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Fever Pitch

Discussion in 'Fan Fiction' started by Drat, Aug 6, 2011.

  1. Drat

    Drat Don't Bother None

    Yeah, I'm restarting this. I really let myself down last time not following through, but I'm sure I'll do better this time.

    Fever Pitch: A Tale of Winners, Weirdos, and Weathermen​

    Rated PG-15 for sexual innuendo, violence, and some more some more sexual innuendo.​

    Chapter One. Coffee Beans Don’t Lie.

    “C’mon Professor! Why can’t you let me have the shiny Charmander? I swear I’ll make it really strong one day!”

    “Well Aqua, if you promise to one day become the best trainer in the world I can give him to you.”

    “Wow! Thanks Professor! Look! He already likes me!”

    “Haha! Well now isn’t tha-"

    The TV screened flashed to black, cutting off the show’s Professor mid-sentence. The small box, having been silenced, quickly faded into the background of the room. The room itself was small with blue walls, and a lone window poured soft morning light in, highlighting floating dust particles and leaving one brilliant ray to find its way onto Chance Roades’ face, still in bed. A couple of Pidove outside chirped idly, talking of whatever dumb things Pidove talk about. Anime, probably. The young boy squirmed and turned over in his bed feeling the familiar morning haziness he always did after a bad night’s rest. The bed creaked and cracked under the boy's weight, apparently just as tired as he was.

    “Chance! Time to get up!”

    A middle aged woman stood among the mess of Chance’s room. Stepping carefully over a few discarded cans of PokeCola, the woman placed the young boy’s TV remote back on to his dresser. She bent down closer to the dresser with a suspicious blue eye before blowing a layer of dirt off it. A cloud flew up in the air, disturbed at having been woken from its happy slumber, before falling back on to its rightful place. Chance’s mom frowned.

    “Honestly Chance, I don’t see how you get this room so dirty! If you’re not careful all this dust will get in your lungs... and then what? Dust cancer! That’s what!”

    The mother put her hands on her hips and wiped some dust off on her white apron, a homemade set of letters stitched in the side spelling out “Love you Mom.” Furrowing her brow, Vi, as her real name was, kicked the side of Chance’s bed. It gave a good rattle before staying still again. The Pidove flew away, deciding to find a better place to talk about their precious anime, one where women wouldn’t disturb them. Odd, as this was rarely a problem for them.

    “Do you ever listen to me anymore? I swear I feel like I’m talking to a brick wall sometimes.”

    The mountain of blankets and pillows squirmed again before a messy head of dark green hair slowly arose.

    “I get it mom. Dust bad. Brick wall good.”

    Chance laid his head down again on the pillow under him. Narrowing her eyes, Vi quickly pulled the blankets off of the bed, leaving Chance exposed in nothing but his boxers. Laying on the bed now was a pale body, skinnier than most, fragile as some would say. Suitable, as his mother often treated him like a walking glass house. Chance quickly rolled out of bed with a gasp.

    “Jeez Mom! I’m in my boxers! I’m up! I’m up! Just get out of my room!” he said, obviously not flustered in any way whatsoever.

    Chance’s mom grinned at her success. She walked casually over to the side of the bed where Chance hurried to cover his body with the blanket again. Wrapping his body up first then his head like an Arab women in the streets. The boy let out an annoyed huff and a mean pair of bright green eyes shone forth from him. Chance’s mom ignored them and walked out of the room, but not before leaving one final comment to fill the air,

    “Don’t “Jeez” me Chance! It’s not like you have anything I haven’t seen before!”

    Chance’s cheeks quickly shone red. In his defense, it was kind of a gross thing to say.


    Chance came walking down the stairs just having gotten out of the shower. After a few moments of wrestling his hair, the young boy gave up and the triumphant green mess assumed its rightful place as the leading “Mop Hairdo” in New Wave, Johto. Taking a few moments to smooth out his school outfit, a plain white button up and black slacks, Chance walked into the kitchen and quickly sat down at the table. Spotting a newspaper lying on the counter next to him, the 14 year old took it up with his hands to search through the headlines.

    Page 1 first.

    “Trainer breaks record for most gyms beat!”

    Boring, right? Page 2.

    “Johto Grandmother survives encounter with wild Ursaring! Amazing!”

    Who wants to read about Grandmas? Page 3.

    “Explosions! Boob! Fart!”

    Pfft, like anyone likes those things. Page 4.

    “Stocks take a slight downturn for Watanabe industries. CEO comments.”

    Chance quickly set the other pages down and went to work reading the page. Articles about explosions? Boobs? Really? What kind of newspaper publishes those things, Chance thought, skimming over the stock article. There’s a children’s section of the Newspaper for a reason. Chance was halfway through the article, albeit not understanding a word of it, before his mother came down with her brown hair fixed into a tight bun.

    “Good Morning my beautiful son!” she sang, opening the blinds and letting light into the room.

    Chance turned from the intruding brightness and grunted in response.

    “What do you want for breakfast today, sweetie?” she sang again, now sashaying towards her son.

    Chance laid the paper down and looked up at his mom, who was now practically bending over him in anticipation of the answer.

