To end this weekend's storm of chapters, i present to thee...
Chapter 7: Return of the Non-Collateral Fruit Basket
Eff Ecks stood over a balcony of a tiny, undefined blimp lingering over the remains of a city beneath him. Far below, he saw three figures running to the remains. He chuckled.
“How shall they help, I wonder?” he mused to himself. “All my troops are using their Pokémon for top marks.”
He turned to a small mechanical orb floating beside him. It was made of two hemispheres conjoined by a short cylinder slightly thinner than the other two sides. A propeller protruded from its back, enabling it to fly. A red, glowing eye was the only blemish on its surface.
It was truly a marvel of science. There were thousands, probably more, down far below him, but they were battle hardened with many a scratch and most used jet propulsion. Aside from the multitude of weapons stored away on the ones below, they were nearly identical.
Turning to his commandant drone, he decided to propose a question. “How do you think they’ll fare? I give them about five minutes. Regardless, set all Them to attacking them.” The commandant gave what seemed to be a sharp nod and hovered just off the balcony. Unable to endure the cold for much longer, he walked back into his chambers.
There was an assortment of broken drones lying around. He had been ordered to scrap them, but so far as he was concerned that was unnecessary. Surely, it would be a waste.
Thinking back to his first day here, how he marveled at these, he had fallen in love with the job. These machines, these drones, were half Pokéball, and half soul. When They died, their souls were left to linger about. Someone finally put this to use by combining it with a Pokéball, which effectively poisoned the Pokémon’s mind, giving complete control to said spirit. A risky business, but a great one.
His thoughts were soon interrupted, however, as a thunderous crash came from outside. The commandant drone was nowhere to be seen. Another quake shook the blimp.
Then another blimp came shooting through his, where it parked.
A man in a sharp white suit, topped with a matching white fedora with green jewel, stepped off the ship. Curly hair hidden beyond his hat, he gave a gleeful smirk.
“My name’s Rick. I see you’re having yourself a little adventure here,” he said, teeth shining unwholesomely. “What a shame I have to stop that.”
The three ran as fast as their heroic legs could take them as Pokémon, as well as their carnage, came into view more closely. As they passed through the outskirts of the city, many Pokémon they could care less to remember their names passed by. A rhinoceros made of earth. A bell of Psychic ingenuity. Those crappy shiny Graveler. All spooky, though obviously not paranormal in any meaningful way.
They still had no idea where they were trying to go, or why, much less what they were going to do once they got there, but Zub’s Clichedprotaganitis prevented them from using common sense.
“How do you suppose,” sneered Eff Ecks, “I should kill you then?” Priming a Pokball behind his back, he instantly thought through several thousand directions this battle could go. Being not the True Author, but rather merely an FX guy, he was limited to his control over this battle. He could, however, make attacks hurt more with vividness, he supposed. He now had a plan.
But his plan didn’t prepare him for Rick’s next action.
Using a pile of discarded springs for momentum, he made an enormous leap…. right into Eff Ecks’ chest.
Think back to Chapter 6, where the thought of having a bovine crash into you was proposed.
Now think of having an adult male, weighing in just under that amount, using all the forces of momentum and G-force to crash into you, a defenseless human.
That would hurt too, as Eff Ecks would say upon being asked.
Eff Ecks was running out of options. All his thoughts were lost in a flurry of pain and emotion. Then he remembered his coup de grace, his trump card.
Each commander and admin of Their Army was entrusted with a single sacred Pokémon that would be carried by their commandant that suited their personality. Though it hadn’t made much sense at the time, he now knew why he was given what he was. Finding his commandant lying on the floor, he picked it up and hurled it at the ground.
It was beautiful.
A hulking behemoth of iron spawned in a flash of red. Its smooth, perfect, armoured flesh was only marked by six red dots in a strategic pattern. All of its limbs were coated in an extra coating of shiny, pure iron.
Registeel was awakened.
Zub and crew ran hard. They were almost at the heart of the ruined city now. Many of the spheres had flown off by now, taking a multitude of Pokémon with them. People were beginning to leave the safety of their homes. It was only then when horror truly entered their hearts.
A large serpentine, emerald-coloured dragon occupied much of the sky. Its brilliant green scales reflected the light in a multitude of colours, giving its appearance bathed in a rainbow of fury.
“Mr. Mm,” muttered Death, “If you can hear me, this is not that anticlimactic dragon. This is something else entirely, therefore not counting.”
It was then that the Pokémon dived and Zub slipped into a coma.
“Wait, what?” asked Zub. “I just randomly fall into a coma? That seems more of a contrived plot device then stumbling onto a ruined city.”
“Hey!” the Author shouted, materializing next to him. “You made me feel sad.”
He was wearing a purple and blue bodysuit, and while looking rather fresh and sheen it still emanated pure power. His blue eyes seemed incredibly perceptive, as though nothing could hide from them. Wild auburn hair topped off his appearance.
“Erngh, where’s that Nob? He was supposed to tell you something useful.” The Author shook his head. “Anyway, I’m the Author, and my assistant Rock Rickrick, has gone in search of Nob.” Shaking his head once more, he finally decided on something. “I suppose I have to tell you it myself. But first…. Cliffhanger!”
The metal monstrosity charged at the suited avenger, who nimbly leapt away to a small overhang overlooking the area. Smiling with sheer joy, he leapt off to face off his hulking opponent. Picking up a chair, he swung with all his might straight at the golem’s face…
Only to no avail. Dismayed, he did a backflip as the titan swung at his face.
SHOCK WAVE INITIALIZING, Registeel said with a short hum. INITIALIZATION COMPLETE. A wave of electrical current spread throughout the air, of which Rick was only to barely avoid. Good thing his suit was made of plastic.
Gritting his teeth, he drew a broadsword and attempted to rush his opponent. The golem, however, realized what he was doing and swung at just the right moment to parry and throw him to the ground.
“If you had underwear,” Rick said angrily, scooping himself off the ground, “And a butt, I’d pull your underwear… right up your butt.” Registeel, ignoring the comment, slowly marched towards him.
“You,” said the Author dramtically, “are the-“ he was soon interrupted by a lanky man with a top hat, who marched in.
“No such luck, sir.”
“Are you kidding me? That lazy slouch as been gone all week!”
“A week hasn’t passed since his last appearance, sir.”
“Can we just get on with it?” groaned Zub.
“Nope,” said both of the two Authors simultaneously.
“Well, will you at least tell me what’s so important?” asked Zub grumpily.
“Oh, right. Well, the moment’s gone…” The Author sighed. “Fine. You are a Dragon Warrior, a race of people with Clichedprotaganitis that are good with dragons and blah blah blah.”
“Oh, and sir…” Rick muttered unhappily.
“There’s been a plot hole found.”
“Yup, You know what that means, right?”
Ignoring that, the Author turned to Zub. “It appears someone has breached the plot, and I’m afraid I know who it is. He just would never leave me alone after I rejected him as a character.” The Author shook his head sadly. “Now go, before you become mincemeat.”
Zub reappeared in the real world as all drama was lifted away. Somewhere, a boombox blasted loud cha-cha music. “Oh no,” groaned Death.
Rayquaza rushed ever closer.
So did the music.
As did Rayquaza’s rider, a man in a zest yellow disco suit with an overbearing wig designed to look almost like a Pokéball.
“Oh no,” agreed Ran.
Last edited by Zibdas; 19th June 2012 at 7:02 AM.
Good chapter, though I'm sure the next one is going to be tens of thousands of times better.
Chapter 8: The Curious Case of Mirorenza Bartholomew
Ran watched in muted horror as he watched the zestily dressed tall man leap off the emerald-shaded dragon.
Death watched in muted horror as said man turned off his boom box and gave a smile of teeth shining pure white.
Zub watched in confusion as the man hummed his own apparent theme song and broke out into dance with another smile.
The trio watched in mixed emotions as he did an odd swaying of hips that made his torso go around vertically, like a clock. When his enormous afro touched the dragon Rayquaza, it disappeared in a flash of red light. His afro shook three times before spraying out an array of stars.
“No way,” inhaled Death, “His afro is a built in Master Ball?!”
With a mock salute, Miror B flashed another smile. Just in case, he brought another one, followed by another in case his point wasn’t made ambiguously clear.
“Ladies, Gentlemen, … and Death,” he said with a slight nod to the crowd. “Your party has arrived!”
Rick, meanwhile, was having less of a party then he was used to. He had hummed himself an adventuring tune, and thought it was a good one. “DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN-DA-NA-NA-NA-NA-DUN-DUN-PLAYING BY OUR OWN RUUULES DUN-NA-DUN-DUN FIGHTING GOLEMS OF METAAAAAL DUN-DUN-DA-DUN-NA”
It was really good when conveyed into musical format. However, due to the excess budget used up on wicked ice cream socials, we do not have time nor money to give the readers proper enjoyment and full entertainment.
Rick hurled his fourth chair against the monster’s shiny body. For the fourth time, it bounced off. Somewhere he heard the hum of… something.
He looked at the mechanical behemoth hulking towards him, swinging arms with rage. Cold, calculating eyes-spots pierced through him.
That wasn’t it.
Something hummed again.
He looked over at Eff Ecks, triumphantly shouting unintelligible commands at the golem.
That wasn’t it either.
Something hummed once more.
It grew steadily louder as what appeared to be the hull of a rather large pirate ship crashed through the blimp’s hole.
That, guessed Rick, is probably it.
“Sorry!” called out the Author from the Crow’s Nest, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “We’ve had a bit of a breach in the plotline, and Rick and I are having trouble making it nonexistent.”
Rick Rickrick, donning a complete pirate captain’s garb, appeared from behind the wheel. “I think we’re making it worse, too, sir.”
“Sh! They’re not supposed to know about that!” hissed the Author, a faint touch of colour tapping his face.
“I mean, uh, just kidding!” shouted Rick Rickrick unhelpfully.
“So you’ve lost control of the storyline?!’ roared Rick, the adventurer.
“Momentarily, yes. By the way, your blimp seems to be falling at a speed of….” He paused and licked his lips. “Three hundred millimeters a third of a second,” he noted to Eff Ecks, who had been strangely quiet the whole time.
“CENSORED CENSORED CENSORED THINK OF THE KIDS, MATE!” yelled a stove who had been inconspicuously following Eff Ecks ever since the plot was torn open.
While you were distracted with pirate ships and stalker ovens, you, my dear reader, have seemed to miss quite a bit of fun.
Zub, Derpy Moos, and Ran lay piled in a heap, barely conscious, Death sulking in a corner.
“Hur-RAH!’ yelled Miror B., “For off-screen takeovers!”
He triumphantly strutted over to the pile of his now half-dead enemies. “Tsk, tsk. You’ve met a terrible fate, haven’t you?” he laughed maniacally, realizing he quoted nightmare fuel. “T-tropes will hate me for all these references,” he tutted to himself.
“Woth you heap ‘o’ failsacks out of the way, I shall just have to… uh, do something.” He thought, confused, to himself for a moment on what he would do. Nothing came to him. “Ah well,” he sighed, as a long pole extended out of the top of his afro. Two helicopter rotor blades began to poke out of it, when the whole thing began to spin.
“I bid you farewell,” he said airily (bad pun bad pun get it out auuugh) as he slowly rose into the air, guffawing with still a vicious dance cycle.
Flying through the air, a thought came to him. “This author sucks,” he said, an evil scheme formulating in his massive afro.
Meanwhile, Rick, Rick, the Author, and a very perturbed golem and master combo were combating an army of ninjas.
“Why, oh why,” moaned Eff Ecks, “Does this story have to be clichéd even after the main character is defeated?”
The army of ninjas fought fiercely, but they were quickly disintegrated faster than a paper in the middle of a meat grinder on fire. However, there were still an overwhelming horde of ninjas left.
“This sucks,” said the Author. “Hey! That should be the story’s catchphrase, since it’s not only apparently accurate but quoted so many times as well!” A live studio audience laughed to a rimshot. The Author bowed in gratitude before being sucked back into the fray.
Then, everything as they knew it exploded.
Quite literally this time.
To a metaphorical degree that’s literally metaphorical.
It creates quite the watermelon, aye?
Okay, what the author is trying to poorly convey is that the entirety of a blimp, an airship, a pirate ship, a metal golem, some people, a horde of ninjas, and a putted fern all exploded upon making contact.
With the heroes.
“Oh SNAP!” yelled out Miror B. with a slight wave over his shoulder. This was quite the fun day for him. First, he actually managed to break into the story. Then he caught a shiny snake thing. He also apparently killed three of the Authors Five and the three maincharacters, an-
He killed, apparently, three authors.
This meant there were three positions open.
Grinning evilly, he realized this sent his plans into fruition much earlier than anticipated.
“Dead for the second time, are we?” asked Karate Guy Nob aimlessly as he sharpened his fingernails with a battle axe with only a dismissive glance to his new dead friend.
“Apparently,” groaned Zub, aching all over. He stretched tentatively, realized nothing was broken, then resumed stretching with more vigor. It did nothing contributive.
“Well, looks like you’re stuck here until another stupid plot device co- oh, speak of the devil,” he muttered as Death burst into the room of nothing.
“Zub, my living friend now deceased! How you holding up?” he asked, apparently aware of Zub’s sores. He nodded apprehensively, looking Zub over critically. “You’re sort of beat up,” he noted.
“Well, gee, I’m only dead!”
“We can fix that. Right now we just need to fix that-” he said, gesturing absently towards a large, evil looking vortex. “And save the authors.”
“Don’t worry, it won’t be. You see, authors don’t die; it’s a rule of thumb that they respawn somewhere else. We just have to track them down…”
“Sure, not like I got anything better to do anyway,” muttered Zub.
“…and defeat Them and Miror B. Also, save the world, of course… but I suppose that’s a given?”
“Might as well be,” groaned Zub as he prepared himself. “All right. Let’s go grab Ran and skedaddle out of deadness.”
Looking critically at the two replicas he had created, Miror B realized something was wrong.
He multiplied them by fifty each.
That solved that problem, he thought.
The original two began to stir. They looked and acted like his original incompetent minions, which, he supposed, was a mixed blessing.
