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Thread: The Not Too Serious Adventures of Nick, Hero of the Plot

  1. #1
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    Default The Not Too Serious Adventures of Nick, Hero of the Plot

    Repost in an effort to encourage me to write chapter 2 after two years of this sitting around. I warn first that this is a humour created piece of writting. I piss take things you may not agree with nor understand, please respect that this will not be to everybody's taste nor does it try to be. A lot of references are towards life in Britain, amongst other things, so they may go over your head. Truth be told they might not but there we go.

    See how many piss takes I inserted or indeed references I've chucked in there you can find

    This is written to be a wtfable thing, not my usual type of writting. Given my wierd sense of humour... yeah. I think I editted it to catch typos, not sure.

    Ps. Mr. Pokeball owns your socks.


    Rated PG

    The Not Too Serious Adventures of Nick, Hero Of The Plot
    Chapter 1 – Adventures Begins and Soup is Made


    Well, I understand we should go back really before starting, inform you of the very plot to commence and all that. Here I am trying to drop you already into a poor destined boy’s tale of woe and idiocy, which is a little unfair per say isn’t it? I do apologise.

    For you see, this tale begins with a mere 12-year-old boy, thrown out his excited mother’s house for a journey of a lifetime, so she says, into a world of adventure, which he does not want.

    I am sure you may have heard such words before surely countless times, children of 10 whom used to be the ones kicked out their houses to often end up eaten by Arbok and… other such pleasantries. Since that time however a law has been brought in, which seems to only exist in order to infuriate the parents, as the children were far too immature to understand the basic concepts of the “outside”.

    It states clearly on that scrap of illustrious paper for children to be at least 11 years of age as of course, an 11 year old will surely have much more sense in a single year extra at home. Logic at it’s finest you may agree!


    The snake Pokemon and even the foul violet globs have never been rounder or as round as can be considered before maybe a diet is in order.


    To be 12 though and to have not left, a stigma fixates on that so strongly. I mean really, how would a mother live with herself for committing such an atrocity?! Bah she deserved such out-casting from her town, shunned I say!

    ‘This is for your oh so precious daddy,’ she would ramble endlessly, ‘you’re doing this for daddy, just for daddy, yes all done by daddy’s precious little boy!’ always while moving on the rather flimsy rocking chair within their home to the sound of each floorboard creak. These words repeated over and over about this utterly non-existent father, quite normal affairs really.


    You must wonder of course how a boy with such an excitable mother, one who set about dancing and screaming till she was arrested and awarded an ASBO by the neighbours whenever she heard a word with the letter P in it, how on earth he stayed remotely “normal.”

    Answer? Just a wandering miracle.


    Today lacks any kind of speciality in reality other than being anymore than part of this formerly mentioned tale of woe. Just another Wednesday it is for the pick up of new starter Pokemon, all the other days are generally booked for the lab owner’s sunbathing and tan session you see. Why bother weekly then? Because who doesn’t love those little bundles of wrathful joy that is a new Pokemon generation!

    All the more ideal for a deranged mother to shoo her son out the door while going

    ‘Stay out, you’re a big precious little boy now taaa~’, before blocking it shut with the rocking chair on the inside and then in turn rambling how her infinitely precious little boy is finally going out into the world.

    So when a backpack is shoved into his arms and he is thrown out the door as he was momentarily before, what is he to do? Cause mild profanity and stomp over the to lab of course! It is a very good thing that those boots were made for walking as well as stomping otherwise they might be not as good for the agitated trainer to stomp in.


    Now, standing before the door with a somewhat scowling face and crossed arms would be the hero of our tale, supposedly destined to save us all from imminent destruction according to some fanciful cryptic documents and to do what nobody ever could do before him.

    At least, according to the script.


    With his rather eccentric mother’s words still driving him from turning away from the possible mightiest of adventures that only the previous week others had set out for the same, he sighs a slight before opening the great lab doors with a firm tug and into his grudgingly accepted decision.

    ‘Ah there you are HERO, I was waiting for you!’

    ‘My name is Nick, NICK!’ the young hero hisses angrily slamming the door behind him.


    Within the hallowed Laboratory walls of pristine and white as though untouched by the hand of man or somebody had just taken a Flash Wipe to the area. Where not a book or paper lay out of place on bookshelf or desk is where the quest giver be like some deranged place prop.

