Pokemon is Serious Business! - contains swearing lulz
|Stories Write a story to catch Pokemon. A Grader will then decide if it catches or not.
01-27-2008, 10:44 AM
Pokemon is Serious Business! - contains swearing lulz
Pokemon is Serious Business
Characters needed: 20-30k
Characters so far: 34, 640
Jane’s fingers tightened around her pink Nintendo DS as she saw the Pokemon that was up for trade in all of its pixely glory. The small sprite on the screen was sort of humanoid, standing upright. It had three fingers, each one tipped with a bulbous growth. It had two upright ears, and a long green tail.
“A shiny Mewtwo,” she whispered, in awe of the line of code’s awesomeness.
She looked at the person’s location, and subsequently memorised it. Melbourne, Australia. Flicking back to the screen that told her what the person wanted, her heart skipped a beat.
‘Only an Abra!’ Jane thought, quickly scanning her boxes for the elusive Pokemon.
Unfortunately, the only one she had was Spoons, who had max Individual Values in its Special Attack and Speed stats, and maxed out Effort Values in those same stats to boot. She looked desperately between the Mewtwo and Spoons, trying to decide which one she wanted.
Eventually, the girl gave up and pressed the ‘A’ button, initiating the trade. As she waited for the GTS to checking the status, Jane felt her heart thumping in her chest, and she found it harder to breathe normally. Eventually, the system got on with it, and she saw Spoons disappear, only to be replaced by the Mewtwo.
The girl quickly logged off the GTS, and took a look at the Mewtwo now in her party. Everything looked normal, until she saw the ID number.
Cursing loudly, the girl swore revenge upon the demon who gave her a hacked Pokemon in return for Spoons – her Spoons! Pushing her blue rimmed glasses up her nose, Jane swept her brunette hair from her face and sat down at the computer to do some serious hacking.
It took many hours, and by the end of it her bright green eyes were tired and sore, but Jane had managed to hack her router and find out what communications had taken place. From there, it was easy enough to hack into the hacker’s router, and into his computer through it.
Once inside, she searched for any documents that could tell her his whereabouts, and after finding his address (and leaving a few viruses for good measure), the girl, without asking her parents, booked a very expensive flight to Melbourne using her dad’s credit card. After checking what time the plane left, she swore. It just so happened to leave at three the very next morning!
“Well, I suppose I should do some packing…” she said to the air, not expecting an answer and hoping she didn’t get one.
After collecting a small pile of clothing, Jane heaped up all of the electronics in her room, shoving them into a suitcase. She looked at the clothes she had decided would fit in there with all of her gadgets; two t-shirts, a skirt and a pair of jeans.
“Eh, that should be enough for a few weeks,” she decided, looking at the clock on her wall. “Hey, it’s only twelve - I suppose I can spare another hour or so putting on some makeup…”
The brunette girl turned off her bedroom light as quietly as she could, and opened the door very slowly. Creeping through the pitch black hallway, Jane slowly made her way to the bathroom, treading softly so that she didn’t wake her parents or older sister. The young girl slunk into the bathroom quietly, and closed the door behind her.
“Argh, light!” she hissed, shielding her emerald green eyes from the blinding light as she flicked the light switch.
Looking at her reflection in the mirror, she decided that it was time for a complete makeover! Remembering countless books and television shows, Jane knew that if she were to take her glasses off, she’d look drop dead gorgeous. However, when she did take off her spectacles, she found that the universal rule to beauty was not completely realistic, as she looked a bit like a bug-eyed praying mantis.
Shrugging, the techno savvy girl opened her sister’s makeup drawer, and took out a bottle of mascara. It took about fifteen minutes to finish one eye – every thirty seconds or so, she either poked herself in the eye or smeared the mascara all over her face. After what seemed like years, she was done, and took a look in the mirror.
“Not bad,” she said to herself, completely ignoring the fact that she hadn’t bothered to wash the smeared makeup off, and as such looked rather like a panda with glasses.
Jane looked at her reflection in the mirror again, and decided that she wanted to put on some lip gloss. Digging through the drawer, she pulled out a bottle of what appeared to be pink lip gloss. After applying it to her lips, she looked in the mirror and frowned – was it supposed to be that vibrant? Taking a closer look at the bottle it was kept in, she mentally hit herself over the head with a hammer.
The bottle read: ‘Pink Liquid Eyeliner’.
Cursing, she quickly washed the eyeliner off her lips, and decided that she’d had enough to do with makeup for now. Trekking back to her room, Jane slipped her iPod into her pocked, grabbed her suitcase, and lugged it as quietly as she could out of the house, stumbling and knocking over a very expensive vase in the process.
Cringing, the self-proclaimed nerd snuck out of the house and ran up the driveway, oblivious to the amount of noise her suitcase was making as it scraped against the pavement. Trotting past the houses and onto a busy street, Jane scanned the road for any taxis. Luckily, she found one quite quickly, and hailed it.
Throwing her suitcase into the back, the brunette girl wrinkled her nose as she got into the back seat – it smelt strongly of tobacco, and was very musty.
“Where to?” asked the driver, his speech slightly slurred.
“Umm, just the airport, thanks,” Jane squeaked, intimidated by the shadowy figure in the front seat.
They drove in silence for about half an hour, until the taxi stopped.
Jane gave a mental gasp. ‘Oh no… I haven’t got any money to pay him!’
“Um,” she said aloud. “I’ll pay you after I get my suitcase out the boot…”
Opening the back of the taxi, she pulled out her heavy suitcase, and ran inside. She heard the driver yelling for her to stop, but she payed him no heed. Disappearing into the crowd, the girl gave a sigh of relief, and went to go get her tickets.
“Um, hi,” she said to the person at the counter. “I bought my tickets online. The name’s Jane Austin.”
The woman’s brown eyes flicked across her computer screen, and she nodded. “Yes, I believe you bought ticket to Melbourne, Australia. Correct?”
Jane nodded, and the lady handed her the tickets with a smile. “Have fun then,” she said.
Scurrying off, Jane dumped her luggage on the rack, and went to wait for her flight. Pulling her iPod out of her pocket, the girl listened to her favourite song, singing a little too loudly along with it.
“Hey there Mr. Happy Squid, you move so psychedelically, hypnotize with your magic dance, all the animals in the sea!” she chirped, moving her head rhythmically, oblivious to the odd stares she was gathering.
“Umm… miss, people are looking at you funny…” said an obviously uncomfortable passer-by, warning Jane of how batty she looked.
The girl nodded; the music too loud for her to hear the woman anyway. As soon as the lady walked away, she resumed singing, albeit to a different (and more inappropriate) song. A few mothers covered their children’s ears, but that didn’t matter.
“Airbus one billion to Melbourne is taking off now, so get on it if you don’t want to be left behind!” boomed a rather maniacal voice over the loudspeaker, so loud that it got through Jane’s music.
‘One billion?’ thought a passing man. ‘That number’s a little steep, don’t you think? And is that one billion flights, or one billion planes?’
He fell into a plothole and was never seen again.
Jane, ignorant of the commotion caused by the disappearing man on the other side of the airport, and made her way towards the gate. Upon reaching the back of a long line, the girl shoved through the crowd to get to the front.
“Uh… can we get onto the plane, now?” she asked the man who presumably worked at the airport.
“Knock yourself out,” he said, giving her a rather disturbing smile.
Upon getting on the plane, Jane sat down next to a window, and stretched her legs out on the seat next to her. Anyone who tried to sit down next to her had a death glare sent their way, and backed off. Soon, everyone was seated, and the plane took off.
Jane felt herself get pushed back against the seat, and felt as if she was being pulled into the chair itself. This sparked some very interesting ideas, and she began to imagine what it would be like to be a chair. After realising that the only thing being a chair involves is being sat on by people of varying weight, the idea was quickly dismissed.
Looking out the window, the techno-savvy 14-year-old saw the ground being left far behind her, and buildings looked somewhat like little squares on a big mass of green and grey.
As the plane levelled out, the brunette girl pulled out the iPod that she’d managed to smuggle aboard. Staring out the window, she discreetly plugged the small white earphones into her ears and stared out the window vacantly as her brain was blasted with rock music.
Unfortunately, the iPod (that or the mobile phone in her pocket) must have messed with the plane, as it started shuddering not a moment later. Outside the window, a swirling vortex opened up and began to drag the plane towards it.
It wasn’t long before everyone noticed that the plane was being sucked towards a gaping hole, and started to panic. Soon, the aircraft was sucked inside, and started travelling through it incredibly quickly.
“Wow…” murmured Jane. “The inside of a plothole!”
