View Full Version : PokeWars {Comed} {One-shot}

Arcanine Royale
21st July 2006, 3:31 AM
Here she is: my first try at comedy, and an entry for Laughingstock which recieved a 9th place, mostly because I forgot to reread the rules for a fifth time - the rules stated it wasn't supposed to be parody/crossover. Rated PG I guess. Ah, well, here she is.


by Arcanine Royale

Master Pharos walked into a large room. He was here to destroy the Silph Lord, Darth Zard. As he looked around, he heard a thunderous chuckle. “Pharos, looking for me, are we?”

Pharos nodded. He raised a small tin can from his belt. He reached for a can-opener on the other side of his belt. As he opened the can, a great beam of energy came out with a sizzle.

It was a beautiful day, if you can call it that in deep space. Master Pharos gazed into the dark starlit sky. He raised his can-saber and threw it at his opponent, a large pink Charizard. His saber, a yellow beam of energy, matched perfectly to his yellow body with black stripes.

“I am sick of this game,” Master Pharos said in annoyance.

“Oh, you are,” said the pink Charizard, carefully flying upwards towards the roof of the ship, avoiding the saber of light-energy that coursed of thunder-power.

“I am, why yes!”

“Well then,” said the Charizard, “take the thong off your head and everything will be fine.”

“No,” Master Pharos said. For in this universe of Dentellare, the only way can-sabers could be used was through the sworce. Powered by the great mines of swiss cheese in the center of the galaxy, the only way to connect to this sworce was by placing a pink thong on one’s head. This thong could never be removed, or the sworce would cease to exist in that person.

“Fine then, Master Pharos. If you would like it that way, prepare to be decimated with my evil army of terror!” A large star fighter rolled out into the room. From it came a large mass of red, yellow, and blue.

“A Lego army? Surely Darth Zard, the power of the sworce must not be with you.”

“No, Master Pharos. You are the one without the sworce. For my Lego army of terror will destroy you.”

“How, pray tell, Darth Zard? Will they behead me? Perhaps hang me? Surely you will not do something as cruel as that?”

“No, Pharos, something much, much crueler. I will expose you to the most evil, most deadly, most cruel death.”

“Surely you don’t mean…”

“Yes, in deed I do. Exposure to ‘It’s A Small World After All’!”


“Yes!” Darth Zard quickly tied up Pharos. He brought him down a hall into a large block of cells. He locked him into a cell and slowly swallowed the key ring. He walked away, leaving the Ampharos to ponder his own fate.

“It’s a small world, after all.
It’s a small world, after all.
It’s a small world, after all.
It’s a small, small world.”

“How is it going, Pharos? Your world is certainly…smaller!”

“Why quite well, Darth Zard. I never knew your ship was filled with…”

“No, how did you know?”

“Yes, I know!”

“You know that my ship is filled with Caterpie in bikinis?”

“What? Really? I didn’t know that.” Pharos slowly chuckled.

“Oh no. Not your geddi mind tricks again! But, a little tidbit. Caterpie in bikinis are quite good cooks, pilots, and servants. Plus, they really invigorate your army!”

“Yes, Darth Zard, I bet they are!” Pharos raised his yellow hands.

“Ah!” Darth Zard screamed. He fell to the ground. His pink wings enveloped his body.

“No,” Pharos said as he grabbed his can saber, “my can opener fell out!”

“Ha, ha, ha, Pharos,” Darth Zard said with menace. “Chicken noodle soup is quite delicious with a geddi can opener!”

“No,” Pharos said in agony, “I can’t use my can saber now! Zard, let me out and we shall fight like true geddi!”

“Fine,” said Darth Zard in annoyance. “However, I choose the contest!”

“Take your pick at the contest then, Darth!”

“I choose star fighter racing!”

“Why that,” replied Pharos smugly. “For everyone knows I am the fastest racer in the galaxy!”

“Fine then, Master Pharos,” Darth Zard uttered in amusement. “Can-saber throwing is the contest, for I am the best in the galaxy!”

“No, Darth Zard. You are quite wrong. I am,” Pharos said with a grin.

“Well, Pharos, it has been said that I make a mean batch of cookies. In fact, my master said once that my chocolate chip cookies were the best in the galaxy…”

“Seriously, Darth. Surely you can think of a contest that I am not good at!”

“Why yes. Yes I can. Let’s see… I know! It’s the perfect thing!”

“Yes!” Pharos said in excitement.

“I know of a sport few people know. Not even the ancient Silph Order knew of it.”

