Thread: For I Have the Power of Triangles!: A Parody of Modern Shipping Fics

Because, man, fuck most shipping fics.

Seeing as how, in my opinion, the general quality of most shipping fics has gone down recently, such as some Advanceshipping fanfics constantly portraying Drew as the villain, Ikarishipping portraying Paul way out of character, and some other needless shit in my opinion that can kind of hold back really good fics from being great. So, I have decided to write this parody of the modern shipping fic, because, let's be honest, a lot of them suck. No, there's not really all that particular reason I have the power of triangles as the name, other than the fact that yes, there are love triangles, and ridiculous ones indeed. Be warned, as there will be out of character moments, much swearing, and probably a hell of a lot of me probably ruining shipping forever for myself. But be warned; if you want a real shipping fic, go read something else, because this sure as hell isn't what you're looking for. This also takes place seven years after the events of the Unova arc. So these people, as far as I'm concerned, are in their mid twenties. Also, this is probably the most offensive thing you'll ever read, ever.

Yes, the first few chapters will be introducing the characters and their entirely different personas. Some of these characters include Drew the Maybe Rapist, Ash the Mentally Challenged Pokemon Trainer, Dawn the Potential Hooker, May the Only Sane Woman, Brock the Quite Possibly Gay Pokemon breeder, and Cilan the Pimp. All of their stories will be told from a first person view. Yes, they eventually will meet up later on, because I want them to, and I really don't give a shit if you don't, so fuck you, dear reader. Unless you like this idea. Then call me, because I need a friend, and I'm pretty damn desperate at this point.

Part I: The Reluctance Begins

Chapter 1 of Part 1: Drew the Maybe Rapist, Maybe Misunderstood Homeless Hippie

The fire consumed trash bin warms my body and soul as I wonder of my past failures. First, I was a Pokemon Coordinator, which I failed miserably at. Apparently bringing knives to the events and stabbing your opponent's Pokemon to death after a particularly long losing streak isn't "legal". But seriously, why should I care what the law thinks? All it's doing is holding me down, man. In fact, I guarantee you that if we didn't have things like the man holding us down, I'd be able to live in a designer card board box from Amazon.com and not the one that I'm using right now from the local Build-A-Bear factory. I'm banned from there too, in case you're wondering, and I'd really rather not talk about why. But, I will say this. Once a man has been homeless for four years, no one tends to want to have sex with him, and those build-a-bears couldn't say no, now could they? Damn right they couldn't.

Then I remembered some special person that I met during my journey of failure and misery. She was such a special person to me, and I would give anything to have her here right now. She was pretty much the only person I've ever seen that I kind of didn't want to rape at all, which was a first. She probably had some damn soft skin, I bet. Probably a lot softer than those prison bedsheets, I bet. She was the only woman I've ever met that didn't commit suicide after I gave her a hug, and mostly because I'd had my HIV shots that day and I wasn't contagious for a four hour period of time.

After she kind of left and went to another region, I took up a drinking habit and joined a club that I originally thought to be a costume club for ghost costumes only, but turned out to be Hoenn's Ku Klux Klan. I was always wondering why there were hardly any black people in Hoenn. I kept my suit though. Made for a nice surprise at my cousin's wedding.
It was also the first time I've ever really had any friends of a sort, so, to be honest, I kind of miss the guys. I remember the first time they went to a Kanto Fried Chicken, and they let me tag along. Turned out, there were only Mexicans in there, so they really didn't have anything much to say other than "stop stealing our jobs and taking our nice uniforms and turning them brown with your disgusting selves." It was kind of odd when we needed a new building and we had to hire those very same Mexicans to come build it for us.

But, back to May. She was probably the best person I've ever met (other than Kenny from the Klan. Cool dude, other than the racism.) that really didn't want me dead after a few hours with me. Man, I loved her. I really wish I knew where she was now. Too bad I can no longer read or write, so if I did know her location, I would have to travel all the way over there, and damn if that doesn't sound like so much work. Now, to be honest with you, I'd probably go to find her anyway, but I really don't want to leave my trash can. The fire I set to it every day and put out with the tears of the orphans whose money I just stole to buy crack with really keeps me warm at night, and I really would miss it if I was gone. But, all good things must come to and end eventually. I now know what I must do. I will hunt down May, and I will find her, and kill her. Wait, that didn't come out right. I'll find her and love her. Damn straight. I will love that bitch. Now to find a GPS, a PokeGear, and maybe some actual Pokemon that I don't use for dog fights...

