(Anime?, Humor, PG, light cursing) Night of the Horriffic Monster-Like Thingy Guy

[A Concerned Solomon]

Chapter 1: An Unlikely Hero


Somewhere out there, Ash Ketchum was in a heated Pokemon match.

Lucky bastard.

It wasn't going so well for Jack. His Kanto quest had left him with seven badges, one short of the amount required to enter the Pokemon League. Obviously, this was the most important thing in the world, for the winners may or may not be considered Pokemon Masters. In fact, it is possible that everybody or nobody at all is a Pokemon Master. Perhaps both at the same time. Nobody is certain just what a Pokemon Master is or how you become one, but Jack was convinced it involved collecting eight badges.

Poor bastard. However, being a poor bastard in itself may make someone a Pokemon Master. But what do Pokemon Masters do? It's entirely conceivable that they walk around trying to become Pokemon Masters.

Anyway, back to the story.

Jack was missing one badge: the Cascadebadge. The overly popular leader of the Gym that gave those away was long gone. Good riddance to her. Of course, her very presence makes Ash Ketchum a poor bastard, and thus quite possibly a Pokemon Master.

This story is not about Ash Ketchum. If you thought it was, you are a stupid bastard. While those may also be Pokemon Masters, I doubt it very much. This story is about Jack, your average original trainer. He obviously is thus comely to great extremes, knows everything Pokemon inside out (Maybe he even knows what a Pokemon Master is! If so, he'd better tell me...), and has a rival who suspiciously resembles a pile of Tauros manure. But one thing was different about this one, something very important.

He was from Viridian City!

This makes a massive difference, for reasons that are also unknown, even to Jack himself. (Professor Oak may know, but he was, uh, researching the anatomy of Delia Ketchum when we came to press. That's how I got this nasty mark on my head. Now I'm scarred for life in more ways than one. I feel bad for Tracey. Unloved bastard.) For you see, most original trainers are from Pallet Town. Jack was from Viridian City. Why was this important? Becuase it helped me dodge writing any of the actual story up to this point.

The author had finally run out of stalling tactics, so Jack woke up and marched into town. "Cerulean City, here I come! I'm gonna get me a badge, a bike, a Zapdos, and a fishing rod! Then I'm getting out of this dump you call a fanfic!" What Jack failed to notice was that it was three o'clock in the morning.

"Shut up! Some people are trying to sleep!" came the emphatic reply. Jack quickly shut up and headed to town, unaware that the man in the window was not trying to sleep at all.

Remember the overly popular gym leader I mentioned before? The one whose name I dare not speak but is a synonym for Foggy? Good. Remember the lucky bastard I also mentioned before? Also good. If not, I suggest leaving the Pokemon fanfic section immediately. Now, it is believed by some that these two MUST be madly in love. Many of these people may be reading this dump I call a fanfic. (Hi Mom!) Some of these people are also in the Pokemon world itself. Living on first floor apartments in Cerulean City. And absolutely whacked out of their minds.

It takes a poor bastard to wipe this kind of scum out. Which is convenient, because the star of this dump I call a fanfic happens to be one. Lucky us. The world will need his help. Badly. Soon.

[A Concerned Solomon]

After shutting up the disturbance outside, Fisherman Ralph turned towards the brilliant device he had created from assorted trash found in the Cerulean Garbage Dump and Ozzy Ozbourne's hair. The ultimate weapon in the arsenal of Pokeshipping! "And now, I will forever change the plot, making the 'friendship' into romantic involvement! Take that, you non-Bikeshippy scum!"

"What is it?" Cooltrainer Beth was always interested in Ralph's absurd schemes, but she was a realist. "You do realize that it's hopeless, right? She's leaving the show!"

"Nonsense, you fool!" admonished Ralph. "It hasn't happened yet!"

"It did in Japan-" protested Beth.

"But not here!"

"Nonetheless, we cannot change what happened in Japan!"

"Are you saying that men are not masters of their own fate? That we have no say in the future? That we can't go for hamburgers because it didn't happen in Japan?" argued Ralph.

Beth tried to point out the obvious flaw in Ralph's reasoning. "Listen, Ralph. We CAN go for hamburgers-"

"Did that happen in Japan?"

"No, but-"

"How about in Mexico?"

"No. Just hear me out, okay? We're FANFICTION characters. We aren't bound by the continuing plot or anything of the sort," reasoned Beth

"So we can do whatever we want?"

"Only if the author wants us to do it."

"That's not fair! Read me my rights!"

"True, but wanting to do something is doing something, and since the author controls what we do, he controls what we want."

"But what if I don't want to want what he wants me to want?"

"I want to punch you, Ralph."

Ralph couldn't take anymore of this pointless debating. "Proving the obvious isn't what I do."

"No, Ralph, you're trying to prove the obviously wrong!"

"What? Curse you and your debaters traps! Let us just use the machine!" Ralph pushed a button on the remote control he was holding. "This machine will lower the temperature all across the planet to a uniform 15 degrees Farenheight! Since the bitchy tomboy dresses eternally for a heat wave, she will get COLD! And her love, being a nice guy, will give her his coat!"

Beth tried to follow the plan. "Assuming this works, wouldn't they be able to head indoors? And wouldn't you annoy everyone else on the planet?"

"Are the Japanese on this planet, Beth? Of course they are! And they'll get cold, too!"

Beth persisted. "But someone might try to stop us! Other people like warm weather, too!"

"To heck with them! Ash and Misty Romance forever!" cried Ralph.

"But wouldn't the machine need a ridiculous amount of electricity to freeze the entire face of the planet? I mean, the power plant's right here, but still, everyone else uses electricity. And you can't stop them with 'to heck with them,' either!"

"We'll see about that!"

"After this, can we go for burgers, Ralph? I'm hungry."

"Did that happen in Japan?"

***

Jack walked into the Cerulean City Pokemon Center. He dropped off his Pokemon at the front desk and headed for a "The Simpsons" arcade game near the back. Unfortunately, he didn't have a quarter. So Jack pulled out his Itemfinder and walked outside, continually searching for an item.

***

"Ralph, turn it off! You're gonna blow out the power grid!"

"Nonsense, Beth!"

"Why do I hang out with you, anyway?"

"I don't know..."

***

Jack kept pressing the button on the Itemfinder, searching desperately for a quarter. His sights were set on bringing down the high score of SMH (whoever that was) and taking his place as the greatest "The Simpsons" player in the history of Cerulean City's Pokemon Center. He held various records back in his hometown Viridian City and, more impressively, on tourist trap Cinnabar Island, where he was the all-time high score champion. He ducked into a nearby Disgusting Bob's Burgers 'N' Stuff (part of a nationwide fast-food chain which had survived largely based on accounting fraud on the part of Disgusting Bob, whose real name is unknown to this date.) Since nobody ever bought a burger from a Disgusting Bob's, the stores were open late, inviting various accountants inside and getting their help in fooling investors. However, there were no investors, since everybody knew better than to give Disgusting Bob (real name unknown) any money.

Jack's presence in the restaurant at 3:30 in the morning might have come as a shock to the cashier had there been one. Of course, Disgusting Bob found such a position to be a total waste of money, especially since no Disgusting Bob's ever had any money to take care of anyway. The same could be said of jobs like cook and janitor, since nobody would ever want to purchase a Disgusting Bob's Burger and thus there was no need to clean up the refuse from the wrappers or to make such burgers anyway. And still, Disgusting Bob's never lived up to the adjective half of its name, which still didn't help business much, because there was nothing there to buy, and nobody would want to buy it anyway if there was.

The area was clear of customers on this night, but the tables and seats were there and were immaculate, as was the source of light: a group of 100 fifty-watt bulbs placed in a mock chandelier which hung from the ceiling of the deserted restaurant. Jack at last heard a beep from the Itemfinder he was sweeping the place with. "All right!" he exclaimed to nobody in particular, "Itemfinder is indicating that there is an item near where I am standing! Now to find it." Jack bent down to the floor in search of (he hoped) a quarter with which to play "The Simpsons." He looked down n the floor, circled each table until he found.

"A Nugget? How useless is that! Just a piece of gold with no purpose whatsoever! What in the world can I do with this? I certainly can't use it to play "The Simpsons", that's for sure! I'll go find some schmuck to pawn it off on and get a quarter!"

As if cued by Jack's moronic decision, every electrical device in Cerulean City shut off immediately.

[A Concerned Solomon]

With the city in total darkness, any of a number of terrors could manifest itself. Jack had heard horror stories about "Misty's Song" songfics (Oh no! I said the name! You saw nothing.) and horribly clichéd encounters with the incredibly powerful Mewtwo.



Since the cave outside the city had collapsed, The Most Powerful Pokémon of Them All (whew, that was a long title for him!) had found a job working for the Cerulean City tourism board. The mayor figured that a well-known figure like Mewtwo could drive tourism down at least 26% and create an issue on which he could run for reelection. Surprising everyone, tourism shot up by 400% in the month Mewtwo had been on the job. Of course, there was a problem with mindless zombies marching through the town, chanting, "I will obey Mewtwo," so the mayor now had his issue anyway. From that point on, he began chanting, "I am the slave of Sabrina. Ph33r teh l337nessxorz!" (That he could pronounce words in l337 was so amazing that his approval rating exploded to 79%.) Jack did not concern himself with all of this. He just wanted to get to the Pokemon Center and get some rest.



