The Pocket Monster Diaries, Part 11

Dear PokeDiary,

Ever since I emerged from the caves of Mt. Moon I was focused on getting to Cerulean City as fast as possible. As tired as I was after that subterranean ordeal, I refused to let my pace slacken. Fortunately, I didn’t run into any time-consuming battles along the way, and the city was a pretty straight shot from the cavern exit. But to be perfectly honest, now that I’m finally here…I kind of just want to take a nap somewhere.

Somewhere without Zubats.

No offense, Vamp. You're one of the good ones.

Cerulean was certainly a relaxing place to visit. Cool breezes blew off the river, and everyone seemed so laid back and unhurried that it was hard to remember why I was in such a rush before. I didn’t really feel quite up to facing another Gym just yet. And after spending all that time in Mt. Moon, hadn’t I earned a little R&R? I decided to head to the Pokemon center instead.

There, the buzz seemed to be all about this Bill character. People had some rather…mixed opinions on the guy.

Pokemania? Didn't they take that out of the DSM back in the 70's?

I explored the rest of the city a bit more in order to meet some of the locals. There were some pretty…interesting folks. Like this berry enthusiast.

What a nice elderly gentleman!

I...I didn't mean it! I was just trying to make smalltalk!

Oh man, and how could I forget the bike shop. Just look at all those aluminum-framed beauties:

No...control yourself, Winston! No time for window shopping! You have to go find G'yorp! ...in like, five more minutes...

Although I can’t really speak for the effectiveness of the Cerulean Police Department.


Yes, it's obvious that Team Rocket is behind it because there's a shady guy, wearing all black, with a giant R on his chest, STANDING IN THEIR BACK YARD

Hello? Officer? He's still there. I am literally...literally looking at the culprit right now. Are you gonna...no? Just gonna keep guarding that front door? Fine. Great. See if I care.

Aaaaaaand he just winked at me.

I’m going to try and get a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow maybe I’ll look around the area some more for telltale signs of G’yorp activity (such as fires, people screaming, an unwashed jungle boy prancing about, etc. etc.).

Dear PokeDiary,

Once again, I decided not to go to the Gym right away. After all, I had met G’yorp wandering around the Pewter City area well after he had beaten Brock. Maybe a search of the surrounding wilderness would give me a lead on his whereabouts. As a bonus, I could get a little more training in before I came back and got my second Gym badge. It was the perfect plan…almost.

I began to trek north. The only way to exit the city in this direction was a large wooden bridge over the Cerulean River. It was a scenic enough way to travel…until I ran into somebody I did not expect to meet. At least, not so soon. Who should come strolling down from the other end of the bridge but my old buddy. And as I feared, he seemed to have a larger group of Pokemon at his side this time. I braced myself for a battle.

Hey, I'm the one who's supposed to be looking for YOU! I'm not ready yet! I still have to-

Aaaggh! Mr. Suds just...do something!

His Pidgey had evolved since the last time we met. It was stronger, faster, and meaner than it was before.

Actually, you know what? Scratch that last part. This was the same Pokemon that attacked me in the gizzard when my back was turned. He’s always been a real son-of-a-bitch.

I instinctively reached for Mr. Suds’ Pokeball on my belt, and sent him out to meet my attacker. While Mr. Suds and I had gotten over most of our initial…differences, I knew from experience that he was more than capable of handling most fights without my direction. It was simply his style. I decided to sit back and watch things unfold.

You come around here with your fancy new tail feathers and your highfalutin' head crest, but I know better. You're nothing but a Pidgey who went got too big for his britches. You hear me, boy? TOO BIG FOR YER PIDGEY BRITCHES

The battle began with a plume of sand, kicked up by the Pidgeotto’s beating wings. It was one of the more common and underhanded tricks employed by their loathsome species, but the tactic’s effectiveness cannot be denied. Mr. Suds sputtered and tried to wipe the grit from his eyes as the Pidgeotto took wing and circled around, no doubt trying to take advantage of the Squirtle’s impaired vision by attacking from an unexpected angle.

But Mr. Suds was not so easily fooled. He had fought their kind before, and whether evolved or not, their tactics were the same. As soon as he heard the distinct whooshing noise of a bird swooping in for a dive bomb, he whirled to face the attacker and blasted it with a Water Gun that would have stripped the aluminum siding off of a house.

Enjoy the wages of your FOWL PLAY, scallywag!

It squawked and almost fell out of the sky, but righted itself and tried to circle around for a second pass. But Mr. Suds was ready and hammered it right in the face with another powerful jet. This time, however, it tumbled to the ground. At first I was ready to cheer, but the Pidgeotto rolled and managed to come up on its feet. It charged at Mr. Suds with astonishing speed for a creature that was usually so clumsy on land, and slammed its bulk into my turtle friend.

More like dick attack, amirite?

He went down pretty hard after that body blow. Pidgeotto had a lot more mass than his evolutionary predecessor, and I could see how much each hit would count in this fight.

“Get up Mr. Suds! Watch his next move!”

The bird drew back, but remained close enough to charge before my Squirtle could begin to use Water Gun. He was now wary of his opponent’s marksmanship. Mr. Suds stood up quickly, ready for round 2. He had finally gotten all the sand out of his eyes, and I could tell that he was getting a little pissed off at this point. His recklessness overcame his reason as he ran at his foe headlong, but this was what Pidgeotto had been waiting for. It began to beat its wings rapidly as it lifted off into the air, stirring up an incredibly strong blast of wind.