And the inside of a plothole it was! It looked somewhat akin to a black hole, although more psychedelic. The vortex was a navy blue, and there were particles of light blue and pink flying around. There were also words, whole sentences, presumably from stories that were riddled with plotholes. Reading a few of them, the girl giggled – there were some words that were spelled in very interesting ways, and the grammar was atrocious.
As they came out of the hole, the plane fell a few feet to the ground and skidded to a halt. In the stunned silence, they heard profanities coming from the front of the plane.
“Oh crap, I didn’t get time to put my landing gear out! They’re gonna kill me!”
Snickering, Jane left the plane, assuming they’d call all of the passengers back when it was time to come back. Seeing the sign on the airport, she had an involuntary spasm.
The sign read; ‘Cardiff Airport’.
Grumbling under her breath, the very annoyed girl trudged away to go wait, and perhaps get some food. Unfortunately, there was no food in the airport, so she sat down on a bench to wait.
Last edited by Emily; 04-30-2008 at 12:41 PM.
02-25-2008, 10:14 AM
Re: Pokemon is Serious Business!
“Is this seat taken?”
Jane looked up to see a boy of about her age. He was heavily muscled, and looked like he could take on a bulldozer, no sweat.
He frowned. “I don’t think it is.”
Jane hesitated, her face going pink as she tried not to giggle at the Welsh accent he sported. She pulled her iPod out of her pocket and dropped it on the seat that he was trying to sit in.
“Yes it is.”
He picked up the mp3 player and sat down in the chair. “The name’s Ceilo. Nice to meet you.”
The girl snorted. “What kinda name is Ceilo?”
He scowled. “It’s the male Welsh name for love.”
She couldn’t help it. Jane tossed her mouse brown hair as she doubled over, laughing heartily at this poor guy’s name. When she finished, she grinned widely at him, green eyes sparkling with mirth.
“Hahaha, sorry about that. My name’s Jane,” she explained.
Pulling a ribbon from her pocket, she tied her short hair up into a ponytail and gazed at her new friend in a rather disconcerting manner.
“Is there something wrong?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Nah, I just like looking at you.”
Ceilo hesitated – to call this girl strange would be the biggest understatement of the year.
“Erm… thanks?” he asked, uncertain whether it was a compliment or an insult.
Jane shrugged, and they fell into an uncomfortable silence. After sitting there for a moment, Ceilo pulled a Nintendo DS from his pocket, and loaded up the game.
“You play Pokemon?” Jane asked.
The Welshman nodded. “Yeah. I’m just gonna check the GTS for now. I put up a killer Mareep for a Mewtwo, so I hope I get one.”
“Oh, be careful!” the girl warned. “I got a hacked Mewtwo for my best Pokemon.”
She peered over Ceilo’s shoulder as the GTS checked its status. Eventually, the trade screen initiated, and she felt her heart begin to thump in her chest as the red and white spheres flew through the system. Then, a shiny Mewtwo appeared, along with the words;
‘Hahaha, my virus has taken a hold of your game. Good luck getting it back, sucker!’
Jane whistled. “That’s one hell of a virus you got there. The Wi-Fi they’ve got here must be way insecure. Hmm, let’s check out that there Mewtwo… I think I might know who sent it.”
Ceilo, despite his trembling lip, did as he was told, and brought up the status screen. Everything looked normal (save for the ID number, which was 00000), but then Jane noticed something.
“Hey…” she murmured. “That’s the same trainer name as the guy who scammed me! I know where he lives, and I’m flying to Australia to get my Abra back.”
The Welshman looked at her in astonishment, his blue eyes wide with wonder. “Are you saying that you take the game so seriously that you’ll fly across the globe to get a piece of code back?”
“I don’t see why not,” she said with a shrug. “Err – your DS is on fire, by the way. That’s really one powerful virus.”
As Ceilo freaked out and attempted to put out the small fire on his gaming system, Jane got a bright idea. Putting her hands on her hips, the slightly eccentric girl exclaimed;
“It’s settled! You will come with me! We must get on the plane at once!”
Succeeding in putting out the small blaze, the Welshman raised an eyebrow. “Won’t people want to know why I don’t have a ticket?”
Jane, impervious to logic, dismissed him with a wave. “We’ll say you’re my imaginary friend. Nobody’ll ask about it.”
And, remarkably enough, nobody did. Perhaps they were all incredibly dumb, or perhaps he was a walking plothole, but Ceilo was allowed on the plane without any questions asked about it. As he relaxed with Jane (who had remembered to turn all electronics off this time around), they exchanged small details, like ages (it turned out Ceilo was only sixteen, despite his height and physique), and the square root of fifty-six (it’s seven).
The more they talked, the more they began to like each other, and Jane soon found herself thinking about Ceilo when she wasn’t talking to him – his cute accent, his adorable blonde hair, and those heavenly muscles! It took a few hours to get through to her, but she was quickly developing a crush on this boy that she’d met less than a day ago.
The Welshman, on the other hand, tried to think about Jane’s physique as little as possible. She was short, a little on the chubby side, and most assuredly did not have curves in all of the right places. However, the girl had a glowing personality, one which completely blew away the fact that she wasn’t the most attractive girl in the world, or that maybe she didn’t have the right body to be a model. And after a short while, he found himself feeling feelings he’d never felt before.
“So, do you do any work or anything?” asked Jane.
Ceilo shrugged. “I do part time at a McDonalds, if that counts.”
The girl snickered. “So you flip burgers, eh? What’s it like?”
“Eh, it’s alright. For some reason, girls always tell me to keep the change,” he said.
She smiled and rolled her eyes ever so slightly. “Gee, I wonder why!”
They both smiled, and fell into an uncomfortable silence. After a few minutes of looking at the sky and the clouds, Jane turned back to Ceilo and got a bit of a shock.
“Why were you staring at me?” she asked nervously.
“I wasn’t,” he said a little too quickly.
The girl raised a rather bushy eyebrow. “Yes you were. Tell me why!”
“Because I love you…” he whispered, hoping she didn’t hear.
Jane blinked. “What?”
“I said because you’re so ugly,” Ceilo said louder, a cheeky smile playing at his lips.
The girl looked hurt, and looked up at him, the shimmering tears budding in her eyes threatening to spill.
‘Now you’ve gone and done it, smart one!’ snorted Ceilo’s conscience.
“I’m sorry, that was uncalled for,” said the blonde Welshman, giving Jane a smile that said ‘I’m really sorry’.
“Do you really mean it, though?” she whimpered pathetically.
“No, of course not!” Ceilo smiled, placing a large hand on his friend’s head.
She brightened up immediately, and wrapped her arms around his waist with a happy squeak. Rather taken aback but not unhappy with the situation, the Welshman wrapped his arms around the girl and pulled her closer – taken care not to crush her with his raw strength.
After a moment, Jane looked up and asked him a question. “Okay, so what did you really say?”
The teen bit his lip, hoping what he had to say would go over well with the younger girl. “I said I love you…” he whispered, so that only she could hear.
She remained silent for a few moments, and then gave a warm smile. “You know what? I love you too.”
04-30-2008, 10:10 AM
Re: Pokemon is Serious Business!
The roaring jet engines deafened anyone who had the misfortune to be outside without earmuffs as the plane started to touch down in the Melbourne Airport. The passengers all fastened their seatbelts for the descent, and Jane felt that familiar feeling of becoming a chair as she was once again pulled against the old and worn seat. They were all bumped around a little as the aircraft came in for a rough landing, and if you had been listening, you’d hear a soft swear word come from Ceilo as his head hit against the overhead carriers.
“I think it’d be best to wear your seatbelt, dear…” Jane murmured, wondering how come nobody told the Welshman to buckle up. However, she quickly dismissed these thoughts from her mind – it might create another plothole.
“I noticed,” Ceilo grumbled, rubbing the sore spot on his head.
As they got up and stretched, a thought popped into the older teenager’s mind.
“Hey Jane, how come nothing bad ever happens to you?” he asked.
She grinned. “I guess I’m just perfect like tha-- augh!”
“Okay, I take it back…” Ceilo muttered as the brunette tripped down the stairs to the ground.
“I’m okay!” she called, her face turning bright red in embarrassment.
Her friend came down after her, and together they admired the large building in front of them, both slightly nauseous from the fumes that the plane emitted.
“Why are we looking at the airport?” Jane asked, looking up at Ceilo.
“No idea,” he said, “Now let’s go.
They walked in peaceful silence, only half aware of the hustle and bustle around them, oblivious to the agitated people whose paths they were obstructing.
“Umm, hello?! Could you move?!” asked one of the more impatient.
