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TEEN: - Ongoing The Official Fanfiction University of Kanto

TRF-chan

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Yup, another story ^^. You can actually be in this one, if you so desire. PM me and I can give you the form to fill out.

Disclaimer: I don’t own Pokemon, and I don’t own the idea for fanfiction universities. That honor goes to the wonderful Miss Cam!
******************************************************

A dark-haired girl of around fourteen years of age dashed down the carpeted steps of her house, turned a corner and flung herself onto a chair directly in front of a computer, “Yes! Summer vacation! Celebrate good times, come on!” she sang to herself, and then opened up a Word document.

“Finally I can write my kawaii JAJL and AAML story!” she cackled gleefully, rubbing her hands together in anticipation.

‘Ash nad Misti where waking donw a rode 1 day wen some thing teribel happened.Mysti wuz ataked bi butch and casedee frum TR!!!!!!!!!!!!11111111111
“Were giong 2 kil u!!!!!!!!1111” sed casiday becuz shes evilllllll!!!!!!!!!!11 dont u jist HATE her?!?! LOL anyway…
“U wont kill er!!!!!11 Ill stop u!!!!111” sed Asg herically!!!!! He is tUh KoOl!!!!!!!111 I LUV HIM!!!!!!111 Anywho…’


The girl paused, unsure of what should come next, “I need inspiration,” she muttered to herself, “Perhaps a break…”

Ten Pepsis, a barrel of Pixie Sticks, and exactly two and a half giant Kit-Kats later, she returned to the computer, laughing manically.

‘LOLLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!11111111111 I jst took a brake frum het storie and I had sooooooooooooo muhc shooger I think I’m rellyrillylreally hypppppppperrrrrrrrrr!!!!!!!!!!!!111111111111 and now I no wat 2 do next in tehe stoy!
“U wont b abl 2 stop us frum killig her!!!1” sed botch.
“Y r u gong 2 kil her?!?!” Ahs dimandid.
“beuz were evill nd we don’t lyke u!!!1`1111” sed cassadee.
just then the other TR Jesy and Jmes came!!!!1
“Well stop u!!!!!1” sed James. He is TuH mAnLy LOL!@!!
but then caPPeday and Bootch got Jeskjdnjsadsakdsajka to!!!!111 (that is her ful nam incase u didn’t know)
“Lets stop thm 2gether!!!!!11’ sed Ash 2 Jams.
“Oky!!!11” James agreded.
and then the killed bitch and crappidy (LOL @ ther nmes! took me 4evr to cum up w/) and got Jassie and Msity bak!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!11111111111111111
“Jessy I need to tel u somthign I luv u!!!!111” sed Jmes.
“and I luv u 2 jams!!!11” sez jEsSy and hety strted 2 MAKEOUT!!!!!1111 EEEEEEE!!!! KAWAII!!!!!!!!
then ash and mitsi sed the same ting 2 eachother & also began makeingout!!!!!!!!!!11111111
AND THEY LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTR THE END!!!!!!!!11111111111
KAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIII!!!!!! ^_^ ^.^ ^_^ ^.^ ^_^ :) :) :)


“Sweet success,” breathed the girl softly, “Now I’m going to post this on fanfiction.net and get myself a lot of lovely reviews. Then maybe I can flame some of that sick Palletshipping crap…” she mused.

“You won’t even be posting that monstrosity, let alone flaming hapless Palletshippers,” came a voice that the girl couldn’t remember ever hearing before

“Who’s there?!” she squealed, holding an empty can of Pepsi to her chest fearfully.

“Prepare for trouble,” said a new voice.

“And make it double,” said the one who’d spoken before.

Two people stepped into the girl’s field of vision; there was a female wearing a Jessie and James-style Team Rocket uniform, except for the fact that the ‘R’ had been replaced with a ‘OF’. Then there was a male wearing mostly the same thing (minus the miniskirt and plus pants of course), though the letters on his shirt said ‘UK’.

“Team Rocket…?” asked the girl, hardly believing. These people didn’t look anything like her beloved Jessie and James, but they dressed like them, which was good enough for her.

“Not quite,” said the male, “but you’ll find out who we are soon.”

“To protect the world from badly written fanfiction,” said the female with flare.

“To stop all of those scarily obsessed fangirl vixens,” continued the male.

“To denounce the evils of Mary-Sues and OOC romance…”

“To give all the sucky writers a reforming chance…”

“Kris.”

“Kringle.”

“That’s not the name of Wild West outlaw! That’s another name for Santa Claus!” the girl protested loudly.

“You try finding two people with names that go together somehow. It’s not that easy. Now shut up and listen!” snapped Kris. After a moment of silence, she continued with their motto, “Team OFUK, giving your writing some much needed critique!”

“Come to the university or you’ll never be able to write fanfics again, you freak,” finished Kringle.

“…Interesting motto…” said the girl, her eyebrows raised.

Kris walked over to the computer, and quickly skimmed over the ‘kawaii’ romance fic that the girl had written earlier, “Interesting story,” she retorted.

The girl immediately smiled, “I know. Isn’t it terrific?”

“Only if you mean terrific in an extremely sarcastic sense,” said Kris, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Anyway,” said Kringle, “Are you…Tara-Sue Jenkins?” he asked. He did a double take and looked back at her name, “Tara-Sue?”

“Just because my parents are a bit on the hillbilly-ish side of things…” Tara-Sue broke off, staring at the ground, embarrassed. Abruptly, she raised her head again, “And it’s just Tara, if you will. Now what’s wrong with my masterpiece?!”

“To put it blatantly…” Kringle seemed lost for words.

“You are the biggest dunderhead of all time when it comes to writing,” Kris supplied.