Huh, interesting. I've long since been of the belief that fan-fiction was spinning its heels without much to contribute.

That being said, however, this parody looks like it's going to be closer in tone to modern parodies like Scary Movie and Epic Movie, and if that's what you want that's fine. It's just that those movies are terrible because they mistake shocking and referencing material for satire. I'm not really sure what the point of this is supposed to be beyond referencing material like the KKK or KFC or HIV. I get that it's supposed to be an extreme lampoon of what goes on in a lot of stories today, but creating a mirror of their fiction through your own words just makes your story a prettier version of their work. I will admit that the writing at least doesn't send me writhing into a fit of rage, as you're obviously skilled enough to use Spell Check (a talent many lack). I was rather hoping for something in the vein of Mel Brooks, as his parodies were able to critique genres and still lovingly poke at their tropes, and maybe this story could be like that, but I don't particularly see any merit in ramping up the shock value and mistaking that for a parody.

Lol this is awesome. I'm glad to find a sort of crack fic here. I lol'd: "Cool dude aside from the racism."

I agree with Power Shot, although in a slightly more enthusiastic manner, I think. I know where you're coming from, with so many out-of-character stories everywhere... If this floats your boat, hey, I believe it's a good way to get it out! I would've been laughing so much if I wrote that. But then, I wasn't going "HULK SMASH"!! XD
@Power Shot, what's another "non-contributing" story? Well, it's well-written (Agreed, no cringing!), and at least there could be some laughs for those who get it. I wouldn't say it lacks contribution, ha. Maybe I just find it more funny though. =]
@Ice Cold Chili Pepper I see the point you're making, and I actually do look forward to more of this. *Chuckles* It's kind of nice to see a story that's meant for the character to be out of character. XD

Originally Posted by Power Shot

Huh, interesting. I've long since been of the belief that fan-fiction was spinning its heels without much to contribute.

That being said, however, this parody looks like it's going to be closer in tone to modern parodies like Scary Movie and Epic Movie, and if that's what you want that's fine. It's just that those movies are terrible because they mistake shocking and referencing material for satire. I'm not really sure what the point of this is supposed to be beyond referencing material like the KKK or KFC or HIV. I get that it's supposed to be an extreme lampoon of what goes on in a lot of stories today, but creating a mirror of their fiction through your own words just makes your story a prettier version of their work. I will admit that the writing at least doesn't send me writhing into a fit of rage, as you're obviously skilled enough to use Spell Check (a talent many lack). I was rather hoping for something in the vein of Mel Brooks, as his parodies were able to critique genres and still lovingly poke at their tropes, and maybe this story could be like that, but I don't particularly see any merit in ramping up the shock value and mistaking that for a parody.

To be honest, Drew is really the only character that I'm going for with that style of comedy. If anything, I'm planning on having each character develop a different kind of comedy for themselves. Drew's happens to be that kind of comedy, and in case you can't tell by his name, he's sort of the villain anyway.

Anyway, I've been working on these chapters lately, so the next chapter should either be up some time tonight or soon tomorrow. I'm actually planning on making the first few chapters about Ash and Cilan, who, for no real reason, are still travelling with each other. I think there are far more opportunities with their characters at this point, and May should probably be introduced some time in the near future.

Originally Posted by SwampertShoes

@Power Shot, what's another "non-contributing" story? Well, it's well-written (Agreed, no cringing!), and at least there could be some laughs for those who get it. I wouldn't say it lacks contribution, ha. Maybe I just find it more funny though. =]

I wouldn't necessarily say that I'm not enthusiastic, just cautious. Again, part of the problem with modern parody is the fact that it often devolves its own argument. Take here, for example. I can clearly see that Drew is meant to be deliberately out of character, but there isn't any statement being made beyond the fact that Drew is outlandishly out of character. Were there not a disclaimer, it would be impossible to distinguish from the fiction that's being emulated. I just sort of wish there was a statement beyond "Look how silly this is."

Chapter Two

My name is Ash Ketchum, and I'm a great success. I keep all of my Pokemon League championship trophies in my room on top of my clothes drawer. Or, that's where I would put them, if I had any.

Yes, my friends, despite winning eight gym badges every year and entering the Pokemon League Championship every year and finishing in the top ten every year, I have yet to win anything other than a little trophy that says "Participant". That is my greatest accomplishment in life. I later pawned it so I could get some gum at a convenience store. The gum didn't even taste good.

