Thread: Dinner at Marv's

Dinner at Marv's.
Graded

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Author's Note; I feel the need to own six Wurmple. Since I already have one, I thought it'd be just dandy to go for five more and a Silcoon. Secondly, here in "Dinner at Marv's", Wurmple are small. Like the size of your little finger small, rather than the foot or so tall they are in the anime/game. This is primarily for plot purposes and really, inchworms are small anyways.

Lastly; this isn't a traditional capture story. I think it'd be a reverse capture, since the Pokemon captured certainly isn't a Wurmple or a Silcoon.
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Inside a leafless elm tree, positioned perfectly between the border of a nearby town and a populous forest, was none other than the manliest Wurmple in the entire region. It was a well known fact (among the critters of Eterna Forest) that it was the sheer amount of bottle caps one had collected within a life time which determined an individual's level of masculinity. This meant that no one... not even his brother Steve, had surpassed the level of manliness that belonged to Marv VanHouten.


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It had taken him years to collect the number of bottle caps he had. The first had been one the size of a quarter, lying neatly in the grass near his childhood home. Marv, as well as his older brother and younger sister, had been raised within a fruiting apple tree located near Floaroma Town. Each summer as the ivory petals floated to the ground, his family would watch from the eye of the tree, marveling at the beauty of falling blossoms.

However... one day, instead of enjoying the beauty of the flowers, Marv had noticed something that the other Wurmple of his family had not. There was something shining, reflecting the bright image of the sun towards the insect's home from the ground below. Marv wouldn't have noticed it at all, but once more - Steve had shoved his way to the front of the group to behold the beauty 'first hand'. This left Marv behind his little sister, because pushing girls is wrong. (Though he suspected Steve would have pushed Suzie too - if their parents weren't looking).

And so, it just happened that he was in the right place at the right time to see the glinting metal in the grass below. Slowly, as to avoid being caught, the Wurmple inched closer to the opening, trying his hardest to avoid suspicious looks from his parents. As quiet as he could, he slipped a barbed foot out the opening of the tree and onto the slate like bark. Apple trees are notorious for having smooth, graying bark rather than the coarse wood often spied on other trees. Such bark could really rip a poor bug's feet to oblivion - hence why the apple tree was a much preferred home for insects with many legs. However, they did not come without faults. Being so smooth led to a slick surface more often than not. If one was not careful, they could slip and fall, landing in a rather unfortunate position at the bottom.

Marv took another glance over his shoulder before smirking to himself. If he could just get down the tree without falling, he would be able to check on what was creating all that light! His rounded mouth opened to shoot out a bit of thread. The sticky, white string began to pool on the side of the tree. It held firmly, causing the carnation colored worm to squeal in childish delight. Luckily, no one noticed and Marv went to work doing whatever it was that he was doing. He dipped each of his ten stubby limbs in the String Shot, using the sticky thread as adhesive - allowing him to descend the tree without much trouble.

He was about three feet from the bottom when there was a shout from above.

"HEY! MARV'S DOING SOMETHING HE'S NOT SUPPOSED TO!" The voice of course, belonged to his brother. They had always been rivals. From the very day Marv hatched from his egg, Steve had disliked him.

"I AM NOT," countered Marv. He thought that was a fairly good defense, even if it was only three words.

"ARE TOO!" Steve snarled.

"AM NOT!" Marv screamed.

"I BET YOU'RE DOING SOMETHING BAD! I'M COMING DOWN THERE TO SEE!" And so Steve, despite the protests of his parents and the threat of several whippings, produced his own String Shot (which he found much manlier than Marv's) and descended the tree following the same path of his little brother.

Marv, seeing his sibling coming from practically a mile away, inched as quickly as he could to reach the mystery item at the bottom. He was so close, yet so far. His pointed foot reached out to touch the glowing object. It was so bright; it was almost as if it were the white-hot core of the sun.

DINK.

