feed upon. He had more important business to attend.
“Professor Oak!” he declared, marching confidently into Oak’s secret lab. “Pokemon me!”
Professor Oak blinked at him in curiosity. “Pokemon you?”
“Uh, yes,” Ash replied, shaken by Professor Oak’s confusion. “I’m here to get my starter Pokemon.”
“Oh, of course!” Oak replied, face lighting up. “But wouldn’t you rather have some tea?”
Ash didn’t know what to make of this strange request. He answered in the manliest way he could muster. “Uhm…no thanks, Professor.”
“Well, in that case,” Oak began. He grinned inwardly. Sure, he had some starter Pokemon left, but this would be the perfect opportunity to get rid of that delinquent Pikachu that kept stealing his crumpets and corrupting his data files. The Pikachu that just happened to be gnawing on his pant-leg as he spoke. He grabbed it and shoved it into Ash’s arms.
“Cha!” the Pikachu cried in alarm.
“Uh, what’s this?” Ash asked. This was a Pokemon that had never appeared in his dreams. How could he be sure it was even a Pokemon?
“Why, it’s the finest starter Pokemon available!” Oak exclaimed. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go research a…uh…baby Nidoran. Very important. Just pick up that New Trainer’s Complementary Gift Basket on the way out and you can be on your way.” And Professor Oak fled from the room, afraid lest Pikachu should decide to unleash his attack, Thor’s Might.
“Um, okay,” Ash said to himself. Pikachu had climbed onto his head and was attempting to eat Ash’s hat. Ash was touched by the action, for in his heart it symbolized unity.
In Pikachu’s heart it symbolized hunger. Professor Oak had locked away all the crumpets, and Pikachu had gone without food for days. The thought angered Pikachu, and he released one of his lesser attacks, Thor’s Sprained Ankle.
Ash felt a sudden pain in his left ankle. “Ow!” he exclaimed. He must have twisted it somehow while he was standing in Oak’s secret lab with a Pikachu on his head. It was obviously a dangerous place to be. He went back outside, taking a gift basket as he left.
Awaiting him was a massive congratulatory crowd, waving banners, singing, and weeping. They could recognize the face of glory—the face that was Ash Ketchum! His mother stepped forward, offering him a small backpack. “I packed everything that a ten-year-old boy needs to survive unsupervised in the wilderness,” she said brightly.
“What’s in it?” Ash asked.
“Underwear!” his mother exclaimed.
“Thanks, mom,” he replied nobly, accepting the backpack. “Uh, I guess I’ll be going!” And he began to walk away, his gait stately, the slightest hint of a limp only adding to his majesty.
“I love you, Ash! Take care of yourself!” his mother called after him.
But what great man has ever needed a mother’s love? He gave her a smile and a wave, but nothing more.
***
A short distance outside of town, Ash sat down to look through his gift basket. It contained a Pokedex, six Pokeballs, a Pokemon tranquilizer gun and darts, and a pleasant assortment of pears and cheeses.
“Cha!” Pikachu exclaimed, forgetting Ash’s hat. He plopped down into the middle of the gift basket and began nibbling on a pear.
“Pikachu, we don’t have time for that right now,” Ash complained. Pikachu fixed him with a beady and ferocious eye. And then he unleashed Thor’s Splendor, thoroughly electrocuting Ash. Consequently, the pear he held was now baked, but that was the way he liked his pears.
But now was not the time to worry about such things. For now that Ash was out of town, he could begin concentrating on his real goal: training to be an elite Team Rocket agent. Unfortunately, he didn’t know how to start.
“Hey, Pikachu,” Ash said cautiously, hoping that Pikachu wouldn’t shock him again. Pikachu looked at him suspiciously, still nibbling his pear. “How do I train to be a Team Rocket agent?”
“Pi?” said Pikachu, holding up the dart gun.
Ash just laughed at Pikachu’s ignorance. “Come on, Pikachu, a Team Rocket agent can’t throw feathers at people!”
“Ka,” Pikachu retorted. He turned his back to Ash.
But then Ash was hit by a miraculous epiphany. “First…I need to tie you up!” he exclaimed. He dug a rope out of his backpack full of underwear and wrapped it around Pikachu with the dexterity of a born criminal. “Now, if I can just pull you along like this,” Ash grunted, picking up his belongings and proceeding to drag Pikachu behind him.