“So, anyway, Miror B was all, ’Hey look at my afro there’s a chipmunk in it’ and I’m all ‘No way brah that’s pretty sweet’ and he goes ’Yeah an-‘” Trudley began until he was cut off by the sudden realization that a) he was not in the Choo-Choo Diner where he last was and b)his employer was right next to him.
“Miror B.!” cried out Folly happily. “Before we begin, I have a question…”
“What does Miror B. mean?”
“Well, actually,” he admitted, embarrassed. It’s short … something, but Miror B. looks and sounds like Mirror Ball, so it’s all cool." He watched as his minion’s jaws dropped. Looking them over severely, it was interesting to note how little they had changed.
Trudley wore his iconic beanie with two oddly placed hemispheres protruding from it, almost as if to mimic midget, fat bunny ears. Green, messy hair poked out from underneath, and copper goggles protected his eyes from view and a vibrant orange vest covered a blue sweater.
Folly had a pair of luminescent blue goggles on, and spiky fiery hair that jutted out of his head. He too wore a blue sweater, though the sleeves had long since been torn off. The two made quite an interesting sight, but no more so than fifty of each.
Miror B. flashed an infamous smile at his army. It filled his heart with rainbows.
Now all he needed was something to do with them.
“Sir,’ asked a Folly in the back. “What should we do?”
“Uh,” he said wisely. “Um. Well.”
His afro shook, and then a disco ball rotating on a long stick came out of the centre.
“Dance, of course!”
Suddenly Zub had the most inexplicable thought to dance. He tried to ignore it, but it bested him and he started doing the worm. Glancing over he caught Death doing the Sprinkler and Ran the Robot.
“What’s happening?!” screamed Ran, mechanically moving.
“Well,” said Death simply. “The author’s an idiot.”
Somewhere, somehow, amongst his amazing dance party, Miror B. felt a disturbance.
Someone…. Someone had insulted his choice to dance. His shades began drooping into a more mischievous glare as the ends burst into flames. His suit slowly but surely devanced into a purple, open-chested type suite that seemed much more evil.
He was, officially, angry.
He thought it was about time to test his true powers, but then he felt another disturbance.
A much worse one.
This disturbance seemed to slap him in the face, to spit right in his eye. It laughed and then suck a horribly off-key song and danced on the wrong notes to the song.
He realized what it was, and loathed it.
Surely it had followed him, though he thought he escaped it long ago. But this… was terrible.
Something had to be done.
“Minions!” roared Miror B., still dancing. “Execute Order sixty-s- I mean, Mirakle Extermination!”
Last edited by Zibdas; 19th June 2012 at 7:12 AM.
I'm really sorry I haven't been reviewing this for a while, my exams have just started so I was getting caught up in revision. ;_; If I get behind with chapters again, sorry and I'll catch up when I have a bit less revision to do.
I really enjoyed the last three chapters, but I'll just do grammar/typo corrections for now. YAY MIROR B!!
Spoiler:- Corrections for Chapter 5:Bovinal Meany:
Spoiler:- Corrections for Chapter 6:
Spoiler:- Corrections for Chapter 7:
Spoiler:- Corrections for Chapter 8:
Originally Posted by Missingno. Master
And my authorish side must tell you that logic doesn't trump diddly in this story. Klang can fart. Plain and simple.
Alright, thanks! I'll get to those when I'm not... uh, busy. Yes, let's go with that.
Chapter 9: Mirakle Worker
A carboard cut-out of an explosion stood there as a small wooden sign saying “BAM” was dangled in front of it on a fishing line.
The Author facepalmed. “What happened here?”
He looked through his hair. There were a few grizzly bears and some Mexican immigrants,
That wasn’t it.
He checked his underwear, and found a tagline rating them as M for nudity. Nothing out of the ordinary there.
He checked his body suit’s chest pocket. In it, the Animation Guy was siting quietly, bong in his lap.
That was it.
“Yo, animation guy!” he sighed with the absence of a response. “Annie May Shion! Annie!” he yelled like this for several minutes until finally Annie turned around.
“Hey broseph, the broster, broskillini, the big… banana!” he giggled himself quietly to sleep.
“Yeah, uh… What happened to the animation?!” roared the Author.
“I thought it would be better suited for better suited things…” Annie giggled to himself. “Suits,” he said philosophically before howling with laughter.
“So, you mean, you wasted our animation budget on drugs?!”
“Heh heh… ‘Drugs’ is ‘Fillymandellaforzealousfrancaistomanjalasgur d’, minus the ‘Fillymandellaforzealousfrancaistomanjala’,.. heh heh”
“Frustrated, the Author realized the fic had spent almost half a page on a completely irrelevant basis, which he knew was abd.
And then he realized he was supposed to be hidden away and barely alive after being reincarnated, so he resolved to let the matter drop.
Elsewhere, a man in a flexible yellow body suit ran furiously. His white helmet and dazzling visor obscured his face as his scarf flew out behind him as he ran.
“It’s time to rightfully success!” he said, hoping that made sense even if you didn’t put to much thought to it.
Suddenly he found himself face to face with what seemed to be a skyscraper with a Pokéball shaped afro, and then he was in what seemed to be the topmost floor of said skyscraper.
“Come to success me, eh?” asked his once employer skeptically.
“Success you I have come,” confirmed the newcomer.
“Good.,” said Miror B. “Then I am justified.” With one last puzzled look, the newcomer flew out the window as though an invisible gale cannoned him out, where he then spontaneously combusted.
“Good,” clapping his hands together, Miror B turned around and flashed a smile. Now we can dance!”
This was not to be, as Mirakle B. crashed back through the window and unignited.
“This is more trippy than the time I fell asleep with my head stuck in a toilet and krpt flushing it,” recalled Miror B.
Doing a backflip back onto his hands, Mirakle B. readjusted his visor. “Ow,” he said wisely.
“Good,” said Miror B as the process repeated itself.
“…ow?” asked Mirakle B, not used to being lit on fire more than five times in a day. Having being lit on fire four times earlier from reasons irrelevant, this was quite the day for him.
“So uh,” asked Miror B, not used to using Author powers to kill someone who doesn’t die, “Now what?”
Death grinned. He wasn’t sure why, but he did.
Zub grinned. Since he cannot speak, we shall never know why.
Ran grinned as well, because the Head of Stalin had called him ‘red’ the night previously.
“You guys look stupid,” called out the Author, who then had a brick thrown at him because no one cared what he thought.
“Rick,” said Rick Rickrick.
“Why are we grinning as we walk down this dangerous mountain of where the Author is imprisoned?” asked Death suddenly. No one knew as they progressed forward.
Rick rubbed his head and stood up, rubble cascading around him. As a child, he had adored this city. Now it was little more than ash and ruins.
“I'll tell ya, it's times like this I wish I had a waist so I could wear all my black belts. Yeah, I'm a black belt. In pretty much everything. Karate. Larate. Jiu Jitsu. Kick punching. Belt making. Taekwondo... Bedroom.” It was only then that no pretty lady was around to hear him, much to his dismay.
Drawing out a grappling hook, he prepared to launch himself. But then he didn’t.
Realizing he wasn’t breathing, he looked down and noticed that a large metal hand was clutching his waste. Following the hand up the arm, to the shoulder, and to the body, six red dots glowered at him.
“Oh, come ON!” he yelled angrily, reaching for a makeshift weapon,. Finding none, he realized he had to resort to his grappling hook.
“Alright,” he grinned with an insane primal look in his eye. “Let’s play fun.” Taking a moment to prime, he launched the hook at a nearby building. Within a moment, he and his assailant were being rapidly yanked toward the source. Releasing at perfect timing, Registeel was flung off him into the rather odd steel wall.
“Oh no,” he muttered, beginning to run.
Behind him, Registeel had apparently absorbed the lot of the iron wall and fused himself into an even larger version of itself.
“REGISTEEL SMASH,” it electronically laughed.
“What a terrible impersonation,” Rick noted, having barely dodged another incoming attack.
“And then I was all, ‘Sharp bits welded onto… FLAT BITS!’” Miror B exclaimed as both he and Mirakle B fell into laughter.
“I don’t get it!” said Mirakle B, wiping away tears from the epiphany of laughter.
Miror B stopped laughing and straightened up. “Neither do I,” he said.
“So uh,” Mirakle B said. “I’m supposed to try to usurp you?”
“Apparently. You want to end my ‘reign of terror’ and become an author, yes?”
“Author? You mean you write books?”
“Uh, no? Author of this fanfiction?’
Miror B facepalmed.
Rick picked himself and stood wide-eyed at the massive golem standing far behind him, though quickly gaining ground. He knew he had to stop it, because without a trainer commanding it, it would most likely go on a rampage.
And that would interrupt his 5:30 Canasta recital. And that’s just messed up.
He looked around for some kind of leverage to stop the beast. He found one, realized it was stupid, and did it anyway.
Firing his trusty grappling hook at the top of a nearby skyscraper, with a sharp tug he brought it crashing down on top of the golem Pokémon.
Giving a sigh of relief, Rick rturned around and began the long walk home.
It was then that a large piece of skyscraper narrowly missed him by 3.14 inches, although irrelevant, it is an interesting coincidence that this created a large circle-based dimension the began to plight against all who wasn’t Rick, including themselves.
It was also then when he realized he had no hope.
Refusing to let that deter him, he ran straight for Registeel, allowing all six red eyes to glare emotionlessly at him.
It was a horrible sight, truly.
Buildings were beginning to light fire, explosions in the wake as Registeel recklessly hurled shrapnel and buildings across the area.
Particularly for a large machine, recklessness was hardly a helpful attribute.
Rick officially had a plan.
Well, not so much of a plan, but a detailed outline of a plan.
Not so much of a detailed outline as a basic outline of a plan.
Okay, he had a basic concept, which, while not being terribly helpful, was still a terribly good thing to have, especially when you’re fighting a 200-foot tall robot that had been sealed away for its tremendous power.
Well, at least it’s not Regigigas. THEN we would have a problem. Rick thought merrily.
His merriness was slightly deterred by another strew about skyscraper. “What a magnificent city,” he said to himself, then laughed. “Looks like anything can go right to the Houndoom!” Using his grappling hook to access the roof of one of the rapidly decreasing number of skyscrapers left standing.
Turning to face his opponent, Rick realized something.
It wasn’t there.
“That went impeccably well!” he said, laughing to himself and walking while whistling a little ditty he made up.
Then Registeel slowly put its hand on its head, and Rick realized where it had gone.
“So here we are,” whistled Ran. “Granite Cave.”
“So much for being across the ocean.” Death muttered as he transformed several Krabby’s arms into various flavours of churros.
“Plotholes that will be filled later, maybe. For now, we need to focus on saving Rick Rickrick, who has been reincarnated here.”
“Well,” said Death. “I HAVE been meaning to catch a Pokémon. Then I will name it Squishy and it will be my squishy.” Ignoring the disturbed stares of his teammates, he plunged into the darkness.
Right away Death used his powers to kill all the Zubats. Narrowly avoiding the large pile of corpses, they trudged onward through the dim light.
“I see… shiny!” Death exclaimed, running after the apparent shiny object. Ran and Zub followed close behind, determined not to lose him.
Running through the oppressive darkness, they encountered a groge. That would be problematic for all except Death, who merely walked across it as though it were solidified.
“Shucks.” said Ran miserably.
Death, on the other hand, was far too focused on the floating gems he had seen. Not only were they very nostalgiac for him, being one of his frist games, but he also adored the colour blue.
Holding up the ends of his robe so as to prevent them from getting holes or something, he chased after the creature, until finally the two were in a well-lit chamber at the back of the cave.
“Ping ping ping!” shouted Death hurriedly and the creature disappeared with a red flash into his stomach.
Opening his mouth with another flash of red, his Squishy was released back into the world. Taking out his gothic-themed Pokédex, he examined the creature.
SABLEYE, THE BEJEWELED POKMON. IT EATS JEWELS. IT ALSO HAS NO WEAKNESSES, MAKING IT AN EFFECTIVE FIGHTER.
Licking his lips, Death reabsorbed the Pokémon and turned around to come face-to-face with just about the prettiest mortal lady he’d ever seen.
“Hey there,” she said nonchalantly, priming a gun, a Pokéball, and a missile launcher at the same time. “Come die now.”
Last edited by Zibdas; 13th July 2012 at 10:30 PM.
Chapter 10: The Tenth Chapter
now in extended afro edition
“So… what did you say this was again?” asked Rick Rickrickrick nervously.
“A nun cage-fight with tanks,” explained the phantom simply.
“…And I can’t just, say, not watch?”
“If you do that we’ll have to call another author to replace you.”
“Hm…. which one?” Rick asked nonchalantly, trying to hide his terror.
“’Prolly Mr…. ah, Doubke-M, if memory serves.” Rick squeaked.
“Okay, I’ll watch…” he muttered. Once the shadow had left, he muttered, “Please get here soon, protagonists!”
This is an ideal time to take a break from reading, in your case, or writing, in mine, to explain a few things.
Properly known as Nun Witch Hunt Spectacular Smack-down-tacular Tanking Nun Duel to the Nun Death, nun cage-matches are an ancient sport typically used for torture, to prove how good your nuns are, or as a common college prank/bet.
The rules are simple; just have two nuns fight to the death, as their tanks, which are in this case giant robot nun avatars, do the second round during the first round. The final round consists of nuns actually controlling these tanks, provided the nun or the tank is still alive.
Due to this being a game of high sophistication played in the upper dimensions, the rules are constantly changed. There are three rules that remain untouched, however.
1. Do not talk about Nun Witch Hunt Spectacular Smack-down-tacular Tanking Nun Duel to the Nun Death
2. Do NOT talk about Nun Witch Hunt Spectacular Smack-down-tacular Tanking Nun Duel to the Nun Death
3. Consolation Prizes include death, old bananas, wharrgarbling lessons, death, consumption en masse, deaux ex machine, death, flabbergastion, and death.
Hence, one can find it rather easy to follow Rick’s distress.
Risck Schah, our friendly neighborhood adventurer, was also having a bit of a problem.
“Am I now?” he asked, confused.