    Standing perfectly still as quest givers may when not yet “A”ed at nor clicked do while hosting pixel perfect and well-gelled spike of hair, Professor Chestnut happens to be in the place of. After a few dragged out moments for illusionist effect, he tilts his head ever so slightly with a floorboard creak, seemingly in an almost zombie like stasis as his eyes stare blankly without life. All the while during these fanciful affairs hosting the eerily grasped penny box in his hand.

    It all speaks of some cheap budget horror flick, somehow.


    With a curious frown, our hero walks up to the professor with the greatest of care should the older man suddenly jump out at him for some reason. Frowning further, he looks that bit more unnerved in expression as the Professor doesn’t even seem to be breathing either…

    Making a face at the predicament he has found himself in, he gingerly pushes at the held box with a single fingertip just to see if would do anything or indeed cause the man to speak again. It just seemed to encourage the puzzling thought of why such a flimsy piece of cardboard is being held at all.

    As his hand is withdrawn, text decides to appear in a classic digitised font on the front of the penny box with even the horrible green colour of those old fashion types.

    “Insert coin above”, it reads.

    Well there did seem to be no aides around to help with this matter, no box of goodies or other help around in the form of a red and golden chest... With a mild shrug, Nick takes out a single coin from his magically produced pocket and then drops it into the box with a satisfying clunk.


    ‘Ah this’ll be going straight to my pension fund! Thank you good sir! Riiiight then HERO! What starter Pokemon would you like? I hear the Squirtle dish is simply divine!’ Chestnut’s shouts out with a little foot tap easily flooring the startled boy who hadn’t done anything more than putting 1p into the coin slot.

    The Professor hardly seems to notice; his eyes and sudden spasms seeming more akin to sugar rush then human as he parades around clutching his little box.

    ‘Are you insane or just old?’ Nick grumbles rubbing his head a slight as he sits up, mildly cursing the odd man for making him jump like that when it was he who wasn’t moving before after all!

    Not to mention, this guy is supposed to be a high-qualified Professor? All the while amongst the cursing he ponders while he trying to ignore the overly eager looking man standing before him with a too big a grin for his features now the dance was complete.

    ‘So which Pokemon started would you like then HERO? I’ve got a nice Chu and Berry dish for a delightful little mix, Bulb and Roots for those with a salad taste, Lizard Skin and Vegetables for those growing bones or a lovely warm Squirtle broth all waiting for you! So which you gonna have, hm? Hm?’ Chestnut jabbers with clasped hands before doing a little twirl at the thought of his special dishes on the way, all in his special pink apron.

    No, that apron was not there before he started dancing.


    Slapping his forehead before groaning with disgust at the images conveyed, Nick glances up at the pseudo dancer with the frank remark.

    ‘You do realise you’re not supposed to eat them right; you know cus they’re for TRAINERS not their stomachs? Plus my name is NICK!’

    Chestnut looks utterly flabbergasted for a brief moment before hugging the little moneybox with tears almost in his tawny eyes.

    ‘But they are simply fabulous, HERO! Here! You sit yourself right down on this oh so shiny floor and I’ll make us some special SQUIRTLE Soup! How does that sound? Come, come, Mr. Pokeball let us make haste!’

    Quickly discarding his shoes with a clatter, Professor Chestnut proceeds to slide his away across the floor in classic sock skidding fashion, aka sideways, while a floating Pokeball that just appears out of nowhere follows his eccentric stride by spinning as though it had been thrown.

    All the while leaving a very baffled looking rookie behind.


    ‘Oh my, Mr. Pokeball, such an exciting day indeed! A penny for the poor, such a late starter deserves an extra special treat don’t you think? Hold still my dear little bathing SQUIRTLE, it’s bobbing time!’ Chestnut claps with a jitter.

    The Squirtle in question looks a little puzzled as it munches on a fresh Lum berry, inwardly wondering why the Professor was talking to a floating Pokeball, not at all bothered by the large metal pot beside it bringing water to boil.

    The last thing it manages to get out is an Squir? As it is scooped up before stuffed in the water and a lid placed on top.

    ‘Now Mr. Pokeball We must leave it be for five minutes while he bob, bob, bobs! Yes, yes I’m sure this will be a truly delightful treat too, I’m so happy you agree!’ Professor Chestnut gleams as he slides off to prepare some good vegetables, two bowls and a bendy straw.