Kringle nodded, “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

“Well that’s just your opinion, and I don’t listen to uh…” now it was Tara who was at loss for words. Unfortunately, she found them several seconds later, “big, mean, poo-poo heads like you! My mum said I’m special!”

“I bet Hitler’s mum said he was special too…” muttered Kringle.

“To get to the point,” said Kris, before Tara could throw a fit, “we work for The Official Fanfiction University of Kanto, or OFUK.”

“Nice acronym,” said Tara sarcastically.

Kris didn’t hear her, or at least pretended not to, “And since you’ve got such sad, sad writing you need to come to this university and complete three semesters before you are deemed safe to write again.”

“And if I don’t?” Tara challenged, hands on her hips.

“Didn’t you listen to the motto?” grumbled Kringle, irritated.

“Not very closely…I was thinking about what nice abs James has…” said Tara dreamily, “I mean, you came in wearing a uniform like his and it just got me to thinking…” her eyes glazed over and a bit of drool hung from her mouth.

“You can never write fanfiction again if you don’t meet the required standards! And if you don’t go, you certainly can’t meet them, you know,” said Kringle.

“Who’s going to force me to stop writing, huh?” said Tara, feeling superior.

Kris simply looked up at the sky, “Them,” she answered simply.

“Who?” asked Tara, her eyebrows creasing.

“We don’t speak their names…for they are too horrible to be uttered in the common tongue or the…er…non-common tongue,” said Kringle.

“Whatever. I’m going to bed, as this is obviously a nightmare. Goodbye,” stated Tara, beginning to walk to the stairs.

“You get to be taught by the cast of Pokemon!” yelled Kris after her retreating figure.

Tara suddenly turned around, “Forget what I said about a nightmare, and sign me up now!” she demanded, her eyes shining.

“Just fill out the paperwork, pack, and our people will see you at 6 AM sharp tomorrow morning,” with that, they sent out a customary Team Rocket smoke bomb, and were gone.

Tara coughed, brushing the away from her, “But wait…who’s giving me this paper-”

She was cut-off by the timely arrival of a sheet of paper floating down towards her.

“Convenient,” she said appreciatively, catching it with one hand.
******************************************************

Yeah, I know it was a bit short, but that was just a prologue of sorts ^^. Stay ‘tooned.
 
Heeheehee!

Although you call that *short*? That one chapter is longer than most of my completed fics!

...heeey, maybe that could be my role, teaching how to write shortfics...
 
Disclaimer: I don’t own Pokemon or any of its characters. Also, credit for the idea of fanfiction universities goes to Camilla Sandman, whom I would like to thank for letting me write this!
*************************************************************

Tara grabbed a pen from the computer desk, sat down and looked at the sheet in front of her.

Hello and congratulations on being accepted at the Official Fanfiction University of Kanto™! In order to make your experience at the Official Fanfiction University of Kanto™ more enjoyable, and to let us get to know a little more about you, please fill out the information sheet below! Answer truthfully!

“Yeah right,” muttered Tara when she read the last two words.

Your real name – Tara Jenkins

Your pen name – Iheartjamesandash2000

Your age – 14

Your favorite pokemon - Cacnea

Now wasn’t that fun! On the next parts, you must check one of the options, because as far as certain questions go, we here at the Official Fanfiction University of Kanto™ have been getting really strange answers, so you must use one of options unless otherwise specified.

Hair color (please check ONLY ONE. Rule-breakers will be punished!) –
A. Blonde
B. Brunette
C. Black
D. Blue
E. Green
F. Red
G. Silver
H. Gold
I. Purple
J. Pink


Tara thought a moment before checking blue. Black was a nice color and all, not to mention her natural color, but truth to tell it was getting a bit drab for her.

Please describe your hair – Long and wavy, falling just a bit past my shoulders. Also v. soft and thick. And how come this is with the ‘please check one’ questions anyway?!

Eye color –
A. Blue
B. Green
C. Brown
D. Black
E. Yellow
F. Red
G. Pink
H. Purple
I. Grey


Tara sighed. Descisions, decisions! Most of her original characters had two different colored eyes and having to choose one and only one for herself of all people was just…cruel. Finally, she decided on purple, whilst sighing dramatically.

Gender –
A. Female
B. Male


“Duh. What sort of dumbass would put another answer anyway?” said Tara, checking female.

Favorite Pokemon Male –
A. Ash
B. Brock
C. Tracey
D. Max
E. James
F. Butch
G. Mondo
H. Giovanni
I. Prof. Oak
J. Other


Tara felt like crying; how was she supposed to choose just one? She closed her eyes and did a quick ‘eenie-meanie-miny-mo’, and found, to her disgust, that it landed on Tracey. Making fake gagging noises, she tried again. This time she landed on James and checked, feeling satisfied.

Favorite Pokemon Female –
A. Misty
B. May
C. Jessie
D. Cassidy
E. Delia
F. Prof. Ivy
G. Domino
H. Other


“I’m supposed to actually LIKE any of them?” said Tara in a disgusted voice. “When they STEAL my males away?!” Pouting, she checked Delia, deciding that she wasn’t as much of a danger to her ‘hotties’ as the others.

Thank you for filling out this fun, fun sheet filled with FUN for those of us at the Official Fanfiction University of Kanto™! Please be packed and ready by 6:30 AM the morning following your completion of this sheet for the Official Fanfiction University of Kanto™!

Yours sincerely,

Richie Ashclonevich
Richie Ashclonevich, Deputy Headmaster

Tara stared at the signature, “RICHIE? Well that explains how weird this letter is anyway…” she paused a moment. “Who’s the nutter that made him Deputy Headmaster?” she shrugged and decided to pack.