    “I’m just gonna’ have coffee. I’ll make it.” He said, sliding out of his chair and walking over to the counter where his father’s coffee maker waited. The black machine groaned and sputtered at the thought of having to do anything. It was old, probably older than the house itself. I suppose if it had legs it would have jumped off the counter and ran as far away as it could have, but this story doesn’t get that weird so soon.

    “Coffee?!” she cried, “First Dust, and now Coffee? What’s next? Heroin?! Oh my sweet baby boy can’t end up jail for Heroin! He won’t last a minute! You know how crazy those people in jail are! They’ll scoop up a little boy like you in no time!”

    Chance shook his head bitterly and grabbed a bag of coffee grounds from the pantry as his mother continued on.

    “Oh! My poor little boy!”

    “I’m not a little boy, mom! Coffee isn’t going to hurt me!” Chance spat. crushing the coffee grounds slightly in his hands

    Vi backed off and looked down sullenly before brightening up again. She brought her hands up to her chest as her eyes took on a dreamy state, the kind mother’s get while at their son’s graduation or the when they think about all those crazy nights they spent taking tequila shots in downtown Goldenrod.

    “Oh!! I get it!” she said with a deep smile.

    “You want to be a big boy just like your father!”

    Chance began pouring the coffee grounds into the machine. It let out a few gurgled objections. Somewhere, deep in its coffee making heart, it died a little.

    “Oh that is so cute! I’ll have to tell your cousin Sherry all about this!” She said gleaming in joy.

    Chance closed the machine and punched a few buttons. The machine slowly worked itself into action with a low, mechanical crunch.

    Chance was about to turn around when all of sudden he felt his mother fall onto him an embrace from behind. He immediately tensed up as she squeezed him hard. Her arms wrapped around her son like a snake in a death grip. His eyes widened as he felt her full chest on his back. It was strange, he felt small, like really small. Like he was just a little kid again, not even big enough to see over the kitchen counter. His whole body froze. Nothing but the quiet rumbling of coffee maker wishing it was dead in the background. After a few seconds of intense awkwardness, things got even more awkward as his mother whispered,

    “You’re going to be a great man someday, Chance. I know it.”

    Chance’s cheeks shone red again. He quickly broke free of the grasp and headed for the door, grabbing his black backpack along the way.

    “I’m going to school.”

    “But what about your big boy coffee?” his mom pleaded before the door slammed shut.

    A few seconds later the coffee maker exploded, fed up with the irrationality of the human race.


    The morning had brightened up even more as Chance walked slowly toward school. The boy shielded his eyes from the harsh glare. A rising sun was making its way over New Wave, lighting up the various small shops and stalls around, most still closed.

    “…Stupid sun…”

    To Chance, it looked like a big monster, rising from the ground, like it was slowly going to burn up the entire town with its rays. And the stalls just represented these insignificant people trying to get ahead of everyone else while this slow, nameless monster was descending upon them. Chance spat on to the ground next to him and kept walking forward. Was it normal for 13 year olds to have these kind of thoughts? He didn’t care.

    “Chance! Chance!” a shrill voice called out.

    Chance stopped and closed his eyes with a sigh, knowing exactly who it was. Aide Perrera finally arrived at his side, out of breath and bending over with her hands on her knees. She lifted her head up quick, causing her short orange hair to flip around. Under that a pair of vibrantly awake yellow eyes shone. Still out of breath, her dark red flushed cheeks pumped up and down. Overall she was full of mismatched color, the only thing organized about her being the simple black skirt and white shirt she was forced to wear as a school uniform. Chance certainly thought she was full of something, though it wasn’t color. Methane, probably.

    “You left early today, huh?” she said in between breaths. “I had to run just to catch up to you!”

    Chance cast his eyes away.

    “My mom was bein’ weird. I had to get out.”

    Aide brought her bright green backpack around and fished inside of it. She finally brought out her desired objects, a couple of PokeCereal Bars. It should be noted that the entire world seems to have this obsession with the prefix “Poke”. It’s like adding that before any generic thing suddenly makes the item in question more valuable. Often these PokeObjects will have brightly colored sugars, stickers, and other things that generally make parents want to gag. Kids find them irresistible though. How strange.

    “See! I brought two! Want one?” she said with a bright smile.

    Chance detested these kinds of foods but the rumbling in his stomach was plotting to betray him. Chance gave it a mental punch to its stomach-face and shook his head.

    “I already drank a cup of coffee this morning.” He said in his best “I don’t care about the thing I just said” voice.

    Certainly, if stomachs had mouths, Chance’s would have shouted “Liar! You Lie!” But they do not, so instead it just sat there and... digested.

    “Blech! That stuff grosses me out.” Aide said, lowering the sugary bars back into her backpack. “I’ll just save these for later then!”

    After a few minutes the two arrived at the outer edges of PTLA, or Pokemon Trainer League Academy. The name made it sound much more prestigious than it actually was. It was nothing more than a medium sized concrete building with a couple bushes planted around the side. Badly drawn chalk images of pokemon lay scattered in the lot, vestiges of kindergarten recess. Chance avoided their brightly colored eyes, which was hard considering most of them had eyes looking in two different directions.

    Aide stopped and bent down to pet the drawing of a Shuckle.

    “Aren’t they cute?” she cooed.

    “You know I don’t like those things.” Chance said, staring uncomfortably at the cross eyed pokemon. “They’re weird.”