“What, pray tell, is this great sport, Darth Zard?”

“The sport of, of … thumb wrestling!”

Pharos winced. He knew naught what this noble sport was, nor any of its rules or regulations.

“Oh, Pharos, your time has come! Thumb wrestling is the most complex sport in the galaxy. You will never win!”

“So be it,” said Pharos.

Pharos mentally worked, using the sworce to infiltrate Darth Zard’s brain. He pushed mentally against a wall. His mind’s eye glanced into Darth’s mind. He saw a pink pool with bean bag chairs and bright flowers. Finally, the mind wall broke. Pharos’s mind stepped into Darth’s mind. He walked around the pool, walking into a room marked “Computer Room.” He stepped into the room. The room was quite small. Each wall was bear, except for a single pink square of paint on every wall. At the back of the room was a computer.

Pharos stepped towards it. He sat down on a pink chair and put his hand upon the pink mouse. The mouse hissed in annoyance as its cursor bounced across the screen. It turned its now grey and furry body at Pharos and bared its sharp teeth.

”Hey,” Pharos said. He carefully sent a tendril of thought at the mouse. It became a regular computer mouse once more.

“Now, let’s see. Art, no. Music, no. Naked elf shower bowling, what in the world? No. How to kill a geddi by the name of Pharos. Hey, that seems probable.” Pharos clicked into the file. “Plan A: Use Geddi Mind Tricks. No, not that. Plan B: Trick him to enter a cell. No, he managed to do that somehow, though. Plan C: Contest. Yes.” Once again, Pharos clicked into the folder. “Star-fighter racing. No. Can-saber throwing. No. Cookie baking? No way. Flirting? I didn’t know Silph Lords though that! Finally, Thumb Wrestling.” Once again, Pharos opened the document. He quickly began reading…

“Our first competitor: the Silph Lord, the master of spice, the cookie king, the apprentice of Darth Broke and Darth Back, the king of can-sabers, the best star fighter racer in the galaxy. I give you the one and only master of the noble sport of thumb wrestling! I give you the one, the only, Darth Zard. Weighing in at 452 pounds, Darth Zard knows the finer points of thumb wrestling. He won the Galactic Cup last year and did the same at the Silph Lord convention.

And, in this corner, we have the electric geddi of the Master Council. Known for his knowledge of the sworce, Master Amplified Pharos can fight any enemy with a can-saber. However, he knows nothing of the great sport of thumb wrestling. Weighing in at a measly 145 pounds and 4 feet in height, Pharos has one to twenty-five odds against Zard. Let the first match begin!”

Master Pharos calmly glared at Darth Zard. He extended his fist and raised his thumb. “One, two, three, four, you declared a thumb war. Five, six, seven, eight, don’t you think Brokeback Death Star is great? Nine, ten, eleven, twelve, the more that we delve. Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, by the way, that’s when you supposed to be able to drive. Seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty, this is getting pointless, isn’t it. Twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four, let us start this thumb war.”

A whistle sounded. Pharos strategically waved his thumb around in temptation. Darth Zard slammed down his thumb, missing by a fraction of an inch. Pharos’s thumb slowly pulsed across Zard’s fore finger. Darth Zard’s finger slammed down, pinning what would have been Pharos’s thumb. Instead, Darth’s thumb was under Pharos’s thumb. It was all over. Another whistle sounded.

“That is the match! In a harrowing upset, Darth Zard falls to Master Amplified Pharos. Pharos receives death by beheading!”

“WHAT!” Pharos angrily shouted.

Suddenly, a long crack resounded through the arena-like room. A slice of swiss cheese slowly floated into the center of the arena.

“The sworce has come to avenge the disturbance of the balance. The sworce shall destroy Darth Zard. The sworce will do it quickly. The sworce will avenge the disturbance of balance. The sworce shall make all well. Pharos, the sworce gives you a yatch complete with a mini-bar and satellite television. Complete with twenty hot gals, this Bermuda-based space yatch is all a budding geddi such as yourself could ever want.” Pharos vanished.

“Now, the sworce shall destroy you and all your minions! By, by, you guessed it!” The swiss cheese conjured up a large boombox. He gently slipped a disc into the player.

“Prepare to die by exposure to the hit jazz-country-heavy metal mix, It’s a Small World, After All!”

The music cranked through the speakers. Slowly, Darth Zard and his evil minions began melting onto the floor. They screamed in agony.

"Curse you, sworce!"