He then looked behind him and noticed once more the hulking titan of machinery that was staring intently at him.
“Ah yes. We’ve been inactive so long I’d forgotten,” he laughed hollowly.
Warning! an unperceived plot point that is wholly irrelevant and shall not be explained for a long time is approaching. If this gives you nausea, queasiness, exploding diarrhea, loss of spines, mental injuries, transmutation, liquefaction, Aspirin, or any combination of the above, the following is not advised. Ask your doctor if this fic is right for you.
Registeel exploded, taking out much of the now-ruined Rustboro and surrounding areas out with it.
“Uh,” Rick asked.
“Oh, okay.” Rick replied, still confused though now feeling much better at yhe premise of not having to combat a giant monster of machines.
“Ho hum,” Ashleigh said fitfully. “Go fish.”
Death beamed at her. “I told you, you can’t alwaaays cheat Death. That one time being the one exception.”
“Oh contraire,” she said, long, lanky arms reaching over the table to reveal that all the cards were Gyarados. “I win.”
“Darn tootin’,” whistled Death. “And if I may ask, who’s the sluggish beast over there? He reminds me of a Machamp mixed with a Primeape sans any intelligence… on steroids.”
“Oh, Rath? He was damned, so he traded his soul to be the most primitive, effective, adaptable wall of muscle known to meat. You can call him Rath or Rog; bot are abbreviated titles.”
“And his full name?”
“Rath of God. He was only allowed to live once his soul was gone to condemn us all one day. He’s absolutely ferocious, and only I control him,” Ashleigh smiled serenely, exposing her features that struck her even further as a small girl, eight perhaps at most. This was all just an illusion; in truth she was ageless, having cheated Death in a game of Connect-4-ur-Life, a favourite pastime of Death in which people can get their souls back if they’re dead or die if they’re not.
Regardless, this new man was a mystery to him. So far as he knew, he was the only non-author that could exchange soul. And he was tight with the authors; not literally, of course. This did not make sense. Not that anything else did, of course, but this was his domain to screw around with, not some half-meated filly-man.
“Oh, right. Almost forgot,” said Ashleigh absently. “We need to kill you.”
Rath leaped up and charged toward Death, fists waving with such terrible power it caused the cave they were in to tremble slightly. Upon making contact, Death was sent backwards, flying.
“Ow,” he said, shocked. Most things that would touch him would die, which is why he would never become a gardener, much to his mother’s complaints.
Raising itself from the ground, a small chair protruded, rather painfully from the looks of it, out of its right shoulder. The unnaturally buff human seemed undeterred as Ashleigh jumped onto it, riding it like some kind of equine.
“Oh fiddlesticks,” Death said in a huff as he began to run.
Zub and Ran walked cheerily through the despairing cave.
“I’m still disappointed that you couldn’t catch your Beldum after the hiatus,” Ran said, bored. “That was most disappointing.”
“I mean really wh- AAAAAWHARRGARBL,” Ran cried after falling down a pit.
Zub nodded and followed.
Inside the pit, there was a horrible noise.
Also nun cage-matches.
“AiiiEEEEEEE!” shrieked Death as he ran past his cohorts, being followed by what appeared to Zub and Ran as a walking wall of flesh with a child controlling it.
They decided they would forget this little memory.
Stepping forward, it was a horrible site. One giant underground Colosseum, littered with various bones and robes, as well as half-dead nuns and tanks lying around. On the opposite side of the grandstands was Rick Rickrickrick, whom presumably could help them with finding the Author and ending this little myriad.
“CAN’T LET YOU DO THAT RAN ZUB, ” cried a familiar voice as a man in a swaying trench coat appeared before them.
“I cannot leave you too alone, always wandering around with each other… heh heh. But no more! I shall end you! Fufufufufu…” laughed Eff Ecks evilly.
“Why does he pronounce it like ‘eff-you-eff-you-eff-you’? Everyone knows it’s more of ‘foo-foo-foo-foo,’” Ran muttered as Zub prepared his Pokéballs.
“So… how are we going to destroy each other? My Pokémon are dancing, and yours are on vacation,” muttered Miror B.
“Let’s play a game,” Mirakle B. said as mysteriously as though he were a wooden figure.
“How about… Afro Mousetrap? You roll your dice, you move your mice, nobody gets hurt.”
“You’re so on. I rock at this game.”
Mirakle scooped up the dice that had appeared before him and slipped it under his helmet into his afro. Having what would appear to an innocent bystander as a seizure, the die was catapulted out, landing of 24.
Mirakle B. moved forward twenty-four spaces on the simulated giant board, knowing that a wrong move could cost him his life, though the correct one could lend him the entire world at his palms.
Miror B. plopped the die confidently into his own afro, and did several rounds of the Macarena, where it shot out the speed of a bullet, landing on 37. Dancing triumphantly forward, his success was impeded as a bird cage fell over him.
“This certainly put a damper on the mood,” Miror B. said thoughtfully, still vaguely shaking his hips.
Once more, Mirakle B. rolled the die, this time landing just one space in front of his former master. Doing a little victory taunt, he handed the die over.
Depositing the die into his afro and shaking it around, it came out as 16. “Enough of this! Afro Ch-ch-ch-ch-chop-CHOPPER!” With that, a large chainsaw came out of his afro and roared to life, savagely obliterating the cage before withdrawing back to the confines of the afro. Miror B. walked onward as though nothing happened.
Mirakle B., on the other hand, was thoroughly shocked and accepted the die with his mouth gaping. Popping it into his hidden hair once more, he had a sneaky plan of his own. “Afro Meaga-Launch, go!” A small hatchway opened up on the tip of his helmet, where a large esteem of fire with accompanying fireworks came out, unprecedented. The die flew out with them, touching ground with a solid 50. He smirked.
Undaunted, Miror B. picked up the die and twirled it around his ingers as an afro grew over it. “Weeee!” he exclaimed jovially as he hurled it with astounding might at his opponent’s head.
“Ow!” yelled Mirakle B., glaring at his rival. The afro slowly fell off, revealing that it had been rolled just the right number for them to be on the same space. Dancing with glee, Miror B. marched over to this spot.
“Afro…. SHOWDOWN!” exclaimed a bodiless voice originating from seemingly no where. The board dissolved into a large coliseum. Somewhere above them, they could hear two people screaming in horror, and a Pokémon fight. Around them, nuns disappeared into thin air and large robots were swallowed up into the ether.
“It ends here,” said Miror B. slyly, drawing a Pokéball.
“Yee- haw.” Mirakle B., drawing his own Pokéballs.
“Metang, use Scary Face to cripple it!” yelled Ran for Zub, who was pumped up on more than just action.
“Meta yang!” cried out the robotic Pokemon, pulling off a horrible face that one would think impossible with no facial features. Instantly, the jittery bug Pokmon was slowed down to a much more manageable speed.
It worked fine, master, commented the Metang’s powerful psychic ability.
“AHhhhhhh!” screamed Death, running through the middle of the battle.
“Vibrava, refuse to be deterred! Use Earthquake!” shouted Eff Ecks.
The earth rumbled.
Metang stared blankly at his offender, floating on the spot.
In a moment of sheer epiphany, logic finally came forward.
“Excellent!” shouted Ran in his partner’s place. “Now use Psychic and finish it off!” The poor bug Pokémon was enveloped by a purplish, foggy glow. Suddenly, all its limbs convulsed with sheer agony before the entire creature was slammed into a wall, crippling the surrounding wall and rending the Vibrava unconscious.
“Darn tootin’” whistled Eff Ecks, visibly impressed, face flush with slight embarrassment to the thought of having lost to such a minor kid. He brushed a hair out of his way and scratched the back of his neck, smiling sheepishly. Holstering another Pokéball, he did a small, wholly unnecessary victory taunt and threw the Pokéball.
Within an illustrious spark of red light, Eff Ecks’ third and currently final Pokémon came out.
“Yes, Woot! Finish them off!” the evil author cried wickedly.
The golden Magikarp flopped uselessly to one side.
At that moment, Eff Ecks’ poker face was one for the history books.
“I knew being a super noob wouldn’t help me…” he muttered inconsolably.
“Does that mean we win by default?” asked Ran.
“Karp karp?” asked Magikarp.
“Anyone intend to help me?!” cried out Death, still not giving up.
“No, yes, and no,” replied Eff Ecks after a moment of thought. “My Pokémon is still fully capable of fighting; watch this! Woot, use… uh… Splash!” In reply to this command, the golden fish flew up into the air.
It hummed with such an incomprehensible intensity Zub covered his ears in pain.
It shined with such brilliance Ran had to look away.
Death kept running.
It then began to appear as though it were everywhere at once, to which Eff Ecks had to huddle on the ground to avoid.
Suddenly, with a massive explosion of pure energy and light…
…Magikarp fell to the ground and flailed numbly. “Karp karp!” it said merrily.
That was rather anticlimactic, commented Metang telepathically.
Then Metang exploded, leaving no trace.
“Karp….? Karp karp! Karp!” cried out Magikarp, absolutely ecstatic with uncanny, oblivious happiness as it still had no idea what was going on.
Several moments later, Metang’s fainted body touched back down to earth at terminal velocity.
Zub made a rather constipated face and returned Metang back to the Pokéball it originated from. Expanding another one to full size, he threw it onto the battlefield, evaporating within a shower of sparks to reveal his beloved Derpy Moos.
Making a long scene of complex signs in ASL*, Zub commanded for Derpy to use its infamous Rollout attack. Obliging, the bovine Pokémon curled into a ball, slight rock crust forming around it, then charged full speed at the poor fish.
At the last second, Woot the Magikarp leaped into the air, then forced itself rather forcefully into Miltank, causing a great deal of damage to Zub’s Pokémon.
“Yeah! Woohoo! That’s MY fish, right there!” cried out Eff Ecks jubilantly.
Miltank, refusing to give up, plucked the fish from the ground, threw it back, then jumped on it several times.
Zub signed several synonyms for jubilant outcries through signing in sign language as congradulations. Or at least he did until Woot rose up from the rubble and flopped around again.
“Audino, finish him! Use Last Resort!” shouted Miror B. with a skip in his step, as the boom box hidden deep within his afro blared out his popular theme as Mirakle B’s helmet gadgets played out http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QywXbUQejw4]his own[/url].
“Sudowoodo, use your ~groovy~ Rock Throw to counter it!” shouted Mirakle B. giddily with a sharp hip-sway.
As Miror B.’s Audino coated itself in a swirling drill of light and threw itself towards Sudowoodo, the feaux tree uprooted part of its body and hurled it at Audino. The two attacks collided and, for whatever reason, exploded.
“Didn’t think that happened in real life,” whistled Mirakle B.
“So glad I quit being a gym leader for this,” agreed Miror B.
Taking the chance of distraction, Audino renewed her attack and charged at Sudowoodo while it was watching the ice cream truck that inexplicably drove by.
“Cheap shot!” called out Mirakle B. “You planted that ice cream truck there, didn’t you?!”
“Maybe,” said Miror B. as hail the size of a minivan fell upon his (late) rival’s face.
“Somebody better get that reference,” he muttered.
Derpy punched Woot. He punched it again. And again. And again. And again. And again.
The point that we’re trying to get across here? This fish would not die.
“This fish won’t die!” cried out Eff Ecks maniacally.
:This fish won’t die….” muttered ran, astounded.
“Karp karp karp!” shouted the Magikarp itself, which translates roughly to ‘I had the most amazing burrito the other day…’ which is wholly irrelevant but still interesting to note.
Finally the Miltank took a hard enough punch to send the jumping carp backwards into the wall.
“Ow,” cried out Magikarp. “I mean, uh, karp?”
“yaykarp,” said Eff Ecks numbly.
“He can talk?” asked Ran. “Seems like everyone can talk but you, Zu- I mean… uh… where’d he go?!”
As everyone’s attention was sifted back to the fish embedded into the wall, they noticed it glowing, where it then floated away.
“I’ll be back,” it cried ominously. “Just you wait!”
*ASL stands for American Sign Language, the sign language that is used in the United States.
Last edited by Zibdas; 13th July 2012 at 10:30 PM.
Hi there! I've been a closet reader to this for a while, and may I tell you, it's awesome. Seriously. It is just so random in the best way possible(like Zub meeting himself, or the random Miltank). I especially liked the Miltank one, because I did not actually have that problem because I had a female Lv. 28 Bayleef, who I did not cheat to get. Seriously. It evolved before I beat Falkner. So, yeah. I don't have any horrible encounters with Whitney. Or Miltank. Although Stomp almost ran me out of Super Potions. Well, anyways, awesome job, and keep it up! I'm surprised more people aren't responding to this.
Oh, and for the record. Eff Ecks. It is NEVER too early for cheesy puns.
Plus, no one knows this, and I'm supposed to keep it a secret, but I am a master of Kung Moo. No questions asked.
I have discovered what a signature is.
This is Bidoof. Many people loathe it with their lives. If you are of the few people who love this little beaver, put this in your sig. Started by Warrior Scolipede
I've claimed Castform. It will never rain on my parade.
Chapter 11: The Midget Prelude to the Next Chapter Which Won't Be As Short But Rather Long and Good, I Hope
Story Update time.
Miror B. and Mirakle B., two fabulous afro’d…. strike that, we have no idea what’s under Mirakle’s helmet. Regardless, they fought and Miror B. threw a minivan on his counterpart. Zub also freed one of the authors, defeating a mysterious passive-aggressive shiny Magikarp in the process. ‘Beating’ being the punchline here.
Having rescued Rick Rickrickrick, the Author’s assistant, Zub and his friends decided to goof off until they figure out where the Author is imprisoned.
“Hey guys I found out whe-“
“SHUT UP, MILHOUSE,” Ran said, making a horribly constipated face and writhing his arms around.
“Aren’t you supposed to be chased by a wall of flesh or something?” asked Rick, who had joined the party and was now relaxing on the beach they were sitting on. Nearby a town burned and citizens panicked. Zub was probably helping them, his stupid, inconvenient disease kicking in.
“No, they gave up after the thirty-seventh hour.”