    “C’mon! He just wants a hug!” Aide said, lying down on the chalk. “Here, just pet him once.”

    “Why would I pet a chalk drawing?” He groaned, turning away from the Shuckle.

    “Oh, I’ll love you, Shucky!” Aide said.

    “You’re weird, Aide.” Chance said, waiting for the girl.

    “You say that about everyone!” Aide said hopping up.

    Chance flashed his head over to Aide with an angry look, “No I don’t!”

    Aide began shaking her head up and down furiously.

    “What about Mrs. Pear? You called her weird yesterday!”

    Chance looked shocked.

    “Well she is!”

    Aide shook her head dismissively.

    “And then the day before that it was Corrin. Before that it was Denny Horowitz. Before that-“

    Chance held up his hand in a stop motion.

    “Those were all isolated cases. They really were being weird!”

    “Just today you called your mom weird! And then it was poor little Shucky! And now it’s me! I think you’re the weird one, Chance!”

    Chance stayed quiet for a second.

    It was a true in a way. He was different than everyone else. He drank coffee. (kind of) He read real articles in the newspaper. It’d been like that his whole life. He never wanted to just ‘play’. He simply wanted to be left alone. But everyone else was always being so, well, for lack of a better word, weird that he had to comment on it. It seemed like everyone else around was always acting immature and he was the only voice of reason.

    Aide pushed her face close to Chance’s with a searching look in her eyes.

    “Yep! Looks like you have a full on case of denial!”

    Chance recoiled.


    Aide shuck her head up and down again.

    “Stage Three I’d say. The worst case I’ve seen in all my life.”

    “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

    Aide pulled out a stethoscope from her backpack.

    “I so do! I’m a doctor! See my stethoscope? Shiny, huh?”

    The sunlight glistened off of the medical device. It was brand new.

    “Like it? My daddy got me one! You know he’s never home so sometimes he sends me cool stuff like this!”

    Chance turned his nose up.

    “You probably don’t even know how to use that!”

    Aide’s eyes got big.

    “I so do! Watch!”

    Aide sprang upon Chance pushing the medical device into his ear. Chance writhed around, gasping for breath.

    “Stay still! I gotta find the heart beat!”

    Chance gave up struggling and lay there with a frown on his face. Aide placed the stethoscope on his chest.

    “I don’t hear it…”

    “Put the tong-things in your ears.”

    “Those things? I thought they were for spaghetti…”

    Aide placed the stethoscope properly into her ears and listened.

    Thud. Thud. Thud.

    A wide smile went over her face.

    “There’s the beat, nurse!”

    Chance rolled his eyes.

    “Very good Doctor Aide. Let me up now?”

    Aide rolled off of the boy who stood up and dusted himself off.

    Aide gently placed the stethoscope back into her backpack, making sure not to harm it.

    “You’re so smart, Chance.” Aide grinned.

    After a short walk the pair arrived at the big glass doors to the school lobby. The school loomed over them and the sun was at the pair’s back, seemingly pushing them into the concrete establishment. Inside the chirping of the School’s meager staff could be heard. Pep Band meeting after school, the Soccer scrimmage in a week, but it all seemed so useless to Chance, who never had joined any extracurricular activity in his life. The two looked at each other, Chance with a frown, Aide still smiling. It was another day. Chance couldn’t help but let out a sad sigh. Aide took his hand and grinned largely.

    “Aww! Don’t be so sad little Chancey!” Aide said, teasing.

    Chance’s hand writhed and squirmed around uncomfortably in the girl’s grasp, trying to escape, but it was to no avail. He gave up before saying plainly, in a matter of fact tone,

    “Don’t call me that.”

  2. Shinymonkey8

    Shinymonkey8 Well-Known Member

    I actually really like this!

    You have such an awesome writing style! Your great at humor, and you have good description, imagery, and character development. I have zero problems with your writing style whatsoever.

    The only problem I really could find with this chapter is that I thought you took the whole cliche mom thing a little overboard. Sure, if you want that kind of a mom... But yikes...

    Hopefully the story kicks off in the next few chapters, because so far it's the life of an average teenage boy... A very well written life of an average teenage boy at that...

    Looking forward to more chapters! Good job on this.
  3. Drat

    Drat Don't Bother None

    Thanks for the quick review Shiny. :D

    Do you think his Mom came off a bit strong? Maybe she was a bit too forceful. The thing is that I really had to breathe strong life into the characters surrounding chance seeing as how he is just kind of average on all standards. Nobody wants to read about John Doe walking to school. I hope you'll stick around for the next two chapters as Chapter 3 is where things really kick off.
  4. Shinymonkey8

    Shinymonkey8 Well-Known Member

    I did think it was an interesting kick off to the story, as it definitely got me interested. Looking back, I think you actually managed to write an interesting average, dull day. I don't remember finding myself bored with the story.

    Maybe a little too strong on the cliche mom, but it's up to you. Some of her lines made me wince, and some made me chuckle, but it found a harmony somehow.