“Ooooooh, I wonder if I’ll need my Pikachu socks? Yes, better pack them. Custom Ash shirt? Definitely. Pink Misty pants? What the?! When did I get THOSE? Ah well, maybe I can have a bonfire sometime.”

Soon, however, Tara lost patience with carefully sorting everything, and deciding whether or not she wanted them, and grabbed random clothing from her closet and drawers. Then she had the dilemma of deciding which fanart and fanfiction she wanted to take. Shrugging, she took her drawer filled with it and dumped all of the contents in her suitcase.

“Ah, what a workout,” moaned Tara a bit later after she finished packing; she collapsed on her bed, looking forward to a long, luxurious sleep.

Unfortunately for her, it only lasted fifteen minutes.

“Come on, come on, we haven’t got all morning here!” yelled a voice, jolting Tara out of her brief nap.

The reaction was immediate. Tara leaped out of bed, grabbed a lamp from her shelf and swung it at the intruder, who merely stepped to the side.

“Are you mad, kid?” snapped the voice. Tara looked up and, upon seeing the label ‘OFUK’ emblazoned on the er… ‘intruder’s’ denim jacket, her face dawned with comprehension.

“Oh…you came to bring me to the University…place…thing,” said Tara lamely.

The man snorted and ran a hand through his hair, “Somebody give our wunderkind here a prize.”

Tara put her hands on her hips, “Hey, you startled me!” she paused for a moment before adding, “Who are you anyway? I don’t ever remember seeing you in Pokemon!”

“My name is Julian, and no I suppose you wouldn’t know who I am,” he sighed dramatically. “I, madam, am an OC.”

Tara stared at him blankly.

“In other words, an Original Character, oh ye of complete and total idiocy,” said Julian superiorly.

“Er…” Tara stared at him blankly again. “So then…why are you working for the fukkie people?”

Julian raised an eyebrow, “The fukkie people? Are you speaking of the Official Fanfiction University of Kanto, perchance? And I happen to be working for them for one simple and stupid reason: the author who created me sucked. Whenever an OC author creates a bad story…or several, they are taken to the university, and we, the OCs, are thereby bound to serve it.”

“Why?” demanded Tara, who had several OCs and didn’t like to think of them wearing gaudy denim OFUK jackets.

“Honestly, if I knew, I would have figured a way around it by now. I am a genius, you know,” he tapped the side of his head. “Also, I am the son of Giovanni, and thereby have plenty of resources,” he gave another sigh. “Or did anyway, before I was frisked off and forced to do the work of a common servant!”

“Anger management, Julie,” said Tara tentatively.

Of course, this had the opposite effect of what it was supposed to, “CALL ME JULIE AGAIN AND YOU DIE! ARE WE CLEAR?!” Julian screamed, getting right in her face.

“Impeccably clear!” squeaked Tara immediately.

“Good,” snarled Julian in a low voice, “now come on.”

“Where?” said Tara, feeling like the epitome of stupidity.

“Come, doltish one,” said Julian briskly.

“But I don’t know where! And doltish isn’t a word!” Tara protested.

“Oh? Well, I am a genius. I can make up words as I deem necessary. And did you perhaps think that maybe, if you followed me, you might figure out where I was taking you?” asked Julian in a long-suffering tone of voice.

Tara picked up her bags, “Shut up! It’s early and you’re giving me a headache, Julie-” at his glare, she caught her mistake, “-an. Julian.”

Julian gave her a withering look, “I feel a most powerful urge to kill you. Fortunately for you, I have incredible self-restraint,” he led her outside of her house, where a large, black helicopter was parked. “Inside, nitwit.”

“Why are you so rude?” whined Tara, as he got into the helicopter behind her and shut the door. “It’s really, really, really mean!”

“Oh be quiet, Ms. Moaner. We’ve got to pick up several more people before ten. Next on the list…” he took a clipboard from a duffle bag on the floor and looked at it, “…a Ms. X, located approximately one hundred miles from here.”

Tara gave him her worst glare, sunk down in her seat and sulked.
************************************************************

Ok, so here you have it! If you want to be in OFUK, you need to fill out the form from this chapter and leave it in either a PM or an e-mail to me.

Blackjack - Hee! I guess I just think of anything as short if it's under 2000 words, which both chapters have been thus far. But I suppose you could teach everyone how to write short fics, if you weren't just joking there ^^. Of course, you may want to teach me first, as I've only ever written one truely short fic.
 
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I *love* this story! I mean it honestly, too, I'm not just saying that. The idea is great, and Tara-sue is so funny. XD I really liked the part where she was filling out the form. ^_^
 
Disclaimer: Ms. Cam own idea for ficcie universities. Nintendo own Pokemon. Me own everything that no one else would WANT to own.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Stay in the copter,” Julian commanded Tara as they landed in front of the house belonging to someone named ‘X’.

Tara pouted, “But my legs are going numb! I need exercise, and besides, I think I’m going to get copter-sick,” she gave a dramatic moan and clutched her stomach.

Julian gave her a very menacing look, “You had BETTER not get sick in MY helicopter!”

“Why, is it your only friend?” muttered Tara sullenly.

The next thing she knew, Julian had picked her up and threw her from the helicopter; she landed nearby in a large garbage bin.

“I do hope you get your fresh air while I’m fetching Ms. X,” said Julian, snickering evilly as he grabbed a silver lid and placed it on top of the garbage bin.

The moment she heard the house’s door swing shut behind Julian, Tara tossed her cookies. It was rather sick, considering that she was in a confined space, and therefore it all landed on her.

“JULIE, I HATE YOU!” she howled, trying to stand up and get the lid off the garbage bin with little success. After about five minutes, she finally pushed it off; unfortunately, such was the force behind this that it caused the bin to flip onto its side and start rolling down the street.