"Jolteon , go! Use your Flash to light up the town!" But the lightning Pokémon did not appear. He reached next for Charizard's Pokéball, only to discover that he didn't have it. "Someone's stolen my Pokémon! It must be the nefarious work of Team Rocket! I'm going to do the unthinkable and sic Nurse Joy on them!" He then realized that he had no clue how to reach the Pokémon Center.



Jack collapsed in the street and began to cry.



***



"I told you this would happen, Ralph! Now we can't see anything!" Beth had a far worse reason to be worried. The "The Simpsons" machine at the Pokémon Center two blocks from Ralph's apartment could not work without power. Neither would her hair dryer.



“Calm down, Beth. The electricians will fix this mess. Now come on! Let’s get some burgers.” The heavyset Twerpshipping-obsessed fisherman felt very confident that the electrician would come, along with his oddly nicknamed Pokémon, Porycian and Raichian, and fix the problem immediately.



(Unbeknownst to Ralph but beknownst to us, Mr. Fix couldn’t be bothered. He was currently writing a Sonic the Hedgehog fanfic about the relationship between Tails and Knuckles, also featuring an original Hedgehog and a moronic badnik out to bring about Sonamyshipping. Though the similarity to Night of the Horrific Monster-Like Thingy Guy is uncanny, it is purely coincidental. Trust me on this one.)



As Beth and Ralph walked through the street together (It’s a Fishcoolshipping sign! Or maybe it’s not. Maybe they just do this to further the plot.), they passed an amazingly good-looking man who was in the midst of a crying fit. He carried on his back a black backpack, wore a Pokégear on his wrist, and had even been careful enough to wear neutral gang colors.



Yet he was crying like an idiot.



“What’s wrong with you?” asked Ralph.



“My Pokémon were stolen! I have to get them back! Who knows what Team Rocket would do with them?” answered Jack frantically.



“Well, they’d probably make them extremely strong and have them do nothing but battle,” offered Beth. “But that doesn’t explain the hat.”



“I’m an Expos fan,” answered Jack simply.



“Sure you are! And Pokéshipping is a scam!” laughed Ralph. “As if Ash wasn’t destined to fall in love with his carrot-haired companion! Who would think of something so ludicrous?



“You would,” Beth shot back. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t have created a machine to cause global winter in the hopes of causing the pair to find romance with each other. By the way, said machine is the reason I can’t play my favorite arcade game now, Ralph.”



“What game is that?” asked Jack. “Mine’s ‘The Simpsons’.”



“Mine too! But we can’t play it because the power went out after Ralph used up all the electricity in the city to lower the temperatures around the world!”



“I was wondering why it got so chilly out all of the sudden,” thought Jack aloud.



“Yeah, that’s it.”



“No way!” protested Ralph. “The spirit of Eldershipping flew over here and created a more romantic atmosphere for the wonderful couple. I wonder what excuse they’ll use this time?”



“You’re full of it. Where’s the Pokémon center? It’s the last place I was before I lost my Pokémon. I left my Pokémon at the desk, walked out, and – holy cow! That’s where they are! I’m heading back immediately! I got very nervous there!” Jack ran off.



“That was pretty odd, Beth.”



“Yeah, let’s get those burgers.”



***



Jack realized a few moments too late that his sense of direction and night vision weren’t quite as good as he first thought. The pain in his head was terrible. Jack saw a huge building with a Seel on top of it, and then nothing but blackness…

[A Concerned Solomon]

The first thing Jack noticed upon waking up from his concussion-induced nap was the pain he had inflicted upon himself by charging with his head down in a big city at night. He silently reminded himself that his mother had been right all the time. Charging with one’s head down anywhere is also stupid idea, but Jack’s mother never mentioned such.



The second thing he noticed was the heat. It had to be at least 95 degrees out, he figured. It’d be a great day to break out Charizard, if the Gym wasn’t known for water types, he noted. He chuckled to himself. Jack had never seen the inside of the Cerulean City Gym, but he’d heard plenty. Various sources told him there was even a manicurist on the premises. But without his Pokémon, there was no way he could win the badge. And what would his life be without that badge, anyway? Certainly not one worth living, because everyone was a Pokémon trainer; to not have a badge was to be a poor, pathetic excuse for a human being. At least, that’s what his mother told him.



So, for the time being, Jack was not going to enter the gym. He had no idea what a big mistake he was making. Many readers enjoy detailed descriptions of people, and there were a lot of people in there. There were nough to fill a stadium, in fact. This would serve no real purpose, as it would not move the plot along at all, but people do like descriptions.



On his way to the bike shop, Jack passed a girl who stood 6’ 3” and weighed 120.73 pounds. She had shoulder length black hair and green eyes. Not green like the ocean, mind you. They were more of an emerald green, and they sat about 3 inches apart from each other. “Enough already!” she screamed at the author in annoyed soprano and Dolby stereo.



“Thank you,” she sighed in relief. “Anyway, my Slowbro and I make a great team!”



“I’m sure, but you see, I have to-“



“WATCH MY SLOWBRO!” Jack stood still, paralyzed with fear. What was that thing going to do to him? “Slowbro, use your Hydro Pump!”



Slowbro didn’t respond.



“Alright! Now, try your Confusion!” Jack tried to edge away, but was stopped cold by the demented Slowbro trainer. Slowbro, on the other hand, loafed.



Jack envied the almost brain-dead Pokémon, which was able to ignore this horrid display of Pokémon training. The girl continued, as delusional as ever. “He’s not watching! Give him a Fire Blast!”



Slowbro took a little nap.



“Can I go now?” asked Jack.



“No! Not until I, Lenore Kaptcha, show you how valuable this Water/Psychic type is! No Pokémon can bring down my Slowbro…hold on, I just got an IM on my Pokégear…



Jack looked at the screen name of Lenore’s IM buddy. “TrovitasDancingPedophile? I don’t think you should be talking to that type of person…”



“Who are you, my mother?” retorted Lenore. “Besides, he says he’s in love with me! Isn’t that grand? And take a look at this picture of him…oh, I want to marry this man!” Lenore pressed a few buttons and out came a publicity photo of Trovita Island’s middle-aged Gym Leader. Lenore stared at Rudy’s likeness, enamored. Jack took this opportunity to sneak away. Slowbro slept on.



As Jack carefully dodged around buildings to stay away from Lenore, another, less psychotic young lady was riding a Rapidash around Cerulean Cape. “There are many fast Pokémon, but nothing comes close to the feeling of riding a Rapidash! The wind whipping by, the glowing embers on its tail, the…are you even listening, Ralph?”



“Beth, fishing is a contemplative sport,” replied Ralph. “The true fisherman can never afford to take his eyes off the pond for one moment, for who knows when a Gyarados or Dragonair may bite?” Turning the page of the novel he was reading, Long, Saccharine AAML Fluff by Random Author Dude, he noticed a quarter out of the corner of his eye. “Ooh, shiny!”



As Ralph ran off, his Super Rod began to move towards the water. “Ralph! You’ve got one!” yelled Beth. Seeing that he gave no response, she decided to save the rod from being dragged out to sea. All of her might was put into the effort, but she couldn’t reel in the catch. Whatever it is, it’s heavy! Again she turned the crank, to little avail. Suddenly she was hit with an idea. Hopping into the saddle of her flaming horse, she galloped away from the water, reeling all the while. Now it was clear she was making progress, but she was fast running out of room. With one final yank, she found herself face to face with a rare Lanturn.



Beth had seen precious few of the Water/Electric hybrid, but she knew it was fast and that she could ride it. Which, to Beth, was the most important trait of a Pokémon. Nevertheless, she did realize that she was looking at an uphill struggle to weaken the monster significantly to catch it.

Her thoughts were cut off as the beached whale-creature began fighting its way back to the water. Not willing to pass up this golden chance, she ordered her Rapidash to let loose with a Fire Spin attack. The helpless sea Pokémon became trapped in a whirling inferno whose walls it could not penetrate without being singed. It quickly countered this move with a Rain Dance attack, which both put out the flames and sent all of Cerulean City scouring for their umbrellas. Rapidash was visibly hurting from all of the water, but there was no way she would be giving up on her master. Of course, Rapidash wasn’t exactly the Pokémon answer to Gadd, Silph, or Andonuts, so it really had no clue how to deal with the rain.



Slowbro ignored orders.

[A Concerned Solomon]

Jack looked at the building with the giant Pokéball on top of it. He figured it was about two football fields away from where he stood. No hurry, he thought. After all, it was a beautiful July morning, and the sun was shining brilliantly. Also, there was no sign of Lenore, her Slowbro, or Billy anywhere.



What? You don't know who Billy is? That's because you didn't read my best friend's kawaii fanfic "The Generic Pokémon Journey of Randy Guy!" You call yourself a fan! Ha! You have a life, fool! All true fans read every fanfic ever to exist. Don't go searching FF.net for it, either, because he only has it on his own website, which was deleted last year. But you still should have been hunting day and night for it, sacrificing sleep to read all 120 50,000 plus-word chapters the moment he posted them. Because you're supposed to be a real Pokémon fan, and you should know ALL of the signs that Lily is in love with the guy from Earthbound.



Well, now I've finished my rant, you ungrateful fool. I even threw in the word kawaii! Suffice it to say, all you so-called fans, the Billy is a guy whose name is Billy. He wasn't there, but in a moment's time, a tempest was, complete with swirling winds and speedy downpour.



Jack had checked the weather forecast on the way out, but there was no mention of rain. In fact, the weatherman said it would be a sunny day. Jack knew he remembered correctly, because right after this notice came a shot of the anchorwoman trying to come on to the sportscaster. Of course, his head still hurt. But he deserved it for being a moron.