“Who’s up for a game of Mousetrap?” asked Ran. “You roll your di,-“
“We get it and we know,” said Rick, hiccupping up the faintest smell of beer. “The Author clearly doesn’t know how to play, as seen last chapter.”
“Then what should we do?” asked Death. “We still apparently have a filletr chapter to cover.”
“Maybe we should all let our Pokémon free to have wacky adventures? We could-“ implored Ran.
“No,” said Death. “It didn’t work for the anime, won’t work here.”
“Huh,” commented Ran thoughtfully. “We should have an intellectual conversation on politics to pass the time.”
~~~~~~~10 Minutes Later~~~~~~
“DEATH NO,” screamed Ran. “PUT DOWN THAT BLOWTORCH.”
Death, whom was running while lighting several tourists on the beach on fire, broke his own skeletal neck and turned it all the way around just to look at Ran. His eyes filled with pure fire, and as if just to be rather anticlimactic, he ran into a sign promoting watching where you’re going.
Ran glanced by and noticed another, extremely square sign. “Warning,” he read aloud. “’This sign has sharp edges. Do not touch them.’ That seems rather… ah, what’s the word? I’m in a state of lethologica here! Oh, and Death…. Stop lighting the tourists on fire.”
Death made a face and destroyed a part of Lesser Sevii. Serves them right for being in only one game.
Rick, meanwhile, was lounging mercilessly in Zub’s hair. Being an author’s assistant granted him two freedoms; Free soda on weekends and the ability to be able to shrink to the size that would comfortably fit him in a pickle jar. Don’t ask why the second one is helpful; it comes in handy more times than one would care to admit.
Using this to his advantage, Rick sat atop Zub’s crown and yanked wildly at the meat-sack’s hair.
“No more soda for you!” cried out Ran desperately.
Meanwhile Zub was doing what appeared to be cupping water in his hands to attempt to douse out the fire. Rick was no help.
“Ugh,” muttered Ran. “Why am I the only sane one right now?”
The truth of the matter is that Ran is powered by Communism. The more Communism there is, the more powerful and crazy he is. As this was a strictly Capitalistic island, he was seriously toned down.
Miror B. twirled his fingers into his afro and pulled out a bootleg copy of Pokémon Colosseum, his own first true appearance. After booting it up in his Nintendo AfroCube, he purposely caused Wes to jump down a cliff and die.
He giggled in merry delight.
After attempting this as many times as it took to score him a game over, he shut off the console and moaned in boredom.
Take over the world without anyone noticing? Check.
Take over the fic without anyone noticing? Check.
Have the most deliciously scrutinizing afro in all of existence? Major check.
He got up and strutted his way to another corner of the round room he currently presided in.
“I’m booooored!” he cried, reaching for the book that mysteriously appeared before him. He scrambled everything around, hoping for some fun.
“OBJECTION!” cried out a man with what appeared to be a hedgehog for hair, as he stepped in from the roof. “That was…. objectional!”
“Who are you?” he asked, bewildered.
“Non-specific Wholly-Original Stereotypical Lawyer-Man,” he said proudly, waving around a flower-shaped badge.
“Hold it!” pronounced a deeper, more refined voice as a man in a dapper suit with matching cravat broke in through the floor and landed on the wall. He then pointed at the lawyer, who pointed back.
“OBJECTION!” cried the lawyer.
“OBJECTION…. ER!” replied the newcomer, who seemed to be a prosecutor, smugly.
“OBJECTION TIMES INFINITY!” exclaimed the lawyer, jumping on a desk that appeared from nowhere.
“OBJECTION TIMES INFINITY…. PLUS ONE!” yelled the prosecutor.
“Mooommmmmy! Non-specific Wholly-Original Stereotypical Prosecutor Ma- I mean, THING-“
“Hey!” cried the prosecutor.
“Wait a second! OBEJECTION TIMES INFINITY… SQUARED!” called the lawyer triumphantly.
“Oh no!” cried the prosecutor in horror.
“I’m baaa~aack~” cried an unfortunately familiar voice.
“Oh bother…” muttered Miror B., smacking his face.
“I am what I is,” said Mirakle B. simply. “Who are these people?”
Miror B. waved around dejectedly. “Your guess is as good as mine. Anyway, how are you still alive? Not to be rude, but still….”
“Future me went back in time to stop present me, but past me foresaw this and went forward in time to sto future me from damagaing present me. So, I stopped myself from killing me and so I gave myself a lollipop but then I tried to kill myself again so I had to stop myself but then I came and helped me beat me to the point of death, where I escaped to here.”
“If Miror B. had been blowing a bubble gum bubble, it would have popped in confusion.
“Anyway, I had to promise myself not to almost die again, and to use my ultimate attack on you.”
“OBJECTIONABLE!” cried the prosecutor from across the room.
“OBJECTIONABLY OBJECTIONABLE!” came the reply.
Mirakle B. gripped his helmet firmly. “AFRO-AFRO SECRET AFRO ATTACK…. AFRO-AFRO AFRO REDEMTPION!” with the misleading battle cry, he removed his helmet, exposing a gigantic afro concealed in, patterned to look like a Master Ball.
Before he had any time to react, the afro suddenly began to rapidly expand, throwing him into the wall, and pressing him into it.
The Author appeared before Zub and his crew, of which Ran, in a fit of sheer rage, had tied them all together and deposited them on a pirate ship.
“…where did you even get a pirate ship, much less a kraken, I wonder?” mused the floating Author. Ran shrugged.
“It was just there.”
The Author snapped his fingers, and it all disappeared. Rick ran forward and leaped into the Author’s coat pocket.
“Seems like someone got bored,” he said, looking far away into the distance.
With another snap of his fingers, a luxury cruiser appeared before them. They all clambered in for no apparent reason.
“You have to get to the Miror Battleship,” he said anxiously. “I myself must go now and do random stuff, but you! You must go and stop Miror B.!”
“Sadface,” said Death mournfully.
Adding to even the Author’s amazement, the entire boat transformed into a large mechanical human enigma of a large robot.
“Happy day!” said Death, running to the pilot’s seat with a skip in his step.
And I'm used to low amounts of feedback; I can't seem to attract posts, in any of my fics, haha. ^.^;;
*accidentally drops an anvil that randomly appeared out of nowhere, that smashes fourth wall*
Oh... Uh... *whistles inconspicuously*
Oh, and hooray for lawyers yelling "OBJECTION!"
This is Bidoof. Many people loathe it with their lives. If you are of the few people who love this little beaver, put this in your sig. Started by Warrior Scolipede
I've claimed Castform. It will never rain on my parade.
Chapter 12- The End to the First Miror B. Saga
THIS ONE'S LONGISH I SWEAR
“♫Communism, communism, weee!♪
♪Communist housing, communist… flower…uh…♫
♪♫Oh flower, commie flower, show your face, and I’ll… uh… sting you!♫♪”
Ran finished his song sadly. He realized that he wasn’t good at songwriting and frowned.
Seeing this, Death walked voer and decided to cheer him up. They couldn’t have a depressed member on their cruise-robot anyway; that would be stupid and a poor plothole.
“Why did Sally fall of the swing?” he asked, stifling a giggle.
“I don’t know, why?” asked Ran mopily.
“She had no arms!” Death and a nearby Derpy Moos broke into laughter. Wiping the tears from his eyes, Death decided to try again. “Knock knock.”
“Who’s there?” mumbled Ran.
“NOT SALLY!” exploded Death as he, the Sableye he accidentally released, Derpy Moos, and Tango the Metang fell over in laughter.
Unsurprisingly unintelligent, but will hear again. 10/10 Metang intoned gleefully.
Ran was saddened still.
“You can’t just throw me off the roboat for being sad by the lack of communism!” shouted Ran. Death sighed.
“I guess…” he mumbled, tossing Ran a life preserver. Leaving behind a trail of corpses in the ocean, Ran climbed in.
“I’m going to so kill you,” he muttered.
Death generically threw a hand in the air. “People keep saying that!”
“Any idea when we’re going to get out of this?” asked Mirr B. “We’ve only been here, oh I don’t know, FOUR DAYS!”
“Dawn of the new day,” came the muffled reply dreamily.
Insanely bored, Miror B. decided to make small talk after an unbearable passage of time had passed. “So, is this why you wear the helmet?”
“You know, I could beat it.”
“Oh?” Mirakle B. seemed genuinely curious.
“Yeah. I used to work in a resort, gorgeous, vegetation and wildlife everywhere, bustling cities… Then I used my Afro-Afro Inflation, decimated it all. It’s now a big desert…. small forest and mountain up north, and a canyon, but that’s it,” reminisced Miror B.
Mirakle B. whistled. “And that’s when I began creepily mirroring everything you did to follow in your footsteps and ultimately usurp your afroness.”
After another long pause, Miror B. had a brilliant idea. “Let’s team up!”
“What do you figure how-afro?” asked Mirakle B. confused.
“You’ll see. Mwahaha!”
“I’m in,” said Mirakle B.
“Alright, retract your afro and I’ll prepare the Miror Balbriggens whilst activating the Miror Belipotent!”
“Yes. Belipotent is to have military prowess, and it’s the name of my battleship. Balbriggens are a type of knitted cloth fabric that I love.”
“Why the Miror- prefix and the obscure B-words?”
“Goes with the motif my name creates, duh,” said Miror B. as Mirakle B’s afro slowly started deflating.
Zub, as much as he hated to, had to note that all was going unsurprisingly well. This was unprecedented by the fact that he, as the titular character, tended to get good luck, but so far, nothing happened.
This highly concerned him.
That was when he heard an explosion in the lower decks, which put him to ease as it was normality by now. Then it occurred to him, “I heard an explosion in the lower decks.” It was only then that he realized he heard an explosion in the lower decks, which could only mean one thing;
An explosion in the lower decks.
An explosion in the lower decks was terrible news. An explosion was bad enough, but in the lower decks was… ‘low’, so to speak. An explosion in the lower decks meant another thing; something exploded in the lower decks. It was therefore that the explosion in the lower decks could actually mean two things; a) an explosion in the lower decks, or b), the more likely one, Ran and Death were involved.
As Tango and Derpy, who were sent to the lower decks to see what exploded in the lower decks to cause the explosion in the lower decks discovered, their master was very much correct. Death had summoned various Capitalists and made them explode.
Lying around in a dazed blossom of unconscious business men whose names shalt not be named for fear of copyrighting their names was Ran, who was giddily giggling inaudibly.
Is he going to be alright? pondered Tango, who was immediately concerned.
“He will now!” said Death, who was inexplicably stuck to the ceiling. Noticing that he was inexplicably stuck to the ceiling, he tried and failed to pry himself off, then burst into another giggling fit.
Tango and Derpy looked at each other and nodded. They were surrounded by idiots, to quote a certain lion they had never heard of in a movie they had never seen in a parallel universe they had never subjectively clarified to the point of substantial existence eyond the parameter of moral discontent and digital watches.
They joined in on the fun.
“So, how are things going, boss?” inquired Mirakle B., who was, despite protests, excited for this, even if it did mean sacrifices.
“Fan-TABULOUSLY!” exclaimed Miror B., who twirled around on the spot. “The Miror Battleship is almost fully prepared!”
“Almost? What’s preventing it from finishing it?”
“The hostages,” Miror B. said casually, waving in the vicinity of five characters tied up and dangling from the back wall in the control ship.
“Since when did we have hostages?!” exclaimed Mirakle B., who was thoroughly surprised. Miror B. waved off the question.
“They came with the place when I bought it,” he shrugged.
“And you find nothing wrong with this?”
“They seem to be fine with it.”
“Mmhmm,” agreed the very relaxed looking quintet; one appeared to be a post-modernism punk, complete with dyed Mohawk, leather vest, and shady smirk; another, a girl of a darker complexion with flowers in her hair, sported only a wrap and a lengthened skirt; the next was a blonde, in a gorgeous aqua blue dress; there was what appeared to be a sailor, but he was apparently indignant about being tied up and had his back to the rest. The final, a man with silver hair and dapper clothing, smiled brightly and attempted to wave to Mirakle B.
“Any idea who these people are?” whispered Mirakle B.
“Should I honestly care? All I know is they pay for the electricity, bring their own beer, have health benefits, and have a vintage collection of Paul Baribeau vinyl records.”
Zub heard another explosion in the lower decks, which is really rather unfortunate as I hate typing “explosion in the lower decks” over and over again.
He tried to shrug it off, but after the fifth explosion in the lower decks he began to grow worrisome. Both Tango and Derpy had gone missing. Also Death and Ran might be in trouble but eh.
Zub kept steering, hoping for some new distraction, when a conveniently placed plot device in a dream came in knocked him out.
At least I can forget about the explosions in the lower decks, he thought merrily as he awoke to the world of his subconscious, of which he was now accustomed to.
Then life decided, “Hey. I thought we hated this guy. Why are we allowing him to get accustomed to something?!” and warped the dimension beyond all recognition. It became horribly dank, with bioluminescent gelatinous shapes embedded into the ‘walls’ being the only sources of illumination.
It was infinite darkness, everywhere. Except for the light, of course. To his shock, Zub realized he qualified for being part of the ‘light’. Also surprisingly, he realized he could talk.
“…whoa,” he said, something he never thought he would do. He took a deep breath.
“ohemgeethisissocoollikeijustwanttotalkforeversinc eicantyouknowthatjustmakesmesadnowtomuyimportantes tufflikehowdeathreallyshouldntbewearingskinnyjeans andhowranisannyinglydepressedandhowmirorbtotallyst olemylookandialmostforgot-“ he was ever so rudely interrupted.
“Shut. Up. Already!” cried another voice.
“Who are you?” said Zub extremely fast.
“Dubious. I don’t know,” he said thoughtfully. It was only then that Zub realized the newcomer looked impeccably like him, albeit wearing three ski jackets and a headlamp, not to even mention that he was covered in Christmas lights.
“I guess you could call this case rather Zubious!” crackled Zub as he realized instantaneously why Death liked making terrible jokes.
“Good idea,” the stranger pointed out. “Henceforth I shall go as Dr. Zubious.”
“That was sarcasm and a terrible pun,” pointed out Zub with melancholy. “After Eff Ecks, I’m just glad this one didn’t even try and top it.”