    As the dubbed Mr. Pokeball spins over the boiling broth, Nick decides better than to listen to the deranged man’s words. Ignoring the shoes that were now somehow fading from existence he is in far more favour of looking for one of the real starter Pokemon. He didn’t cook them surely, right?

    Thinking better than to find out really what was going on where the old man had skidded to, Nick begins to look for at least a potential door that could be where the Pokemon are so he can get one, get out and be done with it well away from all the insane people.

    Yeah, that seemed like the best idea.


    ‘Well Mr. Pokeball, would you also like some soup? The little shell bobber is looking a delightful treat despite I have not yet dared lift the lid! I’m sure his sunglasses are sitting firmly on its nose! With a bit of seasoning, and Oxo cube this will be the best one yet!’

    Mr. Pokeball seems pleased with the matter, spinning its approval with a slight tilt on its axis.

    ‘Oh how delightful you agree! I trust you to stir as I put the vegetables in! Would you like a spoon to use?’

    It does not appear that Mr. Pokeball is in need of said spoon; already somehow holding one as it floating spins it’s merry little way.


    As the broth is stirred with a rabid sock puppet trying to gnaw at the Professor’s toes, Nick who should quite rightfully be hogging the camera time has finally found a door hopefully leading to where the hidden starter Pokemon is located. Unfortunately for him however, it is not a real door but something drawn in something little more than red wax crayon due to bad description.

    Even the doorknob is a rather crude squatangle shape, ever so menacing with potential paper cuts in its might flatness.

    ‘If this is just as warped a the rest of here, hm, see no reason this shouldn’t work’

    Thinking better to risk his hands, Nick narrows his eyes with a grin taking his backpack off. Grabbing one of the arm straps tight, Nick holds it near his feet eyeing the door.

    ‘MY NAME IS NOT HERO!’ he shrieks loudly in anger, suddenly throwing the backpack at the crayon drawing that dutifully scrunches to create a gaping papery hole at the sheer might of those scary capitalised words.

    ‘This place just gets weirder and weirder,’ Nick comments with a minor gesture with his hand for the sheer randomness before him. Hearing no alarm or war siren for his troubles, he hunches up a tad to push himself through the no longer scrawled upon wall.


    ‘Food glorious food! Hot Grumpig and mustard! While we're in the mood – Cold Ditto and custard!’

    It is Nick’s turn to look flabbergasted from his mini charge and its result. Before him lay rows upon rows of Pokemon, sitting at a picnic bench style set up waving a bowl with plastic spoon each all the while singing together. None seemed bothered about being in a cold colour drained cell room nor the fact their own colour looks subdued from the lack of proper lighting.

    No, singing is far more important when your tummy is rumbling than the lack of paintbrush artistics.

    ‘Pecha pudding and saveloys! What next is the question!’

    Falling backwards and landing on his backside, Nick just blinks with his mouth a tad agape in utter, WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON HERE?! thought crawling. The Pokemon ignoring him entirely to continue the rhythmic tap of their spoons upon where they are seated.


    With the gracious passing of a further ten minutes leaves a freaked out child chance to escape through the paper hole, away from the sing and dance spectacular now taking place upon the table, the broth is complete! The shell had been dry cleaned then handed back to the Squirtle with a small cup full of soup for it’s trouble, only fair you see.

    Nick leans against the papery door panting heavily from the shock absurdity and exertion of pulling himself back through with his backpack is the now un-tearable door. He looks worn with paper cuts ravishing his pure skin and beyond the obvious heartbeat running six marathons at the same time, he seems otherwise all right as heroes over do mind.

    ‘Ah HERO! Thank goodness you are still here! I do so hope you enjoyed my dancers, they have been rehearsing for the Christmas to come since the past one came and went!’ Professor Chestnut proclaims with a swift gesture using his hair.

    His pace is slower with a moderate walk over frantic skids, coming towards the new trainer holding a tray readily prepared with the food and a few Pikachu shaped biscuits as a dipable treat. His apron is still being worn in all its pink glory around his waist and there is a blue Mew on his shoulder looking quite content holding a spoon.





    A blue Mew?!