The soft shell of his foot collided with the mystery shimmer, pushing the object down and out of the angle of the sun. It sunk a bit in the lush grass, revealing what it truly was.

"A bottle cap?" Marv asked, breathless. He had only seen them a few times, most often held by the humans who wandered by the apple trees during the harvest season. Large, burly men with mustaches and suspenders would gather up apples by the barrel and haul them off across the waters to sell in foreign lands. These humans were the ones the two brothers admired the most. They admired the men for their manliness. They exuded pure testosterone and were the secret role models of the Wurmple lads. On many occasions, while taking a break of picking apples, the men would pull out a brewski and pop the tin cap off, usually tossing it in a pile. However, it seemed one had been left behind, and Marv intended to make it his own.

He approached it slowly, eyeing the metal piece with caution. It was truly a beauty. The rippling edge curved delicately around the tin circle. On the top, providing a slight reflection, was an impressive pattern. Two triangles, one of red and one of blue, tangled on the surface; as if engaged in a dance. It was the most beautiful thing Marv had ever seen. It had to be his.

Watching closely, Steve peered down, trying to see what was in his brother's stubby peach arms. Golden eyes flew wide as the older Wurmple leapt from his position. Though he was still two feet from the bottom, Steve was aiming to land on his younger brother. "I KNOW WHAT THAT IS!"

"You can't have it!" Marv cried, throwing the silver stud as far as he could.

"You... You.... YOU MUNCHLAX BUTT!" Steve wailed, trying to scramble off his brother and towards the fallen bottle cap.

"YOU FEEBAS FACE," the other responded, using his worm-like stature to reel up onto his back legs. He lurched foreword, propelling his inch long length through the air. Steve never saw the super worm coming. Marv had used Tackle, pushing his brother to the ground, almost flattening him in the process.

"It's going to be mine," Steve grunted under his brother's weight. He turned sideways, squirming to reach Marv. His small mouth, covered with peach fuzz, opened horizontally before clamping down on the rumpled pink hide of his brother. He had been practicing his Bug Bite lately, after Grandpa Smithy had shown them a particularly effective one during a round of his old war stories.

The Bug Bite had stung, so much so - that Marv decided to retaliate. Even though Steve was clamped to his shoulder, his lower half was free. On the end of his rear were two large spikes. All Wurmple had these yellow stingers, colored so to denote the danger. The poisonous barbs twitched before expelling small purple rods. They buried into Steve's soft underside.

"You Diglett hole!" Steve yelled, finally releasing his grip. Furrowing his brows, he began to methodically pull the small purple spikes from his stomach by the handfuls.

Marv, sensing his chance to reclaim the prize scrambled towards the last place he had thrown it.

"You're not getting away!"

The younger Wurmple turned, looking back at his enraged brother.

"I got you now!" Steve, though still a few inches behind, opened his mouth to produce another String Shot. Perhaps that would hold his ickle brother in place while he claimed the prize.

"Not on your life!" To avoid the String Shot coming his way, Marv had to make a quick leap of faith. He dove like a crazy, rampaging homeless man towards his beloved bottle cap. Just as he reached the peak of his leap, Marv came to a startling revelation. If he used Tackle at just the right moment, it would propel him farther! His hind end glowed with a fierce determination as he soared over the tall blades of grass. Unfortunately, Steve's String Shot didn't miss. Instead, it attached itself to one of the golden twin spikes on his rear.

Though the String Shot was beginning to encase Marv, he still struggled to reach the prize. That day, the God Arceus must have smiled down on him, as he reached the bottle cap before the silk had woven its way completely around his frame. Within his cocoon, he held the tin bottle cap to his chest, feeling the cool metal against his exterior.

"No!" Steve cried, finally free of the poison barbs. He motored to his fallen brother, angrily clawing at the sticky white thread to reach the bottle cap within.

Marv only smiled, releasing his own String Shot.

Steve recoiled in fear, using his stubby hands to try and brush the encroaching thread off.

"Resistance is futile!" Marv yelled in victory.