    I'm sure I'll stick around till things get interesting.
  5. Maree

    Maree Fireball In The Dark

    O.O ...OH MY GOSH, that was just...Wow. I'm so following this story. Where's the "Subscribe to Thread" button?? *scrolls up, finds button, clicks, scrolls back down* ^_^

    Like Shiny here, I have absolutely no problem with your writing style what so ever. It made me laugh, and anything that makes me laugh, I like. Especially the mom – yeah, she was waaaaaay to over the top, but that's what made her funny! In fact, a good third of the things that made me laugh were things she said/did. She is truly a memorable character. ^-^

    I just have one little conundrum: first you said Chance was 14, then you said he was 13...twice. So I'm just really confused here; exactly how old is he? >.<
    Last edited: Aug 8, 2011
  6. Drat

    Drat Don't Bother None

    Oh hey, Maree! :p

    Thanks for the review as always. After some thinking I decided to let Chance's Mom just stay where she is in character. And did I really leave that inconsistency in there? I really thought I had this chapter spot free. Guess you never can get it perfect without a different set of eyes. He's supposed to be 13, right in the beginnings of puberty. (Fun, right?) Again, thanks for reading and reviewing! :D
  7. Drat

    Drat Don't Bother None

    A short chapter, but setting up for a big part of the story.


    Chapter Two: Larry Has A Heart Condition.

    “Lucien Ferreri?”


    “Denny Horowitz?”


    A couple of children giggled as Denny sat back with his arms crossed, a stupid grin on his face. He was obviously pleased with the terrible joke, if you could call it that. Chance just shook his head.

    “Very funny Denny.” The teacher said, unimpressed. Ms. Gregory was her name.

    Most people just called her ‘Old Greg’.

    Old Greg scratched off Denny’s name in her notebook and turned to the rest of the class, her gray hair bobbing slightly as she did so. Chance had to admit, for as old as she was she was quite the spry woman.

    “Alright, now is Chance Roades here?”

    “Yes.” Chance said, waiting for Old Greg to mark him off before putting his head down on his desk.

    Ah, here it was in its full glory! School! Even the word evoked pictures of meat grinders and funeral processions to Chance. In all reality, though, PTLA was just what the contrived acronym said it was; a place for future pokemon trainers to come learn about things that would never in a million years help them later in life. Science, English and Brown Nosing 101 were the standards, of course. But it also incorporated several even more useless classes into its curriculum. Classes like Pokemon Ecology, Battle Theory, and one special class called Battle Education, or B.E. for short. It was in this class where young trainers got to use the school’s rather worn out pokemon to battle each other. Well, today was B.E. day.

    Aide leaned over and whispered into Chance’s ear.

    “Hey! I think you’re on for battle today, Chance!”

    Chance just shrugged his arms.

    “Aren’t you excited Chancey? You get to use pokemon! How cool is that?” Aide said, her eyes shining.

    Chance lifted his head up slightly and said plainly,

    “Aide. I know I’m not gonna win, there’s no point in even trying.”

    Aide slammed her hands down on Chance’s desk,


    “Aide Perrera!” The teach snapped out.

    Aide slid down in her seat sullenly.


    The Teacher went back to taking names. Aide leaned over again, making sure to speak softer now.

    “I know for a fact you’re going to win, Chancey! Denny isn’t half as smart as you!”

    “I told you to stop calling me Chancey, Aide.” Chance said. “It’s weird.”

    “Oh! I’m sorry Chancey! I didn’t mean to! Oh! I just did it again didn’t I, Chancey?”

    Chance sighed out heavily.

    “Alright class let’s head to the gym!”

    At the teacher’s word a chorus of squeaks erupted as the class scooted out of their desks and ran to the door. The class arrived in the small facility, the sound of sneakers rubbing on the lacquered wood floor. Chance took his position in the middle of the gym across from his opponent, who called out loudly,

    “Ok, Chancey, looks like it’s you and me today! I won’t lose! Believe it!”

    Denny Horowitz, he even sounded like a douche. He had that typical “I’ll Be The Best Trainer That There Ever Was” thing going on. Like somehow he out of the millions of other pokemon trainers would be the one to finally step up and beat the Elite Four. In fact the only one that ever did beat the elite four was a complete nutcase. A mute, obsessive, child named after the color Red. Imagine the weirdo family he came from.

    Denny pointed a finger towards Chance and flipped his spiky black hair to the side, no doubt in an attempt to impress the girls of the class.

    “So what do you think about that?”

    Chance slid his hands in his pockets. What was the point in trying? They weren’t at the pokemon Leauge or anything. They were in the school gym. A rather sorry looking place to begin with anyways. There had to have been a basket ball goal here at one point as the court had been painted with the typical red organizing lines, but there was no such goal in sight. Only a few fluorescent lights even worked, trying their best to illuminate the open gym and making quite an annoying little buzz in the process.

    “Well Chancey? Can’t you say anything?”

    “I honestly could not care less Denny. Let’s just get this over with.”

    “Alright then Chancey-boy! Time for you to lose! Believe it!” Denny said, twirling around in circles and grabbing a pokeball off his belt as dramatically as he could. He threw the pokeball down and it exploded in a brilliant display of light. Children “ooed” and “awed” before seeing...

    Larry. Larry the Caterpie, it was a tiny little green caterpillar creature with a giant head and small red antennae. The bug gave a slight cough and looked around the room with squinted eyes. Larry was about as old as Johto itself and could barely move itself around coherently. It was also blind. You see, the school couldn’t allow the children to have strong pokemon, so every once in a while one of the professors would donate one of their pokemon that weren’t as powerful to let the kids use. Unfortunately, these pokemon were usually on their last legs, some more literally than others.

