TruetoCheese
Cheese is imminent
Hiya! This is TTC, posting my first fic on this forum. Some of you may know me from The BBS, I'm Iento there. 
This is a humour fic, not sure if it's crack per say as it's got a plot (however idiotic) and the characters aren't as crazy or cracky as they would be in a crack fic...Okay, maybe some or them are....Or maybe all of them.
Rating: PG-13 for occasional swearing, mild violence and death.
So, without further ado, welcome to:
"Greetings viewers, my name is Arceus, as you all know, and this is the mental broadcast of the Paint Soaked Battle Royal! Yes, we are invading your mind. After so long we return with the favourite game show of the afterlife, taking place on my birthday, but with a twist! It's not a game show anymore! I welcome you to watch as the battles soon commence, just don't forget to wish me happy birthday.
And now, I bid you adieu, as I must inform someone about the correct use of references." the crack of nonexistent knuckles was heard.
A crisp tap on the cherry counter signaled the next person in line to come forward, and of course the old one to go back to their daily afterlife doldrums. The interviewer was an impatient but easily bored Meowth and therefore the perfect receptionist. Two large round spectacles sat upon her cream head, the glass gleaming in the light to hide her dreary eyes.
The room was clean, white and above all, unwelcoming. The walls were tiled with antiseptic white and surrounded the cherry red reception desk behind which the Meowth sat. A line of nervous Pokemon emerged from the doorway and down the length of the room. After every tap the one at the desk left through a secondary door and the line moved forward a step. Though there seemed to be no end.
Next in line was a small brown bird flourishing a vegetable almost double his size, a Farfetch'd. All spirits look exactly like they were alive, hence no cliché transparency or levitation. The Farfetch'd timidly looked upwards at the counter, calculating something. Then he leapt upwards with a ravishing cry of "Gwaaah!" and grabbed the counter. Heads turned and conversation halted, all eyed the curious bird that had attacked a piece of flat, red plastic, and failed. In his defense it was big piece of plastic.
"Name?" the Meowth behind the counter said in a matter-of-fact tone as she penned down notes in a pad, behavioral notes. The Farfetch'd looked dumbstruck, his ploy to make a startling first impression had failed miserably. After a careful look about he uttered:
"Jasper Boggles. But everyone calls me Jasper..." the Meowth gave him a stern glare. "Okay, they really call me Wimpy McNoselfesteem." the glare didn't stop. "Okay, they call me a loser." The glare looked as intense as ever. "Alright, no one talks to me." he followed this by ritualistically smoothing his ruffled feathers and looking downwards in embarrassment.
The feline Pokemon paid no attention to his actions and simply continued to drawl along with a list of questions, the same ones asked to every contestant in the same order. So everyone who heard them had time to ready their replies, not Jasper though.
"Gender?" the question would seem obvious and easy to answer to normal people.
"From last time I checked-" a chorus of 'What? Checks?!' piped up from behind him. "Uh, I was male. Though I'm not really sure since my species might be able to spontaneously change their gender. My thrice removed Uncle Jerry one day became my Aunt Jerry, he was wearing my mom's makeup and clothes that time for some reason."
"Likes?" the Meowth questioned, eyes fixated on the pad and mind trying to force out the mental image of a cross dressing Farfetch'd.
"Uhhh...err. Popcorn? N-not the spicy kind though, or the overly buttery kind, those give me gas." blurted out Jasper, occasionally pausing to reword his answers. "And, uh, not the gas that comes out from your excrement flap but from your beak. Not that you have a beak, or that any one without a beak has a beak. Since my genus cannot burp the gas would inflate me and make me explode." this grisly death was probably what all the other contestants were wishing for Jasper at this moment.
"Phobias?" the second question was posed.
"Snakes!" the bird's voice resounded throughout the room, he had thought of something fast! Oh how proud he was of himself. Jasper stared at the Meowth for approval but only got a blank stare. "And err...heights, yes heights. Not the small heights like the chairs and the counter but big heights, with the largeness and the nausea...Ekans as well, they are scary!" Jasper tried to make a snake-like look with his face, it didn't work out well. "Uhh...bad voice acting?" he was just trying to attract attention now, in vain of course. "Oh, and any Pokemon in the Poliwag family or in the same genus. Flight, upbeat pop songs." the Meowth's pen didn't move, waiting for one particular tidbit. Jasper racked his brain, "...And my Aunt Jerry."
"I take it you fear women too?" the phrase slipped out of the cat's mind and into her vocal cords, unintentionally...possibly.
"Uh p-pardon?"
"Nothing. Hometown?" she quickly changed the subject, wanting to avoid any further discussion of probable trut- unnecessary topics
"Vermillion City. But my trainer traded me for a Psyduck, I don't know why though, Psyduck never ever talk." a few snickers were let loose from behind him. "But he traded me to a man in a skintight black suit-"
"A ninja?" screamed a Pokemon from almost the other end of the line, his ninja like hearing picking up on the conversation.
"Uhh, he had a large red R on his chest. So probably not." Jasper tried to scream back to the random ninja enthusiast, but not even the Whismur two spaces behind him could hear what he said.
"Cause of death?"
"Umm...there was this big white thing...it fell on me with its cold and rotten sandwiches..." the rest of the sentence was lost amid the distinct tap. Jasper instantly upped and walked out the side door. The next person woke up. The Meowth wasn't fazed by the ambiguous sounding death, there had been weirder.
A very ornate throne made of assorted rare and precious parts of Pokemon floated a few feet in the air. The ornaments varied from pearls to horns to mysterious holes in space time. The room this floating throne resided in was the same, a regal playground of velvet carpet and large crystal walls upon which various amalgamations of random body parts were glued together. In this throne slept a large white horse creature, well the Pokemon world's equivalent of a horse.
"Sir? Are you-" a feminine, monotone voice droned. The Meowth to whom the voice belonged to was flapping her arms, one held a clipboard, wildly around the white horse's face.
"YOU SMELL NICE," the large horse suddenly stirred, and his slurred, guttural voice boomed right into the cat's ears. "CAN I EAT YOU?"
The Meowth grumbled something about not being lucid yet and it was normally at exactly this moment, and in vain decided to tap her feet was she waited.