Jane gazed at him in a lazy fashion. He had kind of curly dark brown hair which reached the back of his neck, and was glaring needles at the two of them from his squinty little brown eyes. He was about a head taller than the girl, and a little shorter than her Welsh companion. While very thin, he looked relatively strong, and with his abnormally large hands curled into fists and aiming at her face, Jane decided that he was in fact rather frightening.
“Uh… hi?” she said sheepishly, shrinking back a little.
Ceilo stepped forward. “If you hurt her, I’ll break every bone in your body, prison be damned!”
The boy looked torn between backing off and laughing uproariously at the Welshman’s accent. He eventually decided that the latter would be a very bad idea, and lowered his fists.
“What? Why are you staring at me?!” he asked defensively, a little unsettled that Jane was staring at him in the manner that she was.
She muttered something to her muscle-bound friend, and then everything went dark.
“Let me get this straight. You kidnapped me to help you get your Pokemon back?”
Jane nodded. “Correct. What about it?”
“I have friends and family!” the boy hollered, waving his arms around like a drunken octopus.
“Not anymore, buddy!” the girl grinned, showing off rather impressive fangs.
“Eew…” he muttered, “You’re a vampire?”
The green-eyed girl snorted. “No, I just have very sharp canines. Anyway, I’m Jane, this is Ceilo, and who are you?”
“Why should I tell you?” he asked, turning up his nose in a pompous fashion.
Ceilo raised a fist. “Do you want to sleep with your teeth inside your mouth, or out?!”
“Eh… call me David.”
“And how old are you, ‘David’?” the blonde Welshman asked, not putting down his fist.
“I’m thirteen years old, why?” he replied.
“Enough questions!” Jane said loudly, “Now, we must plot! David, you know your way around Melbourne, right?”
He started to shake his head, and then caught sight of Ceilo’s stern frown. “No- I mean yes, very well.”
The girl nodded with a smile. “Excellent. Now, this is where his house is, and this is where we are now.”
She held up a map and pointed to their respective areas.
“David, when we get there, you can do the talking.”
He frowned. “Why do I have to do all the talking?!”
“You have the right accent – we’d draw attention to ourselves. Anyway, once we get there, you explain our situation, and then if he doesn’t comply with out demands, Ceilo punches him out.”
Ceilo nodded, while David simply dropped his face into his open hands.
“Facepalm,” Jane grinned.
“That’s the stupid idea ever! You’re going to get us killed!” he moaned.
The girl let out some kind of cross hybrid between a giggle and a snort. “Oh, nonsense! We’ll be just fine.”
He didn’t reply, and simply clasped his hands together, uttering a quick prayer to the powers that be. Looking around, the boy decided that there was nothing better to do than simply sleep everything away, and maybe when he woke up rocks would have fallen and everyone would have died. David lay down, oblivious to the sharp stones on the dusty ground digging into his skull, and the hubbub around him as some rocks fell from the ceiling, almost crushing the occupants of the cave.
He was in a living room of sorts, sitting on impossibly soft cushions and watching a roaring fire. This was quite an interesting fire, too. It crackled in the oddest of ways, almost like words. Almost like insults.
“You’re a loser, David!” it crackled.
He attempted to glare at it, but in reality just squinted. “Come up here and say that.”
Okay, now he’d lost it. He was arguing with a burning log, and it was responding. It flew out of the fire place, and hovered a few inches in front of his face. He felt a bead of sweat trickle down his neck, the heat of the fire searing his skin.
“You’re a loser, David.” It seemed to chuckle, letting little pieces of charred and still very hot wood drop onto the boy’s lap and set his pants aflame.
“Yeah, well… I bet your name is Woody, and not because you’re made of wood!” he countered lamely, patting out the burning cotton of his trousers.
The log hesitated. “What?”
“I’m sorry,” David said venomously. “I was implying that you have erectile dysfunction!”
“No, idiot. Erectile dysfunction is when you can’t keep it up, not when you have too many,” the burning log spat.
David scratched his head in confusion. Maybe he had head lice. “I don’t get it.”
If a log could facepalm, this one certainly did. “Maybe you need to wake up.”
He sat up suddenly, sweating and shaking. It took him a moment for him he was relatively safe, in the darkness of his cave. Come to think of it, a cave really isn’t the best place to spend the night. There could be man-eating were-bats or something. He shuddered at the thought of waking up in the middle of the night with a giant furry thing on his face, eating his brains.
It was too dark to see, so he felt around in the gloom for something familiar. The thing he touched was fleshy and soft, like a stomach. He was sure it wasn’t Ceilo’s, because he had washboard abs. No, it had to be Jane. Just to ‘make sure’, he moved his hand up towards her chest. Yup, definitely Jane. Soothed by the familiar presence, he dropped back to sleep, this time not having dreams about talking fires. However, they did have a flying penguin and a giraffe that lived in a hole, so nothing can be said about that.
The next time he woke up, there was a real racket going on. Groaning, he yelled profanities at the top of his voice, hoping to make the noise stop. Opening an eye, he found the source. Jane was smacking pots and pans together right in front of his face. When she saw he was awake, she lowered them, and grinned a fanged grin.
“Wake up, sleepyhead, it’s two in the afternoon!” she exclaimed, stroking his curls in the way one would to a dog.
A scowl crossed his face, but he clambered to his feet with a little difficulty. After stretching out his stiff and sore limbs, he felt his stomach growl painfully.
“Urgh, what’s for food?” he asked, not entirely sure if he should be asking for breakfast or lunch.
“Nothing,” Jane replied. “You don’t get to eat.”
He pouted, but didn’t argue. “So,” he said, “When are we going to get this show on the road, eh?”
Ceilo spoke up from the corner, where he was throwing rocks at the stony cave wall. “I suppose we should get going now, to avoid peak hour at five. Anyway, if this hacker’s an ordinary nerd, he’ll live in his mother’s basement and play World of Warcraft all day. So after we get past the mother, we know he’ll be home.”
“That’s surprisingly logical thinking, Ceilo,” the girl in the group remarked.
After some more idle banter, they all stood up and left for the train station. David bought them some tickets, and they hopped onto the train and rode into the city. Staring out the window, the curly-haired boy tried to disassociate himself from the foreigners, who were pointing at random things and exclaiming loudly at the ‘wonders’ of Australia.
“Oh look! There’s a builder in a port-a-loo, and the door’s wide open! Oh, the wonders of this country!”
“Wow! There’s a dead kangaroo next to the tracks!”
“Hey, look at that bogan sitting across from us! That’s one impressive mullet!”
David cringed at the stage whisper, and tried to be as inconspicuous as possible as the impossibly bogany bogan marched towards them, his tattered jeans flapping over his flip-flops and a deep scowl etched in his grubby, unshaven face.
“Hey, mate!” he snarled, cheap beer on his breath. “You ratbags knocking my hot mullet?!”
“No,” Jane said airily. “I was merely impressed by its… uh, volume.”
“Yeah, it is a beaut, aint it?” he smirked.
The girl nodded, and the bogan strolled back to his seat, his gargantuan ego well stroked. David stole a glance at him, and he fought to stop a smirk from spreading across his face – the unfashionable man had a compact mirror and was admiring his mullet in it.
As the train slowed to a stop, the ‘three stooges’, as they could (accurately) be referred to as got up and stepped out into the city. David was used to the pollution, but Jane and Ceilo had a huge coughing fit, which amused the Australian to no end. They soon caught a tram, and were headed towards their hacker’s house. David made sure to give his two kidnappers explicit instructions not to point at anything, and especially not marvel at any of the wonders of the smoggy city.
As their rickety old transportation halted, breaks squealing, all three of them began to feel giant moths hatch in their bellies and flutter around, ramming themselves against the walls and rupturing their stomachs.
Er, metaphorically, of course.
They stopped in front of an apartment complex, and Jane scrutinised her map.
“Yup, this is the place. He lives on the fourth floor.” She looked at the long set of stairs, and sighed. “Well, let’s go.”
David gripped the handrail loosely, his long, spindly fingers sliding over the chipped black paint and meeting little resistance. After about thirty seconds of climbing the rough cement steps, he noticed Jane beginning to pant, and nudged Ceilo with his elbow. The Welshman picked up his girlfriend, and proceeded to carry her the rest of the way. When they reached the top, the American girl explained to the curly-haired young lad that he was going to divert the mother while she and Ceilo would get their Pokemon back. After having a little pout, he agreed to do their wishes, and gave them a moment to hide before knocking on the door.
“What are you here for?” A little old lady opened the door, and peered at him with squinty, bespectacled eyes. When he stared at her blankly, she smoothed the creases in her blue, flower-patterned dress and repeated the phrase.