With both wrapped in massive String Shots, the two brothers lay like mummies in the late summer grass, but that wasn't the end of the battle. They had resorted to frantically Tackling one another in their incapacitated states.

The feuding Wurmple were later broke up by their parents after leaving Suzie in the care of Grandpa Smithy (who did not like to observe the falling blossoms and stayed behind in his room upstairs). The two boys were severely punished, both having been grounded for the following week and being forced to go without supper for the evening. Yet, even though Marv was having a punishment cast upon him, he secretly was glad his parents had let him keep the bottle cap. As both Steve and Marv marched to their rooms, the younger of the Wurmple smirked at his older brother. "It's mine, and it makes me better."

"Shut up, Marv."

"And I'll always be more manly than you. My bottle cap proves it," he taunted.

Steve glared, growling through his teeth. "There is no way you'll ever be manlier than me, and I'll see to it! I'll collect the most bottle caps!"

"In your dreams, maybe," Marv responded. "But I already have one, which means I am winning."

It was then that the rivalry had reached a new level between the siblings. Over the next several years, they had expanded their collecting to other cities and towns. But, even with their furtive competition, Marv had amassed such a rich and varied bottle cap collection; there was no way Steve would ever catch up!


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Placing one of his many hands to his chin, Marv looked out the makeshift window he had. His new home was not like the ol' apple tree. It was a strong elm that was settled near the boarder of Eterna forest and the adjoining city. As Marv returned from his daydream, he glanced out the window and over the vast horizon.

Rather than the brilliant, multi-colored festivals held each spring or the dazzling array of interesting smells that came from the summer carnivals, the Wurmple was treated to the hideous brown decay of leaves while the city began preparations for winter. There was no more hustling and bustling. There were no more heavenly aromas. All the sky scrapers had taken down the streamers and celebrational ads. The humans rushed back and forth between homes, as to avoid the constant cool breeze. It was then that Marv returned to his current situation, rather than continue focusing on the dreary outdoors.

Thanksgiving was approaching rapidly, which meant he would be making a trip back to his old home in Floaroma Town. Every year, mom, dad, Suzie (who still lived at home), Grandpa Smithy and Steve would all gather around the dinning room table and share a meal fit for kings. Suzie would begin with the prayer to Arceus, thanking the Poke God for food while Steve and Marv would kick one another under the table, simply for the sake of sibling rivalry.

Marv sighed, fondly thinking of holidays past. This year, he was planning on making something to take home, perhaps to make Steve look like an inconsiderate son. If he arrived with a peach cobbler and Steve didn't, his mother would be sure to give him extra helpings while his brother stares on in silent jealousy. It was a perfect plan and it was going to be executed when Thanksgiving rolled around. Now however, Marv had to begin the hunt for peaches, as what use was a peach cobbler without peaches?


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The young Wurmple arched his head out the door of his home, quickly looking to and fro for any sort of predator. With nothing in sight but a few black and white birds perched several trees away, Marv turned to lock his door and began the journey to find the mythical fruits for pie making.

"Pachi?"

Marv whipped around to see where the mysterious voice had come from. Instead of the silly birds chattering a few trees away, there stood someone he hadn't seen since summer. Several months ago, he had defended his precious bottle cap collection from this fiendish thief. Now, as an act of revenge, (or so it seemed), it was back and ready to fight.

"DO YOU CHALLENGE MY HONOR AGAIN?" The Wurmple puffed out his chest, briefly tossing the basket for miniature peaches aside. It was not like the manliest Wurmple in the forest to turn down a challenge.

The odd creature, resembling the cross between an electric mouse and albino squirrel, sniffed the air twice before turning tail and scampering off.

"That's right!" Marv called after the fleeting Pachirisu. "You don't want to face me again! I know I'm awesome. NOW YOU DO TOO!"

And so Marv returned to the task of collecting peaches for the Thanksgiving feast.