"Oh, there you are. Yes, yes. Do you have the list of volunteers, Amanda?" as if slightly off cue, Arceus suddenly returned from madness. Jaw hinged and voice now classy and refined.
"Yep, here you go." Amanda the Meowth handed the clipboard she held to her boss. Using his immense mastery of all things, Arceus telekinetically made the clipboard float and read through the volunteers list. "The ones I recommend for the shortlist have a red circle around their name." Arceus looked back, cracked a thankful grin somehow and continued reading.
"This one seems interesting. G-"
"-ENERAL FELIX HELDRICK BALDWHIP!" A large, Pokeball-esque, sphere wearing what seemed to be a modified astronaut's helmet screamed in a voice demanding caps lock. "SECOND COMMANDING OFFICER OF IMPERIAL JUSTICESHIP OMEGAS SPHERICAL'S FOURTEENTH BATTALION."
Amanda seemed visibly and audibly shaken, her eardrums were probably bleeding and her brain must have become ooze. "U-u-h...L-Likes?" she shouted in return.
"ITEMS OF ELECTRICAL IMPORTANCE, AS ALL VOLTMASTERS APPRECIATE THE ALMIGHTY POWERS OF SUCH OBJECTS, ESPECIALLY THE LAVAL LAMPREY." boomed Helix, causing everyone in the room to wish that they're evolutionary road did not include growing ears.
"D-Do, you mean lava l-lamp?" Amanda said as she shook, even her normally perfect handwriting was now almost scribbles.
"WHAT? I CAN'T HEAR YOU, COULD YOU SPEAK UP?" Amanda cursed her afterlife.
"Nevermind, P-Pho-"
"I ALSO LOVE THE CHALLENGE THAT HOSTILE ALIENS PROVIDE, NOT FRIENDLY SPECIES WE HAVE ENSLAVED SUCH AS YOURS, BUT SADLY VERY FEW ARE STILL ALIVE AFTER THE LAST GREAT WAR."
"Please shut up." Amanda hissed at the excruciatingly loud ball of deafening destruction.
"DID YOU SAY SOMETHING?"
"PHOBIAS? DO YOU HAVE ANY PHOBIAS?" roared Amanda in return.
"NONE, A TRUE SPACETORB HAS ABSOLUTELY NO FEAR." if it was possible, Helix had gotten even louder in his boast. "Except losing my blaster." he added with a whisper.
"D-Did you just speak normally?" Amanda was dumbfounded by the Voltorb's sudden normality.
"OH MY SPACEBALLS! HOW DID YOU HEAR SUCH A QUIET WHISPER, AS STEALTHY AS THE SHADOW MINIONS OF THE EVIL SPACE TYRANT JAEB."
"Quiet? QUIET?" Amanda growled, "That was as loud as a screaming Whismur! How is that defiance of all that is and ever could be holy a whisper?!" No one was sure what the look on the Voltorb's face represented, wounded pride or a look of confusion at not hearing what the Meowth had just said. "Uhm, anyway. Hometown?" Amanda quickly recomposed herself to a more professional stature, enough fooling around. Enough doldrums.
"I WAS BORN TO A MOTHER OF SIXTY FIVE AT THE HEART OF OLIVINE CITY MANY YEARS AGO. SINCE THEN MY RESIDENCE HAS BEEN SHIFTED ALONG WITH MY JOB TO BLOCK #23 OF IMPERIAL JUSTICESHIP OMEGAS SPHERICAL. RIGHT NEXT TO BRENDA'S ROOM, WHICH IS AWESOME!" Felix screamed at an incredibly loud pitch, rivaling the sound of the birth of the universe.
"C-Cause of Death?" Amanda pressed on through the hellish pain, holding her supersensitive ears for dear afterlife.
The Voltorb fell silent, amazingly, he looked downwards at the crisp white tiles that matched his own lower body in color and clarity. He suddenly looked up with sad eyes, almost on the verge of tears. Everyone was on the edge of their teeth, learning about someone's death is usually a more personal matter, when he finally began to open his mouth, and out came a series of words that made him choke with sadness.
"IN SPACE NO ONE CAN HEAR YOU SCREAM..."
"Dear heavens, why haven't you put a circle around his name?" quizzed Arceus, completely overthrown by the craziness Felix would bring to the table.
"WHAT? I CAN'T HEAR YOU?" Amanda bellowed in reply.
"Very funny..." mused the godly horse. "Well, from among the list you've given me, and the deeper selection you have done, I'll have to say." Arceus paused to take a breath and be a suspenseful ***. "I am going to need more."
"W-What?!" shrieked Amanda, that was enough work for two days, forget one! "Why would you ever need anymore for a game show!?"
"Ah, that's the thing." the regal overseer of all Pokemon with a pinwheel around his body looked into the distance. "I'm going to have to give you a flashback."
Amanda awoke to find herself lying on the far left of a monochromatic version of Arceus' throne room. This was probably another one of his memories, shown a la flashback.
"Isn't it great when time is your slave?" chuckled Arceus from next to Amanda, as Dialga's faraway scowl resounded throughout the room, who was shocked for a second as she knew Arceus barely wanted to relive his old memories. "I know what you are thinking, but this one's special." he paused and embarrassingly added. "Even if I am insane in this one."
A loud wham signaled the entrance of someone, someone with a humanoid figure, very interesting for this section of the afterlife. It was clad in a dark black trench coat and matching fedora, suspiciously hiding any of its features.
"My liege!" the creature boomed, arms opening up into a wide hug like gesture. "I have heard you are to begin you're birthday gift again. And I wish to respectfully suggest a change to the format."
"WHY ARE YOU WEARING OVEN MITTS?..." groaned the Arceus that currently sat in the throne. And he was right, the mysterious figure wore yellow, floral print oven mitts instead of gloves.
"Do you think that means it's not human?" quizzed Amanda, rubbing her chin with her pen.
"I think it means it likes to bake." replied the Arceus that stood next to her. They were both in color, sticking out like a sore thumb in the black and white memory. Then again, it wasn't like anyone could see them.
"W-What?" the figure looked down upon its mitted hands. "Uhm..."
