Originally Posted by autism
There's a way to get around the "dumb a" word. Dumb-ass. (note the dash.) "Puppet-pants?! That made me laugh at how dumb that insult was. (no offense) If you use the word "pants" in an insult it's just juvenile. But pretty good.
Thanks for the tips. And the bump. xD Anyway, here's chapter 8...
Chapter 8: Treecko
If you’re planning to ask me, Is Butch a capable trainer? I’d say that at any rate, he does quite well. Even if his talent doesn’t show too much for most people to believe, at the very least he is just a smidgen better than that old coot, Professor Birch. That cack is quite possibly a Pokemon torturer, I can predict – restricting poor Torchic, Mudkip and me in the laboratory all day to face cacophonous chaps goggling at us like we were some sort of side-show freaks. Thank heavens that the one Birch finally gave me off to wasn’t one of those squealing lads. I indeed have to thank the Lord for that.
In a nutshell, Butch and Cassidy don’t grant me my freedom with more frequency than Shupster, that spunky apparition. It’s only natural – Shupster behaves more like a human being than me, I have got to say. He (it doesn’t really take an Oxford graduate to acknowledge that he is a guy) also does not have the look of running away from the twosome anytime soon. I wonder why – that Ralts who is situated in the pokeball beside me on Butch’s belt has been thirsting for her freedom for as long as about the day she was healed at the Pokemon Center. I do think that she is taking the fact of being in a trainer’s control for granted – life, indeed, gets terribly stale if you are living alone, and I do not, for certain, think Ralts realizes that. If I were her, I would appreciate what I have and if I cannot withstand being in captivity anymore, at the very least I would wait until I am sent out to the battlefield. Yes, indeed, I have tried telling her that very sentence, but she has not tried to take in my wise words of British Royal-family descent, and insist on being free.
After my lengthy description of the people I am traveling with, I passed an advertisement board – we were checking out of Motel Rêve de la Fleur (with that name of beauty, I assume this place is Petalburg City, Hoenn) and moving on with our adventure. Suddenly I heard Cassidy take a long, excited draw of air.
“Look, Butch!” Cassidy exclaimed, her eyes wide. “A gym, dude!”
“So what? We’re going to lose anyway.”
“You know, traveling with you is like, totally ****. You’re not optimistic.”
I suppressed a laugh, for the third time in a week. It is quite funny to hear the two quarrel, especially for petty matters.
“Errghh,” said Shupster. “Hell with it, just go in.”
Outside the gym I could see a sign, which said, “Petalburg City Gym. Leader: Norman.” The name Norman sounded quite tough, and I wasn’t very sure if the two misfits could really handle him and win a badge. But before I could utter a word for Shupster to translate, they had already opened the door with a crash, entering the gym to a shocked Norman with quite a show. Standing next to Norman was the fragile child with green hair, Wally, crying uncontrollably.
“They…they… that scary Treecko… pounded on the Ralts and KILLED IT!” cried Wally, still facing Norman, in between sobs. “Should I never ask favors from grown-ups ever, ever again?”
Scary? How, in what sense, am I scary? I knew not to lose my temper, though – he is, evidently, just a child.
Norman waved at Butch and Cassidy. “Hello there!” he said cheerfully, as the shocked look melted away and a pleased one replaced it. “I suppose you are here for the Double League!”
“Yeah,” said Butch with a smile that faded instantly when his gaze fell on the sobbing Wally. He rubbed his hands together and chewed his lip. “Uh oh.”
Wally jumped immediately at the sound of Butch’s voice. “You,” he whispered weakly. Then his face crumbled as he burst into another wave of tears and threw closed the door of the gym as he exited.
“Well,” said Norman with a barely visible hint of a smile. “You two were the one that supposedly,” and here his smile widened, “‘killed’ Ralts.”
Cassidy smacked her hand to her head and sighed. “Yeah, we are. Hey, can we challenge you? We’re for the Double League.”
“Why, yes,” said Norman, smiling warmly. He looked at both the misfits’ belts, to check that he wasn’t just nearsighted that he was only seeing two pokeballs. And then his questioning gaze fell onto the red bag, the bag that Shupster had deceitfully acquired from May, the ten-year-old girl. Norman’s smile instantly morphed into a suspicious scowl.
“Just one question,” he said. “Where, may I ask, did you get that backpack?”
Cassidy glanced nervously at Butch, and said with a forced chuckle, “Why, may I ask, did you ask that? Do you feel that this bag is fashionable in any sense? If that is the case, may I recommend to you the shopping mall at – ” Her advertisement was returned by a tense silence and a phony smile from Norman.
“Thank you,” said Norman in his fake smile. “But in fact, my daughter already has this kind of bag.”
Butch bit his lip again. “Daughter?”
“Yes,” said Norman calmly. “Unfortunately,” he continued, “she called in yesterday and told me it was stolen - ” a glimmer of a genuine smile reappeared on his face, “by a puppet-like ghost Pokemon who she claimed speaks English.” He glanced at Shupster lightly.
“What!?” protested Shupster. “Do I look like I speak f***in English!? Oh ****, wait – ”
Norman flipped open his cell phone. “I’m calling the police.”
“What? Wait, no… RUN, BUTCH, RUN! AGGGH!” screamed Cassidy, sprinting for the door in panic. Butch ran closely behind but tripped over.
“RUN, RETARD, RUN!!!” Cassidy continued screeching. As we pulled out the door frantically, Butch slammed the door square into Norman’s face. Still in a panic trance, the two raced across the pavement, past a bend and soared into the darkness ahead of us, but not fast enough for me to acknowledge the name of the place from a road sign – Ilex Forest.
Half an hour later, we were hiding in a thickly forested section of Ilex. Suddenly, the PokeNav beeped monotonously.
Cassidy opened the PokeDex, and read: “Hey B and C. You got our money yet? James.”
She scowled and typed: “No, retard, not yet. Jennies are after us, so not now. Cassidy.”
A good ten seconds later, another message came in. “No surprise. Don’t feel like saying good luck. Jessie.”