    Very understandably, this further shock is too much for Nick’s heart so he faints completely and utterly.
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  2. #2
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    Huh.

    Well, I didn't find it laughably funny, but it succeeded in being... very bizarre, in a good way. It made me wonder what squirtle tastes like, which I think says... something.

    But it seems right now to be lacking direction or meaning, and as a reader I don't yet feel any attachment for any characters. I think I might have trouble following each chapter if they're all a lot like this.

    I dunno, it may be that all your references and whatnot just went over my head and I'm not seeing the purpose the way I should. What do I know, I'm a stupid American >__>
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    Well by in large this was originally written as a piss take (Not like my usual where it's far more serious and not fluffed up in the slightest hence the title) of both things that irrtate me in the fanfiction writting of newbies and the games themselves along with just... silliness. This was originally written two years ago albeit chapter 2 is similar as it still appeals to me personally.

    As I said, my sense of humour is VERY wierd so I have no problem with it going over people's heads. I can't force anybody to laugh as i'm not the sorda person who can come out with a witty comment off the bat but if it raises a smile with at least one person, I'll be happy.

    I just spotted a typo too, guess I didn't edit after all. Ah well. Really this is to see if after two years there's still an auidence for this sorda thing, if not I'll fish out another oldie. I appreciate you taking the time to comment however.

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  4. #4

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    I’ve got a nice Chu and Berry dish for a delightful little mix, Bulb and Roots for those with a salad taste, Lizard Skin and Vegetables for those growing bones or a lovely warm Squirtle broth all waiting for you!
    Sort of reminds me of A Modest Proposal, just a little. It's really quite funny, not really funny ha ha, but strange and interesting. I think I'd like to read more of this. Though I might not really understand the references.
    You evolve, too.

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    Absolutely hilarious XD

    I loved all of it. The randomness, silliness, weirdness amd whateverelseness was all excellent. I really hope you continue it and you can count on me to read it.

    Logic at it’s finest you may agree!
    I noticed you did this in a few places. here shouldn't be an apostrophe unless its a contraction, I believe.

    Professor Chestnut gleams as he slides off to prepare some good vegetables, two bowls and a bendy straw.
    It does have to be a bendy straw. Just would not be the same otherwise. =P

    Anyway, good work.
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    Clearly insanity runs in the family...because this is mildly amusing for a piss-take.

    Never have I seen a more insane professor in my life, and sincerely hope this is a mere dream he's having, as it just seems to barmy for words.

    Moar Squirtle broth, I squeal. PM listify me NAO.


    I reject your Nyancats and replace it with my own.
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    And you claim people don't like your crap. you got more people liking it then I have lately, but evidently it's deserved according to local idiots. Anyways.

    All I have to say is poor, poor Nick.

    And is he the one that's a valentine's friend? :d

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    Well they are. And what the heck are you on about anyway?

    Nick wishes he was having a dream too, more so given this universe seems to contain vast quanties of hax... Second chapter proof in point.

    Didn't think I killed the typos, probably didn't to try and get me working more on Chapter 2 (Didn't work like but it's the thought that counts, this chapter is from late 2006). Hopefully I should get on with it this time, that and the RT chapter which incidentlly is my favourite chapter.

    I is slow. Thanks for the replies though.

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    It's funny enough to make me laugh. I spotted a few mistakes though
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    How long did it take you to write Chapter one? Btw, it's "mmmmm"!

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    It's taken two years but it finally happened! Not only did Nick finally get out the lab but it's the second chapter! I do like writting this, it's so different from my usual stuff it's a nice break.

    Course now it means I can finally start writting Overdose, glee!

    As before, I really don't care if you don't find it funny. It is written as purely fun for myself, piss taking things that annoy me in 'mon fics, making random references (There's a Yugioh Abridged ref in there, can you see it?) and for having something for a change where I don't kill everything and everyone...

    Things should settle now he's out the lab and on his journey though the sporadic updates will continue as I only write this when I feel like it


    Sorry for the random author notes in, they'll happen. Just a random feel like it thing...


    And a warning. Word mistook my Professor typos for Processor, I may not have gotten them all out. So if you see a Processor Chestnut, thats why.