"GO ON? DO YOU WISH FOR COOKIES? I HEARD THE DARK SIDE LIKES THEM." interjected Arceus.
"Where did you get dark side from, my lord?" the mitted being quivered and stuttered. "I am but a simple servant of Arceus in dark clothing." the dark clothed creature hesitantly snickered.
"EXACTLY, DARK CLOTHING."
"Oh." the being bowed in humility and offered it's most benevolent of apologies. "As for the hands..." it looked around cautiously. "I have a very" it coughed, "specific fetish, sir." he answered in a broken manner.
"That was an interesting thing to hear the second I wake up..." groggily said the now normal Arceus, readjusting his position on the throne to a more comfortable one. "On to something less disturbing and not related to rubbing dough on yourself, what did you wish to suggest?"
"Ah yes," remembered the dark figure. "I was about to suggest that you modify the game show to a more dynamic and more enjoyable format."
"And what might that be?"
"Paintball."
"Paintball!?" roared Amanda. "Why?! I think that a game show is perfectly fine." The shadowy specter of more work loomed over her like an evil Rattata on a stick. It was in the top percentage of evil Rattata.
"IT IS MY BIRTHDAY." Arceus' sudden return to insanity stunned Meowth for a second, who now bore a look of confusion as this was too early for another spell of idiocy. "No, I'm just joshing with you." Amanda tried to hold back the floodgates containing an enormous quantity of expletives from her mind reading god. "And yes, it is my birthday."
She grumbled in defeat, deciding to stall the now looming pain she blurted out. "It's not even your real birthday? Why do you care!" Arceus shot her a smile, and suddenly a feeling of backstory dread fell over the feline.
The ancient and godly Pokemon began reciting one of his favorite lectures."My perception of time is different from yours, as with all legendaries-"
"And therefore one day to you is more like a minute to me, so to be fair I have my birthday every few thousand years or else to me the party would never stop, blah blah." Amanda brought an abrupt end to the lecture, having heard it on more than one occasion. Arceus scoffed.
"Well, back to the list then."
"Name?"
"Bag W. Von Forretress." cheerily piped in a very metallic Pokemon, its exterior being extremely durable and numerous defensive abilities made it a very tough nut to crack. Normally this species had a very dull and lifeless gaze, but this one was extremely happy.
"Likes?" asked Amanda, absent-mindedly tapping her pen and thinking of the previous person, or people, in the line. She couldn't rest her elbows on the desk anymore as it was bent out of shape.
"Hang on! Don't be a forgetful Pineco! Ask me and my shiny Forretress body about my gender, I will not allow my lustrous orb of Forretress brilliance to be discriminated!" The Meowth looked up from the cherry countertop, and sighed.
"You're a Beldum, so you're genderless." she calmly announced to the room, not just the Forretress impersonator. Light flooded in through a hole in the side wall, bathing Amanda in an illuminating light as she said this.
"W-W-What!" roared the Beldum, "How dare you insult my deliciously feminine yet sturdy and hardened shell of Forretress with such insinuations!" Amanda was a bit taken aback at what that sentence entailed.
"So, you're saying you're female?"
"Yes, I can bet my shining facade of Bug and Steel brilliance on it." Amanda penned it down thoughtfully, 'Gender: Lunatic.'
"Now then, likes?" buzzed Amanda, clearly bored with talking to idiots.
"Forretresses! They're my buddies and friends and they are so nice and friendly buddieful and friendnice to my Forretress self and they are awesome and smooth." Bag happily returned to simplistic vocabulary and a calmed state, her voice without a hint of delusion as she spoke.
"I see...smooth." Amanda paused extensively, tired of how the afterlife was filled with morons who had forgotten how to breath. "Phobias?"
"There's no air up here! What the deuces are you talking about." a mystical voice reverberated through Amanda's head, she could've sworn it was Arceus.
"Isn't it obvious, friend?" Friend? What, Amanda friends with Bag W. Von Forretress? Impossible! "Not being a Forretress is my greatest fear, its so scary being in the big world without a protective shell. Thankfully I'll never have to worry about not being a Forretress!" said the Beldum.
"Hometown?" almost everyone else in the room expected something along the lines of Forretressville or Forretress city.
"Route 228." Bag replied casually, "But a trainer who collected Forretresses like me caught me and took me arooooooound the world." the magnetic Pokemon said with a series of twirls.
"Cause of Death?" this time Amanda knew something Forretress related was coming; locked, loaded and-
"I think one of my Forretress buddies exploded!" Fired.
"Hmm? Why is there a drawing of a-"
"NOTHING! That's nothing! Eheheh." Amanda was sheepishly grinning, cheeks flushed and hands flailing like an unstable Aipom.
"Oh, oh. OH" Arceus started laughing. "You sly little minx. You sly, sly, talentless minx."
"Ehe- Wait what. Talentless?" Amanda glared at Arceus with a look of unamused resentment, just waiting to pop into anger.
"Obviously. Just look at this terrible craftsmanship, I mean I can not make out if this is a Burmy or a Dragonite! It is plain horrible!"
"Sooo..." a large, formidable looking dragon leaned on the counter, which appeared as if it could barely supporting his weight. Not that Amanda minded, his gleaming cream and orange scales matched with the now bent counter top beautifully. "Would you like to get dinner sometime?"
Amanda sighed at the Dragonite, but only managed to mumble out a barely coherent stream of "Purpler Munchshnuffloop"
"HEY!" boomed a voice from directly behind the draconic casanova, before he could spout a confused 'Purp..?What?'. "Step away from my lady!"
The dragon type swung around, smashing his tail into all the Pokemon immediately behind him. Sending each one flying into walls, paintings, chairs and bins.
"Ay caramba." groaned a Lotad as it was sent flying into a trash can. The Dragonite, satisfied he had removed all immediate competition and stifled others' future attempts, turned back around to Amanda.
"Hey!" the voice returned, surprisingly not carrying a painful wince like the Mexican lily pad.
"What?" bellowed the Dragonite, swirling around again.
"LOOK!"
"Where?!" the Dragon Pokemon seemed genuinely dumbfounded now.