“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK! MY SPLEEN!” echoed through the neighborhood.

~*~

Twenty minutes later, the helicopter was taking off again. Much to her chagrin, Julian had summoned some sort of creature by the name of ‘Misti’ that looked like an unusually small Deoxys to fit her with plastic body bag that would keep her ‘filth’ off the seat of his precious helicopter.

X, the girl whom Julian had come to pick up, was a very…interesting person. Although she was, of course, a Pokemon fan, she also had a not-so-small obsession with Megaman X – not to mention some guy by the name of ‘Zero’ who was apparently also a part of the whole Megaman franchise. At the moment, X was rambling to no one in particular about the many wonderful qualities of Zero.

“I like his hair. It’s all long and blonde and PRETTY!” she paused for a moment. “Er…what was I saying?”

Julian gave an audible sigh and rolled his eyes for so long that Tara was concerned that he may have passed out.

Deciding she should be nice and try to start conversation, Tara replied, “Yes, Zero is good and fine,” in truth, Tara had no idea whatsoever about Zero’s looks or personality, “but I know about some guys who are even MORE delicious.”

X’s eyes lit up, “You do? Who?” when Tara did not respond within five seconds, X reached over the seats, grabbed her plastic body suit and began to shake her. “TELL ME WHO, DAMNIT!”

“James!” said Tara quickly. By now she was very concerned for X’s sanity. “I mean, think. His abs, his hair, his fashion sense, his intelligence - ”

At this, Julian gave a derisive snort, “James couldn’t think his way through a game of tic-tac-toe if he had Jessie hissing directions in his ear from the sidelines. Most unfortunate, doesn’t know the difference between an X and an O, that one…”

“I’m an X!” said X happily.

“You. Moron.” said Julian, giving her a withering look.

However, this didn’t seem to perturb X in this slightest, “I’ve also got a friend who thinks she’s an Attacked Banana. Actually, she doesn’t exist and her name’s Yag, but I think that if I treat her like she’s real person, one day she will become real!”

“Ummmm…” Tara wasn’t exactly sure how to respond to this.

“Hey, it worked in the tale of the Velveteen Rabbit!” snapped X defensively.

Julian gave her a gentle look and said slowly, “X, my dear, the Velveteen Rabbit is a work of fiction. Say it with me, Fic-shun. As in, not real.”

“You mean…it’s not?” whispered X, looking as though her entire world had just been shattered.

~*~

It was to both Tara’s and Julian’s immense relief when they landed at the university two hours later.

“I still think you’re wrong about the Velveteen Rabbit, you know!” screamed X as two of the tiny Deoxys grabbed her from the helicopter and began dragging her towards the front of a very impressive building with a huge banner across the front.

Tara was forced (by a very irate Julian) to carry her own luggage. Julian himself had stormed off, grumbling about how one day he would get revenge on the world for everything that had ever happened to him, to a large red building near the main university.

“All fanwriters, please assemble by the large fountain out front!” came a voice from a nearby loudspeaker.

Suddenly, there also came a proclamation of, “AAAAAAAAAAAAGH! GET THEM AWAY! GET THEM AWAY! NOOOOOOOOOOOO, HOW DID THEY GET IN HERE?! OH GOD, WHY?!”

This was followed by several girlish voice exclaiming, “No Sam, don’t run! We won’t hurt you, we swear!”

Shrugging, Tara made her way over to the fountain (complaining to herself of the horrible weight of her luggage the whole way) and sat down.

“Any idea what that’s about?” asked a girl sitting near her, gesturing at the loudspeaker.

“No idea,” said Tara tiredly, rubbing her arms. Oh the woes of being forced to carry one’s own luggage.

The girl put a hand to her chin and said thoughtfully, “I think they’re stampeding Professor Oak…” after a moment she added, “my name’s Hitchi, who’re you?”

Tara ignored her last statement, “EEEEEW!” she shrieked so loudly that it caused several nearby people to jump. “He’s got old man germs!”

“Hey,” snapped another girl. “Some of us find his sagely wisely-ness sexy, you wench.”

“But…he’s old,” said Tara as though this was all the reason anyone needed not to find Professor Oak attractive.

“Doesn’t stop Delia Ketchum, does it?” snickered yet another girl. Several people who were apparently Oak fangirls snarled and jumped on her, proceeding to beat the stuffing out the poor hapless Eldershipping fan.

Tara was still in a state of shock, “He’s old…” she whined softly.

At that precise moment, the subject of Tara’s distress appeared in front of them. His shirt was torn and his hair was sticking up more than usual – in other words, he hardly looked mentally stable.

“Eh…hello,” said Oak quietly, his eyes scanning the crowd of writers in a paranoid fashion, “as most of you know, my name is Professor Samuel Oak, and I will be speaking to you about the basics of our university.”

“SAAAAAAAAAAAAAAM!” screamed one girl dashing through the throng of writers as fast as humanely possible, arms opened wide. Just as she was about to reach the object of her desires, she was knocked backwards by yet another miniature Deoxys.

Professor Oak smiled at them deviously, “Ah yes, first order of business. Mini-Deoxys,” he turned to the one that had just knocked out the fangirl. “Good work, Samul.”

There were distraught murmurings from the fanwriters. Especially the ones who had previously been to some place called ‘The Official Fanfiction University of Middle-Earth’.

“Now, can anyone tell me how these Mini-Deoxys come to be?” asked Oak pleasantly.

One girl near the front raised her hand, “T-the names…the misspelled names…AAAAAAAAAH, IT’S MINI-BALROGS ALL OVER AGAIN!” she promptly fainted.

“Um…yes,” said Professor Oak, looking at her with some concern. “The simplest way to put it is, well, here’s this little bit of prose that I devised:
Every time a name’s misspelled in Pokemon,
A Mini-Deoxys turns up on our lawn
,” he looked around eagerly, as though expecting great applause.