He could certainly feel the cold rain hitting his body. Luckily, his beloved Montreal Expos cap blocked any of it from hitting him in the face.



How Jack actually became an Expos fan is a mystery. His entire extended family either rooted for the Los Angeles Dodgers or didn’t follow baseball. Of course, how anyone becomes an Expos fan is a mystery. But I digress.



As Jack grabbed his jacket from around his waist and started putting it on, the rain stopped and the sunlight grew extremely bright, so much so that his eyes were stunned by the intensity to the light. He also could have sworn he heard the battle cry of a pained Rapidash.



Jack had, in fact, heard the battle cry of a pained Rapidash fighting a beached Lanturn with its trainer riding atop it. But Jack isn’t very good at this kind of thing. He’s one of those phony fans who didn’t read “The Generic Pokémon Journey of Randy Guy.” Quite frankly, he didn’t miss much.



Even so, the rain quickly began anew. Jack began to get terribly furious at that useless weatherman. He saw no problem with the anchorwoman, despite the fact that she was a good 40 years younger than the poor sportscaster.



As Jack cursed his rotten luck (which was far from over), Beth continued to duel the Lanturn that had the rotten luck of biting Jack’s fishing rod. Keeping with the recent trend, Beth was unlucky enough to have only her flame-throwing Rapidash with which to battle the electric whale. To the current point, the battle had become a war of Sunny Day and Rain Dance attacks, which were the main reason for poor Jack’s misery.



Don’t worry. Jack’s life will get worse, I promise. It just won’t happen quite yet.



As everyone who has ever abused an attack in Pokémon knows, eventually the PP of a move will run out. In this particular case, Lanturn’s eighth Rain Dance was the last. Alas, Lanturn should stick to the Tango, but that would also be hard given his lack of legs. Perhaps synchronized swimming would work, but there was already a monopoly on that in town.



Either way, it was clearly do-or-die time for Lanturn. He now started to break out the heavy artillery, starting Rapidash off with a Hydro Pump attack, which missed by mere inches. Rapidash quickly countered by using Sunny Day (much to Jack’s chagrin) and thus not only weakening Lanturn’s water-based attacks but also rendering his electrical power completely useless.



Lanturn’s surprising response was a nasty Flash attack, which temporarily blinded the fire horse. Beth, too, was blinded by the attack, but she knew what Lanturn was going to try to do. So as she recovered, she threw out a Lure Ball. An angry Lanturn was sucked into the ball, which by some magic had a special affinity for catching Pokémon attached to a fishing line.



Don’t ask me how this works. Just dismiss it like you do the idea that these monsters will not rise up against their masters and beat the crap out of them, then come to the houses of fan fiction authors like myself, with pitchforks and torches in hand. It’s just not going to happen. At least, I hope not, but I’m barring the windows just in case.



The ball shook once…and out popped Lanturn. “Lanturn!” he shouted in a mad rage.



“Rapidash dash rapid,” came the response.



“Turn! Lanturn turn!”



“Rapidash!”



“Lanturn, lan turn lanturn. Lanturn turn?”



“Dash rapi! Rapidash Rapidash!”



As this philosophical debate over whether Bounty is really stronger and more absorbent than the leading brand raged on, Beth snatched up a tree branch and set it ablaze off Rapidash’s tail.



“Dash!”



“Turn!”



“Rapid Rapidash.”



Beth realized that the old credo even rang true in Pokémon training. If you want something done right, do it yourself. Disobeying at least 234 Pokémon League by-laws, she beat Lanturn senseless with her impromptu torch, and then spiked a Fast Ball on the defenseless Pokémon’s head.



There was no shaking. Lanturn was in too much shock to respond. The quilted, quicker picker-upper was inferior to the competition? What was the world coming to?

[A Concerned Solomon]

Soaked, scorched, and blinded, the Pokémon trainer known as Jack Hammer trudged into Cerulean City Pokémon Center. Now things were about to go right! Take back his Pokémon, deposit Houndoom, retrieve Raichu, pop into that gym with two electric-types, and give the leader a pounding not soon to be forgotten.



Poor, ignorant Jack. Didn’t he know that this wasn’t a normal original-trainer fic? These things don’t work out quite so well as in the anime. Taking for example the PC meant for public use. Waiting in front of our ignorant hero were three people looking for strategy guides to the new “Hey Arnold Moral Combat” fighting game, a freaky GameFAQs regular with a strange tendency to start fanfic topics, and Dick Chaney. (I found out by hacking into government files. The next undisclosed secure location is-what’s that red light thingy? Oh, I was just writing some humorous fanfic. I did not find out that the Vice President was hiding in a video game. Yep, those are my memories.)



Actually sitting at the computer itself was the world famous repairman Mr. Fix, who claimed to be in the process of writing a Sonic the Hedgehog story. Nevertheless, I seriously doubt that nude pictures of Water Pokémon Master Lorelei Prima have anything to do with Sonic, even in a fanfic. With this option almost completely shot, Jack headed for the counter to talk to Nurse Joy. Mysteriously, there was no line at the service counter.



“Hello, ma’am. I’m Jack Hammer. I left my Pokémon here recently? A Charizard, a Houndoom, a Jolteon, a Wigglytuff, a Starmie, and a Scyther. If you’ve healed them, could I have them back please?” The moment he spoke those words, he regretted it.



“What do I look like, a slave laborer? Work, work, work, that’s all I’m good for around here! And what do they pay me?” The definitely masculine voice from the next room over sounded quite annoyed. He was almost finished reading Absurd Ariados-Man #135, in which Ariados-Man defeats arch-nemesis Sparky Wattson. Indeed, this led to many spin-offs, including the recent film version, The Poison Sting of Ariados-Man and all the various merchandise that came from it. Somebody was definitely making a killing. Corporate Kanto works that way.



“You know, I’m sorry about your shattered self-image. We all care deeply about you! Can I have my Pokémon back now?”



“No,” came the emphatic reply. “I shouldn’t be bothered with other people’s messes.”



“You aren’t Nurse Joy, are you?”



Filled with indignation, Nurse Joe hurled six Pokéballs are Jack. Perhaps caused by fate, perhaps due to intervention by the great Suicune, or perhaps through dumb luck, Jack’s own Pokémon appeared from within the Pokéballs. As Wigglytuff sang out its name and Charizard scorched the ceiling for no apparent reason, a Blissey wearing an I survived Ariados-Man: The Movie: The Ride T-Shirt let loose on Starmie with a Shadow Ball attack. Sadly, poor Blissey was hit by shards from the light bulbs Jolteon was busy shattering in an effort to charge herself up. Jack quickly called Scyther back before it could do anything funny or worth mentioning, but Houndoom was a different story. He dove back into his own Pokéball of his own volition.



As the crowd took shelter in the basement, Wigglytuff began her important mission. Quickly closing all the windows with pictures of Lorelei in suggestive poses (said pictures are considered by some the true reason she was kicked out of the Elite Four, rather than that bogus scandal about her stealing Agatha’s chocolates), Wigglytuff logged on to the official N’Sync website. Immediately, she hammered a few keys and found the lyrics to “Tearin’ Up My Heart”



Wigglytuff is trying to learn Perish Song! But, Wigglytuff already has four moves! Delete an older move to make room for Perish Song?



Jack quickly answered in the negative.



Tough luck, kid! Wigglytuff learned Perish Song anyway!



What the morons sending these telepathic messages to Jack did not know was that Wigglytuff already carried far over four moves and still does. The only reason for using the Internet to learn an attack was saving money on the TM. After all, Jack can’t even afford a Disgusting Bob’s Burger.



Thoroughly content, Wigglytuff walked back to her Moon Ball and retreated into it in a flash of light. Joe’s Blissey ran off in terror. Joe finished his comic and sat down in front of the computer. Immediately his eyes glazed over, his body stiffened, and a message appeared on the screen. “Welcome to the Microsoft Hearts Network. What is your name?” It was obvious Joe would be in this rigor mortis of gaming for quite some time. Jack considered himself something of a hearts player himself, but this was not the time. He had a Raichu to withdraw and a gym badge to win.



“Jolteon jolt!”



“Sorry girl. We hearts players have a certain honor code. I cannot kick him off the computer for personal gain.”



“Char!”



“No. You guys can’t either. Honor code. If I kick him off, I shall never again be able to call myself a hearts player. I could even be punished by death! Now, if he were playing solitaire, things would be different. I could kick him off only if he was not in the midst of a tournament.”



There was only one possible solution.



Jack headed off to the source of all Pokémon data: Bill’s cottage on the Cerulean Cape. This would be a cinch! Certainly a walk in the park ever since the loitering trainers on Nugget Bridge had been kicked off and sent off to Jhoto to bother beginning trainers leaving from Goldenrod City. It seemed like this actually was the nefarious work of Team Rocket, but given the recent decline of the organization without its leader, many were doubtful. The prevailing theory was that Team Aqua, Team Magma, or Jonnie Cochran was actually operating the irritating Pokémon contest from behind closed doors.



The weather was back to normal. Jack was shocked by the sheer normality of the situation. Normally, nothing was normal for him. It had reached the point where the strange was normal, and vice versa. Despite how odd it was, he definitely enjoyed normal weather.



“You may have made my Slowbro look silly, but my Electrode and I make a great team!”



Up until he saw Lenore, that is.

[Blackjack Palazzo]

BWAHAHAHA!!! BWAHAHAHAAAAAA!!!! That's great!

although what you should do is just post a chapter at a time. Get more reviews that way!