"DOWN HERE YOU GLORIFIED SALAMANDER." the source of the voice was finally found, a dark gray bag worm wrapped in a cloak of leaves. "You want my lady, you'll have to fight me for her!"
The Dragonite started laughing.
"Hold on a minute!" interjected the target of their affections. "I don't belong to you, I don't see your name written on me!" she smugly put with a sense of finality echoing in her voice.
"Well, you see, we share the same name."
"Really, you're name's Amanda too?" she fluttered with a glow of hope emphasizing her question.
"No." the Burmy said sheepishly. "Not really, eheheh."
"ENOUGH!" exclaimed the Dragonite, breaking up the conversation before it turned sour for himself. "You asked for a fight, you're getting one." the Burmy was tiny compared to the giant dragon, which towered almost as high as the ceiling while the bag worm was the size of a Rattata.
From right there, the whole room seemed to warp the boundaries of time and turned into middle school. Scores of "Fight! Fight!" began chorusing throughout the lobby, the line parted like the red sea to allow for a makeshift battle arena and the combatants firmly and boldly took their sides.
"Prepare to feel the thunder." jeered the Burmy, as a small, very tipsy red panda waltzed its way into the center of the arena.
"Awright! This will be a one on one battle between." the spotted bear motioned to the Dragonite.
"Bobbery Gretchen Klaus."
"Bob Kwaus the Dragonite, and-"
"William M. Beall XII"
"And Wiww Beaww the Burmy! I am you're referee Derp McTwister the Spinda, BEGIW!" screamed the tipsy Pokemon at the top of his lungs, and the battle commenced.
"And that's what happened." groaned Amanda, not wishing to remember more of the scene.
"NO!" choked Arceus in dismay, "THIS WILL NOT STAND!" he wasn't feeling insane, as his jaw was hinged and pupils undilated. "WE MUST RETELL THE BATTLE, FOR IT MUST BE OF AWESOMIC PROPORTIONS!" being a god meant you could make up your own words with reckless abandon.
"How do you know?" sighed Amanda, suddenly shuddering with nausea from the devastation of the match.
"Trust me."
Bobbery roared, a signal that it was on and oh god was it on. He lowered his shoulder and with a flap of his disproportionate wings, charged through the air at Will. The extreme speed created by the shock left a flurry of disoriented spectators in its wake. Bobbery zoomed through where Will was standing and smashed straight into the wall, cracking the tiles and brickwork and leaving a giant, gaping hole. Taking this as a sure sign of the battle being over, he turned around and raised his arms in victory.
Bad move.
A fine string shot from inside the hole in the wall, and wrapped itself around the Dragon's very sensitive wings. And pulled.
"GWAAAAAAAAAAH!" screamed Bobbery in agony, the string painfully gluing his wings to each other, disabling him of flight.
"Ah, that was a refreshing change of pace. Most of my opponent's are just slightly weaker than you are." chuckled Will, dusting his cloak off from the impact.
In response the dragon whirled around, flames licking his maw. He opened his jaw wide and let loose a torrentious pillar of fire at the Bug type.
"Really?" Will sighed and shot a string of silk at the ceiling and reeled himself up with immense speed. Bobbery adjusted the Flamethrower accordingly, aiming the flaring cone upwards at the bag worm. Will sighed again, and flipped in midair. He shot another string at the floor then quickly cut it. He hastily repeated the process at different angles until he had curved his way to the side of Bobbery's face in less than a second.
The dragon didn't have enough time to react as the Burmy smashed into his cheek with tremendous force. Sending the large orange dragon to go reeling into a trashcan, a trashcan with a lily pad for a lid. A trash can that mumbled a broken "Ay carambaaa..."
Screaming and flailing wildly, he leapt upwards to fly but his sticky wings dropped him like a rock. Will shot a string at his foe's face, causing it to drip with web, and zoomed across the room with another line of silk. You could hear the Spiderman theme being sung in a Mexican accent.
"Had enough?" he beckoned, a tease to show he was gentlemanly enough to ask and awesome enough to boast. A muffled 'NRGH' sealed the dragon's fate. The Burmy winked at Amanda, who's face flushed with fear and awe, and shot a web at the dragon's face again. This time he followed it across the enormous room, spiraling like a drill.
Bobbery couldn't see anything but he heard the air around him hiss with supersonic speed, spiraling into a gush of wind that was getting closer by the millisecond.
Will roared with a look of fury, and smashed into his foe's face. The dragon spun in tandem with Will from the force of the impact and both were sent careening through the wall and into the street.
Will stood victorious on the knocked out dragon's protruding belly, who's tongue was hanging and eyes dazedly spinning from pain. Will spoke one phrase. "Get me some sunglasses and one of The Who's Albums."
As they were in the afterlife, all materialistic wishes were granted instantly. A pair of sunglasses as large as Will himself floated down dramatically and perched themselves on his manly nose, and an album of The Who started playing. The Burmy took his foot and slapped the dragon back to consciousness.
"Listen up," he said, eyes meeting Bobbery's, "I am William M. Beall XII," he growled at the now terrified dragon "and that," a pool of yellow liquid formed on the street beneath the Dragonite, "Will Beall."
"YEAAAAAAAA-"
"No!" interjected a voice, booming from inside Will's head.
"What?" the Burmy craned his head around. "Where is this voice coming from!?"
"That doesn't matter, just pretend I am your conscience, or a cricket." Will could hear the voice clearing its throat, inside his head, and subsequently flinched in disgust. "I am here to tell you something, references must be subtle and incorporated seamlessly, not just blatantly fired off like a broken siren! Especially not ending with a reference."
"Ending what?"
"Uh, nothing, so long and thanks for all the fish!" the voice disappeared from Will's thoughts, feeling as if a freeloading burden just showed itself out of his mind.
I apologise if it is too dialogue heavy, some of the opening chapters are going to be that way, so bear with me. Until then, bye, mainly because my foot has fallen asleep. :c
This is a humour fic, not sure if it's crack per say as it's got a plot (however idiotic) and the characters aren't as crazy or cracky as they would be in a crack fic...Okay, maybe some or them are....Or maybe all of them.
Rating: PG-13 for occasional swearing, mild violence and death.