Dr. Zubious tensed. “Was that an explosion in the lower decks I hear?” he asked, grinning sinisterly.
Sure enough, another explosion exploded in the lower decks. Again.
“I should go,” mentioned Zub, making a series of complicated, empty hand gestures directing the general direction of darkness. Given that this was everywhere, it was rather complicated.
“Miksi pitää mennä? Emme ole koskaan nähneet toisiaan. Ollenkaan. Ever. Koska tämä on ensimmäinen kerta, kun tapasimme, se on melko lohdutonta, ei sanot?” asked Dr. Zubious, tearing up.
Surprisingly enough, Zub subconsciously understood him. “Así es como debe ser. Caray, que suena como una telenovela mi madre siempre vigilados.”
“Alright. I’ll see you soon,” winked the doctor as he faded out of existence and Zub woke up.
Rushing to the lower decks to see what caused the explosion in the lower decks to explode in the lower decks, Zub found all his cohorts and Pokmon embedded into various parts of a room. In the center of the room, in a large bonfire, were the bodies of a great deal of many capitalists, who, as Zub recognized, were all victims of explosions.
He gave them a blank look.
They gave them a blank look.
The alarm that gave off an unbearably loud screech screeched blankly.
It was then that it occurred to them to do something about the alarm.
“Hey,” said Death. “Wanna splode Capitalists with us?”
“And then there was the time me and the Space Pirates defeated the SPACE TENTAFOOL with our lasers! It was all PEW PEW and YIP YIP and then everything went BLAMMO and I was all WHOOOOOOA and then I-“
“Mirakle!” called Miror B. “Stop listening to the old sea-kelp spin his yarn and help me!
Reluctantly but obediently, the protégé went over to his boss. “Yo.”
“SHUT UP!” cried out Mirakle B. in horror as he turned to face an army of his exact duplicates.
“Put them in the giant jelly jars!” commanded Miror B. Obediently, Mirakle B. obliged.
Once locked in a glass jar, they removed their helmets and their afros began to swell enamorously.
“What.” said Mirakle B. simply.
“No, not what. Why.”
“Nom!” cried out the sailor.
“Yes,” agreed Mirakle B.
“No. No yes.”
“My brain hurts.”
“Ugh, for goodness’ sake.”
“So, uh, what exactly was the plan again? I’m afraid I didn’t quite catch why we were doing this. And why are my duplicates’ afros shaped like standard Pokéballs?”
Miror b. tapped his foot. “Well, DUH,” he said. “We’re dropping these jars in specific locations across the region. Then, they smash open, and the afros swell up, encompassing the area and reofriming it in the FABULOUS afro-image!” he finished merrily.
“I see. And where did you get this plan from?”
“Days of Our Lives.”
“We’ve only known each other directly for two weeks now.”
“No, the Days.”
“Wrong. You’re putting me in a daze.”
“Not daze, idiot! Days!”
“Days Days Daze?”
“Ugghugh,” moaned Miror B., facepalming.
“One more question. Where’s this Miror Battleship you keep mentioning?”
“Oh, that,” said Miror B. nonchalantly. With a wave of his hand to match the tempo of the groovy music he had playing in his afro, he clicked a button.
The island of Ever Grande City, the location they presided at, rose up into the air, curls of ocean still dripping off in monstrous tides. On the top of the island and the bottom equators, two very long poles made their wake snakily out, until they reached their maximum length. They then shot out a hemisphere of canvas each, which began unfolding more and more until it fully encompassed the island, making it appear like Mirpr B.’s afro. Then, from the confines of the borders shot out an array of cords, chords, electrical outlets, walls, rooms of varying use, and many more to that particular effect until the entirety of the innards were fully used. The control room they were in rose to the very top, where it poked out to see the outside world.
Mirakle B. was understandably gaping.
“To the… people… who, uh, want to stop us… if only I knew their names,” Miror B. said.
Zub and company had returned to the controle center of their robot… boat cruise-liner thing. The author cannot and will not say what happened below decks, as they threatened to sue.
“What is that,” asked Ran breathlessly.
“Looks like A GIANT MEATBALL!” exclaimed Death on his apparent epiphany. “Can we eat it please oh please Zub?”
Zub shook his head and pointed wordlessly at some semi-transparent object that the large floating sphere dropped. As it made contact with the ground, it exploded.
As the crew looked away, it began growing. As they turned back, where the Republic of Mossdeep last lay was a giant afro in the vague shape of a Pokéball.
“-and then we went to RAINBOW ISLAND to go to the end of the rainbow! Guess what was there?! BUDWEISER! SO me and the space pirates drink it and then SPACE KRAKEN came back with SPACE RIDLE-“
As Zub and his battleship-robot-cruise ship-thing arrived near the floating orb, a large bar appeared near the top of his peripheral vision. On one end, a bubble hosting a picture of the large battle station appeared, with the words BOSS: MIROR BATTLESHIP floated over the bar itself. The bar filled itself with a red light, reaching from one way to the other. Way to break the fourth wall, Tango noted.
“Like that helps,” pointed out Ran.
“Is anyone else seeing this?! It’s obscuring my vision!” cried out Death as he ran around aimlessly, apparently blinded, until he fell off the side of the boat.
The sphere hummed ominously towards their feeble battlerobot cruise.
“We have to go in and destroy the internal… stuffs! cried out Tango.
“What?! Why?!” asked Ran dejectedly. Tango shrugged.
Works in the movies .
Everyone agreed that this was a good point and went along with the plan.
“Alright, Team A; being Tango and Zub; wil fly into a small hatchway and do… I don’t know, destruction,” decided Ran. “Team B, the rest of us, will distract it with a full-on assault with our giant robot! go team go!”
As Zub sat, legs crossed, on Tango’s head as they prepared to lift off, Ran went over the controls in the user’s manual for the robot. “’To turn on the large robot mode, press the lever next to the quantum physique drive, which should reverse the magnesium porogitive flow that unsettles Mareep. Doing so will accomplish Step A in the thirty-six step plan to turn on the controls. For more information, please consult the The New New New New Super Standard Manual for Escaping Pits New Edition; Now With Added in-depth Information on Escaping YOUR Pit!,” read Ran aloud. “Well, this is rather useless, isn’t it?” he asked to no one in particular.
“Better question; how do I get that sphere to put away its guns and stop shooting at me?”
Sure enough, many hatches had opened from the floating orb and were now firing its entire artillery at the poor cruise ship.
If it could talk, I would have no doubt in my mind that it would say something along the likes of “”, which is a perfectly acceptable and morally requited thing to do in this sort of situation.
Tango and Zub had managed to slip in through a panel while some guns were extended or something. They didn’t particularly care how they got in; they just did.
Sneaking through a multitude of long corridor and rooms to ambiguously similar (or the author is withholding description for fear of work), the duo made it to a control room.
Another contrived plot deivce brought us here? asked Tango. Zub nodded sadly.
“AND IT WAS TOTES-RAD!” cried out a shirtless sailor in the back. “Cause they was all, ROOOOOOAR but we went mew and they were ALLERGIC TO ADORABLE so they went and ate a turnip and they turned into SUPER WARI-“
Please shut up, begged Tango. [/i] I can feel brain cells dying… and I don’t even have a brain! I am a supercomputer![/i]
“…” said the sailor sadly.
On the far end of the room, Miror B. looked up suddenly. “He shut up!” he rejoiced. Then he noticed the intrders. “It’s… those people… uh… their names, what were their names? Uh…. Ran and Death, yes?!” he said with an epiphany of excitement.
“Intruders! Intruding intruders who intruded on our non-intrusive intrusion of the intrusion of the world! Intruders right there!” cried out Mirakle B., waving jaggedly.
“How do you wave jaggedly?” noted Miror B. curiously.
Can we get on with this? asked Tango, reading Zub’s mind.
“No,” said Miror B.
“No,” agreed Mirakle B.
“Prototype Pancake Gate!” screamed the sailor.
I use my veto power to automatically win! screamed Tang, using telepathic powers to press the Self-Destruct Button.
“We had a self-Destruct Button?!” exclaimed Miror B.
“I personally always thought it said Sell F Destru CT BUTT on,” said Mirakle B> stupidly.
“How in the name of…?!”
All throughout this Zub stared blankly at them, and seemed to be the only one who took note of the fact that the entire station was going to explode.
If this is the end, he thought. [/i]My life pretty much sucked.[/i]
“So far, so good!” called out Ran to Death, who was below decks, firing exploding capitalists from the floating robot. Ran pressed the button to fire some more lasers and did a loop-de-loop.
Ran was having more fun than probably necessary.
“Ka-BLOOEY! Ka-BLAMMO!” he cried, sending in the robot t strike with a giant sword that appeared.
“Weeeeee!” exclaimed Death from down below.
Just then a large chunk of the floating sphere exploded and came cascading down into the ocean below.
“What just happened?” asked Ran nervously to Death, who merely vocally shrugged.
Another explosion, another chunk gone.
“I think it’s self-destructing!” called up Death.
“Did we do that?”
“Oops… hey, wanna go grab some pizza?”
“Are you kidding me?! …Of course I do!”
“Let’s go~!” Ran said merrily as they went to Papa Monz’.
How could this mission go any worse? moaned Tango. It’s not possible.; we’re surrounded by idiots and a delusional sailor, are on an exploding afro, not for the first time, mind you, and now we’re all going to die.
Tango broke the Number One rule of any situation; saying that things can’t get worse is only a beckoning for fate to make things worse.
Saying things can’t get worse is line the fine cheese for the rodent of fate, the wine and milk for the old creepy person of fate, the cage to the person who likes to be captured… of fate.
And so, Fate, the jerk it is, made things worse.
A man fell from the ceiling, stood u and brushed off his tuxedo, straightened his fedora, and waved apologetically.
“Sorry for breaking your ceiling,” Rick laughed with gusto. “It’s just that I have a little problem on my hands.”
“Oh?” asked Miror B. “Where is it?”
Just then a million small spheres caressed their way through the torn ceiling, each the approximate size of a baseball, or a Pokéball, or a very small grapefruit.
These thing again? moaned Tango for Zub.
“By the way, it’s right there,” pointed out Rick redundantly.
“I noticed,” replied Miror B> sarcastically. “What are they?”
“They are Them. An It is one of Them, and They are They.”
To paraphrase a certain redhead, Miror B. had but one thing to say. “It feels like my brain is imploding!”
It was then that They released from each of them, an Electrode.
WE HAVE BEEN SENT TO ELIMANTE THIS, WHGO KNOWS WHY. WHY IS THE TWENTY-FIFTH LETTER OF THE ALPHABET. ALPHABET SOUP, CONTRARY TO POPULAR BELIEF, IS NOT ALPHABETICAL. SOUP, CONTRARY TO POPULAR BELIEF, IS NOT SOUPY. 3…2…1…
“Haha!” cried out the sailor, clapping his hands. “Spheries go… boom-boom!”
With one last look from the other contenders, everything exploded.
“Hey, this pizza is really good!” commented Ran with a mouthful of cheese.
“Did you hear something?” asked Death, looking out the window to see the entire sphere, with their friends inside, exploding.
“Nah, if we don’t acknowledge it, we don’t have any guilt!” said Ran happily, plowing through another slice.
Last edited by Z-nogyroP; 18th June 2012 at 11:49 PM.
This is Bidoof. Many people loathe it with their lives. If you are of the few people who love this little beaver, put this in your sig. Started by Warrior Scolipede
I've claimed Castform. It will never rain on my parade.
Chapter 13: Reunion
back to the shorter ish
I've been really stressed and bored lately, so I've been writing more. It doesn't help that writing keeps this fic on the front page of the Fanfiction Section, so ha
Also, the OP has been updated to be significantly better, if anyone cares.
“Zub would want a pointless act of violence in his name,” sniffed Death, holding back tears. He then poked Ran. As a new Ran appeared, he bludgeoned several more with the original corpse.
“Yea. Yeah he would,” cried Ran, punching Death only to drop dead and respawn.
“Who would?” asked a voice that sounded vocal.
Turning around, the two were shocked to discover Zub standing there, talking to them.
“Daboblabosmellyalateroronyub,” said Death, dumbfoundedly
“Razzosmchmazzollyitty,” agreed Ran, equally confused.
“Let’s play a game,” said Zub, grinning sinisterly.
“Wow, this is fun!” exclaimed Death.
“What’s it called?” gaped Ran.
“This is a fun game called "STUFF YOUR FURNITURE DOWN THE DRAIN"!” exclaimed Zub merrily, jumping on a sink to force it down.
Ran, jumping on an ornate chiffonier, paused in thought. “How did you learn to speak suddenly?” he asked, growing suddenly suspicious for no reason of his own accord.
“Uh…uh… England!” he said. Sweating nervously, he continued. “The English of England taught me English so I could go to England and speak English with the English of English England…. and uh…”
Ran lifted an eyebrow.
“Death, execute operation 66-Alpha-Delta-Quadrilateral-Suspiciosly-Beueno-Taco!” he yelled.
A large, lush oak tree appeared behind them. Large leafy leaves swayed back and forth in the accompanying wind. Then in the tallest branch spawned the most adorable SKitty anyone had ever seen, albeit with no legs.
“That’s a nice tree,” commented Zub.
“Well….?” asked Ran.
“Timmy’s in one?”
“No, what are you going to do about that poor trapped Skitty?” exclaimed Ran, exasperated.
“Oooooohhh, I know. Let me be right back,” said Zub, who began to run off in search of something.
“So, with his… disease, what do you suppose he’ll get?” asked Ran, mildly curious.
“I don’t know. A ladder, some chains, a chainsaw, something,” replied Death casually. “He’s pretty creative.
Then Zub came back, huddled behind the tree for a bit, then stepped back for them to admire his handiwork.
“…what is that?” Ran asked, mildly mortified.
“Uh… a bear trap?” asked Zub.
“What,” said Death.
“I thought it would be funny!”
Death had to stifle a giggle. “I’m sorry,” he apologized to Ran’s death glare.
“Wait,” said Ran, suddenly astonished. “This means that Zub is cured of his Clichedprotaganitis!