[Evil Figment]

Yeah, posting chapters one at a time is the best way to get more replies!

That and replying to your readers, and hoping they reply to your replies, and so on and so forth. Blackjack's pretty good at it :)

Loved this fic btw. The Nsync bit is just too fun.

[Blackjack Palazzo]

Originally posted by Damian Silverblade
That and replying to your readers, and hoping they reply to your replies, and so on and so forth. Blackjack's pretty good at it :)


See? I'm doing it right now! Sorta.

My problem is that I don't have drop-in reviewers, I have like, four people who read my fics regularly, and that's it. It reminds me of the definition of 'cult classic'

"A movie that's been seen 50 times by as many people"

[A Concerned Solomon]

Well, thanks. I just saw that this place doesn't have ANY humor fics, so I put up everything I have so far.

[Blackjack Palazzo]

I posted a humor fic, but it got deleted...I think it's because it was in script format...

[Evil Figment]

Errr, actually that was an accident of sort.

See, Kurai had moved it to non-poke, then I had moved it back. Then Kurai thought she should delete the "topic moved" note in non-poke fiction.

So she clicked on that link, which brough her to your topic (and not to the "moved" note). Then she deleted that, thinking it was the note. Except, of course, that it was your main topic.

So yeah, it was all an accident ^^;;

[Blackjack Palazzo]

So I can repost? YAY!! Um...since I just posted a ton of stuff, I'm gonna wait a few days

[A Concerned Solomon]

The massive ball Pokémon let off a couple of sparks in an attempt to intimidate the opposing trainer. Jack wasn’t scared by Electrode, but rather by its trainer. Lenore wouldn’t leave him alone at all! Now, you AngryYoungTrainerShippers may think he was enjoying this madness. In the interest of preserving your illusions I won’t tell you just how annoyed he was. I will mention that he had a death wish against her, however. Take this as you will.

Jack threw out a Pokéball. In a burst of light, Houndoom appeared. He shot off a small, controlled burst of flame just to acknowledge his own pitiful existence, and then adopted a fighting pose. “Ready to go?”

Lenore nodded her head, that smug look never leaving her face. “Okay, Electrode! Houndoom’s a fire type, so give it a Rollout!” Electrode began rolling in place, picking up velocity as it revved itself up. Jack looked on in surprise. Maybe she isn’t terrible at this after all. Electrode spent so much time charging up, however, that Houndoom was able to dig underneath the ground and take cover from the incoming attack.

Electrode finally released, shooting right at the spot where Houndoom had stood mere seconds earlier. Noticing that its opponent had dug a hole, it quickly turned around, perfectly anticipating the dark type’s next move. As Houndoom emerged from beneath the asphalt street, he yelped in surprise at Electrode’s well-aimed attack. Realizing that this was about to hurt, he made a valiant yet fruitless attempt at using Defense Curl.

Suddenly and without warning, Electrode stopped cold and began to glow red. Jack immediately recognized what was about to happen and gave the order to hide in the tunnel his monster had just built. Electrode let loose with an Explosion attack, which somehow left both trainers unharmed.

“I thought I told you NOT to do that in the middle of battle! You stupid spherical shmuck! Look at this! You had that thing all but destroyed, and then blew it!” Lenore ran up to the blackened Electrode and began to tear into it with punches, kicks, and obscenities. Houndoom emerged, raised an eyebrow, and followed Jack to Nugget Bridge. Charizard, Jolteon, and Starmie (who, if you were paying attention, were never called back in the last chapter; did you think I’d leave a PLOTHOLE?) merely pointed and laughed at Lenore.

“Jolteon?”

Sorry, girl. I don’t know how the hell a Starmie can point and laugh either. I’m guessing that if it extends one of its appendages and makes that “ha” sound repeatedly, it could work. Let’s just assume that’s what it did. If you can think of something better, I’m deeply impressed. Like the crater Electrode’s Explosion left in the middle of the road.

“Yeah, look at the big crater you left, you worthless two-colored ball of stupidity!”

“Listen, Lenore,” began Electrode, “I don’t really have much control over that. You see, given the high pressure the ions of my body are under, it is only natural that, on occasion, they will cause an uncontainable blast of power to knock me temporarily unconscious. It’s the laws of physics, and while I can cause myself to explode at will, I cannot stop the chain reaction once it begins.”

“Don’t let it happen again. AND START FIXING THE ROAD!”

“I don’t have opposable thumbs. Heck, I don’t even have hands! Or arms! Or legs for that matter. Besides, where would I find enough gravel?”

“…never mind. I’m going to get you and Slowbro patched up.” With that, the young trainer rolled her Electrode along the road to the Pokémon center.

Poor kid. But one thing’s for sure: I certainly don’t feel like fixing the crater. Jack had no plans to do so, either. And so, to this day, Lenore’s Crater remains a national landmark of Kanto. People and their Pokémon come from all around to see a big hole. Does anybody else see a problem here?

I thought not. All you see is a big hole. Heck, not even that! You see words on a computer screen! The exact words I’m typing! Is that cool or what? Maybe this works two ways! Okay, anybody here see the Weird Al movie UHF? I’ll tell you, that Spatula City thing is priceless!



This doesn’t seem to be working all that well. On with our action-packed tale of action and adventure! Or is it adventure-packed? Or is it neither? I wonder if it’s packed with a Darkwing Duck doll…

“Houndoom, return! Charizard, Starmie, Jolteon, quit the caveman act and get moving!” Houndoom dematerialized and returned to his Pokéball. The other three stifled their laughter and chased after their trainer.

“Wait until we’re out of listening range. I’ve got something to tell you guys.” Charizard and Jolteon gulped. Starmie generally became nervous. As the four walked across the bridge, Jack measured the distance they had traveled until he figured there was no way anybody else could hear him. Then, he began his inspirational yet secret message.

“Was that girl pathetic or what?”

Charizard, Jolteon, Starmie, and Jack all pointed and laughed like idiots. Houndoom sat in his Pokéball, basically being boring. Wigglytuff sent her audition tape to “Kantonian Idol.” Scyther relieved his sore muscles with Alieve™. The author collected money for product placement. And generally speaking, all was right with the world.

[Blackjack Palazzo]

Bweeheehee...*g*

[Evil Figment]

Hilarious new part, TTT :-D

Keep it up! We need more Night of the Horrific Monster-Like Thingy Guy"!

[A Concerned Solomon]

Now, if I only knew who picked choice number three...

I'm probably going to take endless flack for not putting Misty in this fic. But the idea of this fool having to handle himself around celebrities works just a bit better than having the popular character around.

Besides, she'd probably side with Ralph.

[A Concerned Solomon]

“…And after we finish with this, your Pokémon will look absolutely wonderful!” spoke the Pokémon hairstylist.

“Lanturn!” the subject of this conversation yelled in mad defiance. The light Pokémon did not appreciate being whacked over the head repeatedly with a flaming stick, then forced into a small, cramped ball with no water inside at all.

“Thanks a million, Thomas. You’ll probably work wonders on my little baby here.” Beth walked out of the room, barely avoiding a Thunder Wave attack aimed right for her legs.

“So, Thomas is going to spiff up that Lanturn you just caught?” inquired Fisherman Ralph, Gaki extraordinaire. “It doesn’t look all that bad to me. Besides, it doesn’t even have any hair!”

“This is true, Ralph. But the fact remains that Lanturn hates my guts. So if it gets a haircut, it will be my friend.”

“How the hell do you figure that? I mean, you did beat it senseless without warning.”

“I don’t. But that’s how this stuff works. I guess Pokémon are vain, or something. By the way, I haven’t seen that Dratini you caught at the Safari Zone since you caught it. Has it learned any new attacks?”

“I don’t have a Dratini,” answered Ralph.

“Really? I could have sworn-“

“If I have a Dratini, then Sonic and Tails are in Super Smash Brothers Melee before you KO twenty wire frames.”

“Ralph, Sonic and Tails aren’t in the game at all! Sega’s still a third party when all is said and done, so neither one will ever be in a Smash Brothers game! Get it through your thick skull!”

“You’re just saying that because you don’t have the skills involved in unlocking these wonderful mascots!”

“No, I’m saying it because Shigeru Miyamoto confirmed that they are not in this game! By any means! Now put down “Confessions” and get a grip, Ralph!”

“But AAML Fan rules! I’ll tell you, this line is classic! ‘yes i do she's so pretty but it's more then that’ If that doesn’t convey the emotions of true love, what does?”

“Romeo and Juliet, Casablanca, Night of the Horrific Monster-Like Thingy Guy, and other works with some semblance of spelling, grammar, and plot.” As Ralph readied his most reasonable retort, the same young man from the night before came by, flanked by three of his Pokémon. Two of them were laughing. The other was doing whatever a Starmie does when it thinks something is funny. The Expos fan’s laughter had long subsided, perhaps due to eight years of horrible baseball from his favorite team.

The Charizard sniffed the air. Suddenly, it made a grunting noise, indicating that he had found something. He quickly snatched the fanfic from Ralph’s hands and fired off an Ember attack. Pokéshippers everywhere celebrated as this ugly piece of Gaki garbage received its just fate and burned into ashes. As Ralph lamented the passing of his favorite written work, the dark-haired young woman to his side joined the pointing and laughing.

“It’s not funny, Beth! A fanfiction author spent days on end writing this, only to have it horribly insulted by Barbara L. LeMaster and The Review Guy! Writing is a challenge, Beth. It’s very hard to sit down with the subject matter and carefully mold it into a believable tale.”