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A smile instantly crept over Marv's face as he entered the front door of his childhood home. He of course, was looking foreword to rubbing his brother the wrong way - but this smile was one caused by the scent of apple pie and cinnamon wafting through the house. His mother was always a wonderful cook, working with the discarded fruits and rinds of the local flea market.

"I'm home," Marv said, practically waltzing into the living room. The floors were still a polished wood, buffed with Mareep wool. He made his way through the lovely oak hallway and placed the pie he had slaved over on the dining table. Since it was already adorned with a blue plaid tablecloth, he didn't feel the need to place it on any sort of pie-coaster.

"Hello?" Marv questioned, glancing around the home. It seemed everyone was busy, since neither his mother or father had come to the door to greet him. And Suzie? She was probably doing girly make-up things upstairs. The only one left was Grandpa Smithy - since Steve was always late.

"Grandpa," the Wurmple called out. He waited before calling out again to see if there was any indication of where the old Silcoon may be.

"Snore... Snore..." Coming from the adjacent living room, the sound of a snoozing elder drifted in through the open hall.

He quickly scurried into the living room to see the oldest member of the VanHouten family. Marv smiled as he bent down to pet his grandfather on the head. "Hello Grandpa Smithy."

The Silcoon opened his drunken, red eyes. "W-What the hell are you doing? ... ARE WE UNDER ATTACK? MAN THE WINGULL. PREPARE THE X-DEFEND!" The silk-wrapped elder began to flail in his rocking chair.

"What? No, Grandpa," a second Wurmple appeared, descending the stairs. Her blonde hair cascaded behind her as she approached the old man sitting in the corner. "You're being silly, again."

"Hello, Suzie," her brother greeted, kissing her on the forehead in an attempt to embarrass her.

"Stop Marvin," she screamed, pushing away the 'attacker'. "Augh. You know I hate when you do that! I swear to Arceus if you do that one more time..."

"You'll do what?" Marv teased. "Tell on me?"

"No," Suzie responded, smirking. "I'll make mom love Steve more by telling her you were the one who gave Grandpa Smithy a..." she lowered her voice. "Lemonade!"

"You wouldn't," the youngest brother gasped. "That was only ONE time and you thought it was funny too!"

"So? Mom told you to make sure he didn't get any sugar. You know how he gets on sugar."

"Sugar!? Where? Are… are you youngin's holdin' out on yer ol' grandpa?" Instead of being the crotchety old man he usually was, the Silcoon wiggled his eyebrows up and down and attempted to trick the grandchildren into giving him one of life's greatest substances.

"No sugar for you!" Suzie laughed, turning her back on the old man.

"Wha-" Grandpa Smithy furrowed his brows in anger. "When I was your age, we respected our elders! When they wanted something, we would say, 'Yes. Thank you for the opportunity to serve you.' Back then, we had manners an-"

"Let's go get mom and dad," Suzie suggested.

Rolling his eyes at his grandfather, Marv agreed. "Wonderful idea."

Suzie began to inch towards the stairs with her brother in tow when the door suddenly burst open.

"Your favorite son is here," a sing-song voice rang through the house.

"I know I'm already here… because I come at the requested time," Marv returned Steve’s melodic entry with a condescending one of his own.

"What's this?" a voice from the kitchen called. "Is my darling Marv home for the holidays?"

"Yes, mother," the Wurmple responded. His grin was undoubtedly because of his brother's painful expression.

"Oh that's wonderful! I've got you a present! I've been saving it for a while..." Marion shuffled around the island stove to reach in the side cabinet. She peeked down, letting her graying hair press against her bright yellow apron. Her tender, circular hands grabbed at the present before joining her family in the living room.

"Mother! I'm here too!" Steve whined, stamping three feet on the ground like a child.

"Oh Steve, darling! It's nice of you to show up on time!" She smiled before wrapping two pairs of yellow suction cups around her oldest child. "And my, what a mustache!"

This time, it was Steve's turn to gloat. "Why thank you for noticing. I tried t-"

"And Marv! Oh, I missed you so much!" Marion interrupted. "Here's that present I've been saving for you."