    -


    The Not Too Serious Adventures of Nick, Hero Of The Plot
    Chapter 2 – Pirate Day is Wednesday at 2



    Last time, or indeed last chapter of our tale long long ago, the hero had left his home after being booted out by his non-sensical mother whom is currently being dragged away in a straightjacket by the grammar police. His story began in a flash of lazy script, flatly ignoring any walking or indeed the location of where he lives, so grand!

    Events then happened, so amazing they were it is unbelievable you have forgotten them already! Sock sliding Professors, floating Pokeballs, re-enactments of a classical story and last but not least, the supposedly impervious hero fainted, ON THE SPOT!

    Yes, yes, if you’re quite over the shock what with sending your martini going flying, just to let you know it’s now causing your television set to fizzle and crackle on the verge of explosive…. So, to compensate your new and recent loss, the scene will now be returned to where our hero lies unconscious, not moving and with a very sore noggin!



    That’s a head to you, sunshine. Don’t make me get the water!

    -

    ‘How odd! Do you think it was something I said Mr. Pokeball?’ Chestnut queries glancing to the spoon wielder with a satisfying slosh of soup upon tray accompaniment.

    ‘Surely not, good sir! Your cooking is the finest, finest on the seven seas!’ pipes the Mew, tipping his paper sailor hat in respect.

    ‘Hmm, then I guess he fainted from the sheer excellence! Nay, it was so good that his young years could not handle the vibrancy and beauty that is this, this delightful dish with the most perfect-incarnate biscuits!’

    ‘Aye sir! Such a plausible idea you have it sends shivers down my wooden toe it does!’ Mr. Pokeball agrees waving his spoon as though a jabbing sword albeit far more blunt but no less striking fear into the hearts of many men.


    With a sound of possible thought and ramble, Chestnut goes to sit upon the oh-so slippery-to-socks-surface with a well-oiled creak from a little pot residing his back pocket. Accompanying a huff, the Professor carefully places the tray on top of the slumbering Nick before marvelling at the balance he had achieved.

    ‘Might I suggest, if I may, that such a revitalising potion of delicious taste is used to wake him from his hearty rest? Put fire in the belly of the rookie so he may go forth to victory upon the stormy waters!’ Mr. Pokeball proclaims jumping off the shoulder to land on, not the air you silly people, a floating brick.
    -

    What are you talking about, of course bricks float! How could you be such a silly person and think otherwise!? They are prone to randomly dropping from the sky mind; are a builder’s dream and heartache of smashie smashie to windows but that is beside the point!

    -

    ‘Why yes, yes, what a fantastic idea! Attention! Goggles people just like our health and safety drill! Goggles on now!’ Chestnut claps his hands in glee before pulling his own down and securing them tight.

    Upon the thumbs up from the fellow and previously unmentioned staff members, he nods with the broadest of grins before slamming his fist down on the tray edge sending the soup catapulting towards its unfortunate and far less protected target.


    ‘HOTHOHOTHOT! HELP! HURRY! ‘GET ME WATER! WATER NOW!’ shrieks Nick swiftly afterwards as he dances to his feet still sizzling strong.

    ‘Oh fudge it; I do proclaim my hat is on fire sah! How sad, I mourn thee gracious of hats!’ Mr. Pokeball grumbles as pats out the fire with his severely melted goggles, the distinctive waft of volcanic hot food with a linger of mint floating about.

    ‘Oh do calm down dear HERO, ‘tis only a scald so no need to be so dramatic! Nay, it is but a mere flesh wound! Come, come I have some suntan lotion in the fridge to come to your aid! Mr. Pokeball, may you please fetch it? I’m sure I left it next to the jet engine in there!’ Chestnut queries gesturing back to the kitchen with a flick of his almighty hair.

    ‘Why yes, certainly, sir!’ answers the Mew countering with a swift salute complete with burned out hat. The blue blur swiftly turns and surfs upon his brick whilst s******s excitedly about their soon to be summer vacation in the Artic.


    ‘Ah dearest HERO, how loud you scream still! Now sit down here, there’s a good boy! I know it burns and all that but it’s simply the price of such good food! I’ll even get you a plaster too so you’ll be ship shape and dancing a merry river in no time!’* The Professor giggles pulling out a first aid box from his seemingly bottomless pocket.