Beth held down her laughter for a few moments. “Ralph, the writer probably spent seconds on end writing that piece of crud. The standards of written English are completely ignored, internet shorthand runs rampant, nobody’s in character and there isn’t even a storyline! It’s inexcusable! My Rapidash could write better than that, and she can’t even hold a pencil! Pikachu’s lines are pointlessly translated and make no real sense! If you want a good AAMRN, read some Togepretty, Ilex the Elder, or Geodude. But AAML fan’s work would get an F in preschool!”

At this moment, I would like to acknowledge that Beth’s Rapidash has written a nifty little story about a Rapidash who expresses her feelings through poetry. She can’t write about any other species, however. She isn’t all that good at inventing characters.

Like that ever stopped me.

Ralph let Beth’s points sink in. This time, she was probably right. But then, if Ash and Misty weren’t to fall in love like in “Confessions,” how would it happen? Somewhat depressed, he let out his Tentacruel and Surfed into town for some ice cream. After all, nothing cheered him up like some delicious Rocky Road. Once on the other side, Ralph recalled the jellyfish Pokémon and started walking towards Disgusting Bob’s. Along the way, he heard laughter. The laughter of the heavens at my plight, he reasoned. Upon a closer look it was revealed that this was the laughter of a Slowbro which had managed to snatch away his trainer’s Pokegear and was listening to Places and People.

“So, like, that Bug Catcher outside Jhoto National Park – what’s his name again? I’ll call him Arnie for now. He totally decides, out of nowhere, that he’s going to turn his limited charms on gorgeous, pink haired me! So here I am, getting ready to interview Whitney on her training technique, completely lost on my way to the studio, and there’s a freaky guy following my every move!”

“So, what’d you do next?”

“Well, since you ask so nicely, I’ll tell you! But first, the weather report…” DJ Lily and her new radio sidekick were splitting the sides of Kanto’s commuters like they did every day. It’s really a pretty good show, and you can feel the romantic tension crackling in that studio from wherever you are.

They broadcast from the radio tower in Lavender.

There’s a giant antenna on top of the tower. During lightning storms, it gathers in great amounts of electricity. In fact, that’s what keeps the station in the black, considering the fact that they don’t advertise.

Correction: absurd amounts of electricity are gathered in that simple piece of metal.

“Great Scott!”

[Evil Figment]

Hey! Stop making fun of the Expos!

It's not nice to make fun of them around a moderator from the Montréal suburbs ;-)

That said, great addition (though of course, waiting for more of this chapter) :-)

[A Concerned Solomon]

Well, one of the big moments in the story will have Jack "uncork a throw that would have made Vladmir Guerrero proud."

I watch about eight Expos games a year (being a Mets fan and all), and the lack of a crowd borders on frightening. I don't know how Guerrero and Vidro and even Orlando Cabrera can stand to play in front of such a paltry audience night in and night out.

Despite anything Ichiro and A-Rod fans say, I strongly believe that Vladmir is the best ballplayer in the world today. The ultimate five-tool monster!

[A Concerned Solomon]

I figure I might as well reply and tell you all that Chapter Eight is finished. Besides, I'll be at the top of the list again.

[Blackjack Palazzo]

*snicker* BWAHAHA!!

*wants to be parodied like she was in a Digimon fic once*

[A Concerned Solomon]

I am REALLY surprised nobody mentioned Lenore's talking Electrode. Of course, an FF.net reviewer suggests I pair Jack and Lenore, so people are seeing things I don't as well.

[brandon™]

I loved it. Great work.:-) I loved the Slowbro scene and all the other parodies.

“If I have a Dratini, then Sonic and Tails are in Super Smash Brothers Melee before you KO twenty wire frames.”

“Ralph, Sonic and Tails aren’t in the game at all! Sega’s still a third party when all is said and done, so neither one will ever be in a Smash Brothers game! Get it through your thick skull!”

“You’re just saying that because you don’t have the skills involved in unlocking these wonderful mascots!”

“No, I’m saying it because Shigeru Miyamoto confirmed that they are not in this game! By any means! Now put down “Confessions” and get a grip, Ralph!”

That ruled as well. :-D

[Evil Figment]

Great addition :)

As for the expos, meh. It was a popular team - up until 95. Then first there was the striek while they were cruising on their way to taking part in the series with one of the league's best team. Then the team dirrection decided they shouldn't have such a big team.

So they traded away just about every fan favorites. (Why hold on to a team that trade away all its good players?)

Then after that there were the repeated threats of the team moving away (Why hold on to a team that's going to move away?)

Then there was Jeffrey Loria who came in with the very obvious (in hindsight) aim to ruin the team further so he could move it to somewhere else. He refused to make any decent deal on TV stuff, etc, so that the only way to see a game was to actually pay at the stadium.

It's no fault of the players or the fan, what's happening there. Loria, Selig and the previous directions just murdered the link between the team and the fans.

[A Concerned Solomon]

Yeah. It's terrible. Absolutely terrible. It's almost as bad as the Dodgers leaving Brooklyn, but not quite. No, I wasn't around in those days, but much of my extended family was. And boy, they loved "dem bums."

And now Fred Wilpon has delusional ideas about building a domed stadium in Manhattan for the Mets in the style of Ebbetts Field. With retractable grass as well as a retractable roof. He's crazy. I'd make fun, but neither of my options for Gym Leader would spend so much money on something so ridiculous. Maybe I can make Mayor Morbucks do something of the sort...

[Blackjack Palazzo]

<--baseball talk goes over her head

[A Concerned Solomon]

Ah, I know the feeling. Whenever my friends start talking about Yu-Gi-Oh, I just smile and nod. The Legendary Fisherman looks like crap. I know he was supposed to fit the image of Monster mor than anything, but this guy's a legendary caveman!

[A Concerned Solomon]

"Shot the moon again! Ha!" came the victorious roar of Joe Green, Pokémon Nurse Extraordinaire. At least, he was incredible when he actually did his job. Which wasn't very often. Leave a Pokémon at the Cerulean Pokémon Center and you can expect it back in about a month. At least with Nurse Joy you're only in trouble during one time of the month. But nobody complains about that.


In related news, Jenny Johnson of the Vermillion Police Force has recovered the body of Gentleman William. It was found in the closet of the Vermillion Pokémon Center, along with his companion, a small claustrophobic Pikachu. Coincidence? I think not. When Joy's friend is in town, you'd better not be.


"Blissey!" shouted Blissey. She wanted a turn on the computer as well. Not being allowed on the computer made Blissey miserable.


Joe is always miserable. It's the main reason those two get along so well.


"Ah, wait your turn! I'm winning big here!" Joe was answered by a pounding noise from outside. "You doing that, Blissey?" Blissey shrugged what passed for her shoulders and went outside to see what all the commotion was about.


"Hi. My Electrode is in bad shape. Can you help it?"


"Bliss! Blissey!"


"Yes, I can read the sign. 'No loud noises.' But you did have the door locked! A Pokémon Center is supposed to be open at all times."


"Lenore is correct. Pokémon League By-Law number 10875," Electrode chimed in, "The Pokémon Center in every town having a Pokémon Gym must be open and operating at all times."


Joe stormed out fuming. “This is an emergency situation! I hate my life and my job! It’s a psychological emergency! I’m never getting out of this hellhole, and I’ll be damned if you think I’m going to help you and your career!”



“Even in emergency situations, you are obligated to-“



“I don’t give a crap what I’m obligated to do! I’m not doing it! Tell the local Gym Leader about it! Hah!” You see, trainers who don’t like battling like Joe. He makes battling impossible, one stubborn refusal to work at a time. This allows said trainers to have side careers in such fields as broadcasting or the arts. This doesn’t change the fact that he should be fired. It just keeps him from actually being fired.



“Can I do it, then? All I have to do is put my Poké Balls in the tray and follow the prompts on the screen. For anyone with a shred of computer literacy, it’s a piece of cake!”



Joe pondered his options for a moment. “Go ahead. It’s right behind the desk. I’m playing hearts, as if anybody cared about me.”



“Thank you! Mean Joe, I think you’re the best ever!” rambled Lenore as she gave him a Soda Pop. He looked the can over for a second, then threw at back to the dark-haired pest who ruined his game.



“I hate Soda Pop! Don’t you know that Lemonade restores more HP?”



“Yes, but it’s for you! Most people like Soda Pop better. Particularly the corrupt guards outside Saffron, but that’s a story for another day. Personally, I think Mystic Water is delicious, but that’s just my personal opinion.”



“Just heal your damn Pokémon and go away.”



Lenore nodded. Blissey picked up the can of Soda Pop, opened it, and downed it in one shot. “Bliss see!” Gotta love Pepsi Twist, baby! With that, she tried to unzip her Blissey costume. Unfortunately, her fur didn’t have a zipper, or buttons, or anything of the sort.



I think we all know why. Blissey does too.



That makes her very miserable. But then, what doesn’t?



***

“How prone is this machine to crashing?” asked Jack as he began logging into his account.



“Not very. We upgraded to Windows ’95 very recently!” For some strange reason, Jack began to feel extremely queasy. Even so, the thing had booted up, so it wasn’t all going badly.



Jack read the prompt on the screen. Username: Hammerman105 Password:******



Access denied.



Username: Hammerman105 Password:******



Access denied.



Username: Hammerman105 Password:******



Access denied.



Jack gave up and clicked the box to recover his password. His Pokégear beeped, and a question appeared on it.



What is the meaning of life?