"Hm?" Marv peered around his mother's back to see what she had been hiding. "Is that a...?"

"Yes," she cried out gleefully. "It's a bottle cap your father and I found while taking one of our evening strolls."

"You've got to be kidding me," Steve grumbled. "Mother! I collect bottle caps too!"

Marion looked down, trying to avoid her first son's gaze. "Oh well... I know dear, but it's Marv's 'thing'. Besides, he is always looking for more to add to his massive collection."

"SO AM I," he roared. "I'm only fifty three behind Marv. I don't know why you can't see that I'm good at it too - PLUS I have a mustache! That's like fifty bottle caps!"

"Hardly," Marv responded. "It's more like five - ten if you're counting the cheap red-star ones."

"Wha-I'm going to kill you, you Snubbull face!"

"Boys, boys," Suzie chimed in. "If you keep making all this racket, dad will come and you know how he is at family functions."

Instantly, both boys turned to stone in lieu of attracting attention. However, it was too late. From the secluded study farther down the hallway, Donald VanHouten threw down his newspaper. The furrowed brows and the inkling of sweat gathered at his temple proved it was go time!

"BOYS. BOYS," Donald was scurrying down the hall in a rapid pace. In one hand, he held a miniature video camera. In the other was a list of family activities to be performed at a specified time throughout the rest of the day. "I'M SO GLAD YOU'RE HERE!"

"Aw, no need to shout, dad," Steve moaned, trying to cover his ears.

"But I'm so excited! Now we can get to all the things on my list! First up, we need to go carve the family turkey! I have been waiting since last year to get in some bonding time with my full-grown sons! Oh I just can't wai-"

"Donald," Marion interrupted.

"What?" He responded, clearly upset that he was cut off.

"I ... mmmmm," she whispered.

"What was that?" her husband asked.

"I carvmmmm..."

"... What? I can't quite hear you."

"I ALREADY CARVED THE TURKEY," she shouted, quickly hiding her face in her hands from embarrassment.

Suzie, Steve and Marv decided this was the best time to fly under the radar. The only motion they dare make was an open jaw - mainly from shock.

"You... you did what?" Donald said in a grave tone.

"Well, I was expecting Steve to be late, so I thought we'd be more… well-prepared this year," she tried to explain, rubbing her hands in a worried manner.

"Aw Marion," the head of the family whined. "This was my last chance of bonding with my sons over a feast! A manly feast! I won't be able to carve the seasonal turkey anymore because of my arthritis..."

"Oh Arceus, dad!" Marv cried. "Talk about dramatic!"

"Come on! You two owe me before I'm too old and sent to a nursing home!"

"Whoa, whoa!" Grandpa Smithy yelled. "I ain't goin' to no nursery home! Ya'll can't make me. I'm a war veteran! I deserve respect and adoration and-"

"Dad, we weren't suggesting that," Donald said, trying to comfort his father.

"YA'LL CAN'T TAKE ME ALIVE," the Silcoon yelled, now flailing about. Several objects on the near-by table fell to the ground and shattered.

"Enough, enough," Marion sighed, inching her way past her children. She purposely ignored the broken trinkets as to not cause another scene as well as to take the pressure off herself. "Time for dinner."

"Dinner? It's six-o-clock! Dinner shoulda been three hours ago!" Grandpa Smithy groaned after finally calming down.

"Come on, dad," Donald sighed, simply positioning himself behind his father in an attempt to push him towards the kitchen.

The family of five made their way to the dining table where a grand feast was set out. Over the plaid tablecloth was a wide array of food, ranging from sweet Cheri berry jam to the wing of a small, discarded turkey. Although it was just the wing, it still took three fourths of the VanHouten dining table.

"Looks delicious," Steve commented, letting the sweet aromas entice him further. "Who made this peach cobbler thing? Suzie?"

"Oh ho, brother! I made it!" Marv smirked. "Glad to know I'm super awesome at something else."