So, without further ado, welcome to:
Doldrumosity
What really happens after death
-----
Chapter Index:
Arc 1:
Chapter 1: Prologue? We don't need no stinkin' prologue!
Chapter 2: I Want to Believe
Chapter 3: The Stuff of Dreams
Chapter 4: A Blinkin'
Chapter 5:May or may not be in development hell
...
Chapter 1: Prologue? We don't need no stinkin' prologue!
-----
Chapter Index:
Arc 1:
Chapter 1: Prologue? We don't need no stinkin' prologue!
Chapter 2: I Want to Believe
Chapter 3: The Stuff of Dreams
Chapter 4: A Blinkin'
Chapter 5:
...
Chapter 1: Prologue? We don't need no stinkin' prologue!
"Greetings viewers, my name is Arceus, as you all know, and this is the mental broadcast of the Paint Soaked Battle Royal! Yes, we are invading your mind. After so long we return with the favourite game show of the afterlife, taking place on my birthday, but with a twist! It's not a game show anymore! I welcome you to watch as the battles soon commence, just don't forget to wish me happy birthday.
And now, I bid you adieu, as I must inform someone about the correct use of references." the crack of nonexistent knuckles was heard.
---
A crisp tap on the cherry counter signaled the next person in line to come forward, and of course the old one to go back to their daily afterlife doldrums. The interviewer was an impatient but easily bored Meowth and therefore the perfect receptionist. Two large round spectacles sat upon her cream head, the glass gleaming in the light to hide her dreary eyes.
The room was clean, white and above all, unwelcoming. The walls were tiled with antiseptic white and surrounded the cherry red reception desk behind which the Meowth sat. A line of nervous Pokemon emerged from the doorway and down the length of the room. After every tap the one at the desk left through a secondary door and the line moved forward a step. Though there seemed to be no end.
Next in line was a small brown bird flourishing a vegetable almost double his size, a Farfetch'd. All spirits look exactly like they were alive, hence no cliché transparency or levitation. The Farfetch'd timidly looked upwards at the counter, calculating something. Then he leapt upwards with a ravishing cry of "Gwaaah!" and grabbed the counter. Heads turned and conversation halted, all eyed the curious bird that had attacked a piece of flat, red plastic, and failed. In his defense it was big piece of plastic.
"Name?" the Meowth behind the counter said in a matter-of-fact tone as she penned down notes in a pad, behavioral notes. The Farfetch'd looked dumbstruck, his ploy to make a startling first impression had failed miserably. After a careful look about he uttered:
"Jasper Boggles. But everyone calls me Jasper..." the Meowth gave him a stern glare. "Okay, they really call me Wimpy McNoselfesteem." the glare didn't stop. "Okay, they call me a loser." The glare looked as intense as ever. "Alright, no one talks to me." he followed this by ritualistically smoothing his ruffled feathers and looking downwards in embarrassment.
The feline Pokemon paid no attention to his actions and simply continued to drawl along with a list of questions, the same ones asked to every contestant in the same order. So everyone who heard them had time to ready their replies, not Jasper though.
"Gender?" the question would seem obvious and easy to answer to normal people.
"From last time I checked-" a chorus of 'What? Checks?!' piped up from behind him. "Uh, I was male. Though I'm not really sure since my species might be able to spontaneously change their gender. My thrice removed Uncle Jerry one day became my Aunt Jerry, he was wearing my mom's makeup and clothes that time for some reason."
"Likes?" the Meowth questioned, eyes fixated on the pad and mind trying to force out the mental image of a cross dressing Farfetch'd.
"Uhhh...err. Popcorn? N-not the spicy kind though, or the overly buttery kind, those give me gas." blurted out Jasper, occasionally pausing to reword his answers. "And, uh, not the gas that comes out from your excrement flap but from your beak. Not that you have a beak, or that any one without a beak has a beak. Since my genus cannot burp the gas would inflate me and make me explode." this grisly death was probably what all the other contestants were wishing for Jasper at this moment.
"Phobias?" the second question was posed.
"Snakes!" the bird's voice resounded throughout the room, he had thought of something fast! Oh how proud he was of himself. Jasper stared at the Meowth for approval but only got a blank stare. "And err...heights, yes heights. Not the small heights like the chairs and the counter but big heights, with the largeness and the nausea...Ekans as well, they are scary!" Jasper tried to make a snake-like look with his face, it didn't work out well. "Uhh...bad voice acting?" he was just trying to attract attention now, in vain of course. "Oh, and any Pokemon in the Poliwag family or in the same genus. Flight, upbeat pop songs." the Meowth's pen didn't move, waiting for one particular tidbit. Jasper racked his brain, "...And my Aunt Jerry."
"I take it you fear women too?" the phrase slipped out of the cat's mind and into her vocal cords, unintentionally...possibly.
"Uh p-pardon?"
"Nothing. Hometown?" she quickly changed the subject, wanting to avoid any further discussion of probable trut- unnecessary topics
"Vermillion City. But my trainer traded me for a Psyduck, I don't know why though, Psyduck never ever talk." a few snickers were let loose from behind him. "But he traded me to a man in a skintight black suit-"
"A ninja?" screamed a Pokemon from almost the other end of the line, his ninja like hearing picking up on the conversation.
"Uhh, he had a large red R on his chest. So probably not." Jasper tried to scream back to the random ninja enthusiast, but not even the Whismur two spaces behind him could hear what he said.
"Cause of death?"
"Umm...there was this big white thing...it fell on me with its cold and rotten sandwiches..." the rest of the sentence was lost amid the distinct tap. Jasper instantly upped and walked out the side door. The next person woke up. The Meowth wasn't fazed by the ambiguous sounding death, there had been weirder.
---
A very ornate throne made of assorted rare and precious parts of Pokemon floated a few feet in the air. The ornaments varied from pearls to horns to mysterious holes in space time. The room this floating throne resided in was the same, a regal playground of velvet carpet and large crystal walls upon which various amalgamations of random body parts were glued together. In this throne slept a large white horse creature, well the Pokemon world's equivalent of a horse.
"Sir? Are you-" a feminine, monotone voice droned. The Meowth to whom the voice belonged to was flapping her arms, one held a clipboard, wildly around the white horse's face.