Jack thought it over for a moment. The meaning of life…



If I knew, I’d tell you. But the fact is, man and Pokémon alike have pondered this question since the very beginning and still haven’t figured it out. I pray that I am not spending my life the wrong way. But if I am, blame my parents.



Access approved. Your password is MORONS.



With this knowledge, he began typing away on the computer. All he saw in the password box, no matter what he typed, were little stars. Annoyed, he closed his eyes and typed in his case-sensitive password.



Thank goodness. I was starting to believe you were the most pathetic creature on the face of the planet. Deposit or Withdraw Pokémon?



Deposit. Jack placed Houndoom’s Pokéball in the slot. In an instant, it vanished.



Withdraw. Box one, Male Raichu.



The Fast Ball with which he had caught a Pichu so long ago appeared in the slot. He took it down and sent out the mouse Pokémon.



“Rai chu rai!” he cried happily, glad to be out in the fresh air again.



“Jolteon eon?” Still wearing those sunglasses, huh?



“Raichu, rai raichu?” Yeah, got a problem with it?



“That’s a pretty strong bunch of Pokémon you got there, kid,” remarked Bill. “Are you in the League or something?”



“Almost. I’m just in town to get one more badge, and hopefully I’ll be in. But I have to win first.” Bill simply laughed. “What’s so funny?”



“Seriously, you went out and got your other electric Pokémon? Kid, listen good: nobody EVER ends up in a battle for that thing. They give them out for free! All of the gym’s Pokémon are stuck with Nurse Joe, and if you came all the way up here, you know how likely it is that he’ll do his job. All you have to do is show up. Worst-case scenario, you have a one-on-one. No big deal.”



“Charizard!” I’m getting very bored and might start destroying things if we don’t leave soon.



“Ha!” Ha!



***



“Thank you very much. That Explosion attack hurt very badly, but now I’m fighting fit!”



“I hope never to see this bastard again,” Lenore replied, taking a mocking bow.



“For that little remark, Missy, you’re going to heal every Pokémon in this building! Blissey, guard the door so she doesn’t try anything! Clefable, I choose you!” The fairy Pokémon growled in fury after emerging from his Pokéball, then joined Blissey in front of the door. "And tell your talking Electrode to shut up!"

Lenore Kaptcha sighed and got to work.

[Blackjack Palazzo]

*snicker* Not up there with the other chapters, but still funny.

[A Concerned Solomon]

When I came up with Joe's last name, I thought of a nickname like "The Mean Green Machine." Then I remembered that a "Mean" Joe Greene played for the Steelers back in the '70s. He was featured in a famous Coca-Cola ad, which later became a (bad) movie called "The Steeler and the Pittsburgh Kid." (Hence the chapter title.)

Unfortunately, spoofing a thirty-second TV spot does not a chapter make. I didn't really want to bring out Raichu this early.

Also, Lenore helping the Pokemon is the ironic turn of events which keeps this thing going. So this chapter was more for the sake of plot. The bike shop guy is a spoof of Jiri, BTW.

[Blackjack Palazzo]

Really?

*goes to look*

Huh...I dont' see any bike shop guy. What chapter is he in?

[A Concerned Solomon]

He shows up soon. Not yet.

[A Concerned Solomon]

But not without goodies! I give you...The Shipper's Guide to Night of the Horriffic Monster-Like Thingy Guy!

Dragonshipping: Jack's Charizard & the Dratini Ralph doesn't have
Cursedshipping, Heartshipping: Jack & Joe
Angryyoungtrainershipping: Jack & Lenore
Clicheshipping: Ralph & Mewtwo, Ralph & Suicune
Fishcoolshipping: Ralph & Beth
League-boundshipping: Jack & Beth
Healershipping, Nogriponrealityshipping: Lenore & Joe
Princetonreviewshipping: John (Jack's rival) & the tutor who got him through the back door to the Pokemon League
Tooearlyforamatchshipping, Martystushipping: Jack & Misty
Toolateforamatchshipping: Jack & Zapdos
Pinkshipping: Jack's Wigglytuff & Joe's Blissey
Neodragonshipping: Jack's Charizard and Ralph's Dragonair
Computershipping: Mr. Fix's Raichu and Jack's Raichu
Viridanshipping: Jack & John, Jack & Giovanni, Joe & Giovanni...ah, screw it, call everything Viridianshipping!

[A Concerned Solomon]

The idea of winning a badge for doing nothing was very foreign to Jack. He had suffered through many early defeats before Charizard (then a Charmeleon) single-handedly blasted through Erika’s grass-types. From there, he still struggled somewhat. Persistence was his main positive attribute. He spent hours on end teaching his Jigglypuff every attack the two could possibly think of. He spent hundreds of dollars importing rare TMs from the Houen region, teaching Charizard such exotic tricks as Dragon Claw, Arial Ace, and Overheat. His Jolteon’s Shock Wave punched holes in the strategies of many a trainer whose entire game plan consisted of “Run, hide, rinse, and repeat.”

But winning for nothing at all? Impossible! Where was the semi-invincible Blastoise, which only Pichu was small enough to bring down? How could somebody be worthy without finding some obscure attack with which to stop the freakishly mobile Magcargo in the volcano? Where was the annoying surfing Raichu?

“Rai-chuuuu! Raichu, rai raichu!”

Oh, right. The annoying surfing Raichu was busy making Jolteon jealous of the fact that she couldn’t surf.

Pokémon Training was a very expensive profession, but Jack realized that he did it out of love. All of his Pokémon, each in his or her own special (if sometimes acutely irritating) way, had made some difference in his life. Raichu made him want to hurt people. Scyther hurt people when Jack felt lazy. Wigglytuff was always there for motherly advice and had the rare gift of escaping her ball at the best possible moment. Houndoom introduced him to classical literature, which made him want to destroy things. Charizard destroyed everything before he got the chance. Jolteon beat Charizard up for destroying everything. All in all, they were a happy family-like group, although soon enough he’d be returning to his real family for a while. Which was good, because his mother’s cooking beat Charizard’s extra-crispy black food-like substance any day.

Alas, it was definitely showtime. “Yo, Champ-in-making!”

“I have a name, pal. It’s Jack.”

“And I’m not ‘Pal.’ Okay, here’s the deal. If that goon squad of yours can blast through Poliwrath, it’s all over. That’s all they have available!” Jack simply laughed at the idea and then opened the door to the gym.

“Thanks for everything, Hint Giver! I’ll be out of here in no time, with a Cascade Badge in my hand!” The door closed, and Jack found himself in some sort of bizarre cross between Madison Square Garden and the indoor pool at his elementary school. He checked the seats, and supposed they could fit 30,000 or so, but that was definitely a bit much for any gym match. There had to be something more to it…

An exploding scoreboard hung from the ceiling, not a very safe place when Flying Pokémon were involved. Charizard, as if on cue, took off towards the ceiling to gauge how well he could use the air space.

[Not bad, not bad at all. Hell, I suppose I could even snipe with my Flamethrower, if I stay a good distance back and kind of hover…Starmie, help me out here! Why don’t you stand in the opposing trainer’s box, and I’ll try to roast you from here!]

[Have you gone mad? Why would somebody take an unnecessary hit from your Flamethrower, besides helping you show off?] began Jolteon. [Nobody likes a showoff, fly-boy.] Raichu performed a few acrobatic maneuvers on the water as if to ask Who do you think you’re kidding?

“Guys, keep it down. I’m getting a headache here.”

[Ditto that,] Scyther chimed in. [Yet another medication to add to my list. Drug-free Kanto, eh?]

“Enough. Hey, leader! Wherever you are! Come down and show yourself!” A group of raving fanboys at the entrance nodded their approval, earning a death glare from our lovable challenger. “I come in peace and mean no harm – except to Poliwrath and any other available battlers you may have.”

“We mean to stare and point and drool and draw fan art!” added an overenthusiastic fanboy. Charizard took the opportunity to show off, hitting his target from a hundred feet up and blackening the little pervert something awful. Starmie popped out of the drink and spun wildly, all the while making a little “Ha” noise. The other three fanboys prepared to jump the little purple Pokémon, only to be used as pinball bumpers in a nifty little Rapid Spin attack and sent straight to the floor and bombarded with another round of “Ha” sounds. Wigglytuff shot a series of Ice Beams at the quartet, chasing them from the gym.

[Are you sure those dudes weren’t the leaders?] asked Jolteon, who had spent that whole scene jumping aimlessly from platform to platform in a fantastic (if arguably pointless) display of the highly popular Agility technique. [Stranger things have happened in fanfiction, you know.]

“Oh, I’m quite sure,” replied Jack. “The one Charizard blackened – that was Dorien, the unofficial Coastline dude from Jhoto. He’s one of the most bizarre characters in history, right up there with Michael Jackson and the Phillies Phanatic, popping up at almost every gym battle asking for an autograph and a date. Or at least that’s what the traveler’s guide says…”

(It also makes the outlandish claim that $1 Million is the cost of an “affordable” Mach Bike! It may be affordable, but only if your last name is Tajiri. Kids, whenever you want a bike, it’s a good idea to find some old guy or his little brother and let him bore your brains out gushing over a Rapidash. To date, it’s the only method known to succeed.)

shouted Scyther, holding a piece of paper delicately in his claws. [I think it’s a note!] Jack walked over to the green bug type and grabbed the note before it could be unintentionally shredded.

[I]Out at supermarket to get conditioner. Will be out a few hours. Thanks for your patience, as this is no easy task. Each of us needs a rare brand from Mauville, which is only delivered to the store on alternate Tuesdays.