The majority of the fanwriters groaned loudly.

“Get it? Lawn? Pokemon? It rhymes, really it does!” Professor Oak insisted.

“Get on with it, oldie!” snarled someone else from the crowd.

Professor Oak sighed heavily, “We genius are so unappreciated…” he straightened up. “Anyway, as you may know, you’ve been sent to this university to learn better writing. Your classes will begin Monday, that is two days from now for those of you whose brains have already been so rotted by summer vacation that you no longer memorize the dates, and your schedules will be handed out shortly. Now, if you’ll follow me inside…”

He ushered them inside the impressive university. It looked rather like the Hogwarts to Tara. It seemed she wasn’t the only one who thought this, as many of the people around her seemed to find it necessary to point this out to their neighbours.

“Yes, yes indeed this structure is modeled on your ‘Hogwarts’. The coordinator is an unfortunately huge Harry Potter freak, wouldn’t have it any other way,” muttered Professor Oak, looking as though this greatly displeased him. “Our coordinator’s obsession also explains the phase that you will be going through shortly – the Sorting.”

“Ooh, you mean we’re going to be able to put on the Sorting Hat, and it will tell us if we belong in Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, or Hufflepuff?” asked a fanwriter excitedly.

Professor Oak gave them an evil smile once again, “Not quite. You see, we couldn’t just lift this all from the Potterverse. We’d be facing some horribly large copyright infringements, wouldn’t we now? So instead, we settled for not-so charming alternatives.”

“Um, Professor Oak, I think I speak for everyone when I say ‘What the hell’?!” said a person near Tara who she thought was called Toraphim Honor, or something like that.

“First of all, you will not be putting on the Sorting Hat. Instead, you will be unceremoniously thrown into the Sorting Vat.”

“Unceremoniously thrown?” yelped several people, Tara among them.

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” said Professor Oak, who seemed to be enjoying their expressions of horror. “Now then, you will, of course have the choice of being Sorted into one of four Houses. Our four Houses here at OFUK are Plotlessdor, for those of you who love writing those erm…amusingly random stories and such, or don’t even know what a plot is…”

“What’s a plot?! What’s a plot?!” X was whispering frantically to everyone around her.

“Flufflepuff, best suited to those among you who write nauseatingly OOC romance…”

Tara, for once, had the sense to blush, as did several others.

“Angstinclaw, a House where all the authors with scary obsessions for dark, future-of-Pokemon stories where all the canon characters are depressed and suicidal…”

“Does anyone know what canon is?” asked X hopefully. Several people looked at her and slapped their hands to their foreheads.

“And finally, Suetherin – ” Professor Oak’s eyes wandered over to a girl who was drawing a female figure on a sketchpad. The character in question had beautiful, long, flowing hair, bright, shining eyes, long fingers heavily adorned with jewelry, a very slender figure, and basoomers all too gigantic to be plausible, “which needs no explanation,” finished Professor Oak, shaking his head sadly.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Another chapter done and gone *sigh*. Anywho, for those of you who wanted to be students, could you send me a PM telling me what House you'd want to be in?
 
I love your stories. This is hysterical. I almost feel sorry for Tara. Almost. Oh, put me in this story. Anywhere. I don't care how.
 
Sorry for the slight delay, but here's the next chapter!

Disclaimer: I don’t own Pokemon, and I don’t own the idea for fanfiction universities, which goes to Miss Cam!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Come now, it’s time,” said Professor Oak, leading them through a large set of doors and into a room obviously modeled off of Hogwarts’s Great Hall. Of course, there was a staff table, and four tables for the four different Houses. The staff table was situated at the front, and in the middle of the room was a giant, bubbling vat with two of the House tables on either side.

Oddly enough, everyone in the room was wearing sunglasses. Oak had just pulled some on as well.

Tara blinked, looking around the room for something that might need to be viewed through the safety of dark lenses. Then her eyes rested on the Sorting Vat. A weird, gooey substance had just plopped out. It was the ugliest, most despicable color Tara had ever laid eyes on.

Apparently, she wasn’t the only one who thought so, because many of the fanwriters around her gasped in horror and fainted dead away.

“Oh. Did I forget to mention blorange to you?” asked Professor Oak politely. Tara had the distinct impression that he had not truly ‘forgotten’ at all.

Hitchi had her hands over her mouth and was looking as though she might hurl at any second, “What’s blorange?” she inquired.

Or at least that was what Tara thought she said - very hard to hear people when they’re covering their mouths with their hands, you know.

“Blorange is…well, just think of it as blue and orange in the worst possible combination,” Professor Oak explained. “I’d advise you to close your eyes while you’re in the Sorting Vat, or there’s a good possibility you’ll be blinded for life, as some of our other students unfortunately found out last semester.”

Several people gulped.

From the staff table, Delia Ketchum stood up, “I will be reading your names in a completely random order. When you hear your name, step up to the large Machoke,” she gestured to a Machoke that was a few feet in front of them, “and he will throw you into the Sorting Vat. Once it has decided where to place you, it will spit you out and you should fall directly into a seat at your new House’s table.”

She paused a moment, and them added very quickly, “The Official Fanfiction University of Kanto is not responsible for anyone blinded by the Blorange Coloring of the Sorting Vat, or anyone who has a less than smooth landing at their House table.”

Several more people gulped.

“Let the Sorting begin!” cried Delia, picking up her list of names.

“Isn’t it supposed to sing first?” yelled one writer. “The Sorting Hat sings!”

“Well,” said Delia, in a would-be pleasant voice, “this isn’t the Sorting Hat, now is it?”