“Cha,” Pikachu moaned in disappointment, watching as his half-eaten pear grew smaller and smaller behind them. But Pikachu was ever the resourceful Pokemon. He began to gnaw upon the rope that bound him, hoping to glean some nourishment from the nylon.
Meanwhile, Ash had stumbled upon the second stage in his plan to become an elite Team Rocket agent. In the grass before him was a flock of Pidgey. In a pile at his feet was a neat mound of rocks. And, as everyone knows, the most effective way to hone one’s evil potential is to throw rocks at birds.
And Ash did throw. And Pikachu did gnaw. And it was not long before Pikachu was free and standing by his trainer’s side, hucking rocks at birds with his Thor’s Huck attack. Soon a veritable mountain of Pidgey lay before them, most dazed, but some dying and keening the cries of the mortally wounded, an auditory elixir to Ash’s soul. In that moment Ash and Pikachu exchanged a look and a smile, and each knew that he had been paired with a soul-mate. Ash made a mental addition to his puberty list.
In the joy of their triumph, Ash and Pikachu dove headlong into a nearby lake, limpid as the dawn. But too late! They both remembered that they were unable to swim. They struggled and gasped to the best of their ability, but they sank inexorably toward the lake’s bottom, and the light grew black.
***
Misty and her fishing pole, Alice, were spending a relaxing day at the lake when they made the catch of a lifetime. Misty was surprised to get a bite, for she was using five-year-old Twinkies as bait. They really do keep forever! Misty thought in astonishment, tugging with all her might at Alice. Then, suddenly, the largest fish Misty had ever seen came flying up out of the water and onto the bank.
But it wasn’t a fish at all! “A man!” Misty exclaimed, falling into a half-swoon. This was what she had always dreamed of—a beautiful man rising out of the water, beckoning her with arms open wide…she accepting his invitation, and succumbing to the lake’s sweet embrace…
But then the man gave a sputtering cough, and sat up to look at her, blinking with vacant eyes. This was not a man at all. This was just some kid. And he had taken her Twinkie!
Misty’s mounting anger was interrupted by a second sputtering cough. This cough was tiny, and unimaginably adorable. Misty was suddenly aware of the coughing yellow rat-thing that was twitching on the ground next to the kid. It was the cutest coughing yellow rat-thing Misty had ever seen. Acting on instinct, she dove for the creature.
“Aw, isn’t it so cute!” Misty cried, crushing the rat-thing to her chest.
By this time Ash had fully revived, for he was a true demi-god of the olden days. And he could not see that there was anything cute about Pikachu, who was a mighty emissary of Thor himself. He boomed a challenge at the unruly redhead. “Hey, what do you think you’re doing? Leave my Pikachu alone!”
But Pikachu felt differently. He had long desired the love of a woman, and although his fantasies usually involved female Pikachu or a packet of Heinz fancy ketchup, Misty’s feminine charms were entirely acceptable. Thus he was disappointed when Misty returned him to Ash, saying, “Oh, sorry! Your Pikachu is just too cute! Are you guys all right?”
But now that Pikachu’s dignity had been restored, Ash was no longer interested in speaking to Misty. “Yeah, we’re fine. Thanks anyway.” His eye strayed to the shiny orange bicycle that was parked up the bank. Ah, yes. It was time for Team Rocket Agent Training phase 3. “Except that my Pikachu is really sick!” he cried suddenly. “I need to use your bike to get to a Pokemon center!”
“Chu?” Pikachu asked curiously. Ash just scooped him up and dashed for the bike.
“But hey! That’s my bike!” Misty shouted.
“I’ll give it back someday!” Ash lied. He snickered to himself and rode merrily away.
As they rode, a mighty squawking cloud rose behind them. The Bird Mafia had received word of Ash’s previous crimes against Birdkind, and had unleashed their secret assassination squad: a giant hulking flock of Spearow.
But what flock of birds can stand against a demigod and his heavenly apprentice? Pikachu called upon the fury of Thor, and a mighty thunderstorm arose. A bolt of lightning struck and charred Misty’s bicycle for a wicked-awesome special effect. Tumbling from the bicycle and rising with uncanny grace, Ash stood against the onslaught of Spearow with arms wide, challenging the birds and Fate herself.