Death released a flurry of confetti from his chest. “Yay!”
Zub looked confused. “Gesundheit?” he asked.
“Exactly!” cried Death amidst tears of joy. “If I ever have to impersonate you again, I won’t have to be a goody-goody! I can kill… EVERYONE!”
“You… impersonated me?” asked Zub, suddenly suspicious.
“Yeah, after I accidentally killed you.”
“I’m glad I can trust in my friends,” Zub said thoughtfully unsure of what he was doing with his life.
Then, inexplicably amongst the summer heat they were in, Zub was surrounded by shade. It was cool and refreshing and steadily growing larger.
“This is some nice shade,” he complimented the universe. Than something fell on him. Something very, VERY heavy.
“It’s a land whale! Run for your lives!” Death screamed like a little girl, hiding behind a nearby hill.
Ran facepalmed and greeted the aging woman warmly. “Who are you?” he asked, shaking her hand.
“I’m Mrs. Pants, of course!” she yelled with a sort of gluttonous merry that Ran found both horribly unattractive yet so… jiggly at the same time
“That’s an unusual name,” he pointed out.
“Before I moved, it was Pantsenfurherbinladen, but that did not bode well with the customs officials, so it was abbreviated to just ‘Pants’,” she reminisced sadly. Regaining her composure, she sat up and laughed heartily. “Now go bring back Mr. Bone! I made him a sweater accidentally after scaring him off,” she added sheepishly, holding up a sweater in his exact size. Embroidered across the front was the words, “Mrs. Pants’ Favourite Death God”.
Ran beckoned to Death to come over. “Get over here! She made you a sweater!”
Peeking over the landmass, Death asked worriedly, “Are you sure she’s not a land whale? Those things rustle my jimmies.”
“I brought cookies!” she called excitedly. Death could resist it no more and ran over, grabbed the sweater and put it on, stuffing his face full of chocolate chip cookies all the while.
“It’s so warm and comfortable!” he gushed. “And the cookies are superb! May I ask for the recipe?”
“Of course, I’ll give it to you on my way out. Now, where’s my little Zub?” I didn’t fly all the way out here just to meet his friends, you know!”
Death looked sad but pointed to beneath her regardless.
She loked down and squealed in fixated horror. “My poor widdle Zub!” she cried, pulling him out of the dirt. She brushed off her beehive hairdo and straightened out her Hawaiian dress afterwards.
“My, how you’ve grown!” she couldn’t help but admire his complexion, tan, every little detail.
“Wait,” said Ran, trying his very best to withhold laughter. “Does this mean his full name is… Zub Pants?”
“His middle name is Button because I thought it was cute!” smiled Mrs. Pants proudly.
“Thanks mom,” muttered Zub, flush with embarrassment.
“WHOA!” she screamed. “WHOA WHOA WHOA WHOA WHOOOOOOA! You don’t talk!” SH then proceeded thrashing her son with her handbag, a lovely little pink and floral addition that really complimented her outfit.
“It’s okay, ma’am!” protested Death. “We think we cured him after”
She turned around on her heel. “DON’T YOU BACK-TALK TO ME!” She then took it as a go-ahead to began savagely attacking him, too. Ran took out his video recorder.
“Mom, please! Cut it out!” pleaded Zub.
“YOU’RE NOT MY BABY BUTTON!” she screamed. “AND I BET YOU DIDN’T MURDER GALIDOR, DID YOU? OR-“
“No, I did not murder anyone… I think” he said.
Mama Pants paused for a minute to pat his head. “Good sweetie. BUT YOU STILL LIED TO YOUR MAMA! AND I BET YOU DIDN’T GET SENT ON A QUEST BY MONTGOMERY MONTGOMERY MONTGOMER III, DID YOU?! AND I BET YOU DON’T HAVE YOUR NAME STITCHED IN 37 DIFFERENT LANGUAGES ON YOUR UNDERWEAR LIKE THE REAL ONE, DO YOU?!”
It took all Ran’s willpower not to burst out and die of laughter.
“Mom, please! I’m Zub!” he cried.
She’s right; you aren’t. said Tango, strangely breathless and emerging from an ocean.
“Was that ocean there before?” asked Death.
Zub emerged shortly thereafter, ran up and hugged his mother, then glared at Zub.
“Zub!” yelled Zub, pointing at Zub. Zub nodded and glared.
“Wait, what?” asked Ran.
This is… an imposter! translated Tango for Zub. Derpy Moos nodded.
“Oh no!” gasped Mama Pants.
“When did Derpy get here?” asked Death in bewilderment.
Derpy borrowed Mama Pants’ purse.
She then went over and slapped Death with it and returned the handbag.
“It was just a question!” protested Death, rubbing his shoulder. “Also, OW!”
[i]But really, who are you, not-Zub.
Zub looked up.
So did Zub.
Zub had an idea and slapped Zub. Zub, realizing this, counter-slapped Zub.
Zub slapped Ran, picked up the spawning corpse, and attacked Zub with it. This would not stand, and Zub beat up Zub with Ran’s corpse.
[i]Finally Tango deciphered which one was which and read aloud the thoughts. This is Dr. Zubious, Zub’s doppelganger. He can talk.
“I can not! I mean, uh, AWKWARD SILENCE!” he yelled, realizing his mistake, and covered his mouth. The real Zub smiled in satisfaction and went over and hugged his mother.
“Oh my! I thought I would never see you again! The real you that isn’t you, which is the fake you, I mean, I think!” she wept, squeezing the breath out of Zub in the process.
Ran stepped away from his handiwork, which was, at the moment, a newly tied up doctor. “So, how do you do, Mr. Zub Button Pants?” he snickered.
[i]You’re a bad knot-tier” said Tango testily.
“Why do you bring that up?” asked Ran.
Tango gave a generic wave in the general direction of the direction in which Dr. Zubious was running.
“Oh.” said Ran, embarrassed. “I suppose we should go stop him?”
“But Mrs Pants makes the most delicious tea!” whined Death, drinking out of a small cup.
“More cookies, dear?” she asked s Death nodded enthusiastically.
“Ugh. Fine, I’ll go alone,” said Ran crossly. “Commi-Commi Powers Activate Communist… Landsurfer!”
Upon saying Ran’s magical words, a wind surfer made for the land emerged from the sand. Ran jumped onto the prow, and it took off.
Is it really wise to do this? Tango wondered, bemused. No one noticed amidst all the cookie-eating.
Ran rode his land surfer as he approached the fleeing doctor.
“I have you now!” he called.
Suddenly, Dr. Zubious turned around and looked at Ran. The background music changed and suddenly a bar showing two Pokéballs appeared.
“What’s happening,” said Ran.
“I looked at you and somehow challenged you to a Pokémon battle, duh.”
“But I don’t have a Pokémon!”
“Then what’s that?” Dr. Zubious asked suspiciously, pointing to a small red Pokémon with some severe hat hair standing near Ran.
“Mag?” it asked.
RAN WHITED OU- “Noooope! It’s, uh, my Pokémon, named…. Ranshao,” he said after perusing his knowledge of the Chinese language.
“Mag!” the Pokémon dubiously agreed.
“Plus it’s red! ♥” gushed Ran.
“Well, lovely Magby,” complimented Dr. Zubious. “Too bad it will be no match against my cunning Pokémon!” Seeing Ran’s unimpressed stare, he sighed. “Fine. But you’ll regret it! Go, Sewaddle!”
A small worm Pokémon with an adorable leaf bonnet spawned. It gave Ranshao a long, big-eyed stare in bewilderment. “Sew?” it asked.
“Mag!” cried Ranshao joyously.
“That’s your deviously cunning Pokémon?” asked Ran.
“Yes! Now, Sewaddle, Endure!”
Sewaddle sat their and began violently shaking. Its eyes widened and nearly bugged out, if you will pardon the terrible pun.
“Right. So, um, Mini-Ran, use… I don’t know, a good attack!” yelled Ran, pointing objectively.
Ranshao jumped into the air, inhaled deeply, and shot a volcanic wabe of fire at the poor bug Pokmon down below, where it spread out into a star formation.
“That seems like a hidden reference,” noted Ran. “But if it was, the meaning probably would have been lost in translation anyway.”
Dr. Zubious was speechfully speechless. “Isn’t that a tad overpowered?”
“Apparently not,” replied Ran, annoyed. “Your flower worm is still alive.
Dr. Zubious produced a pair of sunglasses from within his coat and put them on. “That’s endure. It leaves the Pokémon alive with at least one HP.”
The poor bug nodded in agreement, horribly burnt.
“Now, Sewaddle, use Flail!” Sewaddle threw itself at Ranshao and began horrifically beating every inch of its body against the Magby, in one last final gambit to gain the upper hand. Ranshao, not one to be deterred, slapped it as it fell down onto the ground, unconscious.
“Heh heh heh.”
“Why are you laughing?”
“This was all my trap. I severely weakened your Pokémon so I could unleash my trump card without verdict. And you, my communist foe, have fallen right into my trap. Therefore, I shall release my final Pokémon for you to deal with, and make my dastardly escape… Heh heh heh- ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME?!” he yelled as he suddenly realized that Ran was playing a video game.
“Yeah yeah, ‘final trump card’, blah blah blah, whatever dude. Hey, do you know which warp pad brings me to Cyrus’ room? I’m doing a speed run and am terribly confused.”
“No one cares! Regardless, have fun-“
“Thanks!” Ran said cheerily, appreciating the offer.
“I MEANT WITH MY MONSTER! HNNNG!” the Doctor yelled while running away, dropping a Pokéball.
There was a flash of red, one that Ran was so used to by now, but still enjoyed.
He, however, was not fond at all of the large earthy dinosaur that appeared.
Trainer RAN fled the battle!
Last edited by Zibdas; 23rd July 2012 at 12:01 AM.
Wow, that was an awesome chapter. Magby is just so awesome. In fact, after reading this, I literally found a shiny Magby on HeartGold, and caught it. I named it Ranshao.
Let me guess, the dinosaur was Bastiodon?
And how dare you type Pokemon in white to make us click it! That is truly evil.
This is Bidoof. Many people loathe it with their lives. If you are of the few people who love this little beaver, put this in your sig. Started by Warrior Scolipede
I've claimed Castform. It will never rain on my parade.
It's not my fault, honest!
Bonus Chapter 1! Aqua/Magma Crisis!
i got so bored this is what happened
A lone teenage boy continued up the sandstorm-buffeted route he was walking on. He was here to investigate some strange ruins everyone had been talking about after a whale and an ancient fish were dropped on them, cracking them open.
Slipping on his Go-Goggles, he trudged forward through more, deeper sand. It sunk him to his thighs, which was highly unusual for someone so tall. He decided he needed a Pokémon to help him cross. A few of them, actually.
And he had many just for this explicit purpose.
He threw a bag far into the sky, shouting as he obscured the sun’s rays from his eyes. “Go, Jerry! Terry, you too! Oh, and Larry! Mary and Merry, don’t slack off! Same for you, Fairy, I know how you love to be a burden! “Canary, Berry, Barry, and Cherry, you too!” he called and panted, out of breath.
A multitude of several dozen Magikarp spawned and landed on the sand, flopping about on the surface sadly. He clambered onto one.
“Thanks guys!” he called, hopping across them towards the ruins.
Laughing at his triumph, he realized there was an obstacle. Other people. The teenager frowned. He had a solution, put to pull it off….? Would it work? He shrugged off his dilemma and got to work releasing his Pokémon. When they were all assembled he pointed subtly towards the ruins.
Chief Sherles had always enjoyed rock finding, rock eating, rock tomfoolery, anything to do with rocks. As he was on leave from policing for a while, having hired a team of ten year olds, he decided to check out some rocks with his buddy Steven, who was also on leave after being mind-controlled and forced to wear a stone gauntlet.
“Igneous. Definitely igneous,” sia dSteven, adjusting his Go-Goggles, as Sherles looked on. “Seems to have a metamorphic mutation in the atomic particle-grains of the ulterior format. Man, geology rocks,” he giggled.
“What’s that?” asked Sherles, pointing. “Never seen that.”
“I don’t know. It looks like Koffing, but what would they be doing here, unless if… someone wanted… to clear the place out,” Steven said thoughtfully. The colour drained from Sherles’ face.
“They’re clearing out much earlier than I’d have thought,” mused the boy. “No matter. My Pokémon will clear them out.” he watched them envelop the area with poisonous smog.
Stepping forward onto normal sand, he smiled at the cluster of unconscious people and returned the Koffing to their Pokéballs.
“A shame you can’t see what I’m going to do here,” he said with ironic sympathy. “C’est la vie.”
He drew one last Pokéball, the final one required to meet his goal, and summoned a mysterious L-shaped Pokémon from the red flash. Holding it above his head, he plunged it into the wall topfirst, where it embedded itself in. The boy then used all of his might and turned it clockwise, creating a cavity in the wall. Smirking, he discarded the unconscious Missingno. to the side.
What lay there, however, was not what he expected.
It was as expected initially; a large, cavernous chamber constructed murky brown stone, which was utterly and terribly distasteful. On the opposite side, there were some flat Braille, great if you had a translator. Even if you were blind, it was constructed in such a way that you could not feel it, forcing only the seeing to enter the cavern.
However, none of this was out of the ordinary. What was, however, was the rather enormous gaping hole in the center of the room, leaving very little room to even sidle against the walls.
This was what was not expected.
It was rather ominous, too; instead of being just a gaping hole, or even an abyss, it seemed like some sort of portal. Its dark mists swirled and stormed, like an abyss of eternally-black soup. He hated soup.
He was considering ways to cross when he was suddenly pushed in. “Allons-y!” he heard a voice shout behind him.
“I’ll get you for this!” the teen screamed as he fell into the portal.
“I’m okay with that!” came the reply as he fell. “You know, #YOLO!”
“You think he’s coming to?”
“Impossible to say. He ttok a nasty fall.”
“Hey, like he was going down any other way! And… it was fun, I might add.”
A pair of royal purple eyes shot open.
“Hi!’ waved a large carrot.
“Good morning!” said a small boy, dressed in an odd red, white, and blue outfit.