"...I'm going to kill you," Steve said in a very monotone voice.

"Enough," Suzie sighed, sitting down at the well-prepared table. "You guys act like children."

Both Donald and Marion had to stifle a laugh at the expense of their male offspring while they found open seats around the table. Choosing the chairs closest to the sun lit window, they sat with smiling faces opposite their children.

"Yeah, Suze. You're just hilarious," was the simultaneous response from Marv and Steve. It seemed although the hatred between the boys only grew as the years passed, they were still brothers all the same.

"Suzie dear," Marion began. "Would you like to say grace before the meal?"

There was only silence at the table, causing everyone to murmur gently about why the youngest Wurmple wasn't saying anything.

Concerned in part of his sister's silence, Marv asked, "Yo Suze, what's wrong?"

"Oh. My. Arceus," Suzie whispered, using her fork to point at the adjacent window.

"What in the world?" Donald whipped around just in time to see two intruders perched on the windowsill. They chattered furiously to one another, occasionally using spiked tails to tap at the feeble glass. It seemed they were on a search for food, coupled with a glare of revenge on Marv Van Houten.

"He's back," Marv spat, narrowing his eyes at the foreign Pokemon.

"Who's back?" His mother turned to glare at her son, with a mixture of fear and suspicion.

"He is, and it looks like he has a friend."

"What do you mean, HE? FRIEND? MARV! I... What are they doing h-YAH!" Marion, who was seated closest to the window screamed. One of the fuzzy stripped tails knocked hard enough to blow the glass inward. Shards flew in all directions, many landing in the grand feast.

"Marion!" Donald cried, rushing to the side of his fallen lover.

To launch a retaliation, Marv jumped to his numerous feet while simultaneously shoving his chair to the wayside. He puckered his round lips to produce a thick string, which flew over the dinning table and attached itself to the wall. As soon as it stuck, the Wurmple began to run back and forth, draping rows of the String Shot over the broken window.

"What are you doing?" Steve yelled, trying to push Suzie upstairs. "If you haven't noticed, NOW IS NOT THE TIME TO FIX THE WINDOW!"

"He's not trying to fix it," Suzie gasped. "He's trying to keep those nasty things out of our house!"

Strand after strand, the hole closed off the dinning room from the rabid Pachirisu, not only providing a fix for the antique window, but a line of defense for the VanHouten family. Eventually, the sticky thread covered the gaping area and all was silent. Each Wurmple held their breath, wondering in silence if the intruders were gone. When no sign appeared to indicate danger, they relaxed and began to resume their positions around the table.

"Well, that's settled." Donald stood, brushing off imaginary dirt from his white shirt. Marion, who had been abandoned by Donald so he could stand and take charge once again, finally looked up from her previous position of hiding in her apron.

“That was close,” sighed Suzie.

“No kidding,” Steve agreed, trying to stand all the chairs on four legs.

Donald smiled. “Let’s just return to dinner, shall we? I’ll get to fixing the window tomorrow when all the hardware stores open.”

Both sons agreed, nodding while the women began to pick shards of cheap glass from the food.

“So is dinner ready yet?” The eldest member of the family grunted, finally waking from his nap. It seemed even the commotion of a break-in couldn't penetrate old war dreams.

"Yeah, yeah Dad. It's all fine now..." Donald sighed, grabbing his fork and knife to cut his father's turkey. "You're welcome to eat up now."

"Well it's about time," the old man huffed, watching his food be cut for him. "Back in my day, we ate at four o'clock sharp. Back then, it was early to bed, early to rise, so we went to bed at five and woke up at five so those damn birds wouldn't get at us. They thought they could wake up early... HA! Did I ever tell you youngin's about that time a Swellow tried to eat your late grandma, Wendy? Oh boy! You shoulda seen her face! She was all; NO! I AIN'T GONNA LET YOU BE EATIN' ME, YOU SEED SPITTIN' SON OF A-"

"Grandpa Smithy!" Marion gasped, placing a small hand over her mouth. "Don't you dare use that sort of language in front of my children at my table!"