Even Pikachu is being affected after all these years of losing and miserable failure. He's contracted Alzheimers, and to be honest, it's actually pretty funny when he's in battle and he forgets what move he's trying to use. That was how I lost my seventh Pokemon League Trophy. But at least that time I got a trophy that said "Nice Try, Loser." But, even though it is quite funny, the novelty of it tends to wear off after a while, because, oh wait, I just lost my seventh Pokemon League Trophy in a row. I'm a failure.

My mother married a Mr. Mime and the two moved away to Hoenn, living in the hood. I believe Mr. Mime is actually pretty successful now, because he's earning some good money. It may require him robbing people and killing every last Pokemon and human that gets in his way, but hey, money is money. It's still more money than I'm making, anyway. My part time job picking up trash on the roads didn't help either, since my boss had short term memory loss and kept forgetting to pay me. It's been a wonderful life.

Brock and Cilan are the two older men I've been travelling with for the past ten years of my life. No, that doesn't imply anything, you sick bastard. Anyway, Brock pretty much gave up on his dreams years ago, leaving his struggling family behind in the process. Did I mention that Brock's a dick and probably an even bigger failure than I am? He's a Pokemon breeder now, but not the kind you'd see at any Pokemon Day Care. He films the process, something he calls "research", which is what Cilan and I call "sick and disgusting". I would also like to know why he's "researching" these tapes every time a woman turns him down. His favorite one is called "Skitty on Wailord", which is something I don't even think is possible, and I really don't want to know how it actually works.

Cilan is, in all reality, pretty much a pimp. He's had multiple girlfriends (this week), and I'm pretty sure Brock has tried to murder him at least twice because of jealousy. Cilan pretty much takes the women, makes them think he loves them, impregnates them, and leaves. I'm pretty sure the guy has enough baby mamas to fill up an entire region's population. He used to be a butler (also known as slave) to some guy, and Cilan maintains the fact that he was in reality, an indentured servant. Did I mention that Cilan is full of shit?

So, on this incredibly average day, Brock, Cilan, and your's truly are walking down an incredibly desolate and lonely road in the middle of Kanto. We've run out of water, and Brock's even resorted to drinking his own piss.

"I saw it once on some TV show called Man VS Wild," He explains.

"Why are you watching some show about a guy who has a helicopter crew with water on standby drink his own urine?" Cilan asks him.

"Hey, Cilan, don't hate. Don't be jealous that I found a way to safely drink my own bodily fluids and not be harmed by them."

"You discovered how to do that years ago, Brock," I snicker. "Just not with urine."

After Brock has filtered his own urine for what seems like the tenth time, we finally happen to see a small town on the horizon. What's odd is, there's a tent set up in the middle of the town, which usually means one of two things. Either, A, the circus is in town, or B, a Pokemon Contest is coming to town. Option A means that we get to watch people who probably escaped from a local asylum perform for us. Option B means that we get to watch people who are probably even worse than we are at Pokemon Battling try to wow judges and crowds for ribbons.

"Look's like there's a contest in town," Cilan says, widening his eyes a bit. Brock didn't seem to notice his comment, as he was too busy pouring his piss into a cup to care.

"Brock, could you stop drinking that stuff?" I beg him. "How do you drink that anyway? Is there some method you have?"

Brock grins a bit. "I just pretend it's lemonade."

Despite the fact that I will never be able to drink lemonade again, we head on towards this town. During the meantime, I decide to start up a conversation with the two.

"Guys, I have an idea." I say, momentarily having a strike of genius.

"What?" Cilan asks me, intrigued. "I surely hope it's better than Brock's idea of drinking his own bodily fluids."

Brock seemed slightly offended at these comments. "Cilan, you and I both know that you consume more "bodily fluids" in a week than I have in my entire lifetime."

Cilan smirked a bit. "Yes, Brock, but those are two entirely different things. So, Ash, what was this genius idea of yours?"

"I was thinking that maybe we could enter the contest."

The two immediately starting laughing, Brock going so far as to roll on the ground in laughter.

"Ash, what's gotten into you?" He said between gasps for air after laughing so long. "You honestly think that, after all these years, we could still come close to winning a Pokemon Contest? Your Pikachu has Alzheimer's, my Mudkip is deaf in one ear, and Cilan... Well, Cilan doesn't even have any Pokemon. He sold them all so he could get prostitutes."

"True." Cilan said, as if he was regretting this questionable decision.

"Cone on," I said, already prepared with a counter-argument. "We need the money, and maybe, with those funds, we could get Cilan a Pokemon, Get your Mudkip a hearing aid, and give Pikachu... Whatever it is they cure Alzheimer's with. Come on, it's not that bad of an idea."