“Uhm, hi, I’m David from…” He looked around for an excuse to be there. “Uh, flowery dress surveys. Could I come in and ask you a few questions about flowery dresses?”
“Certainly,” the little old lady said, opening the door wider and turning to show him into the living room.
While her back was turned, the other two snuck in and hid in a cabinet. She turned back to David.
“Oh, right!” he said, appearing to have been in a trance.
He followed her inside, and Jane and Ceilo in the cupboard made out a few questions that he asked the lady while they left the room.
“Do you enjoy flowery dresses? Do you feel cool while wearing them? Do you feel sexy? How would you feel about a low-cut flowery dress?”
He asked all of these questions in rapid succession, distressing the poor old woman and causing her to run her wrinkled old hands through her fine grey hair. He slowed down slightly, and talked in a loud enough voice to distract her from any movements that she might catch out of the corner of her eye as the others in the scandal searched for the basement.
“God bless him,” Ceilo breathed, wondering what they’d have done had they not kidnapped the young Australian lad. “A fine door-to-door salesman in the works.”
After a few more minutes of fumbling around, they found a door clearly marked ‘basement’.
“Why’s it so easy to find? Actually, why’d they write basement on the door in permanent marker?” the Welshman asked, forgetting about the ever-present danger of plotholes.
Unfortunately, that last comment had set one off, and the two were pulled into it in less than a second. When they came out of the swirling vortex (and having read Agony in Pink, Celebrian and legolas by laura – and that’s only some of them! – several times in only a few moments), they were expelled into a dark room that was lit only by the light of a television with an Xbox game on it, a computer screen, a PSP screen and a Nintendo DS screen. Looking around, they saw a morbidly obese figure hunched over the DS in the corner, making rather Darth Vader-like breathing sounds. I guess that’s what being morbidly obese does to you. Turns you into Darth Vader.
“Well, that was easy,” Jane remarked, dusting off her hands.
The figure turned to face them, making snuffling noises squinting at them through piggy little eyes. “Yes?” it asked, its cracked and throaty from disuse.
“Hi!” the girl said brightly. “I’m Jane, and this is my friend Ceilo. About a week ago, you took our Pokemon from the GTS in exchange for hacked Mewtwos, and we’d appreciate them back. My Pokemon was an Abra, spoons, and his was a nameless Mareep.”
The obese man let out a growling sound. “He can have the Mareep back, but not the Abra… that’s special, and legit to boot.”
He searched through his boxes and found Ceilo’s Mareep, quickly initiating a trade between the two trainers. Jane looked on with mild interest. After a moment, the man turned to look at her, his fat jiggling with every movement he made.
“You still here?” he slurred, running a pudgy hand through his receding hairline.
She nodded. “Yeah. I want Spoons back.”
He stood up. “Fight me. I challenge you, madam, to… fisticuffs!”
Glaring at him, she said in a low, venomous voice, “I’m putting on my moustache.”
She took a glasses case from her back pocket and opened it. From it, she extracted with loving care a piece of fur that was shaped like a moustache. From the case, she also extracted a roll of duct-tape and taped the fur in place. The obese man, too, did the same with his own impromptu moustache, while Ceilo watched with mild interest.
“Alright,” the man said, fixing his mo in place. “No jabbing below the waist, no kicking the opponent when they’re down. That good?”
He was the first to throw a punch. He jabbed with a flabby arm, missing Jane by more than a foot and leaving himself open to attacks. Jane stuck out with a tightly curled fist, hitting the rather short man right in the jaw, and causing him to reel back in shock. He quickly recovered, though, as his layers upon layers of blubber were enough to absorb the shock of the punch. He ran forward and shoved into the much smaller girl with his shoulder, knocking her backwards into a display case of collectable Dragon Ball Z action figures. She broke the glass and toppled inside, smashing shelves and breaking the dolls inside.
“No, my collectables!” the obese man cried, running over to the shelf and hurling the dazed and groaning brunette out of the way. He squinted at her in an attempted glare, and grabbed a packet of bleach from the wreckage.
“You’ve done it now,” he growled. “Now, I’m going to go… SUPER SAIYAN!”
He opened the bleach bottle and began pouring it on his head, attempting to bleach his hair blonde. Unfortunately for him, the only thing it did was burn his eyes, as he was doing it wrong. For one he was using toilet cleaner, and that really wasn’t how bleaching your hair worked at all.
Jane struggled to her feet, a dull ache starting to throb where she’d collided with things. She stood there for a moment as the man attempted to die his hair with Harpic White & Shine while she gathered her bearings, and then picked up a wooden Keyblade replica that he had leaning against the wall. Smacking him over the head with it, the girl pivoted on one foot, spinning to face the display case full of Pokemon memorabilia. Driving the wooden sword through the glass, she swept it through the mint condition action figures and smashed then up.
This angered her opponent, and he leapt at her, his moustache falling off in the process. He drove Jane into a wall, crushing her under his weight. She sunk her teeth into the rolls of fat, and attacked his weak point for massive damage. Roaring in pain, the man reared back, a look of constipated agony in his features. He struck out hit a fat palm, and Jane’s head hit the wall hard, knocking her unconscious.
Ceilo stood up, his eyes narrowing as he saw his girlfriend’s head dashed against a stone wall so carelessly and without any regard to her safety. Picking up the computer monitor, he tore the cords out, and lobbed it at the obese hacker. He hit him square on the noggin, knocking him out. Ceilo held his breath as the man’s eyelids fluttered, hoping that he wouldn’t wake up. If he did, there was no telling how his rage would be. If he didn’t, then he could get Spoons back for Jane…
Even though I'm sure it isn't needed, Pokelord's making me say that this story is ready for grading! :P
Last edited by Emily; 04-30-2008 at 10:20 AM.
05-06-2008, 09:04 AM
Elite Trainer (Level 1)
Join Date: Dec 2007
Re: Pokemon is Serious Business!
One of the most original and creative plots I’ve ever read. No lie. And, yes, that’s a compliment.
Although the story had a few strange happenings that I wasn’t that satisfied with (explain more later), the main plot was hilarious, cute and creative - the indignant girl named Jane who thinks Pokemon is ‘serious business’, and hacks her way to track down the obese man who stole her precious Abra for a hacked MewTwo. After meeting two boys named David and Ceilio, she eventually tracks him down - and challenges him to a fist-to-fist duel for her precious Abra back!
Very funny - possibly, although one of the first I’ve read, the funniest and most original comedy story I’ve ever had to grade.
Although, there are a few things I need to point out amongst this ‘greatness’. A few things that went along with the plotline didn’t seem to fit in, as though you were just adding them in in order to take up room for the hard-level Abra. Things such as the reference to Ceilio working at McDonalds, and the large piece of writing about Jane putting on her make-up were really not necessary, and went very off-topic.
Also, I still don’t quite understand the constant reference to plot-holes - I understand it’s supposed to be light humour, but.. Well, it just didn’t make sense. :S
It was fine, really. Nicely started, showing that the story took place in the ‘real world’, with Pokemon being on the Nintendo D.S. Described well enough with the ‘who, what, when, where and why’ basis, although, like I said, it definitely dragged on when you mentioned the bit about her make-over.
Nothing much to suggest or correct.
Good - actually, it’s great. Abra is a hard Pokemon, requiring 20 - 30 k - yes, yours is very much over. Good work. Just remember that making a long story will not guarantee the capture - quality > quantity, although it does help. ^^
All-round, it was actually quite good. I did spot a typo here and there (mostly words that are in the wrong place - such as ‘their’ and ‘there’, the likes), but overall I commend your grammar. And, I sure do love nitpicking at grammar. D:<
Although, one crucial thing I feel that I need to mention is that your language used in stories could be greatly improved, to make them all the more better. Take this for an example:
“A shiny Mewtwo,” she whispered, in awe of the line of code’s awesomeness.
Heh heh. Pretty much one of your first sentences, and yet, one of the prime examples. ‘Awesomeness’, although a popular slang word, is not an actual, literate word that is ideal for story writing. D:
Adjectives you use in casual speech and adjectives you use in story writing should be very much separate. Remember that, and you’ll be all set for future writing.
Other than that - you’re grammar is almost spotless! Nothing big enough to pick at, so well done. :O
Going along with the note in the grammar section about the language you used, in a lot of places I felt that your writing would slack off, and in others, your writing was very commendable.
Your most strongest point of description is most definitely people’s appearances. I loved how you described Jane from Ceilio’s point of view, as well as the ‘dreamy’ Welshman of Ceilio from Jane’s. Although your description of landscapes and objects (such as, say, the inside of the plane? :P) didn’t quite cut it in comparison. So, for description, I’m afraid you fell short for a hard level Pokemon. However, your description was thorough and thrown in with the character’s personalities, so this didn’t affect your grade that badly.