"Pfft!" the Silcoon spat. "Back in my day, we could say whatever we wanted to whomever we wanted! If only I coul-" Before the old man could finish complaining, a startled scream split through the dinning room. Suzie had let out a hideous yell, causing those in the immediate area to flinch.

"What now?" Steve asked, looking back and forth to find the cause of the terror. "Suze... I don't see anythi-"

"Any what?" Marv ventured, trying to see where Steve was going with his questioning. He was just about to prod again when slight tearing sounds echoed through the small kitchen. The entire lot turned to face the covered window, only to be greeted with a terrifying sight. Large ivory teeth the size of human fingernails were eating rapidly through the dried string.

"What do we do!?" Cried Suzie, clutching onto her mother.

Marion squirmed, holding her daughter closer. She couldn't answer, as the sight before her was too frightening.

Slowly, from behind the loosening thread, the pair of Pachirisu were revealed. They looked quite a bit more irritated than they had before.

"Pachi," the blue squirrel chirped.

"Risu," the purple one finished. Each one had a deep scowl on their generally jolly faces.

The Pokemon stood in a standoff, a standoff one might find in an old western. All was silent, only the breeze whispering, 'hello' from outside. No one dared make a move, until the oddly discolored purple Pachirisu dove towards the turkey on the table. Seeing his partner move, the blue Pachirisu leaped in the air to cover him. An electrical pulse bounded from the small squirrel body, expanding to cover the room. The Discharge pushed the VanHouten family back, similar to an invisible expanding bubble.

"Argh!" Donald cried out, desperately trying to move his rounded hands. "I'm paralyzed! Steve, cover Suzie and your mother!"

Steve nodded, shaking off the electric attack and proceeding to inch towards the female members of his family.

Marv, on the other hand, tried to formulate a plan. They needed a double K.O. and fast! This meant of course, that the two squirrels had to be in the same area... But how? The only things Pachirisu liked were food and-"Steve!"

Steve whipped around, halting in pursuit of his goal. His moustache waving proudly in the breeze, he shouted, "What is it, Marv? I'm kinda busy!"

Marv groaned. "I have a plan, but...." He swallowed, not wanting to say the rest of the sentence. "I... I'll need your help."

Steve's face dropped, not believing what he had heard. Had his brother really asked for help? The confusion was only momentary, since the pride had begun to swell ever since the word 'your' was muttered. "My help? Oh ho ho ho. You'll never live this down!"

The other Wurmple brother sighed, placing a small hand on his forehead. "I know. Just... I need to use your moustache."

"MY WHAT?" Steve yelled, aghast someone would ever suggest such a thing.

"I just... I need it," Marv stuttered, scurrying around the chaos. He was in the midst of looking for the bottle cap his mother had given him earlier. He had a wonderful plan, but it'd take precise planning and of course, Steve's participation.

"No, it's all I ha;gkl;lk-" Steve's speech became garbled as he was tackled by none other than the blue Pachirisu. The squirrel chattered before slamming his head against the tiny worm, knocking him off balance.

Marv rose up on his hind quarter, pulling the muscles within his frame on edge. Building up energy, he paused, eyeing the target briefly before launching a mid-air assault. As he tumbled through the air, he sprayed a thick String Shot along the ground in a concentrated circle around the blue Pachirisu.

Blue glared angrily at the Wurmple's actions. Testing the waters, the Pachirisu reached out to touch the sticky mess. Instantly, the adhesive bound to the white, furry paw and caught the Pokemon there without much hassle. "Pachi!"

Marv smiled at his handiwork as he joined Steve on the other side of the room. "Now, I need your moustache."

"Are you on PPUps?" Steve questioned, glaring at his brother. "One, I'm never going to give you my fine moustache. Two, what in the world would you even need it for?"