The two seemed to take this into consideration.

"Well," Cilan said, sighing a bit. "It's not as if I have anything better to do. We might as well, if Brock would ever stop drinking his unfiltered urine."

~~~

Originally Posted by Power Shot

I wouldn't necessarily say that I'm not enthusiastic, just cautious. Again, part of the problem with modern parody is the fact that it often devolves its own argument. Take here, for example. I can clearly see that Drew is meant to be deliberately out of character, but there isn't any statement being made beyond the fact that Drew is outlandishly out of character. Were there not a disclaimer, it would be impossible to distinguish from the fiction that's being emulated. I just sort of wish there was a statement beyond "Look how silly this is."

I see. I can understand that. It's just like, not helping, basically? *Chuckles* What kind of statement are you looking for, exactly?
...I think a "mature" prefix for this thread would be appropriate, as well.

I'll add the prefix whenever I get done with this post. Anyway, the next chapter should be up by at least Wednesday, and I'm going to attempt to introduce May and Dawn into the story, whilst (slight spoiler) trying to find a way to make them all meet up in the contest (don't you just hate it when that happens in shipping fics for no apparent reason?) without kind of completely ruining the story (end slight spoiler, you pretentious dick.)

This is beautiful. XD

One of the funniest fics I've read in ages. 'My mother married a Mr. Mime' had me in tears.

Since it only takes me usually a maximum of twenty minutes to brainstorm and draft down these chapters anyway, I figure I might as well continue on with Ash, Brock, and Cilan for a bit and wait to introduce Dawn and May sooner rather than later. After all, truth be told, I have far more ideas for the trio than I do for Dawn and May right now, and I don't want this to suck.

Part 1 of Triangles, Part 1 of Chapter 3

The contest hall was littered with the trash of the multiple homeless people that travelled along with it, attempting to get some scraps of food from the concession stands. The multitude of trainers that were inside of the building were, expectedly, far younger than we were. In fact, if I was one of these trainers, I would probably be clutching my rape whistle pretty close after seeing three fully grown men walking into what is supposedly a sport for the "younger generation". After confirming to the security guards that we weren't pedophiles and were just, in Cilan's words "heterosexual life partners", we were passed entry into the contest hall.

"This place has surely seen better days," I thought aloud. Brock snorted a bit.

"Damn right it has. This place sucks."

"Hey there, kiddos!" Some man in a purple suit with a matching purple afro shouted. He looked in our general direction and added, "And sick freaks!" We weren't too pleased with his comments.

The man lowered his eyes a bit, obviously wondering how we ever got into this contest that was full of young boys and girls just trying to make a name for themselves.

"Speaking of the sick freaks back there, what in the... Okay, I probably shouldn't say that around you kiddos, right?" He caught his mistake and laughed a bit.

"Could you please tell us what the fucking problem is?" I added, with emphasis on the word "fucking" if for no other reason than to anger the man.

"Well, sirs, I have to say this before replying to your... rude comment." He laughed a bit, thinking whatever he was about to say was the joke of the century. "Here in Pewter, we welcome all sexualities, so you men should find yourself right at home!"

"Hetero-sexual life partners!" Cilan yelled at the top of his lungs. I, for one, was sick of having my sexuality questioned.

"All right then, Butt Fuckers Anonymous, calm down." He frowned a bit. "Sorry, kids. Anyway, since we're even now, I think we can go ahead and start the registration for the contest. Would you boys like to start the registrations?"

We groaned a bit and walked toward the man. He had shiny, dark black skin. He must've been the contest judge, because he had a big, shiny badge that said "Judge" on the front. Impressive.

"Name, Pokemon being used, and age, good sirs." He said, his thick, black mustache bouncing up and down as his lips moved. If anyone here was a pedophile, it was obviously this guy.

I stepped up first.

"Ash Ketchum, A Pikachu, and 20 years old. Good sir."

"Sarcastic one, are we?" He questioned. "I'd like to see your Pikachu, sir. Please take it out of it's Pokeball."

I took the ball out of my pocket and set it on the desk. In case you're wondering why Pikachu is in a PokeBall, he has Alzheimers and he really can't remember what he hates and doesn't hate, so it's really easy to put him into it now. That coupled with the fact that he got so damn fat that I needed a shoulder replacement surgery after carrying him on me for so long.

He pressed the button on the center, and out popped the little yellow mouse Pokemon. His red cheeks were glowing with faint electricity, and it was obvious that he was wondering where the fuck he was.

"Pika?" He looked at me while saying this. I believe this is Pokespeak for "Who the hell are you?" He seemed to remember after a bit though, and nodded his head as if to say, "Don't worry bro, I remember." In my mind, Pikachu has a thick ghetto accent, so that's how he talks. Don't judge me.

"Damn, son, this here's a mighty screwed up Pikachu," The judge said. "What in the sam hill is wrong with the thang?"

"He's got Alzheimers," Brock said.

"So did my granddaddy. Know what happened to me grandaddy, Mista Ketchup?" He asked me. I groaned a bit at the obvious mispronunciation of my name.

"Let me guess," I retorted. "He's dead."

"Damn right he is. Tyrone Black the first was a mighty fellow. Strong man, he was, could lift thirty pounds with his left testicle."

"I think we've heard enough about Mr. Black." Cilan said.

"Alright, boy, you done had your turn," Mr. Black said. "Tell your green haired hipster friend back there to get his skinny fat ass up here."

Cilan sent up a silent prayer for assistance and walked up to the judge.

"Name."

"Cilan."

"No last name?"

"Not that I know of."

"Your daddy leave you, son?"

"Shut up."

Mr. Black snickered a bit. "All right then, touchy subject. What Pokemon are you gonna be using, brother Cilan?"

"I'm not your brother, Mr. Black."

"Cilan, brother, everyone is Shauniqua Black's brother in these parts."

"Fine then. I'll be using my..."

Before Cilan could finish, we saw someone about our age walking through the door. It seemed as though it was impossible. I dropped Pikachu in surprise, making him land on his head. This probably didn't do wonders for his memory. This girl had on blue shorts, a green top, a matching bandanna, and odd chestnut brown hair. She had blue eyes that looked kind of like glass cleaner (I should know. Stuff tastes good.). I recognized her almost as soon as she walked in the door. This girl was my old traveling companion, May Maple.