Firstly, nicely described. Lovely actions and descriptions of the obese man, I couldn’t help but laugh. I really did enjoy it.
However, as much as I liked it, it was way
too short for the story, and the Pokemon you were attempting to capture didn’t actually battle. Story writing rules state:
Lastly--> And Most Importantly
Every story will vary to some degrees but they all share one thing in common. THE POKEMON YOU WANT TO CATCH MUST BATTLE IN SOME WAY OR ANOTHER.
for that rule. So, because of that, I can’t pass your otherwise nice story.
Although your plot and grammar combined were enough to win you the Abra, the lack of the fighting Pokemon and shortness of the battle prevents me from enabling you to pass. So, Abra not captured.
If you want the little spoony Pokemon, I suggest completely re-doing the battle - or, adding on a D.S battle of sorts between the two characters. It will definitely get you the passing grade. ^^
Laptop died. Using phone.
05-06-2008, 10:10 AM
Re: Pokemon is Serious Business!
Gee, thanks for making me cry, Splishee! D=
I guess I must have missed the part of the rules that said that, lol. Anyway, I redid the battle, so I hope it's up to your standards now. ;]
ETA: Here it is because the message thing decided that my message was too long by like one character.
Ceilo stood up, his eyes narrowing as he saw his girlfriend’s head dashed against a stone wall so carelessly and without any regard to her safety. Picking up the Nintendo DS that had been left on the floor, he lobbed it straight at the fat man’s head. The screen flashed ominously, and there, in the middle of the room was Spoons. Jane chose this precise, rather conspicuous (perhaps there were shenanigans going on?) moment to wake up, and cried out in high-pitched glee.
“Spoony!” she squealed. “You’re real!”
A smooth, slightly mechanical voice emenated from the vaguely cat-like psychic type. “Captain Obvious called, he wants his cape back.”
She frowned. “There’s no need to be rude about it… use… oh, crap, you’re an Abra! Uh, Teleport?”
Spoons’ eyes glowed red for a moment, and it grinned before vanishing and reappearing in another place, quite like a rabid astrologer. When he was done with this wonderful, simile-full action, he happened to mention that he knew all of the TMs, as well.
“Thanks for telling me earlier, gaybo,” Jane muttered. “Uhm, try a Psychic?”
Spoons complied with the request, picking up the empty bottle of bleach and smacking the fat contender repeatedly over the head with it. This did nothing of interest, save for maybe killing a few of the already endangered brain cells. He swatted it away with a pudgy palm and struck the yellow and brown Pokemon from its position in the air.
“No, Spoons!” cried Jane, running over to her faithful pal. It gave her an ominous grin, showing off impractically sharp teeth, and rose up into the air once more.
It glared at its opponent and said in its odd-sounding voice, “Your bum smells like poo!”
The Torment attack worked very well, and the fat man attempted to strike Spoons from the air once more. However, his hand merely passed through the Abra, and it swished its custard-coloured tale in delight.
“It worked!” it cried in glee. “And that was his only ‘attack’!”
It was quickly silenced with a headbutt to the chest.
“I lied.” It struggled up from the piled of wreckage and looked to Jane for another order.
She bit her lip. “Try an Attract?”
After sending a look of disgust her way, Spoons complied, and sent a giant pink heart towards the elephantine man. He was immersed in pink goo, and after a moment found himself immensely attracted to that sexy Pokemon floating right there in the air. He wrapped his pudgy arms around it, and embraced it tightly.
“Rape!” the Abra cried. “Oh God, RAAAAPE!”
Jane winced – she hadn’t intended for that to happen at all. She looked for the discarded DS, and tossed it at the rape victim. He was sucked inside and a few boulders fell out of a plothole onto the fat man, crushing him instantly. The living people looked to the DS, where the screen was stuck on the blue screen of death. They held their breath, hoping Spoons wouldn’t be stuck in a glitch forever.
05-06-2008, 10:19 AM
Elite Trainer (Level 1)
Join Date: Dec 2007
Re: Pokemon is Serious Business!
One word: LOL.
Hilarious battle. I loved how you made the Abra come out of the screen into real life.. much better than my pretty lame suggestion about the D.S fighting. ^^; what can I say, this is your story, and it's still hilarious and very creative, and is carried on with that unique and entertaining battle.
Although I'm still curious as to why the Abra came out of the screen (although, the entire story is pretty crazy with the plotholes and such, so, it seems only fitting, although very unrealistic), this final addition with the battle-craving Abra is perfect for the icing on the cake.
So, as of now, your precious Spoons is captured! ^^; have fun with him. :O
Laptop died. Using phone.
05-06-2008, 10:28 AM
Re: Pokemon is Serious Business!
Thank you sir, for this gift of one Abra. I shall be trading it a.s.a.p.
06-03-2008, 12:47 PM
Re: Pokemon is Serious Business!
Pokemon is Serious Business
Going for: Chatot
Amount needed: 10-20k
Amount had: 22, 354
Jane held her breath and prayed for that damn blue screen to fade. But it didn’t. Her dear Spoons was lost in a glitch! She slumped to the ground, utterly defeated. Suddenly, a loud hum emanated from the PC in the corner, and the DS started to glow. It was consumed in light, which slowly trickled away towards the computer. The screen rippled as every bead of light hit it and was absorbed inside, and it looked strange and unreal. Soon, all of the beautiful, ethereal light was gone, and the DS was no longer there. The brunette let an animalistic growl escape from her throat, and crouched, ready to spring.
“Not my DS, you stupid lump of wires!” she hissed, leaping at the computer monitor in an attempt to smash the screen and recover her lost Nintendo product. What she didn’t expect was to go through it.
As her outstretched hand touched the glass of the screen, the monitor rippled, and the limb slipped through it like a hot knife through butter. She let out a cry of shock, and Ceilo leapt to his feet. He made a grab for the girl, but she slipped through his grasp and in only a moment was through the threshold between cyberspace and reality.
“Damn.” The Welshman turned away with a grunt, and decided to keep guard – they wouldn’t want that fat monster unconscious on the floor to wake up, would they?
Jane found herself in oddly familiar surroundings, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on the familiarities. She was on a grassy hill, with a beautiful blue sky overhead. Fluffy white clouds floated above her head, looking like giant cotton balls floating in an ocean of aquamarine. A wastebasket sat in the grass, looking rather out of place in the beautiful scenery. Wait a moment…
There were a fair few things that were out of place in here.
She barely managed to duck out of the way as a disk with a two blue beamed quavers imprinted on it came flying at her head, which she quickly identified at the iTunes shortcut. A green diamond appeared too, almost skewering her on the point as it flew past, speaking gobbledygook as it did so.
“Augh!” Why were they attacking her? What had she done? As a wall of fire rose up in front of her, it then hit her like a brick flying at her face at three hundred miles per hour.
“I’m a virus?”
Well, it made sense. What other reason would these desktop icons have for attacking her so violently? As she ducked out of the way of a chubby green figure hurling itself at her, she began to feel the searing heat of the huge flaming wall got ever closer. It began to fall, and the girl only just managed to roll out of the way in time to avoid being burned to a crisp. She got up and ran – she knew the desktop was endless, and she’d have to die in the end, but by God, she’d prolong the inevitable for as long as she could. She twirled and rolled and ducked and swerved, but the icons seemed endless, and the firewall was gaining. Her lungs burned with every breath, her legs felt like lead, but still she ran.
“I need to get in shape!” she gasped to herself. Every rasping breath she took was a little bit harder, a little more painful.
It was then that she hit the wall – not the burning wall of death behind her, but the mental one. She collapsed onto the ground, not being able to muster up the will to just get up and keep going. She heard the crackle of the searing flames coming ever closer, and felt a few icons pelt themselves against her. It all seemed to distant, like it was happening to someone else, and she was just a mildly interested viewer, reclining in her chair with a glass of coke and a hamburger.
She dug her fingers into the hard earth underneath her, and it stuck under her fingernails. Any other time she would have been annoyed, and tried to dig it out immediately, but not now. What was the point? She was about to be vaporised, so what did it matter? The flames drew ever closer, and she could just imagine them licking at her heels, burning her flesh. She shook the thought out of her mind and concentrated on the finer aspects of life – love, friendship, family bonds. She thought of her family, and felt a pang of guilt about what had happened. After all, she had stolen her father’s credit card to buy a plane ticket to Australia, and that got her to Ceilo, her beloved. Of course, it all meant nothing, now that she was going to die, to be eradicated like common spyware.