“It’s a close enough! You’d think if you ripped something off from somewhere else, you’d at least rip it off right!” retorted the same writer as before.

“Ahem…Jamed, Jassy, take ‘im away,” said Professor Oak, snapping his fingers as two Mini-Deoxys appeared. They grabbed the unfortunate writer and carried him out of the faux Great Hall.

“Does anyone else have any objections?” asked Delia, a smug smile on her face.

The new fanwriters all shook their heads mutely as cries of terror issued from the direction in which one of their number had been taken.

“Good,” replied Delia sadistically. “X?”

X looked around, “Huh? What?”

“Come up to the Machoke, dear,” said Delia exasperatedly.

Oh,” said X, nodding wisely as she walked up to the fighting pokemon. It lifted her in its arms and threw her into the vat, causing some blorange to slosh out. The older students who happened to be sitting closest to it screamed and ducked under their tables.

For a moment, all was still, and then a deep voice cried, “TO PLOTLESSDOR WITH HER!” after which it spat X out and she landed on one of her fellow Plotlessdors, who didn’t seem all that happy.

“Hitchi,” said Delia, smirking; no one had ever seen anything quite like it – Delia wasn’t supposed to be evil she was supposed to be maternal.

Shaking, Hitchi stepped up to the Machoke and let out a shriek as she was hurtled through the air and into the Sorting Vat.

It seemed to take longer with her, before yelling, “SEND HER TO FLUFFLEPUFF!” Hitchi flew through the air, landing in the middle of the Flufflepuff table with a resounding ‘clunk’.

“Toraphim Honor!” yelled Delia.

Toraphim Honor stepped up and said snappishly, “I’d appreciate being called Luna Tiger, if it’s all the same to you,” the Machoke shrugged and swung her around several times before throwing her into the vat.

There was a minute’s silence, and then, “GIVE THIS ONE TO ANGSTINCLAW!” It shot Tora – er…Luna Tiger out of itself like a cannon and she flew down the Angstinclaw table, knocking over several food items.

Delia looked down at the list, “Ketsuban!”

Ketsuban pranced forward, looking very cheerful. It was therefore a rather large surprise when, after she had been thrown into the vat, it took only five seconds to pronounce her an Angstinclaw. She landed gracefully at her table; everyone was rather sure that she would be both the first and the last to do so.

“Tara-Sue Jenkins!” said Delia loudly. Everyone looked around to see who the person with the dorky name was. Tara, for her part, was paralyzed by fear.

A Mini-Deoxys began to wade through the crowd and was…sniffing them. It rested on Tara, nodded, and then reached down her shorts, and pulled up her underwear, which had ‘Tara-Sue’ written on it in loving, motherly lettering.

Everyone broke out in guffaws of laughter – after all, not only was her name written on them, but they were bright pink with Teletubbies on them.

Tara wanted to die. Quickly.

The Mini-Deoxys pushed her forward to the Machoke, who took one look at her beet red face and burst out into another round of laughter before picking her up and thrusting her into the Vat. Luckily for Tara, she closed her eyes just in time.

Hahahaha! Er…excuse me. Let’s see what we have here. Oh my, you’re a right little mess, aren’t you Tara-Sue?

‘Don’t call me Tara-Sue, you stupid, inconsiderate, foul, loathsome, evil little cockroach!’ Tara thought, her hands balling into fists.

Oooh, that hurt. Someone’s been watching a bit much Harry Potter, I see. Well…anyway, you’d be a very good candidate for Suetherin, but god knows we get enough of them. I think you’ll thrive in Flufflepuff.

‘I don’t want to. I’m a good writer! I don’t belong at this stupid school! I’M A GOOD WRITER!’ Tara yelled to it mentally.

That’s what they all say, you stupid wench. SEND HER TO FLUFFLEPUFF!

The next thing Tara knew, she had been shot out of the Sorting Vat (whom she had decided was a very vindictive bastard that she was going to get revenge on as soon as she had the chance) and flew through the air, landing head first into someone’s pudding.

“Umm…” the person whose pudding Tara had landed in spoke up, “my name is Barb…and you’re in my pudding.”

Tara felt her thoughts spinning in every direction at once, and did not reply.

Barb took a stick from the ground and began to poke the unresponsive girl.

“Mummy…I want the pumpkin pie for desert. Ok mummy? Is it tea time in fantasy land?” Tara asked, giggling feebly. She hardly noticed when the next five girls after her were quickly Sorted into Suetherin.

Barb raised an eyebrow and slid her plate out from under Tara’s head.

Tara pointed towards the ceiling, “Lucy goosey, the sky is falling!” Then she passed out.
*********************************************************

Hmmm…that was an…interesting ending, and it was rather short. Heh, admissions are still open for everyone interested!
 
Hee hee! That was very amusing. And oddly, most of the people I know who would be Angstinclaws are rather cheerful people... or at least not overly angsty. *pointed glance in Blacky's direction*

Oh! I need to finish that story about Ruby's angsty childhood! *hurries off*
 
Glad to know you guys like it. ^^.

Hmmm...Blackjack, how about you be an alumni who's come back to teach? An Angstinclaw alumni, of course.
 
Aw, Ket got it best. XD *senses favoritism!..well, not quite; who cares* I love this, it makes me laugh 'til it hurts. So what's actually talking, the vat or the blorange?

*tickled* ....Blorange.

*tickled* Blorange?

*tickled* Blorange. :3 Nyao~
 
Heh, that'd be the Vat...'tis magical ^^.

Blorange is TeH 3VIL!

Favoritism...? Nooooooo. *Shakes head and smiles*. I love everyone the same!