“I am the great Ash Ketchum!” he declared. “I will be the best thief of all time! And I won’t let you or anyone else stop me!”
Then Pikachu unleashed Thor’s Might, shocking the living Dickens out of the flock of Spearow. And Thor did grin, and his furious storm was lifted from the sky. A rainbow took its place. Ash and Pikachu marched on under its gentle gaze, until over the horizon they observed a quiet, hapless city: the site of their next evil exploit.
What lies in store for Ash Ketchum and his familiar, Pikachu? Can they truly stand against fate? What has become of Misty? All will be revealed in the next exciting chapter of Pokemon: the Lost Novel.
Oh, the plight of the novelist! It is a sad day when television executives decide that someone’s written masterpiece would be better adapted to film. It is an even sadder day when secret television agents are deployed to wipe knowledge of the original novel from the face of the planet. The essence of the story is lost forever.
Such has been the case with Pokemon. For ten years we have assumed that the Pokemon anime was based off of a Nintendo video game. Nothing could be farther from the truth. But the truth has been brought to me through a little coincidence and a day spent rooting unsupervised through my sick grandmother’s attic. Fate has bestowed upon me the original manuscripts of the great lost Pokemon novel. And now it is my solemn duty to share that which was lost with the world.
And so I bring you Pokemon: the Lost Novel!
***
Chapter One: I Choose You!
Another Pokemon dream. Ash lay in bed watching sunlight stream in through his window, and wondered. It was his third Pokemon dream this week. Did this have something to do with that “puberty” thing that everyone was talking about?
It was hard to listen to all the conversations and not be able to join in. “I made out with Suzie behind Professor Oak’s lab the other day!” Gary would say. Or maybe Jeff would exclaim, “I think Delia’s the hottest mom in town!” leaving Ash to wonder who this “Delia” was, and whether Jeff was speaking literally or figuratively. But when Ash tried to join the conversation by telling the guys about his Pokemon dreams, he just got a lot of strange looks and usually had to spend the rest of noon recess alone. He didn’t understand.
“Choose it or lose it,” Ash muttered to himself.
Suddenly the streaming sunlight registered. What time was it? Today was the day he was supposed to go to Professor Oak and retrieve his first Pokemon! For today he was ten years old, and a man.
He leapt out of bed, jumped out the window, and dashed for Professor Oak’s lab. There was no need to put on his tennis shoes, for he always slept with them on. It was a precaution. There was no telling when the Gengar would finally burst out of his closet and try to devour his soul—so he needed to be prepared to make a quick get-away.
In a town with a population of twenty-three, it doesn’t take long to reach the resident professor’s secret laboratory. Yet as Ash approached, he could see that he had been beaten. It was Gary Oak, a tall boy who had begun puberty at age seven, and had accumulated seventeen girlfriends since that time—all of whom he was still dating.
Ash did not recognize Gary as a threat. Ash had the impression that he and Gary were best friends. But Gary was not of the same mind. Eager to prove his superiority to Ash and disappear into Viridian forest with his seventeen girlfriends, he pulled out his standard-issue Pokemon tranquilizer gun and fired a dart into Ash’s neck. Then he sped away in the red eighteen-seater convertible that Professor Oak had given him for his birthday.
But what dart can calm the blood of a tiger? Ash pulled the feathered dart from his neck and examined it curiously, wondering if it could possibly be a Pokemon. When it said nothing, he presumed it dead and tossed it over his shoulder for the crows to feed upon. He had more important business to attend.
“Professor Oak!” he declared, marching confidently into Oak’s secret lab. “Pokemon me!”
Professor Oak blinked at him in curiosity. “Pokemon you?”
“Uh, yes,” Ash replied, shaken by Professor Oak’s confusion. “I’m here to get my starter Pokemon.”
“Oh, of course!” Oak replied, face lighting up. “But wouldn’t you rather have some tea?”
Ash didn’t know what to make of this strange request. He answered in the manliest way he could muster. “Uhm…no thanks, Professor.”