    The picture of a complete opposite and slumped in the newly produced chair is our dear Nick, far into the realms of worse for wear than his excitable cohorts. Complete he is in a distinct shade of Magikarp and sore. What with his gaping mouth struggling to utter a word beyond a pained ow ever so occasionally it makes one wonder if his skin was a secret cosplayer to be this effective?

    Of course in this state he completely misses Mr. Pokeball’s return now mysteriously in a hula skirt and the afore mentioned suntan lotion in paw.

    ‘Come, come now HERO! We must get you back together again so I can send you on your journey! I even have the most perfect of Pokemon all ready and lined up for your inspection with a side order of vegetables I do!’ Chestnut chitters taking out a plaster and peeling it with care before waving it at the Mew.
    ‘And you sir, Mr. Pokeball, could you play rub it in gently now so I may apply this plaster with the up most caution? And might I say you surely do look handsome in such wares, it goes oh so beautifully with your coconuts!’

    ‘Oh thank ye for the compliment sir! I shall do as you bid with a blush worn on my tail tip!’ he bows before popping open the lid. ‘Right me hearty let us begin! We shall have you ship shape and ready for the seas!’ the Mew exclaims squeezing the bottle prepared for the unsuspecting Trainer.


    Surprisingly it is only within two minutes sharp than Nick has resumes his far more boring complexion albeit with a plaster located securely on his forehead as a preventive measure to relapse. Even he looks confused at his remarkable recovery attributed to by the power of science.

    ‘Er, thanks… I think. You’re not gonna pour more soup on me are you?’

    ‘Oh heavens no HERO! That was but a slip of the hand, truly it was! Now, lets set about getting you a starter hm? I have just the one ideal for you! Come come! This way please!’

    ‘It better not be singing or in a stew pot,’ Nick grumbles gingerly following the older man in a wary step, juuuust in case who knows what happened next and more so after his seemingly miraculous recovery.


    Perhaps such fears includes actions such as Professor Chestnut performing a killer Egyptian dance as he slides skilfully over to the dramatically rising computer? Wires splaying everywhere with various fizzes and crackles before docking with a satisfying oomph.

    Of course the smoke lights are really dust shifted by the movement by why spoil such a majestic opening.

    ‘Oh my, that always works so well! You see, HERO this computer is fairly old being from 98 so needs a little assistance to bring it back into use! I keep it under the floorboards to stop myself causing it to crash when I go about my lab! Right, lets see what I have left shall we?’ the Professor glees with a clap before zipping over the keyboard with electronic gibberish of pressing random keys over and over.

    ‘Uh, okay… That makes sense, sorda… Not,’ the younger grumbles before rubbing his temples with his hands to try and deter the brewing headache.
    ‘Are you sure that I’m not just imagining all this and I’m, like, gonna wake up any second in sheer relief? Mean you have one of the rarest Pokemon in existence, it’s blue and it talks so I’m starting to wonder a bit. Has to be that or I’ve gone insane somewhere without realising it…’ Nick sighs dejectedly before glancing up to the completely bewildered Professor and his first mate sitting on the computer corner.

    ‘Mr. Pokeball, we are not a dream are we?’ queries the surprised looking Chestnut still eyeing the trainer before him.

    ‘Oh no, sir! Not at all! That would be such a boring fate to lead… Arr yes, there is so much time and more to do by the second!’ the Mew nods, satisfied with his prognosis.

    ‘Well given your psychology degree I feel the desire to agree! Does that satisfy you young HERO? Why of course it does! Come look at this giant screen now and you’ll see your new friend!’ Chestnut clamours in joy once more giving poor Nick not a chance of a word in before rattling up the keyboard again.


    Sighing once more, the new trainer walks closer if sneezing a bit from dust and glances up to the gigantic screen.

    ‘Wait, isn’t that a Horsea?’

    ‘Why yes it is, HERO, you certainly know your stuff!’

    ‘Aren’t they kinda, illegal?’ he asks a little nervously.

    ‘Oh no, no you misunderstand! It’s the scales that had that happen! Oh that ghastly drugs trade ruins so much does it not? But then the ban was largely because the scales are so sparkly in warm light, dazzling in fact!’

    ‘So it’s covered in illegal scales, great. Anything else I’m gonna be subjected to?’

    ‘Did I mention this little lady also suffers from multiple personality disorder? Mental illness gets around the ban and it just seemed such a shame to cook the little darling!’