Jack began to spit out curses like a Camerupt whose Eruption attack had just been encored, at one point kicking over a stack of Pokéballs, releasing a Poliwrath and a Gyarados. The two water types immediately set to work destroying the building that housed them. Jack recalled his Pokémon, ran outside, and started kicking dirt and swearing.

[Blackjack Palazzo]

Dear god...heeheehee...heeheehee...

I look forward to the next part!

[A Concerned Solomon]

Who just chose the "Hottest Guy" option? I've got three votes on that now, and since I haven't detailed Jack's physical appearance it is cause for concern...

[A Concerned Solomon]

Ariados-Man slowly got up from under the rubble. Sparky Wattson was always one of the more clever villains around, and this time he managed to bring down an entire building with electrically powered explosives. Alan Websling, nobody TV newscaster, would never survive such impact – but nobody squishes the Absurd Ariados-Man! Not even an abandoned toy factory could destroy him! Never mind that he’s as scrawny a superhero as ever there was – physics, be damned!



“You know you’re reading a great comic when the reader can see the whole plotline in one italicized paragraph,” mused Joe Green, erstwhile Pokémon nurse and all-around apathetic jerk. “The art was excellent! Japanese art is automatically better than anything anyone else ever does!”



“Why are you so biased against everyone else’s style?” asked Lenore Kaptcha, whom Joe had suckered into doing all his work for him that day. “Just because it’s manga doesn’t mean it’s any good. Thirty pages about an abandoned toy factory that made little Nurse Joy figurines! And for heavens sakes, Spinarak and Ariados can’t use Bite, Mind Reader, and Strength, Seismic Toss - need I continue? This stuff is so implausible, so ridiculous…and Cleffa Girl hasn’t evolved yet, despite routinely having her way with every guy she meets!”



“It’s a major plot point. For all the wonderful physical love she gets, she has yet to find the one who will make her whole,” explained Joe. “Of course, part of it is that the writers decided to keep her stupid and immature. I don’t know why.”



“Whatever. I’m done, so I’m getting out of here so I can hunt down my Slowbro. Then I think I’ll try for a Gym Badge! I’ll supercharge Electrode with this AC Adapter-“



“Don’t,” instructed Electrode. “You haven’t a clue how to take care of the residual effects, which include fatigue, dry mouth, bloating, and flu-like symptoms. Not to mention the fact that it’s rather cheap and unfair.”



“-Feed Bagon some flaming-hot chili peppers, and then shove a firehose down Slowbro’s throat to give it lots of water! Water Gun from hell! Water, water everywhere, I’ll send you to the drink!”



[That’s not all she’s been drinking,] remarked Clefable. It went online to check the news and see if anything of importance had taken place since he was last loosed from his Pokéball. [Let’s see: “Teenager Defeats Gym Leaders’ Fanboys, Goes Berserk.” Not very interesting…ooh, here’s something you never see! “Disgruntled Pokémon Nurse Joe Green Faces Recall Election!”]



“Really? I can be a Pokémon Nurse one day?” asked a little pink-haired girl of about seven. “Mommy, sign me up! I love Pokémon!”



“No, dear. Remember what happened the last time you tried to take care of a Pokémon? You completely fried that poor Wingull! I don’t think it ever recovered after that!”



“But Mommy,” whined little Joy, “I read that Stephen King book about the nice black man and thought that was what you were supposed to do! He made people better!”



“Honey, Wingull is one thing, but these are Pokémon trainers! They’d be relying on you! What happens if somebody brings in a Houndoom? Washing its fur like you did last time HURTS Houndoom!”



“But Mom…I don’t like my bath either! You have to be hurting to get better! See?” With that, she sent out an Azurill and punted it fifty-three yards, barely missing Jack’s head. Brian Mitchell appeared and downed the little blue normal-type right outside the supermarket. Azurill screamed in terror as the Giants offense took the field. “And this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity! Do you want me to grow up emotionally injured and blame my family for all of my problems? I’ll even train a Pichu and blame all of its problems on you, you despicable human being!”



Her mom at last gave in. “Very well, but only because it’s such a rare chance for you. But you are NOT making that angry man behind the counter heal Azurill.” At that precise moment, Kerry Collins was sacked, fumbling Azurill for the hundredth time of the year. Azurill screamed as she was body-slammed by the entire Tampa Bay defense, and let out a horrendous yell of pain as Ron Dayne joined the pile.



“Enough. Everybody out of here, right now! I’m running a Pokémon Center, not a circus!”



“You’re just jealous because you don’t understand football!” complained Joy as she was shoved out the door. “Go get ‘em, Strahan! You show them you ate your Chunky Soup!” Joe then grabbed her and hurled her outside.



“See?” noted an old man in the corner. “This is exactly what I’m talking about! The connection between you and your customers isn’t there! We’ve been doing our jobs, now it’s time for you to do yours! Mister Fix for Pokémon Nurse in ’03! I’ll solve everything! I have friends in high places! And-”



“And just like the others, you have no clue how the hell to do it. It’s you, some industrialist from Jersey, some fanboy who wants to make every day ‘Lily Waterflower Appreciation Day,’ Al Gore, a crack whore from New Bark, that little girl, and Agatha of the Elite Four among many others. I’d vote for Agatha because I’m a sucker for famous people, but she’s old…I think that leaves me! Vote for Joe! Leave here now!”



“Catchy,” noted Electrode as it rolled out, got stuck in the doorway, and was recalled.



“It’s not a slogan, damn it!” shouted Joe. “It’s-”



[There’s nobody else here, Joe!] noted Blissey. [They all left.]



“This just goes to show how skilled I am at keeping my Pokémon Center in order!” yelled the deluded nurse. “I have this baby clinched!”



[“People Leave Pokémon Center to Watch Mysterious American Sport,”] read Clefable. [See also, “Bizarre Game About Beating People Up For No Reason Appears In Cerulean Streets.”]



explained Blissey. [Think about it. The coaches see how the defense is aligned – in this case the Giants are going to blitz Peterson off the corner. So Jon Gruden – that’s the Bucs’ trainer – sees this and tells his team to use Short Pass attack, which is Super-Effective against blitzes. So Jim Fassel changes his defense to try and beat this adjustment. It goes back and forth like that.]



“So how come the Giants had the ball? What does that mean? And what type is Ron Dayne?”



[It means Kerry Collins can’t hold on to the ball to save his life,] snapped Blissey. [And Ron Dayne isn’t a type, but he’s like a Magikarp. Except the Magikarp could beat him up.]



[“Pokémon Nurse Is Lazy Bastard!”] read Clefable. [Okay, how the hell do they find these things out? I don’t believe it!]



I know, but I ain’t telling. Try to guess for yourselves, fans.



“I have had enough with this character defamation!” stated Joe boldly. “Read off the article, Clefable!”



[It’s asking for my username and password,] mentioned Clefable, [and I don’t have one. Should I make one up?]



“Sure,” answered Joe. “Do something cool, like ‘Omega Warrior 2953!’”



“Charr-baka!” exclaimed Arbok.



[That username sucks. I’m neither a Charmander nor a moron! I’m a Clefable, for crying out loud! I don’t get football because I don’t watch it! Is that so hard to understand?]



[Not really,] noted Blissey, [but what is bizarre is the fact that an Arbok is trying to bite your head off. If only you had a discernable head, it might even succeed!]



Arbok dove again for the fairy Pokémon, but this time it bit nothing but linoleum. Clefable jumped onto the purple snake’s neck and tried to grip it in a Submission hold, only to be Iron Tailed onto the floor itself. Blissey grabbed Arbok by its jaws and began to whirl about like Mario about to hurl Bowser, then let go suddenly, Seismic Tossing the crazed python straight into the computer’s monitor. Both Arbok and the display screen fell backwards into the wall, and broken glass charged with electricity created gaping cuts in its serpentine flesh. Clefable and Blissey attempted to do peace signs, but remembered that their paws didn’t even have opposable thumbs and left it at that.



“Come on, guys. That thing’s out cold, and I’m hungry. Let’s see if we can get one of John Madden’s Blooming Onions to share!”



“Chaaaaaaar-bock!” yelled the apparently unconscious Arbok, slithering over to Joe’s desk and Headbutting the red button used for locking down the Center on days when Joe didn’t feel like seeing any more patients. “Bok!”



[Oh yeah?] asked Blissey. [Your momma’s so fat, when she used Water Gun everyone thought a Miltank was attacking them!] Arbok, actually having a Miltank for a grandmother, smashed his head into the floor at a special, precise angle, creating a massive Fissure that ran in a straight line right into the offensive egg carrying Pokémon. She screamed in terror as she fell into the Cerulean sewer system, falling onto the concrete floor of the pipes headfirst and losing consciousness from the sheer pain.



“Arrrrrbok?”



“Are you kidding me? I’m not going to help you! You just assaulted two of my Pokémon because you’re easily offended, you big dope!” Arbok thought of using Fissure to wipe Joe out, but then thought better of it. Adopting a rather snakelike evil grin, he shook his head and stood to his full height in front of the desk, guarding the button from anyone who might want to play hero.



“If it’s a battle you want, snake-breath, it’s a battle you’ll get! Clefable, get him!” Arbok smashed the floor again, but Clefable, recognizing the attack, leapt into the air and shot into a Skull Bash attack. Arbok coiled his body up and let Clefable sail over the top of the counter, straight into the wall. Suddenly, Joe was struck by an idea - a risky one, but one that might be just crazy enough to work. “Clefable, Encore!”



