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(rated E10+ for fantasy stage violence and frightening images)
With Pokemon Cafe Mix coming out, I've decided to reboot my collection of Pokemonized folk tales into that world--this time, Ash, Misty, and Serena join Brock in weaving tales in the cafe--and there might be a few offstage plots as well. The tales themselves will be a mix of old favorites, older tales updated to account for Sword/Shield, and some all new stories.
So without any further ado, here is...
Tale #1: The Minstrel and the Shoemaker
(real tale: The Ballad Maker and the Boot-Maker)
(what Brock and Serena perform)
Applause rang through the Gentle Spring Cafe's main dining room as Ash, Misty, Brock, and Serena finished a song. "Thank you..." Brock smiled as he rechecked his tuning.
Once sure his guitar was still in tune, he started a story for the assembled Pokemon and people. "There was once a minstrel who traveled across the land, singing songs and weaving tales that kept people coming back again and again."
Serena discretely switched her mandolin for her own fiddle as Brock went on "Her music was unlike anything the people had heard before. This was because our heroine hailed from what is today Kalos, so people turned out in droves to hear the sweet ballads and swinging beats of exotic dance tunes."
With that, Brock and Serena played the gypsy jazz standard 'Minor Swing' for effect. The swinging melody spurred many Pokemon to hurry out to the open area Leah had designated as a dance floor and dance along to the guitar and fiddle trading solos along with a prerecorded rhythm guitar and bass track. From the tiniest Pichus to the biggest Dragon Pokemon, those that weren't dancing snapped or clapped along to the swinging tune.
Misty picked up the tale when the song ended. "Long after the minstrel went on her way, people tried to remember the words to the songs and the notes to the tunes. A great many tried learning to play the tunes themselves for this reason."
"Now, in one town there lived a shoemaker." Ash picked up the tale. "Since making and repairing shoes was often a boring task, he often passed the time by singing. Since he sang a good deal, he thought he could sing very well--if he said so himself. He was beyond delighted with the minstrel's songs, memorized many of them, and never tired of singing them--in his own way. But since he didn't know a word of Kalosian, much less how to carry a tune, many said a Meowth yowling on a fence sounded better."
Laughter filled the cafe as the audience imagined how terrible the shoemaker must have sounded. "So, when our heroine came back that way, the people would send her away with comments we're not going to repeat here." Ash went on. "Some of the townsfolk even claimed that the shoemaker sang better than any Kalosian."
Angry whispers filled the air, but Serena was quick to calm the crowd. "Our heroine was devoted to her art, and she did not merely sing for material glory--all the name calling and nasty comments rolled off of her like water off a Ducklett's back. So instead of being mad, she replied that she was pleased to hear that the people in that town had learned the Kalosian language and Kalosian songs. Then she asked to hear the shoemaker sing for herself."
"To say she was mortified by the shoemaker mangling her melodies is an understatement!" Brock interjected, to some laughter at the alliteration.
"Our heroine thought long and hard about what to do." Serena went on. "Her first idea was to make a terrible pair of shoes, or mess up the shoemaker's work, but that would make the townsfolk even madder. So she told the townsfolk to assemble in the town square the next morning for a singing contest."
"The next morning, the whole town turned out for the promised singing contest." Misty picked up the tale. "It was agreed that the shoemaker would go first. And sing the shoemaker did, with plenty of wrong notes and butchered Kalosian to boot."
"Then the minstrel stood up and sang so beautifully, that the people wondered why they thought the shoemaker was any good in the first place." Serena concluded. "So the minstrel was welcomed back with open arms, and she in turn forgave the people. From that day on, any time the minstrel came was treated like a holiday!"
"As for the shoemaker, he didn't sing again for a long time!" Brock grinned over a playful flourish, to knowing laughter and applause...
With Pokemon Cafe Mix coming out, I've decided to reboot my collection of Pokemonized folk tales into that world--this time, Ash, Misty, and Serena join Brock in weaving tales in the cafe--and there might be a few offstage plots as well. The tales themselves will be a mix of old favorites, older tales updated to account for Sword/Shield, and some all new stories.
So without any further ado, here is...
Tale #1: The Minstrel and the Shoemaker
(real tale: The Ballad Maker and the Boot-Maker)
(what Brock and Serena perform)
Applause rang through the Gentle Spring Cafe's main dining room as Ash, Misty, Brock, and Serena finished a song. "Thank you..." Brock smiled as he rechecked his tuning.
Once sure his guitar was still in tune, he started a story for the assembled Pokemon and people. "There was once a minstrel who traveled across the land, singing songs and weaving tales that kept people coming back again and again."
Serena discretely switched her mandolin for her own fiddle as Brock went on "Her music was unlike anything the people had heard before. This was because our heroine hailed from what is today Kalos, so people turned out in droves to hear the sweet ballads and swinging beats of exotic dance tunes."
With that, Brock and Serena played the gypsy jazz standard 'Minor Swing' for effect. The swinging melody spurred many Pokemon to hurry out to the open area Leah had designated as a dance floor and dance along to the guitar and fiddle trading solos along with a prerecorded rhythm guitar and bass track. From the tiniest Pichus to the biggest Dragon Pokemon, those that weren't dancing snapped or clapped along to the swinging tune.
Misty picked up the tale when the song ended. "Long after the minstrel went on her way, people tried to remember the words to the songs and the notes to the tunes. A great many tried learning to play the tunes themselves for this reason."
"Now, in one town there lived a shoemaker." Ash picked up the tale. "Since making and repairing shoes was often a boring task, he often passed the time by singing. Since he sang a good deal, he thought he could sing very well--if he said so himself. He was beyond delighted with the minstrel's songs, memorized many of them, and never tired of singing them--in his own way. But since he didn't know a word of Kalosian, much less how to carry a tune, many said a Meowth yowling on a fence sounded better."
Laughter filled the cafe as the audience imagined how terrible the shoemaker must have sounded. "So, when our heroine came back that way, the people would send her away with comments we're not going to repeat here." Ash went on. "Some of the townsfolk even claimed that the shoemaker sang better than any Kalosian."
Angry whispers filled the air, but Serena was quick to calm the crowd. "Our heroine was devoted to her art, and she did not merely sing for material glory--all the name calling and nasty comments rolled off of her like water off a Ducklett's back. So instead of being mad, she replied that she was pleased to hear that the people in that town had learned the Kalosian language and Kalosian songs. Then she asked to hear the shoemaker sing for herself."
"To say she was mortified by the shoemaker mangling her melodies is an understatement!" Brock interjected, to some laughter at the alliteration.
"Our heroine thought long and hard about what to do." Serena went on. "Her first idea was to make a terrible pair of shoes, or mess up the shoemaker's work, but that would make the townsfolk even madder. So she told the townsfolk to assemble in the town square the next morning for a singing contest."
"The next morning, the whole town turned out for the promised singing contest." Misty picked up the tale. "It was agreed that the shoemaker would go first. And sing the shoemaker did, with plenty of wrong notes and butchered Kalosian to boot."
"Then the minstrel stood up and sang so beautifully, that the people wondered why they thought the shoemaker was any good in the first place." Serena concluded. "So the minstrel was welcomed back with open arms, and she in turn forgave the people. From that day on, any time the minstrel came was treated like a holiday!"
"As for the shoemaker, he didn't sing again for a long time!" Brock grinned over a playful flourish, to knowing laughter and applause...
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