    ‘Now I’m questioning if you’re the insane one instead,’ with a contorted look to accompany his eeew sounding voice.

    ‘No good sir you be wrong, my wooden toe and I would refuse to work with the clinically insane! He is the greatest mastermind to ever clamber into such an oversized coat I do so say!’ Mr. Pokeball cheerful replies with a nod.

    ‘Look, can I just have it and go already? I er… wouldn’t want to keep you from, er, working?’ answers edging away from the still skirted Mew, for all he knew the craziness may be contagious.

    ‘Certainly dear HERO, here, you press that bright red button in front of you and you can meet your new grandest of friends!’ claps the happy Professor grinning so widely only a certain Cheshire could possibly hope to rival.

    ‘This one? Geez, how the hell did I not notice..’ he grumbles before gingerly pressing his hand down with an interesting bloop noise.


    The dated machinery starts to whirr with the clinky clank of cogs and grating buzz of rusting machinery as it chugs into more motion. Though it starts to vibrate pretty rapidly causing Nick to back away in case of environmental collapse though oblivious Chestnut remains staring at Nick with that touch of creepy grin.

    With a cough and a splutter the machine then dies into a soft whirr as an unusually blue n’ white Pokeball ascends from a random panel near the now dulled button, complete in a fish tank before thudding to a halt.

    ‘I didn’t want her to dry out you see!’ Chestnut nods knowingly,
    ‘Would be tragic, turn to ash and die I swear!’

    There’s another, what the hell…? Expression on poor Nick’s face as his eyes the new arrival, hand held aloft ready to defend from who knows what.

    ‘…wouldn’t that fry the Pokeball? And why’s it blue, they’re usually red aren’t they?’ he asks with a confused expression as he carefully pokes the fish tank with a fingertip still very wary that the glass may explode at any moment.

    ‘Hm? Oh no, good sir! This is brand new technology the dear Professor here has created! It allows water Pokemon to have water in with them so they feel oh so much more comfortable! This little cutie broke out once and as we did not want such horrible incidents we made preparations for her release!’ Mr. Pokeball nods sagely like a Churchill figure.

    ‘I guess that makes sense, not,’ the younger mutters before sticking his hand into the freezing water to fish out his new adoptee.

    ‘Damnit that’s cold!’ Nick whines, swiftly grasping the ball before plonking it onto the computer for furiously rubbing his arm back into warmth on his shirt.

    ‘Why dear HERO, you do look a slight shade of blue! Mr. Pokeball, do you think you’re at all related?’

    ‘Oh no I’m afraid, all my relatives are coloured like skittles in the rain!’ Mr. Pokeball answers apologising profusely for the confusion he may have caused.


    Right now I’ve got, her? If you’ll excuse me I wanna set off while it’s still daylight. Mean I’ve been wasting your timefFor a while now and I’m sorda excited for my journey or something I guess? And I wouldn’t want to keep bothering you mid weird conversation after another…’ the hero asks stealthily edging away with the ball in his hand.

    Really, all the rude boy wants to run out the second he could and get away from these freaky people he never even realised lived in his town.

    ‘Oh certainly, HERO! I must apologise for keeping you from your grand quest! But before you leave, we have a present don’t we Mr. Pokeball? As a thank you for using our services and not going to that hick Professor across the road!’

    ‘Yes little sir, here you are. ‘Tis a bag full of supplies for your journey! I put you in a packed lunch and drink, a few Pokeballs, a few phone numbers, some mysteriously branded money and a map! I don’t believe I’m forgetting anything… Don’t mind the advertising logo on the front pocket, that’s just our way to help lower costs!’ The Mew answers with an innocent wave before handing over the hulking black rucksack.

    ‘Wow that’s actually pretty thoughtful, thank you!’ Nick answers as he carefully takes the bag from the floating Pokemon’s paws. And truth be told it as nice, he expected them to do something like give him a Blastoise shell for good luck…

    ‘Oh no problem, HERO! You were ever so polite to us after all! Now we bid adieu, good-bye and good luck! We shall be watching for you on the magical colour box for updates of your travels!’ Chestnut giggles before waving dramatically despite his latest aide is no more than a metre from himself.

    ‘Yes, sir! Please call us as often as you like!’ the Mew chitters before waving himself.