Four white paws fell into her vision, and she heard a soft growl, before the sound of fire clashing against fire. Peeking out from behind splayed fingers, she witnessed an amazing sight. Standing in front of her was a creature of vulpine origins, with fluffy orange fur that turned a sunny yellow near the tail. It had ‘socks’, or short white fur on its little paws, and looked like no fox Jane had ever seen before. The most distinguishing thing about this creature, though, was what was coming out of its rear end.
This fox was shooting fire.
Out of its bum.
It grinned a toothy grin at her, and winked.
“Don’t look so shocked,” it said. “Where did you expect it to come out of?”
“You… you can talk?” the girl asked, overwhelmed.
The vulpine nodded. “Of course. I’m a browser, aren’t I? We talk to you. For example, when we think that the pictures you’re looking up are a little too off-colour, we won’t display the page. It’s out way of telling you you’re doing it wrong.”
Jane clutched her head, bemused. “So… you’re Firefox?”
It expelled a last tongue of flame with a ‘brrt’, and the firewall was no more. The other icons went back to their daily business, blissfully unaware of the fact that they had just attempted homicide on a young girl.
“So Firefox, why did you protect me?” Jane asked.
It shrugged. “Well, the user of this computer uses Internet Explorer. I want revenge on his for this blasphemy, so I did the best thing possible, and protected the ‘virus’. I mean, why not?”
The brunette understood the logic, and shrugged with the internet browser. “So, what do I do?”
“I’ll tell you what. I’ll get you into the internet, but then you’re on your own, to find your own way out,” Firefox said. Jane nodded mutely, as the vulpine continued. “Now, hop into this big wooden horse and I’ll upload you.”
The girl scrambled into the Trojan, and felt the space around her warp. She tried to cry out in fear, but all that came out of her mouth was a sound that sounded suspiciously like a chainsaw. She decided to be quiet after that. The annoying screech of a dialup connection filled her ears, and she growled quietly.
“Mrrrm, mrrrrrrrrrm,” she grumbled, her voice still not reverting.
As her horrible chainsaw onomatopoeia subsided and her voice returned to normal, she climbed out of the virus, and found herself in cyberspace. It really wasn’t what she’d expected. She saw a banner on the wall marked ‘Google’, and there was a stool and a table in the middle of the wood. There was a megaphone lying on the table, with a not next to it. The note read; ‘Google Searcho the girl assumed that this was Google. But how should she get from place to place? Picking up the megaphone and sitting down, she got an idea.
“Umm… /b/?” The megaphone didn’t change her voice's loudness at all, but all of a sudden she was sitting somewhere else. And she was a tuxedo. Looking down at her cuffs, she suddenly felt very awkward.
Looking around (as much as a tuxedo can look around, anyway), she saw all sorts of tables, with similar tuxedos gathered around them. Hearing laughter, she tottered over to see what was going on. People (formal wear?) were sharing amusing pictures, and talking to each other through the use of their megaphones only. With a thought, she went back to her table, and sat down.
“Er, Femanon here, I’m trapped in cyberspace. Halp?” In mere moments, a few Anonymous had gathered.
“Kill yourself,” one said.
“Tits or gtfo,” another added.
The girl (tuxedo?) scowled (as much as she could, anyway). “Yup, typical /b/.” She made sure not to use the megaphone this time.
After a little while, and nothing helpful, she left to see if she could have a little fun while she was here, and maybe find her lost Nintendo DS at the same time. She explored a little, before deciding it was time to leave the board and find somewhere else to go. She soon found a Failboat that would let her get to her next destination. Stepping aboard, Jane felt everything ripple, and looked around in wonder as websites rushed all around her, blurring reality. She felt her body grow back and did a retarded little dance for joy – she wasn’t a tuxedo anymore. After a few moments, the Failboat pulled up to a dock, and promptly sank. Luckily, the water was shallow, so the chubby girl managed to wade to land.
“Ah, AIM.” She smiled fondly at the banner on that wall.
Looking around, she decided to sign in. Picking up her megaphone, she said her name and password, and found herself somewhere else. She was now in a long hallway, with doors every few feet or so. Inspecting one, she found the screen name of one of her friends. Taking a stroll down the corridor, she found a door marked ‘New IM’. Opening up the door, she found herself in a comfy little room, with a coffee table and two lounge chairs. The room was warm, and gave her a feeling of well-being. Taking a seat, she spoke into the megaphone.
“Um… I know it doesn’t work like this, but can someone please help me?!”
It only took a moment, before a girl who looked about her age was sitting in front of her. Her messy, light brown hair was left long, falling to the middle of her back, and in obvious need of a brush. She was a little taller than the clinically short Jane, moving from super-midget to just midget. Her hygiene was sub-par – she probably hadn’t had a shower in days. She wore a ratty old dressing gown, and was still in her pyjamas. She scrutinized Jane through brown eyes, and raised her bushy monobrow.
“So you’re the one I made…” she muttered, her manly voice a few octaves lower than it should have been for a girl.
Jane blinked. “Excuse me?”
“I created you. Damn, you’re fatter than I wanted you to be. Whatever.”
The girl was taken aback by this rude – er, charming young lady. Her mouth opened in a horrified ‘o’, and she failed to construct a sentence other than babbling.
“Oh, right.” The other girl examined her nails. “I’m Emily, but a lot of people call me Cune. I’m a writer on a forum, it’s pretty neat. Also, you’re my creation.”
Jane sat back in her chair, raising an eyebrow, not believing a word this crazy lady said. “Sure, whatever.”
“Excellent! Now, let’s go to that forum. Perhaps we’ll find someone to help you.” She picked up her megaphone and grabbed Jane’s wrist. “Pokemon Elite two thousand.”
In a moment, they were whisked away to a new place. This place was a little different from /b/. There were buildings everywhere, with banners on the front of them.
“Come with me,” said Emily, smiling a little.
She led Jane into a building with Other: Chat written on the side of it. When they got inside, the girl recognised this as the same setup that /b/ had. Except that this time, nobody was a tuxedo. Emily grinned, and headed straight for a table with a little sign on it: ‘What do YOU look like? o_O;’. She stood on top of it, and stuck a ‘sexy’ pose.
“Look at me! Please tell me I’m pretty!” she cooed, batting her eyelashes.
The table was suddenly very deserted. She seemed not to notice, and stepped down. Without another word, she flitted from table to table, being an offensive bitch all the while. After a few minutes, most people looked as if they wanted to hurt her. Luckily, she clued in on it after a while, and led Jane away once again.
“D’you want to see my little house?” she asked, her eyes glinting with insanity.
Afraid of the consequences if she said no, the digitalised girl nodded mutely and followed along behind her new, kind of scary friend. They walked to the outskirts of the forum, and found a few houses set up.
“Why are there houses?” Jane asked, confused.
The girl with the single eyebrow shrugged. “They were just here one day. I think they might be the URPG Stats. Mine has a stereo!”
She grabbed a key, and unlocked the door to a quaint little cottage. Opening it, Jane realised that it was a lot bigger on the inside than the outside. What had looked to be a small, one room little house was really a huge, two-storied mansion. It was fitted out with fashionable furniture, a few televisions, and was suspiciously clean for something that Emily owned.
“I don’t use it much,” she explained. “You can sit down and watch some telly – I dunno if they’d have anything good on, though.”
Jane turned it on, and found out that Emily was right. As she flipped the channels, the best thing that she found was Fear Factor.
“Eew… these shows are getting worse and worse…” she muttered, watching as someone stuck a fork in a power point and was fried until they looked somewhat akin to beef jerky.
Emily lay down on the floor, obviously very bored. She rolled around a little, crashed into the wall, and decided not to try that again. They heard noises outside, cries of outrage. Both of them leapt up and peered out the window. Someone was heading right for then, chased by an angry mob, and laughing loudly.
“Oh lord, not again,” the unhygienic girl breathed, rolling her eyes.
As the person got closer, Emily opened the door for a brief moment, letting him tumble inside, before shutting it again on the angry mob and drawing the curtains.
“For God’s sake, Pika!” she cried, her hands on her hips.
He grinned. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist.”
The girl rolled her eyes and gave him a weak smile. “I’ll never understand you. Oh, and this is Jane… I wrote the silly thing.”
The strange man offered his hand to shake, and huffed when the girl shrunk back. “Pfft, just because I’m Mexican.”
“No, I didn’t mean it like that!” Jane cried, a look of horror on her face. “I’m just a little overwhelmed is all!”
He winked. “Sarcasm.”
There was pounding on the door. Emily peeped through the curtains, and then looked back at 'Pika'.
“It’s the mob,” she whispered.
He smiled wryly. “Nothing gets past you.”
The greasy teen rolled her eyes, and hid him cleverly in the frontloading washing machine.