Your puny gust only fans the flames of my undying hatred!

I covered my face as sticks, gravel, and anything else that happened to be lying on the ground went flying. My shoes dug into the dirt as I began to slide backwards an inch or two. “MR. SUDS!” I shouted over the roaring gale, “USE…WITHDRAW!” My Squirtle was currently clinging desperately to a clump of grass to avoid being blown away, eyes squinted almost shut, legs and tail flapping in the wind. He saw the intense winds cross and form a vortex in front of the Pidgeotto that began to move steadily towards him. Suddenly, he let go and allowed himself to be sucked inside.

The Pidgeotto began to slow the pace of its wing beats, looking visibly exhausted. The maelstrom subsided, and as the debris cleared, the vortex dissipated, revealing Mr. Suds’ shell hanging in the air. It fell to the ground, bounced once, twice, and on the third bounce he popped out and landed feet first, launching a Water Gun immediately. The attack struck the Pidgeotto in the left wing, and I heard a sharp snapping noise as it shrieked in agony. The bird crumpled to the earth, one wing beating uselessly and the other hanging limp.

The two combatants faced each other on the ground now, as equals. The hate was almost palpable. They stared at one another, breathing heavily, then both charged at the same time. Mr. Suds’ slammed his shoulder into the Pidgeotto’s breastbone, and they rebounded off of one another and fell to the ground. Then, they got up and did it again. And again. The third time, Mr. Suds ducked low and delivered a brutal headbutt to his opponent’s breadbasket (birdbasket?). This time it took over 30 seconds for both Pokemon to stand back up…but only Mr. Suds stayed on his feet.

crunch

The Pidgeotto collapsed beak first into the dirt, leaving my Squirtle panting, bloodied from flying sticks and rocks, and cradling an arm that looked like it might have been dislocated in that last tackle, but victorious.

That'll do, Suds. That'll do.

When I looked over at G’yorp, Bulbasaur was already prepared to take the field. Can’t we even have a short break? But I knew it was useless to try and reason with my adversary. Mr. Suds went back to his Pokeball gratefully, and I sent out my next champion.

Listen closely, JB. I want you bring only the gnlarliest brand of extra-sensory mind power razzle-dazzle to the table...

...because it's time for this chump to DIG IN

The second fight was much easier than the first. Bulbasaur was so stunned by the relentless psychic onslaught from my Butterfree that it barely had time to spit out a Leech Seed before it hit the mat.

Just go ahead take the HP, for all the good it'll do you.

I ain't even mad.

As G’yorp ran over to look after his fallen Bulbasaur, I saw a smallish, yellow creature following him. It seemed to be trying to hide behind his leg. Was this our next opponent? The small Pokemon looked like it didn’t want to fight. G’yorp turned to it and gibbered a series of hissing noises with some strange sounding buzzes and clicks mixed in. Slowly, it stepped out from behind its master and assumed a fighting stance…I think. It was pretty weird looking.

Alright Vamp, it's time to prove your worth against...this noface dinosaur. Or whatever the hell it is.

If the fight with Bulbasaur was a cakewalk, than this one was an absolute farce. The enemy Pokemon didn’t seem to be making a move, so I decided to be proactive.
“Vamp! Try using a bite attack with those big choppers of yours!”

Good job, Vamp! Bite seems to be working...

...and how!

Vamp sank his fangs into the target, and in retaliation, he…began to panic and run around in circles. This was not ordinary battle behavior. My Zubat turned its face/mouth back towards me.

Should I keep going, or…?

“Uhhh…just, knock it over…or something.”

BOOGA BOOGA BOOGA

And with that, G’yorp’s third Pokemon fell to the ground, out cold.

“Huh…skittish little guy.”

Now that all his Pokemon were defeated-

oh yeah I guess there was a Ratatta too

Anyway, NOW that all his Pokemon were defeated, I began to move slowly and cautiously towards where G’yorp was crouching next to his Bulbasaur. Even without any Pokemon, he could still be dangerous. I didn’t think that he would run now, as his Pokemon were knocked out, and without Pokeballs he had no way of transporting them in such a state. Still, I had Chuckles, JitterBug, and Mr. Suds spread out to try and catch him if he fled.

“G’yorp,” I said evenly, holding out my hand to the manchild. “Come with me…we can go see your grandpa. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

For a moment he looked up at me, and I wondered if I was getting through to him. Then he snapped his head to the side and made more weird buzzing sounds to the yellow thing. It sat up very slightly, just enough to grasp G’yorp’s hand with its three fingered claw. There was a sound like a fuse box¬† exploding, and a blinding flash of light.

G’yorp and his Pokemon were gone.

I looked over at Mr. Suds. “They can teleport now.” He didn’t respond.

“Shit.”

Suddenly, his body began to glow with a diffuse, white light. “Mr. Suds! You’re-”

Mr. Suds, your new name...shall be Captain Winghead! What? What do you mean it sucks? That's a quality nickname right there! Alright, fine, we can talk this over at the Pokemon Center...Captain Winghead.

About toastybiggins

This guy? He's alright.

Posted on September 2, 2011, in The Pocket Monster Diaries and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 4 Comments.

  1. The police officer is obviously just upset because no one takes him seriously because he isn’t Officer Jenny.
    BOOGA BOOGA BOOGA

  2. Wait, was your Squirtle a shiny? Because your Wartortle definitely is. What sort of trickery is this?

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