"YOU SMELL NICE," the large horse suddenly stirred, and his slurred, guttural voice boomed right into the cat's ears. "CAN I EAT YOU?"
The Meowth grumbled something about not being lucid yet and it was normally at exactly this moment, and in vain decided to tap her feet was she waited.
"Oh, there you are. Yes, yes. Do you have the list of volunteers, Amanda?" as if slightly off cue, Arceus suddenly returned from madness. Jaw hinged and voice now classy and refined.
"Yep, here you go." Amanda the Meowth handed the clipboard she held to her boss. Using his immense mastery of all things, Arceus telekinetically made the clipboard float and read through the volunteers list. "The ones I recommend for the shortlist have a red circle around their name." Arceus looked back, cracked a thankful grin somehow and continued reading.
"This one seems interesting. G-"
---
"-ENERAL FELIX HELDRICK BALDWHIP!" A large, Pokeball-esque, sphere wearing what seemed to be a modified astronaut's helmet screamed in a voice demanding caps lock. "SECOND COMMANDING OFFICER OF IMPERIAL JUSTICESHIP OMEGAS SPHERICAL'S FOURTEENTH BATTALION."
Amanda seemed visibly and audibly shaken, her eardrums were probably bleeding and her brain must have become ooze. "U-u-h...L-Likes?" she shouted in return.
"ITEMS OF ELECTRICAL IMPORTANCE, AS ALL VOLTMASTERS APPRECIATE THE ALMIGHTY POWERS OF SUCH OBJECTS, ESPECIALLY THE LAVAL LAMPREY." boomed Helix, causing everyone in the room to wish that they're evolutionary road did not include growing ears.
"D-Do, you mean lava l-lamp?" Amanda said as she shook, even her normally perfect handwriting was now almost scribbles.
"WHAT? I CAN'T HEAR YOU, COULD YOU SPEAK UP?" Amanda cursed her afterlife.
"Nevermind, P-Pho-"
"I ALSO LOVE THE CHALLENGE THAT HOSTILE ALIENS PROVIDE, NOT FRIENDLY SPECIES WE HAVE ENSLAVED SUCH AS YOURS, BUT SADLY VERY FEW ARE STILL ALIVE AFTER THE LAST GREAT WAR."
"Please shut up." Amanda hissed at the excruciatingly loud ball of deafening destruction.
"DID YOU SAY SOMETHING?"
"PHOBIAS? DO YOU HAVE ANY PHOBIAS?" roared Amanda in return.
"NONE, A TRUE SPACETORB HAS ABSOLUTELY NO FEAR." if it was possible, Helix had gotten even louder in his boast. "Except losing my blaster." he added with a whisper.
"D-Did you just speak normally?" Amanda was dumbfounded by the Voltorb's sudden normality.
"OH MY SPACEBALLS! HOW DID YOU HEAR SUCH A QUIET WHISPER, AS STEALTHY AS THE SHADOW MINIONS OF THE EVIL SPACE TYRANT JAEB."
"Quiet? QUIET?" Amanda growled, "That was as loud as a screaming Whismur! How is that defiance of all that is and ever could be holy a whisper?!" No one was sure what the look on the Voltorb's face represented, wounded pride or a look of confusion at not hearing what the Meowth had just said. "Uhm, anyway. Hometown?" Amanda quickly recomposed herself to a more professional stature, enough fooling around. Enough doldrums.
"I WAS BORN TO A MOTHER OF SIXTY FIVE AT THE HEART OF OLIVINE CITY MANY YEARS AGO. SINCE THEN MY RESIDENCE HAS BEEN SHIFTED ALONG WITH MY JOB TO BLOCK #23 OF IMPERIAL JUSTICESHIP OMEGAS SPHERICAL. RIGHT NEXT TO BRENDA'S ROOM, WHICH IS AWESOME!" Felix screamed at an incredibly loud pitch, rivaling the sound of the birth of the universe.
"C-Cause of Death?" Amanda pressed on through the hellish pain, holding her supersensitive ears for dear afterlife.
The Voltorb fell silent, amazingly, he looked downwards at the crisp white tiles that matched his own lower body in color and clarity. He suddenly looked up with sad eyes, almost on the verge of tears. Everyone was on the edge of their teeth, learning about someone's death is usually a more personal matter, when he finally began to open his mouth, and out came a series of words that made him choke with sadness.
"IN SPACE NO ONE CAN HEAR YOU SCREAM..."
---
"Dear heavens, why haven't you put a circle around his name?" quizzed Arceus, completely overthrown by the craziness Felix would bring to the table.
"WHAT? I CAN'T HEAR YOU?" Amanda bellowed in reply.
"Very funny..." mused the godly horse. "Well, from among the list you've given me, and the deeper selection you have done, I'll have to say." Arceus paused to take a breath and be a suspenseful ***. "I am going to need more."
"W-What?!" shrieked Amanda, that was enough work for two days, forget one! "Why would you ever need anymore for a game show!?"
"Ah, that's the thing." the regal overseer of all Pokemon with a pinwheel around his body looked into the distance. "I'm going to have to give you a flashback."
---
Amanda awoke to find herself lying on the far left of a monochromatic version of Arceus' throne room. This was probably another one of his memories, shown a la flashback.
"Isn't it great when time is your slave?" chuckled Arceus from next to Amanda, as Dialga's faraway scowl resounded throughout the room, who was shocked for a second as she knew Arceus barely wanted to relive his old memories. "I know what you are thinking, but this one's special." he paused and embarrassingly added. "Even if I am insane in this one."
A loud wham signaled the entrance of someone, someone with a humanoid figure, very interesting for this section of the afterlife. It was clad in a dark black trench coat and matching fedora, suspiciously hiding any of its features.
"My liege!" the creature boomed, arms opening up into a wide hug like gesture. "I have heard you are to begin you're birthday gift again. And I wish to respectfully suggest a change to the format."
"WHY ARE YOU WEARING OVEN MITTS?..." groaned the Arceus that currently sat in the throne. And he was right, the mysterious figure wore yellow, floral print oven mitts instead of gloves.
"Do you think that means it's not human?" quizzed Amanda, rubbing her chin with her pen.