“Well, in that case,” Oak began. He grinned inwardly. Sure, he had some starter Pokemon left, but this would be the perfect opportunity to get rid of that delinquent Pikachu that kept stealing his crumpets and corrupting his data files. The Pikachu that just happened to be gnawing on his pant-leg as he spoke. He grabbed it and shoved it into Ash’s arms.
“Cha!” the Pikachu cried in alarm.
“Uh, what’s this?” Ash asked. This was a Pokemon that had never appeared in his dreams. How could he be sure it was even a Pokemon?
“Why, it’s the finest starter Pokemon available!” Oak exclaimed. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go research a…uh…baby Nidoran. Very important. Just pick up that New Trainer’s Complementary Gift Basket on the way out and you can be on your way.” And Professor Oak fled from the room, afraid lest Pikachu should decide to unleash his attack, Thor’s Might.
“Um, okay,” Ash said to himself. Pikachu had climbed onto his head and was attempting to eat Ash’s hat. Ash was touched by the action, for in his heart it symbolized unity.
In Pikachu’s heart it symbolized hunger. Professor Oak had locked away all the crumpets, and Pikachu had gone without food for days. The thought angered Pikachu, and he released one of his lesser attacks, Thor’s Sprained Ankle.
Ash felt a sudden pain in his left ankle. “Ow!” he exclaimed. He must have twisted it somehow while he was standing in Oak’s secret lab with a Pikachu on his head. It was obviously a dangerous place to be. He went back outside, taking a gift basket as he left.
Awaiting him was a massive congratulatory crowd, waving banners, singing, and weeping. They could recognize the face of glory—the face that was Ash Ketchum! His mother stepped forward, offering him a small backpack. “I packed everything that a ten-year-old boy needs to survive unsupervised in the wilderness,” she said brightly.
“What’s in it?” Ash asked.
“Underwear!” his mother exclaimed.
“Thanks, mom,” he replied nobly, accepting the backpack. “Uh, I guess I’ll be going!” And he began to walk away, his gait stately, the slightest hint of a limp only adding to his majesty.
“I love you, Ash! Take care of yourself!” his mother called after him.
But what great man has ever needed a mother’s love? He gave her a smile and a wave, but nothing more.
***
A short distance outside of town, Ash sat down to look through his gift basket. It contained a Pokedex, six Pokeballs, a Pokemon tranquilizer gun and darts, and a pleasant assortment of pears and cheeses.
“Cha!” Pikachu exclaimed, forgetting Ash’s hat. He plopped down into the middle of the gift basket and began nibbling on a pear.
“Pikachu, we don’t have time for that right now,” Ash complained. Pikachu fixed him with a beady and ferocious eye. And then he unleashed Thor’s Splendor, thoroughly electrocuting Ash. Consequently, the pear he held was now baked, but that was the way he liked his pears.
But now was not the time to worry about such things. For now that Ash was out of town, he could begin concentrating on his real goal: training to be an elite Team Rocket agent. Unfortunately, he didn’t know how to start.
“Hey, Pikachu,” Ash said cautiously, hoping that Pikachu wouldn’t shock him again. Pikachu looked at him suspiciously, still nibbling his pear. “How do I train to be a Team Rocket agent?”
“Pi?” said Pikachu, holding up the dart gun.
Ash just laughed at Pikachu’s ignorance. “Come on, Pikachu, a Team Rocket agent can’t throw feathers at people!”
“Ka,” Pikachu retorted. He turned his back to Ash.
But then Ash was hit by a miraculous epiphany. “First…I need to tie you up!” he exclaimed. He dug a rope out of his backpack full of underwear and wrapped it around Pikachu with the dexterity of a born criminal. “Now, if I can just pull you along like this,” Ash grunted, picking up his belongings and proceeding to drag Pikachu behind him.
“Cha,” Pikachu moaned in disappointment, watching as his half-eaten pear grew smaller and smaller behind them. But Pikachu was ever the resourceful Pokemon. He began to gnaw upon the rope that bound him, hoping to glean some nourishment from the nylon.
Meanwhile, Ash had stumbled upon the second stage in his plan to become an elite Team Rocket agent. In the grass before him was a flock of Pidgey. In a pile at his feet was a neat mound of rocks. And, as everyone knows, the most effective way to hone one’s evil potential is to throw rocks at birds.