“He’s not here!” she called, the insistent knocking on the door really starting to irk her.
She threw open the door, and the angry mob rushed in, carrying torches. They proceeded to look around the house – throwing the greatly contrasting, fluffy pink pillows off the neon orange couch, tipping over the blender, things like that. By the time they were done, things were strewn about on the floor, and it looked like a pigsty. The mob left, grumbling, to find him elsewhere.
“Ugh…” Pikajew groaned, shaking himself out.
Jane furrowed her brow. “Excuse me sir, but why were they chasing you?”
“Well, I’m a troll, y’see.” He grinned at her. “It’s pretty much my job to make people feel uncomfortable, enraged. You know. Call me Pikajew, by the way.”
She nodded, her moss-green eyes bright with understanding.
“And how do you know Emily?” the girl asked, motioning to the other girl, who was slouched on the couch.
Pikajew smiled fondly at his friend. “Ah, me and her go a long way back. The first time I ever trolled here – it must have been mid last-year – she really didn’t like what I was doing. We had a little flame war, and then the other guy I was trolling with and I got banned. I made an alt, and she asked me for my email address. We’ve been close ever since.” He put an arm around Emily, who planted a sloppy kiss (if you could even call it that - it was more like a lick) on his chin in response. “Makes sense, no?”
Jane turned away – they were silly, ugly people aren’t supposed to show affection! It was then that she spied something pink… something pink and shiny! Pouncing on it, she almost leapt for joy. It was her DS!
“Hey, I found it!” she cried, holding it up like some kind of retarded trophy.
Emily clapped slowly. “Very good. Now, can you figure out how to get home?”
The brunette turned her eyes on Pikajew. “You! You can help me, can’t you?”
“Yup, I can. But you have to say the magic word!” He grinned – this was going to be fun.
“Okay,” Jane said peaceably. “Please?”
His jaw dropped and hit the floor with a clatter. Reaffixing it to his face, he frowned. “Damn, you’re good. Now, what we have to do is open a plothole. If you jump through it, you will inevitably end up un-digitalised, through means which make absolutely no sense.”
And it was for the next few minutes that they used tried and true methods to try to force a plothole.
“Did you notice that the mob must have seen Pikajew come in? Why didn’t they try everywhere?” Emily said. A small vortex opened in the living room.
“How did I fit in a washing machine?” Pikajew added. The vortex grew a little larger, almost the size it needed to be.
Jane thought hard, and then realised that she’d found a plothole you could drive a truck through. “How on earth did I turn digital, anyway?!”
The plothole swelled up to gargantuan proportions, and began to tug at the lost American.
“I guess this is it, then…” she said. “Well, I suppose I’ll see you later. Or not.”
And with that, she stepped into the vortex and disappeared. As the hole in the plot closed up after the girl, Pikajew looked over at Emily and took her hand.
“She’ll be alright. I promise.”
The girl with light brown hair broke into a grin, “That girl couldn’t smart her way out of a paper bag.”
“Way to construct a sentence, Em,” he winked.
She frowned playfully, and was about to retort something back, when they heard shouts outside. Peering between the curtains, Emily cocked her head to the side.
“I think there’s a flame war going on… and it’s not about you, Pika…” she muttered.
He scowled – what good was a troll who couldn’t incite flame wars?
“Let’s go…” the troll growled, pushing up his sleeves. Emily followed along, stumbling over her faded and tattered dressing gown in the process.
They stormed (Well, Pikajew stormed – Emily merely trotted behind him like a lost puppy) over to the crowd, and pushed their way to the front. There was a small bird standing in front of them, rattling off insults that would make a seasoned sailor wet his pants in fear.
“Skraaawk, I shall send ye scurvy-infested sea dogs to Davy Jones’ locker, skraaawk!”
Yes. This Pokemon was a pirate.
It had the appearance of a small parrot, and was brightly coloured enough to look like something you’d see while on an acid trip. It had a fluffy white ruff around its neck, which gave it a resemblance to William Shakespeare, but was not nearly as cultured as the same. It glared at you from the one beady black eye that wasn’t covered by a patch, and from its rosy pink beak it threw pirate-like insults at you with a steady rhythm. The once glossy black feathers on its face and tail were now matted and muddy, and didn’t at all look like the musical symbols that they once did. It spread one blue wing and took a step towards the pair – it had a wooden leg. It had a bald chest with an anchor tattoo on it – one might have not known that there were ever lovely yellow and green feathers there.
Last edited by Emily; 06-16-2008 at 12:29 PM.
06-03-2008, 12:48 PM
Re: Pokemon is Serious Business!
“You dare challenge my kingdom?!” Pikajew asked, motioning for the crowd to move back. They did – it would be interesting to see what happened next.
The pirate Chatot bared its few yellow teeth – they were quite grotesque on a bird. “Ye shall plunder my booty, ye pox-faced land-whale!”
Emily laughed. “That bird just called you fat! Get it!”
And Pikajew did just that. He dove for the Pokemon, but forgot that birds have much better reflexes than humans, and missed by a mile. The Chatot chortled, and began to Sing a sea shanty in its raspy, most certainly NOT melodious voice.
“What'll we do with a drunken sailor,
What'll we do with a drunken sailor,
What'll we do with a drunken sailor,
Earl-aye in the morning?
”Way hay and up she rises
Way hay and up she rises
Way hay and up she rises
Earl-aye in the morning!”
By the time it had finished the first verse and the chorus, Pikajew was most certainly asleep. The music note Pokemon hobbled over to the sleeping Mexican, and proceeded to peck at the – er, ‘delicate parts’. Emily tried hard not to laugh – he was thrashing around in his shanty-induced slumber.
“Gerroffmeyoustupidbird!” he slurred, waking up after a little while of having a parrot savage his privates.
“I’ll reduce yer fort to rubble, ye pox-faced tub-o-lard! Shiver me timbers!” it replied, in all seriousness.
Pikajew kicked out a long leg, which struck the Pokemon with a satisfying ‘thwack’. It gave a screech of indignation, and flew straight at his face. The crowd had begun cheering for either side, and taking bets. Pikajew was bigger, but at the moment, he was losing to the small parrot. How embarrassing.
The two tussled on the ground, hurling insults at each other in their respective languages; troll, and pirate.
“Lurk moar, newfag! You’re doing it wrong!” Pikajew cried, slamming his fist into the bird’s beak again and again.
The pirate was too busy attempting to gouge his opponent’s eyes out to respond. After a few more moments of scuffling, Pikajew managed to kick the bird off him. It flew back into the crowd, where it was kicked around and stepped on underfoot as they tried to avoid this crazed Pokemon. It came barrelling out from amongst the people, and head butted Pikajew square in the chest. He was knocked backwards into a house, and sat there for a moment, feeling awfully woozy. It was at that moment that someone in the crowd watching thought it would be a great idea to see if he could make the battlers use moves.
“Chatot, use Chatter!” he hollered.
The pirate narrowed its eyes. “Only people in coats can hear me,” it said darkly.
Emily gasped. “That’s my Chatot! I made Chatter say that!”
Her happiness was short-lived, as Pikajew had begun stumbling around like he was high, drunk, or both. His shin collided with a small shrub, and he face-planted neatly into the ground. The same crowd member decided to try his luck a second time.
“Pikajew, use Taunt!” he cried out again. This time, though, all that came out of it was a kick to the face from Emily.
As the troll writhed on the ground, the pirate-esque Pokemon attempted to make its escape from the battle. With an amazing show of will, he leaped up and caught it, in midair. Thinking fast, Pikajew stuffed the bird into his mouth, and held it firmly shut as he tried to swallow. The crowd held their breath and waited – his cheeks were certainly bulging, and his captive was trying to escape.
Last edited by Emily; 06-16-2008 at 12:20 PM.
06-21-2008, 08:43 AM
Join Date: Apr 2005
Location: hidden in my avatar
Re: Pokemon is Serious Business!
DON'T. EVER. TYPE. A. STORY. PINK. AGAIN.
Continues the story of Jane(whose previous adventure I haven't read
but I really should). I liked the turn of events, with Jane somehow turning digital and wandering around the net. Very funny, really. At last, the plot holes have finally a use. Through it's not very clear to me, but in the end that's how it should be, they're plot holes after all.
This was very creative, with the various twists and all the other stuff.
I'm not too familiar with comedies, this was refreshing. Even through there's something which bothers me about this plot. I can't quite picture it. Or maybe I can? *cough*Digimon*cough*
Anyway, I have this feeling when reading every story involving a walk through the net. So it's not your fault. (This time lol)
Nothing more than a mispelling or a missing letter. And there were very few, for example:
“Well, the user of this computer uses Internet Explorer. I want revenge on his for this blasphemy, so I did the best thing possible, and protected the ‘virus’. I mean, why not?”