"I think it means it likes to bake." replied the Arceus that stood next to her. They were both in color, sticking out like a sore thumb in the black and white memory. Then again, it wasn't like anyone could see them.
"W-What?" the figure looked down upon its mitted hands. "Uhm..."
"GO ON? DO YOU WISH FOR COOKIES? I HEARD THE DARK SIDE LIKES THEM." interjected Arceus.
"Where did you get dark side from, my lord?" the mitted being quivered and stuttered. "I am but a simple servant of Arceus in dark clothing." the dark clothed creature hesitantly snickered.
"EXACTLY, DARK CLOTHING."
"Oh." the being bowed in humility and offered it's most benevolent of apologies. "As for the hands..." it looked around cautiously. "I have a very" it coughed, "specific fetish, sir." he answered in a broken manner.
"That was an interesting thing to hear the second I wake up..." groggily said the now normal Arceus, readjusting his position on the throne to a more comfortable one. "On to something less disturbing and not related to rubbing dough on yourself, what did you wish to suggest?"
"Ah yes," remembered the dark figure. "I was about to suggest that you modify the game show to a more dynamic and more enjoyable format."
"And what might that be?"
"Paintball."
---
"Paintball!?" roared Amanda. "Why?! I think that a game show is perfectly fine." The shadowy specter of more work loomed over her like an evil Rattata on a stick. It was in the top percentage of evil Rattata.
"IT IS MY BIRTHDAY." Arceus' sudden return to insanity stunned Meowth for a second, who now bore a look of confusion as this was too early for another spell of idiocy. "No, I'm just joshing with you." Amanda tried to hold back the floodgates containing an enormous quantity of expletives from her mind reading god. "And yes, it is my birthday."
She grumbled in defeat, deciding to stall the now looming pain she blurted out. "It's not even your real birthday? Why do you care!" Arceus shot her a smile, and suddenly a feeling of backstory dread fell over the feline.
The ancient and godly Pokemon began reciting one of his favorite lectures."My perception of time is different from yours, as with all legendaries-"
"And therefore one day to you is more like a minute to me, so to be fair I have my birthday every few thousand years or else to me the party would never stop, blah blah." Amanda brought an abrupt end to the lecture, having heard it on more than one occasion. Arceus scoffed.
"Well, back to the list then."
---
"Name?"
"Bag W. Von Forretress." cheerily piped in a very metallic Pokemon, its exterior being extremely durable and numerous defensive abilities made it a very tough nut to crack. Normally this species had a very dull and lifeless gaze, but this one was extremely happy.
"Likes?" asked Amanda, absent-mindedly tapping her pen and thinking of the previous person, or people, in the line. She couldn't rest her elbows on the desk anymore as it was bent out of shape.
"Hang on! Don't be a forgetful Pineco! Ask me and my shiny Forretress body about my gender, I will not allow my lustrous orb of Forretress brilliance to be discriminated!" The Meowth looked up from the cherry countertop, and sighed.
"You're a Beldum, so you're genderless." she calmly announced to the room, not just the Forretress impersonator. Light flooded in through a hole in the side wall, bathing Amanda in an illuminating light as she said this.
"W-W-What!" roared the Beldum, "How dare you insult my deliciously feminine yet sturdy and hardened shell of Forretress with such insinuations!" Amanda was a bit taken aback at what that sentence entailed.
"So, you're saying you're female?"
"Yes, I can bet my shining facade of Bug and Steel brilliance on it." Amanda penned it down thoughtfully, 'Gender: Lunatic.'
"Now then, likes?" buzzed Amanda, clearly bored with talking to idiots.
"Forretresses! They're my buddies and friends and they are so nice and friendly buddieful and friendnice to my Forretress self and they are awesome and smooth." Bag happily returned to simplistic vocabulary and a calmed state, her voice without a hint of delusion as she spoke.
"I see...smooth." Amanda paused extensively, tired of how the afterlife was filled with morons who had forgotten how to breath. "Phobias?"
"There's no air up here! What the deuces are you talking about." a mystical voice reverberated through Amanda's head, she could've sworn it was Arceus.
"Isn't it obvious, friend?" Friend? What, Amanda friends with Bag W. Von Forretress? Impossible! "Not being a Forretress is my greatest fear, its so scary being in the big world without a protective shell. Thankfully I'll never have to worry about not being a Forretress!" said the Beldum.
"Hometown?" almost everyone else in the room expected something along the lines of Forretressville or Forretress city.
"Route 228." Bag replied casually, "But a trainer who collected Forretresses like me caught me and took me arooooooound the world." the magnetic Pokemon said with a series of twirls.
"Cause of Death?" this time Amanda knew something Forretress related was coming; locked, loaded and-
"I think one of my Forretress buddies exploded!" Fired.
---
"Hmm? Why is there a drawing of a-"
"NOTHING! That's nothing! Eheheh." Amanda was sheepishly grinning, cheeks flushed and hands flailing like an unstable Aipom.
"Oh, oh. OH" Arceus started laughing. "You sly little minx. You sly, sly, talentless minx."
"Ehe- Wait what. Talentless?" Amanda glared at Arceus with a look of unamused resentment, just waiting to pop into anger.
"Obviously. Just look at this terrible craftsmanship, I mean I can not make out if this is a Burmy or a Dragonite! It is plain horrible!"
---
"Sooo..." a large, formidable looking dragon leaned on the counter, which appeared as if it could barely supporting his weight. Not that Amanda minded, his gleaming cream and orange scales matched with the now bent counter top beautifully. "Would you like to get dinner sometime?"
Amanda sighed at the Dragonite, but only managed to mumble out a barely coherent stream of "Purpler Munchshnuffloop"
"HEY!" boomed a voice from directly behind the draconic casanova, before he could spout a confused 'Purp..?What?'. "Step away from my lady!"
The dragon type swung around, smashing his tail into all the Pokemon immediately behind him. Sending each one flying into walls, paintings, chairs and bins.
"Ay caramba." groaned a Lotad as it was sent flying into a trash can. The Dragonite, satisfied he had removed all immediate competition and stifled others' future attempts, turned back around to Amanda.