*Watchs bemusedly as everyone backs away from her*
 
I wouldn't mind being included here. Considering my history in the world of Pokémon fanfiction (author of the original Advice for Aspiring Authors), I think the best role would be as either an instructor or guest lecturer.
 
Whee! Chapter 5 'tis ready!

Disclaimer: TRF does not own Pokemon. Miss Cam owns the idea for universities. JK Rowling owns House Elves, which TRF is speaking like right now! Wait…TRF never got permission from the creators of Pokemon to use their characters…Bad TRF! Bad TRF! *Hits herself with a lamp*
**************************************************************

The morning after the Sorting, a very confused Tara woke up in a four-poster bed. For a moment, she forgot where she was, leaped out of bed, and tried to push open the door (paying no attention to the knob). When this failed, she slid down and broke into hysterical sobs.

“Wazzup?” muttered a voice from the bed above Tara’s.

“I don’t know!” cried Tara, her sobs suddenly intensifying.

The person rolled out of bed, falling to the floor with a ‘thud’, blankets still wrapped tightly around her.

Monster!” shrieked Tara, who was obviously still highly disoriented.

“Mmmmm…’m tired…” murmured the person, trying to disentangle herself from the blankets. “Help me here,” she snapped to Tara.

“I don’t help monsters who want to eat me alive and grind my bones to make their bread!” said Tara breathily, her fists clenching. “I’ll FIGHT you, knave!”

“Stupid…mumble…do it myself then…mumble…” the girl, with a bit of difficulty, pushed herself away from the blankets, showing a pale face with short, messy violet hair.

Tara’s eyes widened. “You…you’re human!”

“No, and here I thought I was an alien from Namek. How disappointing,” she said, sarcasm heavily apparent.

“Who’re you? Where am I? Is this one of those government conspiracies the sci-fi geeks at my school are always talking about?!” shrieked Tara, her voice rising steadily with each word.

The girl gave her an odd look. “Er…my name is Natasha Pinkley, this is the Official Fanfiction University of Kanto, and as far I know, there’s no conspiracy…”

Memories of the previous day suddenly filled Tara’s mind, and comprehension dawned on her face. “Oh…I remember now…”

“Good. I wasn’t going to explain it to you,” said Natasha happily. “Better get dressed then, we’re going on a tour of the school today.”

“Right…” muttered Tara, reaching over to her suitcase and pulling out a few clothes.

“Not in that!” snapped Natasha, raising an eyebrow. “If you recall, we’ve got uniforms,” she gestured towards a pile yellow-and-black robes sitting in a neat stack in the corner.

“But those are so ugly!” whimpered Tara, feeling more like her old self with each passing seconds.

“Yes, well, I suppose they couldn’t just rip off the Harry Potter uniforms straight out,” said Natasha shrugging and taking the top most one before disappearing into what must have been the bathroom.

“I refuse to wear these,” said Tara, a very dignified air to her voice.

“Have fun in the nuddy-pants then,” came Natasha’s muffled reply.

Not for the first time since receiving her letter, Tara wanted to cry – again.

~*~

Tara looked down at her uniform in disgust at breakfast that morning. “I cannot believe I put this on…why do they want to torture us like this?” she complained to Barb, who was buttering a piece of toast and not looking all that interested.

Near the entrance the faux Great Hall, a girl wearing Plotlessdor robes was clutching a man around the ankle, and appeared to be trying to bribe him with a large wad of cash.

“Ooooh, Murg doesn’t look happy,” noted Barb as the girl got up and began to wave the money in his face.

“I don’t remember ever hearing of a guy called Murg in the anime…” said Tara, her brow furrowing.

“You wouldn’t, would you? He and Blackjack,” she pointed to a woman sitting at the staff table, “are alumni. They help teach. Don’t cross them, though, just because they aren’t from canon. It’ll get ugly.”

“Would you know that from personal experience, perchance?” asked a cool male voice with a slight British accent, coming from behind them.

“Julian!” said Tara, knowing who it was without turning around.

“Yes. That would be me, Ms. Jenkins,” said Julian, swaggering up to face them.

Barb looked at him, “Don’t you usually avoid crowds?”

“Usually,” Julian responded, an expression of distaste on his face. “As do many of the other OCs, but I was on clean-up duty last night…” he winced. “God, when I have the strength to take on that sadist who made up blorange…”

“That will be double duty, Mr. DiRocketti,” said another voice, approaching from the same way that Julian had come, “for insulting your coordinator.”

“I’m not a student, you know. And as much as you would wish you had supreme control of all, Ms. TRF, you are, as you say, naught but the coordinator,” said Julian smoothly.

TRF stomped into view, her arms crossed across her chest. “Hey! I’ve got as much rule as - ”

“Do save it for someone who cares, twit,” said Julian. He smirked at the incensed look on TRF’s face and went to the breakfast line.

“Urgh! He’s so much more trouble than he’s worth!” snarled TRF, stamping off to the staff table.

Tara stared after her, “Um…who was that again?”

“The coordinator. She’s the one who set up the system of OFUK. Not very fond of Julian, as you can see,” Barb remarked.

“Well, he is a git,” said Tara, looking over at him.

Suddenly, there was a large explosion from outside the hall, and frantic students came running in, their robes badly singed and ripped.

“IT’S BETHIE BONKERS! SHE SET OFF A ROCKET BOMB!” yelled one of the students, dashing up to the staff table, where she collapsed – perhaps a bit too conveniently – at James’s feet.

Tara was beginning to think she’d never understand OFUK. Never. “Who’s er…Bethie Bonkers?”

As many of the staff members went running down the hall and into the hall, looking very panicked, Barb raised an eyebrow and answered, “Weird girl in Plotlessdor. She keeps graduating, then violating the rules within a week of getting out, and being sent back. This is, what, the seventh time she’s been a 3rd term student?”