“You’re very patriotic,” the teen couldn’t help commenting.
“Welcome and good morning,” said man with horribly messy hair and a purple and dark blue body suit. “I am The Author of this little thing here, and we need your help.”
“Because, Buz, the other guy is currently busy doing… whatever it is he does.
“So I was chosen because the normal guy is busy and you couldn’t bother finding a different replacement?” Buz asked suspiciously.
“In a nutshell.”
“That’s it, I’m out of here,” Buz muttered, leaping to his feet. It was only then that he realized he was in the cavern, though now it lacked the hole.
“Which way brings me back?” he asked, looking round.
“Helping me,” replied the Author smugly, which earned him a lovely punch in the face.
“Eurgh, you’re so annoying,” growled Buz. “So, you just chose me at random?”
“Not quite. You look impeccably similar to the other guy, too.”
“Great. And who are these people?”
“These are Thumbquack and 1-Up, respectively.”
“What’s with the stupid names?”
“Aww…. I was wondering if I could get away with that. No, this is Nar and that’s Life.”
“C’est la vie.”
“Lavie is a better sounding name than ‘Life’!” said the carrot.
“Fine, whatever. Do as you please.”
“Remind me why you’re a giant carrot?”
“Something wrong with yo’ veggies… punk?!” threatened Lavie as he made an array of gang signs. “Cross me again and I’ll kill you! …not literally of course, as I am inable to kill things. You touch me, you actually could get healed. Do it too much and you die, which could count I suppose.”
“Nerr herr,” laughed Buz in mocking. “And what’s with the other one’s costume?”
“He’s a Capitalist Robot. Hates Communism and throws capitalizing in everyone’s faces.”
“Right. So, who are we stopping again?”
“Capitalists!” yelled Nar.
“For the last time, no. Two evil syndicates, Team Aqua and Team Magma, are escalating up the top of Mt. Chimney to do… who knows what, but I bet it’s evil.”
“So, you have no conclusive proof that what they’re doing is actually wrong in any form of the word?” Buz glared.
“Yes, now get going. I’ll give you a handsome reward when you return, if that’s any motivation.”
“Okay, so we’re at the base of Mt. Chimney. How do we get to the top?” wondered Lavie.
“I’d imagine through the cable car,” said Buz. “Excuse me, pirate and emo kid, we need to get through.”
The two dozing grunts suddenly leapt to attention. One seemed to be a scurvy pirate, dressed in a a sleeveless striped shirt and ripped jeans, as well as a ripped bandana sporting a stylized ‘A’. The other seemed to be a girl wearing dark red hoods, obscuring most of her body but her arms, legs and face, and her hood was adorned with not only a stylized ‘M’ but also what appeared to be some imitation of a small mammal’s ears.
The pirate nudged his companion. “Terryn! Major trouble here!”
I know that, Sean!” the girl apparently named Terryn whispered back. “But it’s okay. I have a plan!”
She and Sean stood rigid, absolutely motionless in the only opening of the fence surrounding the cable car.
“Excuse me, we need to get through here,” said Buz testily.
“Aha! See?! We have already foiled your plan to stop us!” cried out Sean in jubilee.
“It’s okay,” reasoned Nar. “This means we’re probably not supposed to go here now. We probably need more gym badges and then they’ll move, so-“
“Or…” cut off Buz from behind the fence. “We could just hop over the fence?”
“That’s cheating!” protested Lavie.
“Plus, that would never work in a video game,” pointed out Nar.
“What sort of stupid video game doesn’t allow you to jump over waist-high fences?”
“Do you really need to ask?” asked Nar, raising an eyebrow.
“Fine, whatever. Let’s just keep going. I’ve a schedule to keep.”
“This cable car is fun. Weee!” exclaimed Nar. The large carrot standing near him nodded.
“I like the snow,” Lavie commented serenely.
“It’s ash,” pointed out Nar. “Why would there be snow on a volcano?”
“To psyche us out, obviously.”
“So, we’re at the pinnacle.” Buz looked around. ”Well this is awfully convenient.
“They’re all fighting each other,” gasped Lavie.
Sure enough, all around them Aqua and Magma grunts were facing it off by seemingly using Poocheyena on Poocheyena.
Nar walked up to one. “Excuse me, can you point me to the Atmospheric Weather Distortion Device? We’re hear to break it.”
“The grunt looked down in surprise. “I’m busy here! Can’t you tell I’m trying to look like I’m doing stuff so my boss won’t get mad?!” the Aqua grunt across from him shouted an agreement.
“Yeah!” she roared.
“So, uh, if you don’t mind, beat it!” cried the rather muscular grunt before Nar, who stood up, scoffed, and went back to the group.
“Scoff!” he shouted in dismay.
“So, what now?” asked Lavie in sorrow. “We’ll never find it in time!”
“Same thing as I always do. Beat something up. Yolo,” said Buz as he slugged the muscle-bound grunt from earlier.
“Hey, meatbrick! You’re like one, gushing, sweltering wall of flesh!” he called recklessly.
“Shut up!” whispered Lavie hoarsely.
The grunt slowly turned around. “What did you say?” he said, strangely calm despite the fact that he was seething and giving Buz the Evil Eye.
“You’re so fat, if you were a Poochyena, you’d have to wear a hula hoop for a collar!” he yelled.
The ‘sweltering, gushing wall of flesh’ punched Zub full-force in the stomach and launched him backward. Opening his eyes after sealing them shut, he found he was right beneath the Atmospheric Distortion Device.
“Hey guys!” he yelled, waving his arms. I found it!”
“Found what, I wonder?” asked a man hiding behind the machine. As he stepped into the light, his slicked-back red hair was revealed, as well as his sharp suit and matching cunning eyes.
“The way to the bathroom?” replied Buz nervously. They were at the very top of the rim of the volcano, with a large bubbling pool of magma just behind the Deice and the newcomer.
“My name is Maximus Engardé deAequivalere.” he said in a whimsical Latin accent. “But you may call me Maxie; or at least, you will before your death. At any rate, I’m much afraid I will have to destroy you so soon after making your acquaintance. You see, I simply cannot allow you to touch this machine. It is my prime invention for my heroic plot to-“
“Wait a second there, Maxi…ne!” cried out a gruff voice as what could be assumed to be the leader of Team Aqua came bounding up the stairs to the peak. His nice suit was only impeded by the fact that it was savagely ripped, exposing a glimpse of his apparently strong muscles. Around his neck was a solid gold chain, and he had a well-trimmed beard and pencil moustache that still gave off an ominous wave that tells you not to mess with him. He stared angrily at Maxie. “This was MY plan, and you… you KNOW IT!”
Maxie released a small chuckle as he approached. It soon became very apparent that Maxie was dwarfed by not only the muscular build of the Aqua Leader, but also by his sheer height. “Archie, my dear brother, if this is your plot, pray tell; what do you intend to do with the Atmospheric Distortion Device, and what will it accomplish?”
Archie snorted. “You tell me. I don’t want you to copy anything we did.”
His brother gave a thin smile, allowing it to show that this was at the peak of his nerves. “We, the idolized Team Magma are going to use this Device to supercharge the volcano. Upon maximum completion, it will gush out an unlimited supply of magma, which will eventually reach the seas. When it does, there will be new land, for Pokémon, people, and everyone to prosper on! Plus we’ll make a killing on Real Estate; we’ll sell it all and get rich!”
Archie glared at him. “That was OUR plan! Except, um, you know, replace land with water, and uh… Team Magma with Team Aqua, and that that water is the source of life… and maybe I should just write my own speeches from now o…”
“Dear brother, this simply will not do! I’m going to tell dear Mother about how you’re always stealing our plans!”
“Would everyone just SHUT UP?!” roared Buz, who was rather fed up. “Can’t I just beat you with my Pokémon and get on my way?”
“Well, according to League regulations, I suppose…” mumbled Maxie, taken aback that someone would challenge him.
“YEAH! AND WE’LL KNOCK YOU DOWN!” shouted Archie. Buz couldn’t help but smile.
“I’d be okay with that; I can just get back up. You, on the other hand…” he gave a wave to the lava behind him.
“I don’t suppose we could move the battle?” asked Maxie.
“No, I’m fine!” assured Buz, laughing. “Go, Cacnea, Lairon!” he shouted, throwing two identical, unidentifiable Pokéballs onto the field.
Cacnea, a small sphere of greenery mashed with several spikes and eyes and a crown, woke up with a jolt and extended its arms from its body. Lairon, a small reptilian covered in metal plates, howled ferociously.
Maxie smiled confidently. “We’ll see about your fate… Go, Mightyena!”
A large, vicious canine appeared, black-and-silver fur ruffling in the wind and ash. It growled at Buz’ two Pokémon.
“My turn!” said Archie, throwing a Pokéball. “Go, Mightyena!”
“You don’t even have the dignity to use your own Pokémon, you have to copy my team?” asked Maxie indignantly.
“I chose mine WAY before YOU did!” protested Archie. As the two turned back around, it occurred to them that one Mightyena was already knocked out and the other was being thrashed on by the Cacnea.
“I blame you,” said Maxie distastefully. Realizing they had no other option, they watched the last canine be mercilessly defeated.
“No matter. I’ll still crush you!” he called, throwing another Pokéball. “Go, Golbat!”
“SERIOUSLY man?! You stole my second teammate idea?! SERIOUSLY MAN,” said Archie, releasing a Golbat.
“Ugh. Golbat, Poison Fang, go!” yelled Maxie, pointing at Cacnea. It landed a critical hit, severely wounding the cactus Pokémon.
“MY turn!” said Archie. “Go, Golbat, use-“
“Lairon, Rock Thow!” yelled Buz. His Lairon dug out a very sizable boulder and hurled it at the Golbat.
“OKAY, NOW GOLBAT USE-“
“Oh, and Cacnea,” cut in Buz. “Use Thunderpunch!”
The cactus Pokémon obliged, curling a small bolt of lightning around one of its feeble arms. Flexing its arm with power, he flew up towards the Golbat and struck them both down.”
“Oh, COME ON!” cried out Archie.
Maxie shook his head. “It’s an opportunity. One to use my final and best Pokémon! Go, Camerupt!”
“You too, Sharpedo!” mumbled Archie.
“At least you didn’t copy my last Pokémon.”
“Believe me, I tried. It didn’t go well for Team Aqua though, so…”
“No matter! Camerupt, Eruption!” His Pokémon immediately obliged. Its long, shaggy orange hair swayed as it grew in power, and the two craggy humps on its back grew white-hot. A stream of magma shot out, directed itself at the two Pokémon below, and let loose, damaging all but the trainers.
Buz’ Pokémon were now badly hurt.
“FINISH IT, SHARPEDO!” yelled Archie. “Surf, now!” the shark agreed, nodding angrily as its luminescent eyes looked everywhere. It then held its breath for moments, then let loose, loosing an enormously powerful jey of water that doused everything, leaving only Cacnea alive.
“Swimming anyone?” said Archie, giving everyone a rather mischievous, yet unnecessarily creepy look.
“It’s that guy again!” cried out Buz in horror.
“You idiot!” cried out Maxie, smacking his taller sibling. “You destroyed my PokΘmon!”
“Eh. I’ll just finish this on my own, then!” he roared happily.
“No need!” said Buz, eager to wrap up the match. “Cacnea, Bullet Seed!”
The small cactus fired a small barrage of razor sharp, extremely fast seeds at Sharpedo, which surprisingly significantly damaged it.
“Aha! Now, finish it Sharpedo, with Ice-“
Cacnea shot more seeds at Sharpedo, interrupting Archie’s thought.
“Yes, well, now, Sharpedo, use-“
Cacnea shot out more seeds as Sharpedo began to whimper with pain.
“STOP! …Okay, fine. You did. Yay. Now Sharpedo, use Ice-“
Cacnea shot more seeds and brought Sharpedo to the verge of fainting.
“Finally, you stopped for good! Now-“
“Cacnea’s BULLET SEED hit 4 times!” said a bodiless voice emanating from nowhere.
“WE GET IT!” said Archie, on the verge of tears from frustration. “SHARPEDO, JUST USE-“
Sharpedo lay on the ground, unconscious not from the seed pelting but rather from straying out of water for so long.
Cacnea began flashing as it grew legs and its crown turned into a hat. no one noticed, though, and it became sad.
“You’re kidding me,” moaned Archie, slapping his own face.
“Troops! Retreat! We need a new plan!” called Maxie to his grunts, most of which were sleeping, lounging about, or playing video games with the Aqua grunts.
“Same here, Aqua grunts” yelled Archie. “Oh, Matt! Take this machine too!” Archie pointed to the Atmospheric Distortion Device.
“Hey! That’s my Device!” protested Maxie.
“Quit your whining!”
“Watermelons!” the overly-buff Aqua Admin stated, picking up the machine and effortlessly wrenching it from the ground.
“I told you before, ENOUGH WITH THE WATERMELONS!” sobbed Archie before fleeing with the rest of his team.
Lavie and Nar came up to Buz.
“Hurray! You did it!” cheered Nar.
“Where were you guys?!” demanded Buz. “Some help would have been appreciated!”
“Oh. Well, some grunts had a copy of i]Melee[/i] and we were totally owning as Link and Kirby, respectively, and…” Lavie feebly defended.
“Don’t care. But why didn’t you invite me?!” cried out Buz exasperatedly.
“You were saving the world.”
“Save the world? Please, I was only in it for the free meals and reward. It was like prison but with better food and more work."
“The Author is giving you free food for this?!” demanded Lavie.
“HNNNG!” she yelled to the sky.
They were all back in the cave now after a holly uninteresting journey back, and no one would particularly like to hear what happened.
“So, can I go home now?”
“I suppose you should,” said The Author sadly. “I paid you and gave you a hearty reward, and UNLESS YOU WANT MORE BY SAVING THE WORLD MORE,” he called without subtlety. “I wil send you back.”
“Yes, and they get better as time goes on. Plus you get paid for royalties, insurance, keeping you here until then…”
“Fine, you have a deal.”
“Oh goody-goody gumdrop.”
That last chapter was pretty good. I've always liked Cacnea, and I've always hated Sharpedo. Oh, and you mentioned Cacnea "grew legs." Cacnea already has legs, albeit short and stubby.