"Hey!" the voice returned, surprisingly not carrying a painful wince like the Mexican lily pad.
"What?" bellowed the Dragonite, swirling around again.
"LOOK!"
"Where?!" the Dragon Pokemon seemed genuinely dumbfounded now.
"DOWN HERE YOU GLORIFIED SALAMANDER." the source of the voice was finally found, a dark gray bag worm wrapped in a cloak of leaves. "You want my lady, you'll have to fight me for her!"
The Dragonite started laughing.
"Hold on a minute!" interjected the target of their affections. "I don't belong to you, I don't see your name written on me!" she smugly put with a sense of finality echoing in her voice.
"Well, you see, we share the same name."
"Really, you're name's Amanda too?" she fluttered with a glow of hope emphasizing her question.
"No." the Burmy said sheepishly. "Not really, eheheh."
"ENOUGH!" exclaimed the Dragonite, breaking up the conversation before it turned sour for himself. "You asked for a fight, you're getting one." the Burmy was tiny compared to the giant dragon, which towered almost as high as the ceiling while the bag worm was the size of a Rattata.
From right there, the whole room seemed to warp the boundaries of time and turned into middle school. Scores of "Fight! Fight!" began chorusing throughout the lobby, the line parted like the red sea to allow for a makeshift battle arena and the combatants firmly and boldly took their sides.
"Prepare to feel the thunder." jeered the Burmy, as a small, very tipsy red panda waltzed its way into the center of the arena.
"Awright! This will be a one on one battle between." the spotted bear motioned to the Dragonite.
"Bobbery Gretchen Klaus."
"Bob Kwaus the Dragonite, and-"
"William M. Beall XII"
"And Wiww Beaww the Burmy! I am you're referee Derp McTwister the Spinda, BEGIW!" screamed the tipsy Pokemon at the top of his lungs, and the battle commenced.
---
"And that's what happened." groaned Amanda, not wishing to remember more of the scene.
"NO!" choked Arceus in dismay, "THIS WILL NOT STAND!" he wasn't feeling insane, as his jaw was hinged and pupils undilated. "WE MUST RETELL THE BATTLE, FOR IT MUST BE OF AWESOMIC PROPORTIONS!" being a god meant you could make up your own words with reckless abandon.
"How do you know?" sighed Amanda, suddenly shuddering with nausea from the devastation of the match.
"Trust me."
---
Bobbery roared, a signal that it was on and oh god was it on. He lowered his shoulder and with a flap of his disproportionate wings, charged through the air at Will. The extreme speed created by the shock left a flurry of disoriented spectators in its wake. Bobbery zoomed through where Will was standing and smashed straight into the wall, cracking the tiles and brickwork and leaving a giant, gaping hole. Taking this as a sure sign of the battle being over, he turned around and raised his arms in victory.
Bad move.
A fine string shot from inside the hole in the wall, and wrapped itself around the Dragon's very sensitive wings. And pulled.
"GWAAAAAAAAAAH!" screamed Bobbery in agony, the string painfully gluing his wings to each other, disabling him of flight.
"Ah, that was a refreshing change of pace. Most of my opponent's are just slightly weaker than you are." chuckled Will, dusting his cloak off from the impact.
In response the dragon whirled around, flames licking his maw. He opened his jaw wide and let loose a torrentious pillar of fire at the Bug type.
"Really?" Will sighed and shot a string of silk at the ceiling and reeled himself up with immense speed. Bobbery adjusted the Flamethrower accordingly, aiming the flaring cone upwards at the bag worm. Will sighed again, and flipped in midair. He shot another string at the floor then quickly cut it. He hastily repeated the process at different angles until he had curved his way to the side of Bobbery's face in less than a second.
The dragon didn't have enough time to react as the Burmy smashed into his cheek with tremendous force. Sending the large orange dragon to go reeling into a trashcan, a trashcan with a lily pad for a lid. A trash can that mumbled a broken "Ay carambaaa..."
Screaming and flailing wildly, he leapt upwards to fly but his sticky wings dropped him like a rock. Will shot a string at his foe's face, causing it to drip with web, and zoomed across the room with another line of silk. You could hear the Spiderman theme being sung in a Mexican accent.
"Had enough?" he beckoned, a tease to show he was gentlemanly enough to ask and awesome enough to boast. A muffled 'NRGH' sealed the dragon's fate. The Burmy winked at Amanda, who's face flushed with fear and awe, and shot a web at the dragon's face again. This time he followed it across the enormous room, spiraling like a drill.
Bobbery couldn't see anything but he heard the air around him hiss with supersonic speed, spiraling into a gush of wind that was getting closer by the millisecond.
Will roared with a look of fury, and smashed into his foe's face. The dragon spun in tandem with Will from the force of the impact and both were sent careening through the wall and into the street.
Will stood victorious on the knocked out dragon's protruding belly, who's tongue was hanging and eyes dazedly spinning from pain. Will spoke one phrase. "Get me some sunglasses and one of The Who's Albums."
As they were in the afterlife, all materialistic wishes were granted instantly. A pair of sunglasses as large as Will himself floated down dramatically and perched themselves on his manly nose, and an album of The Who started playing. The Burmy took his foot and slapped the dragon back to consciousness.
"Listen up," he said, eyes meeting Bobbery's, "I am William M. Beall XII," he growled at the now terrified dragon "and that," a pool of yellow liquid formed on the street beneath the Dragonite, "Will Beall."
"YEAAAAAAAA-"
"No!" interjected a voice, booming from inside Will's head.
"What?" the Burmy craned his head around. "Where is this voice coming from!?"
"That doesn't matter, just pretend I am your conscience, or a cricket." Will could hear the voice clearing its throat, inside his head, and subsequently flinched in disgust. "I am here to tell you something, references must be subtle and incorporated seamlessly, not just blatantly fired off like a broken siren! Especially not ending with a reference."
"Ending what?"
"Uh, nothing, so long and thanks for all the fish!" the voice disappeared from Will's thoughts, feeling as if a freeloading burden just showed itself out of his mind.
-----
I apologise if it is too dialogue heavy, some of the opening chapters are going to be that way, so bear with me. Until then, bye, mainly because my foot has fallen asleep. :c
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