And Ash did throw. And Pikachu did gnaw. And it was not long before Pikachu was free and standing by his trainer’s side, hucking rocks at birds with his Thor’s Huck attack. Soon a veritable mountain of Pidgey lay before them, most dazed, but some dying and keening the cries of the mortally wounded, an auditory elixir to Ash’s soul. In that moment Ash and Pikachu exchanged a look and a smile, and each knew that he had been paired with a soul-mate. Ash made a mental addition to his puberty list.
In the joy of their triumph, Ash and Pikachu dove headlong into a nearby lake, limpid as the dawn. But too late! They both remembered that they were unable to swim. They struggled and gasped to the best of their ability, but they sank inexorably toward the lake’s bottom, and the light grew black.
***
Misty and her fishing pole, Alice, were spending a relaxing day at the lake when they made the catch of a lifetime. Misty was surprised to get a bite, for she was using five-year-old Twinkies as bait. They really do keep forever! Misty thought in astonishment, tugging with all her might at Alice. Then, suddenly, the largest fish Misty had ever seen came flying up out of the water and onto the bank.
But it wasn’t a fish at all! “A man!” Misty exclaimed, falling into a half-swoon. This was what she had always dreamed of—a beautiful man rising out of the water, beckoning her with arms open wide…she accepting his invitation, and succumbing to the lake’s sweet embrace…
But then the man gave a sputtering cough, and sat up to look at her, blinking with vacant eyes. This was not a man at all. This was just some kid. And he had taken her Twinkie!
Misty’s mounting anger was interrupted by a second sputtering cough. This cough was tiny, and unimaginably adorable. Misty was suddenly aware of the coughing yellow rat-thing that was twitching on the ground next to the kid. It was the cutest coughing yellow rat-thing Misty had ever seen. Acting on instinct, she dove for the creature.
“Aw, isn’t it so cute!” Misty cried, crushing the rat-thing to her chest.
By this time Ash had fully revived, for he was a true demi-god of the olden days. And he could not see that there was anything cute about Pikachu, who was a mighty emissary of Thor himself. He boomed a challenge at the unruly redhead. “Hey, what do you think you’re doing? Leave my Pikachu alone!”
But Pikachu felt differently. He had long desired the love of a woman, and although his fantasies usually involved female Pikachu or a packet of Heinz fancy ketchup, Misty’s feminine charms were entirely acceptable. Thus he was disappointed when Misty returned him to Ash, saying, “Oh, sorry! Your Pikachu is just too cute! Are you guys all right?”
But now that Pikachu’s dignity had been restored, Ash was no longer interested in speaking to Misty. “Yeah, we’re fine. Thanks anyway.” His eye strayed to the shiny orange bicycle that was parked up the bank. Ah, yes. It was time for Team Rocket Agent Training phase 3. “Except that my Pikachu is really sick!” he cried suddenly. “I need to use your bike to get to a Pokemon center!”
“Chu?” Pikachu asked curiously. Ash just scooped him up and dashed for the bike.
“But hey! That’s my bike!” Misty shouted.
“I’ll give it back someday!” Ash lied. He snickered to himself and rode merrily away.
As they rode, a mighty squawking cloud rose behind them. The Bird Mafia had received word of Ash’s previous crimes against Birdkind, and had unleashed their secret assassination squad: a giant hulking flock of Spearow.
But what flock of birds can stand against a demigod and his heavenly apprentice? Pikachu called upon the fury of Thor, and a mighty thunderstorm arose. A bolt of lightning struck and charred Misty’s bicycle for a wicked-awesome special effect. Tumbling from the bicycle and rising with uncanny grace, Ash stood against the onslaught of Spearow with arms wide, challenging the birds and Fate herself.
“I am the great Ash Ketchum!” he declared. “I will be the best thief of all time! And I won’t let you or anyone else stop me!”
Then Pikachu unleashed Thor’s Might, shocking the living Dickens out of the flock of Spearow. And Thor did grin, and his furious storm was lifted from the sky. A rainbow took its place. Ash and Pikachu marched on under its gentle gaze, until over the horizon they observed a quiet, hapless city: the site of their next evil exploit.
What lies in store for Ash Ketchum and his familiar, Pikachu? Can they truly stand against fate? What has become of Misty? All will be revealed in the next exciting chapter of Pokemon: the Lost Novel.
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