[I guess…] Clefable already wasn’t too fond of dodging Fissure attacks, thanks to the throbbing pain in his head, but he began a mystical, rhythmic clap. Suddenly, Arbok couldn’t help showing off, and began spraying Fissures left and right, utterly decimating the floor and various objects throughout the room. Joe noticed, but it was all part of his plan. “Clefable, Take Down!” A sense of realization hit Clefable as he grasped Joe’s master plan. Leaping into the air, he this time flitted his small wings for a little extra speed as he slammed straight into Arbok’s round neck and shoved the beast down one of its own massive holes in the ground, and both Clefable and Arbok fell into the sewer.



[We gotcha!] yelled Clefable as he threw a Fire Punch into Arbok’s face. Arbok threw his burning head right into Clefable, but only hit air as Joe activated the recall beams on both of his Pokéballs and fired them down the crevice, first snatching Clefable and then rescuing the listless Blissey. Whoever had trained that Arbok had quite a bit of talent, he figured, and that thing could beat any Professor Plum out there…



“…But there’s no one around that can bring down Mister Green!” finished Joe for the author. He walked triumphantly to the counter to push the button, only to have his hand caught in a coil of lavender flesh. Arbok swung its tail and Slammed Joe to the floor, and then quickly smacked away his two Pokéballs in one graceful motion. Still caught underground, Arbok lunged through one of the walls of the canal and burrowed upwards into the Pokémon Center, blasting straight through the floor and landing right in front of his nemesis.



“Chaaa-baka!” the monster cried again, this time letting the poisonous venom dripping from his fangs do most of the real communicating. He had a nasty wound across his chest that was troubling him greatly, caused by a wild Croconaw having a very bad day. Now he was having a very bad day himself, and would likely destroy the building without a thought if it would get him healed. [i]But Bob said that it needed professional help, and unfortunately this bastard is the only one who can help. Also, the newly formed burn on his face was beginning to really smart.



Joe got up, somewhat sore but as defiant as ever. He hadn’t really landed all that hard on the ground, and the destruction didn’t concern him all that much – it was nothing the insurance plan didn’t cover. He of course paid no mind to the fact that Arbok was getting more and more irate as well and might well snap, but instead reached into his coat pocket for another Pokéball.



Spinarak materialized in the midst of what appeared to be the site of a Team Aqua vs. Team Magma confrontation. The floor tiles had scattered and huge crevices had appeared in the floor. Machines were demolished, and shattered glass dotted the floor, and there was no way in hell the insurance people would be willing to pay for it all to be fixed. Standing over her was a pained but enraged Arbok ready to use a Sludge Bomb attack. Now the attack was coming…and Spinarak was sent sprawling into Joe, and both were knocked unconscious in the blast.

------------------------------

Long, eh? I cut it off here for an effect of sorts that doesn't really work on a message board.

[DGE]

... Geez. Why haven't I read this before now? Oh wait, it's because I'm lazy and I suck.

I have no idea what happened just now, but I'm talking to three different people, and also I have the attention span of a Furret. Oooh look, a penny! I like cheese. I also like it better when Ralph's crappy fanfic gets Ember attacked.

Perish song. :lol: Keep it up, yo.

[A Concerned Solomon]

Flaming a bad fanfic becomes literal. I liked it when I wrote it.

Yeah, I'll try to get cranking again. Thanks for the feedback, all!

[A Concerned Solomon]

I have not figured out why my fanfic went as long as it did. How did it get fifty reviews despite the author being a useless, no-talent hack who relies on self-deprecation at every turn and the cast, including myself, being an endless host of recycled cliches? That's the question I set out to answer.

I had hired a bunch of literary people, including a couple cute girls, but then I realized the money was better spent on impressing girls than paying them. In the end, I just spent it all on me and said to hell with both options.

So I did some research. It bored me to tears, really it did. I finally figured the answer might have been the application of heroic personality traits such as persistance and intelligence to a frankly stupid and selfish goal which may well have been a MacGuffin. Needless to say, I haven't a clue what a MacGuffin is, but nerds tell me that it's something Quentin Tarantino did, so it must be cool. Needless to say, these are nerds. Nobody likes a nerd.

Which comes to why I'm here now, after my story has spent so long a period untold.

Money? Nah, doesn't pay well. Babes? I think that ship took off without me...

It's a bad metaphor. I had five years of education and left home to pursue said stupid and selfish goal at the age of ten. Fucking sue me, I'm not Anne Rice. If I was, you'd be the one getting sued, and I'd have no use for babes. I wonder if I'd be after Brad Pitt?

Which might mean something. I've rambled on and on and gotten absolutely nowhere. Is that the whole point of it all?

Good enough, dude.

***

Meanwhile, at the Hall of Justice...

Once upon a time, my twin sister and I ruled the airwaves. Sure, we replaced Green Arrow and got people all mad, but who cares? We had it all - fortune, fame, and a kickass sibling name.

But nobody loves the eighties anymore. Hell, they can't tell who I am, but they can sure use my catchphrase. Form of...a knife!

Time to...cut myself. If only I can figure out how to make a knife bend...

How the hell am I getting back to normal, anyway? Damn.

***

My whole extended family dumped on me. But of course, the mistake lies with them. Never does someone actually turn out to be a worthless loser who gets dumped on, right?

But of course, my clone siblings always win. Because they're prettier than me. Aren't pretty people supposed to lose unless played by Hilary Duff?

Life's not fair. That, and a giant snake just kicked my ass. It's dark in here...like the darkness in my soul. Man, that's clever.

Like the darkness in my soul. I freaking love that.

***

Idiot. My master is an idiot. I think it's some sort of Pokemon Trainer Prerequisite.

You don't know me. But I know you. I hear you in the darkness of dream, muttering about the darkness in your soul and how much you freaking love it. You want dark fries with that? How about the Dark Shake?

When's Aqua Teen Hunger Force on, anyway? Damn, I feel for that Carl. Trapped in a world he never made...

***

Okay, like, why in the hell would someone put a song in the middle of a story? Is it supposed to make the reader feel all gooey or emotional or something? It really doesn't work, if that's the idea. I mean, whenever you see a song, you know you've walked into a bad story. That goes double for, like, a boy band or something. And if you have an anime song...hit the deck.

Which reminds me...some weird guy rounded up a bunch of random people to discuss a silly fanfic about some dimwit with a Wigglytuff. Amusing stuff, not exactly brilliant satire but a decent parody. He had a had a totally creepy look on his face...ugh, and he went on about his low budget or something, and how he has to find some incompetent wackos who were ruining his career...idiotic drivel at its finest.

***

Who's that, look,
Flying higher than a bird
SAILOR! SAILOR MOON!
She's got a life in the sky
And another here on Earth
SAILOR! SAILOR MOON!

She's got her cat Luna
To give her advice
She's so fine
So stand by her side!

SAILOR! SAILOR MOON!
SAILOR! SAILOR MOON!

Sometimes she's a fun-loving
sixteen year old girl
SAILOR! SAILOR MOON!
Sometimes she's a superhero
For the world
SAILOR! SAILOR MOON!

She can get dressed up
And look so sweet
She morphs into a form
that can't be beat!

SAILOR! SAILOR MOON!
SAILOR! SAILOR MOON!

She's ready to fight
For all that she believes
SAILOR! SAILOR MOON!
She's gonna stop evil forces
And save the galaxy
SAILOR! SAILOR MOON!

She and her four friends
Stand by her dreams
They gonna fight crime
Again and again!
SAILOR! SAILOR MOON!
SAILOR! SAILOR MOON!

***

Sailor Moon! The thing with the talking kitty, and the really violent chick, the dumb blonde, and the boring person! Hooray female empowerment! Watching that show made me believe I could do anything. Even when people told me I was wrong, I kept believing.

Of course, now when I get beat senseless, I have a new set of role models: a dumb blonde, a boring person, and a dumb sports person. My dad says something about the writing being awful, but he just doesn't get it.

***

Mike- blitzing. Wham - zone. Sam - guitar riff. No, he's on Bubba. Safety's helping out with Marcus, and the rest is some kind of chicken.

No, Turducken. It's just like John Madden said, Brett Favre always comes through in the clutch.

I wonder if he knows about Mary? Nah, doubt it...27...HUT!

***

I think I'm living in a hellhole of idiocy. This entire town reeks of it. Hell, I've seen smart idiots around here, I guess have enough and they start to come in every kind, kinda like a Darwin sort of thing.

Anyway, Ralph goes fishing every day for a Chinchou to help him with his bizarro plot to do something or other in the name of appealing to a dying tribe of readers...or something. Arguing with him doesn't even work. I'd leave him here, but I half think he might find a way to kill himself by accident with that fishing rod of his.

[Evil Figment]

*blinks*

I think that's about the only answer one could give.

[Blackjack Palazzo]

Whoo! BEST CHAPTER EVER!

[A Concerned Solomon]

Well, I do hope you mean it, as I'm frankly getting concerned about the feedback on FF.net.

This chapter features two of the more...bizarre cliches I've run across. Of course, the parody genre has its standards, which I hope I have avoided in large part. I tried to make the characters somewhat different while maintaining them as, as Jack so horribly ineloquently puts it, "a host of cliches." I also felt that by taking a wide-ranging attack on many genres and not really following the plotline of one of them I might have something unique on my hands. It may have worked, too, as it seems I've defied the "Newbie's Guide to Parody Fics" or whatever it was called on SPP.

[Evil Figment]

It's not like SPP-fanfic is a shining beacon of great work.

[A Concerned Solomon]

No, it's not, but it's a good gague of what people think of off the tops of their heads in terms of a flaw or abused cliche.