    Chance sighed, a skill he’d all but mastered at this point in his life. He tossed the ball into the middle of the gym, well, tossed is the wrong word. He mostly just kind of dropped it. The pokeball burst open to reveal a Skitty. An incredibly fat Skitty. Petunia. The normally small pink cat pokemon had ballooned to a whopping 60 pounds and it lay on its side rather than stand up. In fact the thing looked more like a beached Wailord then a Skitty and it sounded about the same. It lifted its head up lazily and let out,


    A couple kids laughed as somewhere, deep in the Johto ocean, a very confused Wailord searched for its lost lover. Chance didn’t blink.

    Old Greg stepped out into the middle of the two pokemon. The gray haired lady put her hands together and said,

    “Alright now, children! Lets have a nice clean battle! Just be careful with Larry and Petunia here, ok? They’re antiques!”

    “Okay Larry!” Denny said, twirling around again in that kind of flashy way. “Use String Shot to slow it down!”

    Slow it down? It’s not even moving for christ’s sake. Chance thought idly.

    Nevertheless the small caterpillar wandered blithely around, bumping into a couple students before finally making its way over to Petunia. The two were practically inches away from each other. Larry coughed a little bit again and released a few dusty looking pieces of string onto Petunia’s face, before falling over unconscious. Apparently it was just too much for the poor Caterpie to take as Larry went into a massive seizure and was subsequently “KOed” as they say in Battle Education.

    Meanwhile, Petunia used Rest, though not on the order of its Trainer. Chance tried hard not to do the same.

    Greg came over and inspected Larry before jumping up excitedly,

    “Larry is unable to breathe! Chance is the winner!”

    “Nooo!! My dreams!! I’m heartbroken! Believe it! Arrgg...” At that point Denny went into a set of convulsions before being “KOed” as they say in the New Wave Children’s Hospital.

    Nobody noticed though as a crowd had formed around Chance. This was after all, the best battle PTLA had seen in many, many years. A couple professors shook his hand as his fellow classmates began chanting his name. Chance slid his hands and his pockets and sighed. How dumb were these people? Aide ran over and congratulated Chance happily. While the crowd dispersed, Aide went with Chance to an empty gym corner and sat down onto the cold wood floor as the teacher set up for another battle.

    “You did awesome Chance! Everyone really liked that!” Aide said with another smile.

    Chance shrugged his shoulders.

    “I didn’t do anything. Larry just kinda died. It’s not like anybody actually cared that I won. They’re all just easily excited.”

    A small silence set in before Aide moved in closer.

    “I care that you won.”

    “Yeah... right.” said Chance, looking away from her bright gaze.

    “No! I really do!” She said, trying to get him to look at her.

    “Well, thanks I guess...” Chance said. He peered up to see the rest of the kids playing tag. The game personally had no bearing on him, in fact he hated those kind of rituals, they led nowhere. Why spend time chasing some other kid just so he can chase you back? It just didn’t make any sense. But, why? Why didn’t he want to play? He wrapped his arms around his knees and lowered his face a little.

    “Listen,” he started, “You don’t have to sit here just for me. You can go play tag with the others if you want.”

    “What?” Aide said confused. “I don’t mind sitting here at all! I mean, you’re fun to talk to and... stuff.”

    The two sat in silence for a while. The sound of the playing kids drifted their way and it seemed to make them both uncomfortable.

    Suddenly Aide brightened up.

    “Listen,” she said with that kind of bubbly excitement little girls get when they get a new doll or whatever it is girls get excited over, “my parents are out of town and I have the whole house to myself. You should come over tonight! We can play some games and I have a couple movies we could watch...” Aide looked over at Chance pleadingly, “Please?”

    Chance couldn’t fight that. To say no, even after she sat down with him and complimented him would be quite the douche move. And he was no Denny Horowitz. He looked at her with a halfway smile. She was prettier than he remembered, her face was hard and rough but it had this kind of light that illuminated everything around it. And was that... paint on her face? There were a couple splotches of bright yellow and blue around her cheeks that looked fairly recent, like they’d happened this morning.

    “Sure. Sounds fun.” he said happily.

    Aide hopped up, equally happy.

    “Good! It’s settled than! Be at my house tonight around 7!”

    Chance stood up next to her. Aide motioned towards the other kids getting ready for the next battle. It looked like Lucien Ferreri was taking on Corrin What’s-his-face.

    Hopefully nobody’s pokemon would die this time.

    “Ready to go?” Aide said, with a hand outstretched.

    Chance nodded with a big grin and took the girl’s hand and began walking over to watch the battle.

    “Oh yeah. Aide?”



    “No problem! Hey, is Denny dead?”

    “I hope so.”


    The school bells finally rung as a flood of children came barreling out of the concrete building. It would be easy to compare them to a herd of Tauros or Zebstrika, but that would be insulting to Zebstrika and Tauros everywhere. Anyways, Chance and Aide were left to stand in the wake. Chance took out a sheet of paper and began writing down directions.

    “So I have to go through what route again to get to your house?”