~~~

This chapter is probably a bit shorter than most are going to be, but seeing as how it's 12:30 in the morning and a school night, I don't have time to write any more right now. I'll attempt to post Part 2 of Chapter 3 tomorrow from May and Dawn's (who has yet to appear behind May, and there's a reason for that) perspective.

Okay, so I skimmed through this, and I have just this to say: I honestly don't get what you're trying to do here.

You say that this story parodies shipping fics and the sorry state that they're in. The prologue has Drew being torn emotionally by thinking about May. But besides that, the story afterwards is just a random, heterogeneous mess of gags. I really cannot tell where anything is going. Sometimes, this can be played for humour (as Power Shot mentioned, in movies like Scary Movie), but you just don't seem to be pulling it off here, especially if it deviates from your originally stated purpose.

Originally Posted by Zekurom

Okay, so I skimmed through this, and I have just this to say: I honestly don't get what you're trying to do here.

You say that this story parodies shipping fics and the sorry state that they're in. The prologue has Drew being torn emotionally by thinking about May. But besides that, the story afterwards is just a random, heterogeneous mess of gags. I really cannot tell where anything is going. Sometimes, this can be played for humour (as Power Shot mentioned, in movies like Scary Movie), but you just don't seem to be pulling it off here, especially if it deviates from your originally stated purpose.

With all due respect, I think maybe you should do more than skim through it. I actually have a plot in mind, in case you haven't noticed, and I'm trying to build the groundwork for it early on, whilst mixing in some jokes as well. I can see how you may think that the jokes overshadow the plotline, and I assure you, they're important, but not as important as the plot. This isn't mindless humor with no real substance, you know.

Originally Posted by Ice Cold Chili Pepper

With all due respect, I think maybe you should do more than skim through it. I actually have a plot in mind, in case you haven't noticed, and I'm trying to build the groundwork for it early on, whilst mixing in some jokes as well. I can see how you may think that the jokes overshadow the plotline, and I assure you, they're important, but not as important as the plot. This isn't mindless humor with no real substance, you know.

You're doing it like I used to do, it seems. If you try to read Generation 2021, it's also the same heterogeneous mess of gags in the first few chapters, except in the form of a trainer fic.

I tried reading it more closely (although actually I just skimmed it a second time to see what I missed if anything), and can see that they're entering a contest hall of sorts. That's about all I can pick out. Please do tell if I've missed something. At present, it's about the same level of organization as an episode of Sayonara Zetsubou Sensei. That is to say, there is an overarching progression, but everything takes a detour. This is okay, but the detours they're taking are just a bit unappealing because of all the arbitrary references to things that are "politically incorrect".