Since the question was "Why did
you protect me, I s'pose the reply should be in past tense too. Firefox wanted
revenge, now it has consumed it. Also, I think it wanted revenge on him
, as I can't detect anything to relate that his to.
You forgot something here, perhaps in the rush of writing?
amusingly good, admitting a good thing can be amusing ll. I could picture everything you written, and you made me laugh everywhere. For once, I've got nothing to complain about this(well, maybe you could've described Jane again, just to refresh to the reader how she looks like).
You overdid this. What should I say?
rather short, but I won't complain. The rest of the story was enough. Nice catch by the way xD.
Is there any doubt? You write nice stories, serious or not. You're really good, and always come up with interesting things. Chatot caught.
MeowthMistress1: the alimighty ranger station
MeowthMistress1: we serve to protect you, just don't require us to spell or use proper grammar.
06-21-2008, 11:31 AM
Re: Pokemon is Serious Business!
Haha, thanks. Also, the only Digimon I know of is the movie, so you can't point the finger at me.
09-11-2008, 11:40 AM
Re: Pokemon is Serious Business!
LOL I HAS A STORY
Pokemon is Serious Business
A look of absolute horror crossed Emily’s face as her friend swallowed the struggling bird.
“Why did you do that?!” she whimpered, tears welling up in her eyes.
Pikajew grinned. “Oh, you’ll get him back.”
It was right then that a rock fell from the sky and everyone died. This story is now about a Pokemon Trainer named Wormoroni (short for Wormoronimoppellunchboxwellensittichchen) who is just starting out on her Pokemon Journey™!
“Wormoronimoppellunchboxwellensittichchen Pferd Mütze, get out of bed this bloody instant!” yelled Wormoroni’s unexplainably English mother, using her daughter’s full name. To this day, nobody could figure out why this lady had named her daughter a mixture of German, English, and whatever Wormoroni is.
The girl moaned and groaned and whined the house down. “But muuuuuuum…” she complained, “It’s seven in the moooooorniiiiiiiiing…”
“Wormy, dear, you know the lab opens at six, and most of the kids actually want
to get up early to get a good one.” She gave her daughter a prod, and the girl thrashed amusingly.
! I’ll go get a stupid Pokemon!” Wormoroni sighed, pouring out of bed and onto her bedroom floor, if you could call it that. There was so much junk that you wouldn’t know there was
a floor under there. In fact, it looked something like this;
(A picture is worth a thousand words, right? So that’s like four thousand characters right there.)
Anyway, Wormoroni threw on some clothes and stumbled out of her room. She continued stumbling through the house, and eventually stumbled to Professor Shrubbery’s lab. Once inside, she stumbled to the table and grinned in a stumbling fashion at the Professor.
“All I have left is this Umbreon so here you go!” Professor Shrubbery said quickly, his fluorescent green hair catching the light menacingly.
“Kay.” Wormoroni left the lab, and it was only then that it dawned on her to let out her new Umbreon.
In a flash of bright red light, what was most certainly not an Umbreon materialised in front of her. It was hot pink with annoyingly yellow rings on its ears and tail, and a badly-drawn star on its forehead. It had a really big nose that seemed to be dripping with some form of bacteria. It had ridiculously useless little wings, and it was balancing on what looked like black sticks.
“Jesus Christ!” she yelped, leaping backwards as it took a step towards her.
Turns out that they weren’t sticks; they were just dicky little legs. In fact, this weirdo Pokemon looked something like this…
“HI I’M AN UMBREON,” it said, its smile unfaltering even while it spoke.
“No… you’re not,” Wormoroni replied.
“YES I AM.”
“Shut up, Pinkie.”
Wormoroni sighed and began to walk, her not-Umbreon trotting beside her happily. They walked like that for a little over a minute before encountering some grass. The girl brushed a few strands of soft brown hair from her eyes and looked at Pinkie.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” she asked.
“ONLY IF YOU’RE THINKING WHAT I’M THINKING, B2,” the Pokemon said, making an obscure reference to Bananas in Pyjamas.
They dived headfirst into the ankle-length grass and found themselves in a battle almost instantaneously. Music started to play as a Magikarp floated into view, flipping and flopping.
“HI I’M MAGICRAP!” it said, smiling creepily.
“SHUT UP YOU’RE ORANGE!” growled Pinkie, Tackling the orange fish.
“:(,” it said, using Splash and making Wormoroni’s white shirt go see-through.
The girl was confused. Did that Magikarp just say :(? Is that even possible? And where did all of that water come from?
“Um, Pinkie. Try a Faint Attack?” she ordered rather unsurely.
Pinkie clutched at her chest, stiffening and falling to the ground, apparently unconscious. The Magikarp burst into tears at this, and Flailed around.
“OH GOD MY FACE.” The not-Umbreon sat up, rubbing her face where the retarded fish Pokemon had smacked her. “YOU’RE MEAN MAGICRAP.”
It was now getting much, much too weird for Wormoroni to comprehend, and she recalled Pinkie without another word.
“Hey Magicrap, come with us on our Pokemon Journey™!” she said, smiling.
Ready for grading or something like that
Going for Magikarp
I have 4,135 characters
Last edited by Emily; 09-12-2008 at 09:47 AM.
09-12-2008, 04:47 PM
Join Date: Mar 2005
Location: *Smacks with Zanpakuto* STALKER!
Re: Pokemon is Serious Business!
Haha, this thing made me lol, literally. Anyways, here's teh Gradez:
Introduction: Hah, there really was no introduction, but it would have been hard to make one, seeing as you picked up from where you left off. Still, there was something like an intro a few sentences in, and that was funny. Heh, the name made me laugh.
Pass for this.
Plot: All of a sudden, the story changes from Emily's problems to a journey about a girl named Wormoroni. The girl is starting her Pokemon journey, so she goes to get a Starter. She's told by Prof. Shrubbery that it's an Umbreon, but turns out not to be. The two soon get into a random battle with a Magicrap.
Haha, utterly random and lacking in any real structure. Just the way a humor story should be ^^. I lol'ed at the rock killing everyone. Keep in mind, though, that the tougher the category the Mon falls in, the more structured a story has to be, even a humor one. This is fine because it's just for a Magikarp, but if it had been, say, Milotic, it wouldn't have made the cut. Just wanted to make sure you knew this, in case you decide to go for harder Mon in later chapters.
Anyways, this was funny and good enough for a Crap lol. Pass.
Length: Good enough, nuff said. Pass.
Detail: Heh, next to none. Sure, you only need a minimum amount of descriptions for an Easiest category Mon like Magikarp, but you still need SOME basic details of the characters and settings. The most we got was what the not-Umbreon looked like. Even in humor stories and ones for insanely easy Mon, you've got to give us some kind of description so we're not left guessing. You did this well in other chapters, though, so I think I know the reason behind the lack in this one: the category. I think it should be reworded in the description given to make it more clear that general details are required, despite the fact that Easiest category Mon are still, well, the easiest to get through stories.
What I'm trying to get at is this: it doesn't matter if it's a Magikarp or a Milotic, every story needs at least basic details of characters and scenery so the reader can picture it all. The only thing that changes between categories is how in-depth these details need to be. For a Karp, not so much. For a Milo, well, I'm sure you get the idea.
I don't feel right Failing you for this, since I'm certain you were simply misled into thinking you just didn't need to give details. However, I can't Pass you on that assumption alone, so I'll leave this area at Borderline. Sound fair?
Grammar/Spelling: Good, good. I really only saw this error:
It should be "Pajamas." And lol, I remember that show. It annoyed me ><...*Tries to get the song out of her head.* Giant talking bananas in blue-and-white striped pajamas is just not right...
...making an obscure reference to Bananas in Pyjamas.
Anyways, Pass for this, yay.
Battle: Meh, with this being a humor story, you could have made it a little longer, but it's good enough for a Magikarp. What I love about humor stories is they give you so much freedom in the battle department. Mon can have crazy moves, like Magikarp having Explosion. Or maybe the Trainers randomly start using attacks. The possibilities are endless with humor stories.
But this is still for a Magikarp, humor story or no, and no Grader expects great things of a Magikarp battle lol. Pass for this.
Outcome: I bet you know what's coming! You don't? Fine, I'll tell ya: MAGIKARP NOT CAPTURED!!! >:[
Sheesh, stop giving me that evil look! ;_; I'm sorry, will you stop ebil-eye'ing me if I said Magikarp Captured? Lol, have fun with the splishy fishy :P.
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