    “Oh I just told you a minute a go, silly! How is this so hard?” Aide said teasingly.

    “It’s not my fault you live in the middle of a frikkin’ jungle!” Chance said, crumpling the paper in his hands.

    “Forest, Chance. It’s a forest. And it’s Route 69, you’ll see a little path eventually.”

    Chance wrote the name down.

    “Ok.” Chance said, stuffing the paper down into his backpack.

    “Try not to get lost” Aide said, walking away.

    “I won’t!” Chance shouted back.

    The clouds covering the sky seemed to disappear as a quick, gentle breeze ran throughout the school’s parking lot. The sun shone brilliantly forth and Chance stood quietly, smiling, taking in the afternoon rays. He breathed in deeply, the smell of spring coming to a close, summer on its way.


    It’s that time when Snow gently falls to the ground.

    What’s that? Snow doesn’t fall in the Summer?

    You’d be surprised.

    Just ask Chance Roades.
    Last edited: Aug 10, 2011
  8. Shinymonkey8

    Shinymonkey8 Well-Known Member

    That... Was the funniest thing I have read in a long time. You've got a great sense of humor!

    It was also the best battle I've ever read by far, and no, I am not being sarcastic haha!

    You also managed to slip in some great character development inside the humor. Chance is beginning to wonder why he's so antisocial and how it's affecting his life. Meanwhile, Aide is, I believe, trying to create a relationship between them without Aide noticing. She's also trying to crack that hard shell of Chance's.

    Great chapter! I only saw one typo, and that was an extra comma, so nothing big. Also, if you were wondering, you don't pluralize Pokemon names. Might want to keep that little part out, as it breaks the flow of the story somewhat. No big deal though.

    Once again, I'm looking forward to more of this!

  9. Drat

    Drat Don't Bother None

    Thanks for following up reading the seocnd chapter!

    I really stressed over that middle part with Chance and Aide, wondering if it was too soon to put that out there, but I think it worked out good. I edited that part out after some thinking, deciding it would be better to keep the flow going in that particular part. I might be posting the third chapter a bit sooner than I did for this chapter so watch out.
  10. bob517

    bob517 Shiny Hunter

    Pm list please!
  11. Maree

    Maree Fireball In The Dark

    Definitely an entertaining chapter, but I can’t help but feel bad for pour old Larry ): Although not Denny, that little spiky-haired dweeb had it coming to him…what? He did.

    Shiny basically said everything I was gonna say about the chapter so I’ll just say, “I second Shinny’s opinion” =)

    I'm still getting addicted to the story & I can’t wait for the next chapter ^-^
  12. Drat

    Drat Don't Bother None

    What? We need a plot to write Fan Ficition? Since when?

    Well... here goes nothin.

    Chapter Three: Snow Day

    Waving goodbye to his Mother, Chance started out towards route 69. It was later than he had expected to be leaving as he had spent much of his time trying to convince his Mother that he and Aide would, in fact, not be having children anytime soon. Seriously, gross. A darkness had set in over New Wave, and the only thing guiding him at this point was the full moon. Casting a cold and unwavering glare, the white beast begrudgingly led Chance near the edge of town. He could hear crickets in the background, chirping, but had no way to reference them seeing as how a Cricket Pokemon didn’t actually exist. But if it did it would totally be Dark/Bug because that’s just awesome.

    Remembering Aide’s directions, he started out beyond New Wave’s limits and began walking down a tiny Route, Route 69 in fact. While most Routes were clearly paved and happy, this route was filled with overgrown trees, potholes, and sexual innuendo. Every tree seemed to grow in the most peculiarly sexual way. Chance had to recoil at a particularly strange set of oaks that appeared to be groping one other. It was a good 10 minutes before he finally spotted the pathway to Aide’s house. At least, he thought it was. The pathway itself was even more overgrown than the main route and was nothing more than forest trail that had been walked through several times.

    The boy took a deep breath before starting in to the mess. He swept a couple of probing branches (take that any way you want, folks) out of his way, climbing further into an increasingly thick forest. It was a couple minutes before the path disappeared completely. It was nothing but thick forest now, and Chance desperately pushed through it. His breaths were becoming more and more hurried; some unknown galactic force was making him push forward. He was compelled to keep going. He stumbled, but increased his speed to make up time. He was running now, in a dead sprint. He felt like there was something chasing him. The woods around him became a green blur, threatening to consume his whole being. And where the hell was that monster? He knew there was one. There had to have been, but he couldn’t look back. If he did who knows what would happen. His breaths became frantic, nearing break-neck pace. He just kept running until finally...

    A break.

    A clearing stretched out before him, a small circular clearing. Chance took a moment to catch his breath and close his eyes, leaning over with his hands on his knees. But then, he heard something, was that... singing?

    “I am the destroyer. Oh yes I am the destroyer of worlds... But maybe,” the voice sang beautifully. “Maybe tonight we can play a little game of tag... and let the world destroy itself...”

    Chance’s body froze up.

    What in God’s name was that?

    Slowly he opened his eyes.

    In front of him was a curvaceous woman. She was older than him, maybe in her twenties. She was laying on her side, turned away from Chance. The sleek figure was pulling grass from the ground and letting it fall idly by her side. Her outfit, nothing more than a pair of short black bicycle shorts and a tight pink t-shirt stood in contrast to the bleach white set of hair she had on her head. It was long, coming down to the middle of her back and though she was laying on the ground, no dirt or leaves found themselves on her, as if even the earth recoiled at her presence.