This is Bidoof. Many people loathe it with their lives. If you are of the few people who love this little beaver, put this in your sig. Started by Warrior Scolipede
I've claimed Castform. It will never rain on my parade.
Chapter 14: Gordon's Picnic
oh and it occurs to me that I don't explain half of everything. So, if you want something explained, let me know by posting and I'll try to write it as an extra chapter that answers your question. Yay.
“…NOT SALLY!” finished Death with a roar of laughter. Everyone around him but Mama Pants and Zub burst into extreme amounts of laughter.
Wiping a tear from his eye, Tango realized something. Should we check on that little robot?
Death waved him off as he lounged on the beach they were on. Behind him some mountains loomed, with a city perched high in them.
So, where are we, anyway? asked Tango. Death could only shrug.
“As amazing as I am, I’m not certain. I’d think somewhere near the city of Mossdeep. Though I can’t say I quite remember that little valley being there…” he pointed in the direction Ran went off in.
Is that a problem, would you say?
“Ugh,” muttered Ran, running for his life down the valley he had come down. It suddenly seemed a lot longer, even if its scenic mountains and streams were amazingly breathtaking. “This is very problematic.” The Pokémon behind him roared ferociously, as if agreeing.
“Hmm….” thought Death out loud. “No. Knowing Ran he’ll be fine.”
Are you sure you’re talking about Ran?
Death lounged back even more, accidentally killing a nearby tourist. “Ran rhymes with pan. As in, pancake. And pancakes are flexible, delicious, and awesome. Therefore a Rancake is Rexible, Relicious, and Rawesome. By my logic, he will be better than fine. He will be… Rine.”
Ran screamed as loud as he can as he tripped over a shrub. “I really need to get a more manly scream,” he said, scrambling to get up. The Pokémon behind him roared once more, its dark red hide shimmering with absolute heat. Several spikes jutted out from the side, and its tail reminded Ran strangely of ribs.
“I’m so hungry…” he muttered, rubbing the blue panel on his stomach.
And now for something different.
Groudon moaned in agony. It had been sleeping so soundly at the end of this valley, then some nob came and woke him up. And that noob smelled strongly of his great grandmother’s chocolate chip Corsola melts.
And poor Gordon the Groudon realized how terribly hungry he was, and found a delicious, if small, red Tinkleberry, just like he used to pick from the fields surrounding his farmhouse when he was a child.
And when it began running, just as they did back home, he knew he had to give chase and roar viciously. It was in the codec for legendary dinosaurs.
“Hurray!” cried a strangely feminine voice, leaping out from behind a bush.
“Who’re you?” asked Death suspiciously.
“Mary Sue!” cried out the girl apparently known as Mary Sue. “And I’m not being hunted here!”
“That’s it, I’m out of here. Bye, Zub-honey, and enjoy the cookies!” she cried out as she flew away.”
What do you mean, ‘here’? asked Tango.
Mary Sue shrugged. “In some other placed, everyone claimed I ‘must die’. Lame, innit?” she whipped back some of her voracious, multicolored hair.
Zub blinked slowly and sipped his lemonade.
“Please go away,” moaned Death. “We really are quite busy, our friend is probably dead-“
“-and we can’t put up with any more characters showing up randomly.”
“Just this once? Please, for me?” asked a deceptively sweet girl’s voice that Death instantly recognized.
“No no no no no no no no-“
“That’s right! I’m back!” cried out Ashleigh, leaping from behind another bush. Pausing a moment to straighten out her odd, metallic dress, she grinned wickedly at Death. “I knew I was relevant to the plot!”
We have a plot? asked Tango, now more confused than ever.
“NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO-“ repeated Death.
“Awwww, what’s wrong, Mr. Death? Is somgod a widdle scawed of the BIG BAD WALL OF FLESH, RATH? CUZ YOU SHOULD BE!”
Death shook his head. “No, it’s just that every time I see you, you always cheat me out of something. Like last time, when every card in Go Fish, except mine, were mysteriously all the pufferfish…”
“Awww, are you blaming me?” Ashleigh asked in mock sweetness. “That stings, you know.”
“It’s times like this when I wish we had a theme song…” muttered Mary Sue.
Oh, I always thought we did. Someone told me it was this.said Tango.
“No no no no. It’s always been this, always will be.”
That’s… that’s a blnk link. Plus we’ve already done that before.
“Exactly! also, exactly!”
“Moo!” agreed Derpy Moos.
“STOP DOING THAT[/I]” roared Death.
You know what would be great right now? Pizza bagels! said Tango gleefully.
“As good as that does sound, you don’t even have a mouth,” pointed out Death.
Yes I do! It’s right…. AHHHH! MY MOUTH! panicked Tango, horrified. He searched his entire face for one, to no luck.
“Ahem… am I allowed to go back to killing you yet?” asked Ashleigh, annoyed.
“If I say no?”
“…I’ll kill you anyway,” finished Ashleigh, nodding.
“And if I say yes?”
Zub sipped his lemonade.
“I’ll be your best friend forever.”
“How long will that be?” asked Death suspiciously.
“Depends on how long you can bleed until you die.”
“I don’t bleed.”
“Never mind then; I’ll finish you on the spot.”
“Wait one second!” Death yelled, and sat down, cross-legged. “I need a poorly derived plot device!”
We need a smurf, offered Tango helpfully. Be more useful than this Mary Sue girl.
“I forbid you!” she protested.
“Can I kill you now?” asked Ashleigh impatiently.
“Just wait one more minute,” Death promised. “Say, why do you want to kill me so badly?”
“Oh, don’t you re-AAAH!” she screamed as she was suddenly crushed by a falling clown.
“I finally got my Moe Solo!’ shouted the clown in jubilee, who disappeared before anyone got a good look at him.
“You owe me one!” cried the author from above.
“Sadface,” said Death. “Anyway, let’s see what’s taking Ran so long.”
What about our vacation? complained Tango.
“CRACKERS TO THE VACATION!” shouted Death. “Let’s bominos!”
“Enjoying your Tinkleberries?” Ran asked. “I picked them fresh from some bushes over the in the woods.
“Groooroaroorooroarmeow!” nodded Gordon happily, excited at the fact at having a friend at last.
“Just wait until you meet my friends. They should be coming soon. You’ll probably hate them, but a friend is a friend, huh?”
Hurray! Yay! We found you!” pronounced Death as he merrily skipped through the meadow Gordon and Ran were picnicking in, leaving a trail of dead grass.
“This is Death. Don’t touch him,” warned Ran.
“It’s okay; if you hugged me I’d probably… not die, but kill you… eh,” said Death, shrugging.
Zub waved and helped himself to a sandwich. Tango followed Zub’s lead, though he cried at his inability to eat the food due to an absence of a mouth, and Derpy Moos gave everyone a nice, cold glass of milk.
Finally Mary Sue, who had been following the group from a respectable distance showed up. Her cheerful, childish fearful face twisted into an evil smirk.
“Uh… are you okay?” asked Ran. His attention was caught off guard, as Groudon turned a lustrous golden colour.
He turned into a shiny Pokémon! gasped Tango.
“MEOW?” asked Gordon worriedly.
Mary Sue held out her hand as a Master Ball formed into it.
Walking a little bit down the road, Gordon realized what she was doing too late.
The shiny Groudon, Gordon was all hers.
“Now where have I seen this before?” pondered Death.
“Ahahaha… ohoho. You guys are idiots. I knew it would be easy, but this easy? The other guys were right. You people are probably the worst characters a fanfiction could hope to offer.”
“At least we are having gooder grammar?” shouted Death. Mary Sue pointed and Death couldn’t help but facepalm.
“So, uh… how do I get out of here again?” she asked, scratching her head.
“If we knew, we probably wouldn’t be here…” muttered Ran, still in shock over the loss of his friend.
“Right. Well then, uh.” she turned around and found an elevator labeled ‘To… Somewhere Else’. “That’s rather convenient,” she gloated.
“Any chance we get Gordon back, at least?” asked Ran.
“Nope! The whole reason I came here was for him. No where else would be stupid enough to give me it!” she yelled triumphantly, hopping into the elevator.
“We have to get into that elevator!” yelled Death, which somehow urged everyone else to g clamber to get inside. Right as they gotnear, the doors mysteriously slammed shut.
“How annoying,” drawled Death.
“Ugh, Ranshao, I hate to do this so soon after using you, but I need you. Use Fire Blast!” he shouted, opening up the blue plate on his chest, releasing his Pokémon. Jumping out, Ranshao fired a stream of intensely hot blasts of pure heated energy at the top of the elevator, which was mysteriously going up into the sky. He managed to pierce the solid steel, of which the elevator car shot out.
“When did you get a Magby?” asked Death, eying the small Pokémon carefully.
“Never mind that. Did I kill her?” Ran asked excitedly.
Tango searched around the area. Nope, I’m still detecting life…. can you guess where she is?
“On top of the mindless, evil, giant Groudon that seems to be attacking Mossdeep,” asked Death, which was a very lucky guess, as he was currently turned the other way.
You take all the fun out of this… whined Tango as the group headed in the direction of destruction.
“Oh, my little Georgia,” Mary Sue cooed to the colossal ancient Pokémon she was riding. "Kick that man into the water." Obeying, the Groudon tapped a man who looked similar to Zub's back with a razor claw, throwing him into the ocean below.
“You lift my heart up. Stop here, I wish to make an announcement.” Obeying, Gordon/Georgia halted on the outskirts of Mossdeep.
“Oh, feeble town of peons and voidless souls seeking refuge from not! I am Mary Sue, and I wish… to be your friend. Ever since I was a young girl, all I did was pretend to have friends. My dad….” she sniffed here. “…he ran tem all over, ‘accidentally’! then lied and said they all ran off to a Butterfree farm… but now, I can have friends! So if you sympathyse and wish to be my friend hold still and let my Pokémon step on you and wreck your city.”
“Hey, I like her! She seems very well constructed and totally not contrived!” shouted one cityfolk.
“Yeah! Let’s do whatever she says!” shouted another, who promptly sat very still, as did the others.
“Ahaha! Right into my trap!” giggled Mary Sue evilly. “Once this place is destroyed, I’ll…. destroy another place! And then I’ll destroy some more! And then I’ll go home and rule a good planet!”
“That seems a very good planned, Madam Mary Sue!” someone shouted.
“Quiet you,” she growled.
“MAKE ME!” screamed a voice she thought she lost. as the owner flew into her.
“Get off of me, you idiot!” she screamed, pushing Death off of Georgia with no ill effects.
“Oi! Its name is Gordon!” yelled Ran.
“I thought I lost you losers!” she yelled angrily.
“As Miror B., Eff Ecks, and… whoever else we’ve fought will tell you, we’re hard to get rid of,” mumbled Death, who was all tangled in his robes.
“And, those guys were all authors,” added Ran.
“And I’m a contrived plot device used exponentially by novice writers. But I’ve never been able to be topped. So, how did you beat the authors, anyway?”
“We have a cripple,” said Ran, pointing to Zub, who was still silently sipping his lemonade. “He’s diseased and litrally cannot lose.”
“Well, neither can I, so… hm. Guess we’ll have to see~♪♫” Mary Sue said merrily. “Georgia, demolish that town. It’s an eyesore.” Nodding, Gordon/Georgia ran forward and kicked over a building.
“Zub, Ran and I will stop that thing! you take care of that thing!” Death yelled, pointing at Mary Sue, as he and Ran ran towards the monstrous Pokémon destroying the town.
“So. You new here?” asked a distant and faded voice Miror B. knew could only be Eff Ecks, from watching history tapes. He slowly sat up and looked around the ethereal plane of nothngness he sat at.
“Where are you?” he asked.
“Yes,” replied Eff Ecks matter-of-factly. “Now let’s bail.”
“So, uh,” wondered Ran aloud, looking up at the hulking titan before them. “How did you intend we stop it again?”
“I thought you were in charge of that,” protested Death.
“Oh, well….” said Death. “I’m sure we’ll think of something before it obliterates the island and all its inhabitants.”
“…Got anything yet?”
“I was hoping you would.”
Nearby, Zub and Mary Sue were staring each other down… to the death.
“You can’t win, you know,” she taunted.
“The silent type I see. Like a rock.”
Zub sipped his lemonade more, wondering why it hasn’t run dry yet.
“Good thing I trained under Karate King Kiyo. HI-YAH!” she screeched before punching Zub with all her might.
She recoiled and rubbed her fist, which was clearly in pain.
“What… what are you?” she screamed.
Zub looked down on her, his pale flesh glistening with slight beads of sweat upon the unique backdrop of a monstrous Pokémon destroying a sprawling, beautiful city against a gorgeous bloodred sunset. ub’s pupils met hers, and for the briefest moment, the locked, not only with eyes, but with souls, with hearts. Their two intertwining shines of beauty were only matched by one thing;
“AFRO AFRO AFRO AFRO AFRO AFRO AFRO,” yelled Zub, who suddenly sported one.
“Wh-what the hell?!” she screamed, now frightened, which isn’t typically easy.
She glanced over at Death, Ran, and Georgia, who all grew afros. “AFRO AFRO AFRO AFRO AFRO” they all yelled.
“This is only the beginning,” promised Eff Ecks. Miror B. nodded.
“She’s out cold,” pointed out Ran.
“Ever since she punched you, she;s been lying here unconscious?” Death whistled.
Suddenly her eyes burst open.
“Oh good. Now we can get back to stoping Gordon,” said Ran as he and Detah turned back around and Groudon continued attacking.
Zub just stared at her.
“Afro?” she asked.
Zub shook his head as he caught on fire.
Last edited by Zibdas; 23rd July 2012 at 12:03 AM.
Yay, a Mary Sue! I hate Mary Sues, so I hope she gets killed. I like how you described Mary Sue, as the generic Mary Sue who is overpowered and gets whatever she wants. Nice job, and why exactly did Zub catch fire?
This is Bidoof. Many people loathe it with their lives. If you are of the few people who love this little beaver, put this in your sig. Started by Warrior Scolipede
I've claimed Castform. It will never rain on my parade.