    ‘All right… Thanks!’ Nick glees slightly as he waves back before heading for the door outta the lab and far far away from the two insane people on top of a hill near his house.


    *Professor Chestnut probably meant River Dancing and just worded it weirdly…
    Ruler of the Fics.


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  12. #12
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    Not gonna bother digging out all the typos, that's a bloody spellchecker's job.

    Once again, things go from weird to...pardon my italian, completely fucked up.

    The fact that Horsea isn't a conventional starter gives you a bonus cookie, and the fact that Chestnut is a nutcase along with Mr St...Pokeball makes me thank the gods that I don't live there. I can only imagine what the rest of the cast are like.

    *imagines*

    NO! This message will garble within a few minudsjdbcfg,fdmj gyisjytfjkdbtn

    Anyways, good chapter that verges on Mary-Sue.


    I reject your Nyancats and replace it with my own.
    FB

  13. #13
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    Jun 2007
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    Mr. Pokeball FTW. Just had to get that out of the way.

    I've been meaning to read this for a while, I'm glad I did. The style for this reminds me of some of Klaus's older fics, which were some of my favorites. The amusing tangents the narrator goes on never fail to get a chuckle out of me. It's bizarre, but in a hilarious way. Reality just gets in the way, doesn't it?

    ‘Aye sir! Such a plausible idea you have it sends shivers down my wooden toe it does!’ Mr. Pokeball agrees waving his spoon as though a jabbing sword albeit far more blunt but no less striking fear into the hearts of many men.
    I think I could quote anything Mr. Pokeball says. I just love how you can go from waving a spoon to striking fear in the hearts of many men in one sentence. XD

    Of course in this state he completely misses Mr. Pokeball’s return now mysteriously in a hula skirt and the afore mentioned suntan lotion in paw.
    Aha, this is the hula skirt you were talking about. Just...wow. :P

    The dated machinery starts to whirr with the clinky clank of cogs and grating buzz of rusting machinery as it chugs into more motion.
    That made me laugh for some odd reason.

    I'm glad I finally read this, definitely put a smile on my face. Very nice job here, I really enjoyed it. *waits two years for the next chapter*

  14. #14
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    Sep 2008
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    0_0 Wow...
    This thing scares me. It almost made me die from laughter.
    God, I'm SO glad I've never been anywhere remotely like that...
    Wait, did the professor say other professor across the road? You mean, If Nick had gone to the other side of the road, he would have gone to a normal professor? Bad Luck...
    "Open your mouth too wide, and your ears close."

    Do you wish you could do things like in the anime?
    Do you wish you could dodge behind a rock to avoid an attack?
    Do you wish that you could use the arena to stop your opponents cold?
    If you answered yes to any of those questions, the Pokemon Anime Style Battling League could be for you!

  15. #15
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    Jan 2004
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    The fact that Horsea isn't a conventional starter gives you a bonus cookie, and the fact that Chestnut is a nutcase along with Mr St...Pokeball makes me thank the gods that I don't live there. I can only imagine what the rest of the cast are like.

    *imagines*

    NO! This message will garble within a few minudsjdbcfg,fdmj gyisjytfjkdbtn
    Nick could be the only sane one, he might not be. But not everybody will be the same as Professor Chestnut, that'd be boring. Mr. Pokeball is bound to make further appearences though since he can teleport after all... Thats worrying.

    Anyways, good chapter that verges on Mary-Sue.
    Though I note the irony of that statement, any reason it's verging? Curious and slightly confused Oo

    And Mr. Pokeball is just plain awesome in general

    Wait, did the professor say other professor across the road? You mean, If Nick had gone to the other side of the road, he would have gone to a normal professor? Bad Luck...
    It depends. Chestnut could have been lying and it's really a normal Professor. Or he was telling the truth and the other guy is a country hick whom thinks he's a Professor and has Grumpig in the yard... You never knoooow.


    Thanks for the comments. Am working on Overdose next which is my more normal writting.


    Sandra
    Ruler of the Fics.


    I'm pretty busy right now so if you need to get hold of me PLEASE PM. I'll get the email notification a lot faster.

  16. #16
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    Jan 2005
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    Poor Poor Nick.

    I knew thee well.

    Though granted, how can one think this is Mary Sue; when the guy isn't getting the shiny Mew, and said shiny Mew is quite obviously insane O.o

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