    Chance felt the hair on his neck stand up, he stuttered out,

    “Uh... H-Hello?”

    The woman took a moment to pull a particularly resistant clump of grass from the ground. Squeezing hard, she crushed the poor blades, clumping them in a ball, forming them into the shape she desired before letting them fall to the ground. Then, slowly she turned over to Chance with a seductive smile on her face. A pair of dull pink eyes looked the poor boy over maliciously. Chance couldn’t help but notice the long rip in her shirt starting at the front of the neck and going down to reveal a significant amount of, well, skin. She started,

    “I’m just an illusion, you know. This is all a dream. Wake up, now.”

    “What?” Chance gasped. Quickly pinching himself on the arm he determined that this was not, in fact, a dream. He came back,

    “I’m... I’m not dreaming. Who the hell are you?”

    The woman frowned.

    “Well then who is dreaming?” She slid up from the ground like a snake, flowing over to Chance who started to back up nervously against the tree-line.

    “Well then it must be my dream. And that means I can do anything I want with you.”

    The woman stared down maliciously over the boy.

    Chance turned his head away from the woman, avoiding her eyes and other parts of her body.

    “You’re a weirdo. This is real life. Get a clue already.” He growled. “Who are you anyways?”

    The woman frowned, apparently disappointed.

    “Well if you must know...”

    Leaping up into the air the woman exploded into a vibrant display of fireworks and confetti. Red, blue, and yellow strips blasted out in all directions. Party horns began blaring and suddenly a giant stage appeared before Chance. From somewhere a spotlight shone down to the stage where a mic stood in the center. The woman appeared in the middle wearing a top hat and suit, now. She grabbed the mic with both hands and cried out,

    “I’m that ethereal being, Snow! Adventurer of Reality! Maker of Dreams! Let all who gaze upon my beauty both curse and give praise their makers!”

    A couple more fireworks went off in the distance. A giant pair of hands appeared, applauding enthusiastically at the display. Suddenly everything exploded into more confetti.

    Chance pinched himself again.

    The woman, Snow apparently, reappeared.

    She bent over with her hands on her hips and stared down ruefully at Chance. Turning her nose up she mocked in a nasally voice,

    “Got a clue yet?”

    Chance hardened his face.

    “Whatever. I don’t know who you are, lady, but I’m not staying around here anymore. And I don’t sound like that either!”

    Chance turned around and began walking toward where he entered the clearing when he suddenly felt himself flying backwards. He landed on his back and cried out in pain, feeling his spine crack,

    “What the hell was that?!”

    Snow appeared over him in a revealing nurse’s outfit now. Chance’s face turned red.

    “Oh? Did little Chancey have a fall? Want Nurse Snow to make it all better?”

    Chance’s eyes widened as the woman climbed on to him and began feeling around his body.

    “Get offa’ me you crazy witch!”

    Chance struggled but before he knew it his entire being became weighted down. Every part of him seemed to be 1000 times heavier than it usually did. Snow brought out a pair of defibrillators.

    “Looks like our patient has a bad case of denial, doctor.” She said in her best nurse voice.

    Chance’s brain shuddered at the word ‘denial’. He’d heard that from someone before. In fact, it happened earlier that day. Aide on top of him, feeling around his chest with a stethoscope, and then the diagnosis. Denial. Why did everyone say that? More importantly, what was the connection between this strange woman and Aide? Chance’s thoughts were cut off as Snow yelled out dramatically, bring the devices up high into the air,


    She brought the pads down hard, sending an incredible amount of electricity throughout young Chance’s body, lighting him up with a yellow coat of energy and frying his hair, which now stuck up like a scene out of a cheesy cartoon. His eyes began to roll back in his head.

    “Oh doctor! I think we used too much juice! Is he still alive?”

    The would-be Nurse brought out a stethoscope and began feeling around Chance’s chest roughly.

    “Oh! He’s alive!” She cried out with tears in her eyes. “I think I’ve found the problem, doctor!”

    “What doctor are you talking to? What problem?” Chance said in between a gasp for air.

    In one quick, daft movement Snow jammed her right hand into Chance’s chest, seemingly phasing through the skin. Chance tried not to pass out.

    “It’s gotta be in here somewhere,” She said searching her arm around. “Oh what’s that? It’s all squishy! Hmm... Is this it?”

    “Be careful in there!” Chance cried out, his voice cracking a bit.

    Suddenly Snow’s face lit up.

    “I’ve found the problem, doctor!”

    “What problem?” Chance tried again.

    In one more quick motion Snow ripped her hand out of Chance’s chest, shouting,

    “It’s all these numbers!”

    Chance’s eyes widened in horror and amazement. In her hand now was a large set of orange, glowing numbers. Each one, about the size and thickness of a large index card, seemed to be linked to one another in an invisible chain and they moved with the consistency of a long line. 6826018372... it went on. But did it have meaning? The number line itself went deeper into Chance’s being; Snow had only grabbed the very top of the ghostly chain. Chance could feel it now, connected to some invisible point in his chest like fishing string. Or a dog tied to a tree by his leash.