“Eight, Barb,” answered someone from down the table.

Hitchi moved over to join their conversation. “Does she have anything to do with that girl down there?” she asked, pointing towards a girl at the end of the table, scribbling on a piece of paper. Everyone seemed to be giving her wide berth.

“Not really…well…sort of. Every House seems to have its resident nutter. That’s Romantic Rona. She’s a rabid Pokeshipper who can’t seem to stop writing out of character romances that, as of late, have always involved the flaming death of May…”

Tara, who had sort of felt sorry for the girl earlier, felt that feeling evaporate immediately.

Barb looked over towards the Angstinclaw table and nodded her head towards a girl out of uniform (dressed in all black), who was currently giving Ketsuban an extremely dirty look for what appeared to be no reason whatsoever. “Over there, that’s Depressed Deirdre.”

“Don’t forget her other nickname – Deirdre Dementor,” whispered a girl who was sitting near them. She shivered and explained, “because, you know, she sort of has that effect on things…”

Depressed Deirdre saw a flower growing in between the cracks in the faux Great Hall’s stone floor and picked it up. Almost immediately, it turned to ice and shattered. Tara felt herself shudder.

“Then Suetherin has actually got four of them,” said Barb, pointing towards four happily chattering girls at the end of the Suetherin table, and began to name them from left to right. “Sassy Samantha, Shrieking Selma, Snappy Serene, and Sickening Samara.”

“They’ve written almost all of the most notorious ‘Sues to plague the Pokemon fandom,” said Jane McRandomcharacter.

“Attention new students!” yelled Jessie, marching up to the staff table, the end of her hair singed, looking very disgruntled. The other characters were following behind her, their clothes a bit torn.

James jogged up to her. “Come to the doorway and make two lines – one should have people with surnames starting with A through M, and the other with those whose surnames start with N through Z.”

“Have fun,” said Barb, smirking in a rather annoyingly knowing way as Tara, Hitchi, and the other new students got up.

As she and Hitchi both moved to the A – M section, they encountered the girl who had been trying to bribe Murg for something earlier. Tara, of course, couldn’t resist speaking up.

“So, what were you doing earlier? And…uh…who are you anyway?” she asked, tapping the girl on the shoulder.

The girl shook one of her green pigtails back, and turned to face them. “I’m PepazaGal, and, er…” she scanned the area with her pink eyes, as though worried about eavesdroppers (‘Like the whole place didn’t see her earlier,’ thought Tara), “I was trying to bribe that Murg guy to give me passage to…” she paused dramatically for a moment, “…the staff area.”

“Huh?” said both Hitchi and Tara at the same time.

PepazaGal sighed. “I found out from the older students last night – that’s where all the teachers relax, sleep, eat, what-have-you. Off limits to students, of course. I want to talk to Ash!”

Tara gasped. “Me too! I love Ash! James too, but, well…ASH!” she screamed as she saw the boy from Pallet walking over to their group. He looked uncharacteristically nervous, and was surrounded by about twenty Mini-Deoxys.

“OH MY GOD! I LOVE YOU ASH!” shouted PepazaGal.

Of course, this had drawn the attention of those who hadn’t before noticed Ash slowly creeping up to them. Soon, they were standing as close to him as the Mini-Deoxys would allow, weighing him down with marriage proposals, and taking out various items and waving them in the air, begging him to sign them. One girl was bold enough to ask if he would sign her butt.

“Ummmmm…” Ash looked around at them like a deer in headlights. “MISTY, I CAN’T DO THIS! I can battle Pokemon, I can take on dangerous quests, heck, I can let myself be nobly killed, but I can’t face these…these…” he looked at all of them. “Er…what do you guys call yourselves?”

“FANGIRLS!” they all shrieked in unison.

“Yeah, fangirls,” said Ash sheepishly.

Misty Waterflower herself walked over to them, mallet in one hand, frying pan in the other. “Ok, you’ve had your fun, now lay off him!” she commanded.

The girls were less than eager to comply. In fact, many of them (Tara included) gave Misty a look of deepest loathing.

“You think you’re such hot stuff that you can run ‘round with our Ash?! Huh?! HUH?!” snarled a girl up front. “Well you’re not! You’re a pissy little - ”

Unfortunately, the girl never had time to finish her sentence. A Mini-Deoxys bearing a nameplate with ‘Mtisy’ written on it formed a ball of energy in its hands and shot it at the girl, who went flying through the doors.

Ash turned to give them an uneasy smile. “Don’t get on Misty’s bad side, you don’t even want to know how many misspellings of her name there are.”

“Indeed,” said Misty huffily. She turned to face the jumpy students. “What’re you standing there for? We’ve got to get a move on!”

“Yes ma’am!” they all squeaked, looks of dread upon their faces. Looking longingly back at the older students, still calmly eating, they followed Ash and Misty out of the hall.

“I wish I was in the group lead by Jessie and James,” murmured a girl standing by Tara, Hitchi, and PepazaGal. “Rocketto Dan Yo Ein Ni.”

Immediately, Misty turned around to them, “And what…” she said in a deceptively calm voice, “DID YOU JUST SAY?!”

The girl yelped and jumped backward a few feet. “N – nothing. Nothing at all.”

Misty fingered her frying pan. “That’s what I thought.”
**************************************************************
 
Indeed. Paint the sky blorange! *Stands dramatically with a blorange paint brush in one hand*

Hmmm...I just got an idea for the future...hehehe....
 
Okay! Yes, I am finally getting read this! I said I would...
My printer is in the process of spooling all 19 pages of this...yes, I prefer to read fanfiction offline. I'm weird. XD So, should I still fill out a form? I was reading some of your authors notes and saw in that chapter that's what we were supposed to do.
 
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