    “Live, dammit! Live!” Snow cried. Reaching out with her other hand, the woman grabbed the chain with both hands and pulled hard.

    More orange numbers began sliding out, making a terrible rackety noise like the one you might here from a wooden roller coaster going up a large hill. Snow ripped length upon length of number line out, most of it flying up into the air quickly and then falling to the ground slowly like a deflated balloon.

    Chance could feel the line drawing shorter, becoming more and taut with each pull now. Simultaneously he could feel the weight being lifted off his body. He could barely move his arms now, but it was getting progressively easier. Baring his teeth, the young boy moved his arms up slowly, fighting through waves of pain.

    “Stop...” he grunted.

    “Almost there!” Snow cried out.

    His arm crept closer and closer to the line being pulled out of him. If he could just grab it he might be able to put it all back in...

    “Got it!” Snow let out triumphantly.

    Chance felt the last of the line come out. It was completely stretched out now, one last pull could break that connection whatever point was in his chest.

    “No!” Chance roared, bringing his arms up to grab the line.

    “Yes!” Snow hissed, pulling hard at the final length.

    A sound like a metal chain breaking.

    The dog’s leash finally broken.

    Chance’s arms came together and found only air between them as he watched in horror as the last of his numbers, whatever they were, floated slowly to the ground. His eyes widened in shock. He felt around at his chest, now completely relieved of weight.

    “What did you do to me?” he cried out desperately.

    Snow, now back in her original outfit, rolled off of the boy and began floating in mid-air. She winked and said,

    “That was fun, Chancey! We need to do this again real soon!”

    With that, the strange woman flew over and landed on the large mess of numbers, about as big as a full grown Mamoswine and straddled it like a horse. Now in a cowboy outfit, Snow spurred the numbers and shouted out in a country accent,

    “Get along little doggy!”

    The numbers writhed around wildly before lifting off into the air and flying away with Snow on top, whinnying and making galloping noises as it did.

    Chance lept up and cried out,

    “Wait! You can’t just leave!”

    Leave she did though, and before long she was out of sight, though not out of mind for Chance. Chance threw is arms up in the air,

    “What the hell just happened?!”

    Only the Moon responded, greeting him with a silent, laughing gaze. Chance didn’t know who the Man in the Moon was, but he could venture he was probably a douche.

    After a few minutes of regaining his composure, and several more pinches, Chance began wandering through the trees desperately, feeling an intense headache coming on. If he didn’t get to somewhere sane soon he might pass out. Then, suddenly, he fell out of the forest and into another clearing. This one had a large tan house in it though. A little chimney on top was displacing some smoke and a few late night pokemon scampered around, disturbed at this intruder’s entrance to their territory. Chance picked himself up and dusted himself off before wandering around to the front of the house, his head now throbbing with pain. One room had the lights on and he thought he could hear the T.V. going. As he got closer he saw the doorknob turn and the door creaked slowly open. Bright yellow eyes peaked from the opening.


    The door flung open as Aide came dashing out.

    “Chance! You’re late! What happened?”

    Chance gave the girl a blank stare before starting,

    “I...” he said, unsure of what to say, “I got lost.”

    Aide gave a playful shove.

    “I told you not to do that, silly!”

    The young girl smiled and shifted her weight, causing her shirt, an oversized white *** with dried paint covering the front, to flutter slightly. A cool breeze ran throughout, lifting the shirt up to reveal a pair of short bicycle shorts, not unlike the one’s Snow had been wearing earlier. Aide eyed Chance up and down.

    “Are you...” she said in bewilderment, “Still wearing your school clothes?”

    Chance didn’t know what to say. He never took off his school clothes when he got home. He just wore them, sometimes through the weekend. He tugged at his plain white shirt uncomfortably.

    “I’m sorry, I didn’t think it mattered...”

    Aide took his hand quickly and gave a big grin.

    “Pssh! It doesn’t! I think it’s kind of cute!”

    Chance smiled back at her with a blushing face.

    “C’mon! Let’s go inside already! It’s dark out here!” Aide said, leading Chance into the house, Chance turned his head to watch the silent forest as he was pulled in.

    That night passed by like a blur to him. He laughed with Aide, watched her movies, played a few games with her, even had a really nice conversation. But his mind was somewhere different, even Aide’s surprisingly beautiful paintings couldn’t get his mind on track. The subject of his focus was Snow.

    It was weird in a way.

    Chance didn’t hate the woman, in fact he wished he could see her again.

    He couldn’t deny it, she was beautiful.

    Pure white hair.

    Nothing dirtying up her clothes or her skin.

    As if even the earth recoiled at her presence.


    Aaaand there goes about half my readers. I hope this didn't get too out there for you all.
  13. Maree

    Maree Fireball In The Dark

    You just had to fit the sexual innuendo in there somewhere, didn't you? xp

    Anyway, one to the subject of Snow. ...she crazy. End of discussion.

    Overall a great chapter! My favorite line is the one about the man in the moon being a douche. So funny! XD

    And only one typo! ^-^ (you put "is" instead of "his" at the part where Chance is being de-number-afide by Snow)

    So yeah, awesome chapter! can't wait for the next one & to see where Snow fits into all of this craziness you've made up :)

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