"Look, it's for a very intricate plan. I need to use it as a lure t-"

"A LURE?" Steve yelled, waving his hands around. This however, caused unwanted attraction. The purple Pachirisu that was focusing on Donald, Marion and Susie dropped its pursuit of food and quickly turned attention to the flailing mustachioed Wurmple.

"Steve, if I attach it to the bottle cap mom got me, then we can use it to lure the other one into the circle and then have everyone use String Shot to bundle them up!" Marv sighed, attempting to explain his plan.

"This is ludicrous. I'm not giving up my moustache as a make-shift fishing pole. You can just sacrifice the bottle cap," the Wurmple brother sneered. "It's not like you don't have more at home."

Marv sighed, trying to deal with his brother's stubborn nature. How in the world was he going to deal with Steve, let alone two rabid Pachirisu? However, his time to think was cut short as Purple bound towards him, running on all fours in a rapid Quick Attack.

Donald, still paralyzed, was being assisted by Marion, who was frantically brushing off the static that bound her dear husband. Suzie, who was now left in the care of Grandpa Smithy, was searching for some way to help. She glanced to her brothers, who were now dueling the Pachirisu two on two.

"Grandpa! I have an idea," Suzie whispered, edging closer to the Silcoon. "You always used to brag about your Poison Sting in the war, right? Well, if you spray a wall of poison needles at a fast enough speed, you can make a sort of fence, guiding the purple one to the blue one!"

"But how am I gonna go fast, girly?" the Silcoon questioned, trying to follow his granddaughter's plan.

"I'll use a Tackle on you, and you'll go flying, spinning....You know!" she said excitedly. "Then you can direct the needles in a path and lead the weird colored Pachirisu into the circle!"

"Well, if ya think it'll work," the old Pokemon said wearily. He lined up at the charging Pachirisu, while Suzie readied herself behind him. She backed up slightly, before running at a full charge, pushing her grandfather into the air and launching him like a missile.

The ornery Silcoon flew through the living room, reliving his days as a fighter pilot. From the barbs on his silken casing, bright violet needles struck the ground below in a serpentine fence.

The shiny Pachirisu halted his charge, confused by the new surroundings. Blue chattered something to the other, who seemed to understand. Purple then stood on both hind legs and began to swish the bushy squirrel tail he possessed back and forth. Miniature stars swamped the area, striking against the poisoned needles like flint on stone.

"Oh Mamoswine dung," Marv moaned, shoving his brother out of the way of the Swift. He however, was hit full force with a magical star and tumbled head over heel before bumping into the coffee table. A small yellow nub rubbed the back of his head. The damage didn't seem too serious, but now that the purple Pachirisu was standing still and Grandpa Smithy looking a bit ill from his 'flight', his plan seemed more important than ever.

The small Wurmple got to his feet and ran to his brother. Without warning, Marv yanked at his brother's moustache clear off. In his round hands, he held what looked like a hairy bow. Even though it was only hair, it held the same shape as it had on Steve's face. He ruffled it, stretching the moustache into a long, Fu Manchu capable of becoming a rope. Marv proceeded to cover one end with a thin, white mess before attaching the other to the bottle cap his mother had given him earlier that day. Using the moustache as a makeshift lasso, he began to swing the bottle cap over his head like a cowboy. "Yee-haw!"

With a 'clink', the bottle cap landed in the middle of the circle created earlier. Blue stopped chittering and struggling to look at the new, shiny object. And being such a shiny, beautiful object, Purple stopped his assault and cautiously approached the bottle cap. One foot in front of the other, he scooted closer to the object, all while keeping his eyes on the family of Wurmple. That was his mistake. Because the shiny Pachirisu took his eyes off the floor, he didn't notice his rabbit-like foot stepping in the adhesive. He too, was now stuck.

Marv pulled the on the moustache rope, retrieving the precious bottle cap. It was at this point that the Pachirisu realized they had both fallen into a trap - and they started struggling, chirping as loudly as they could.

"We need to trap them now," Steve said quietly, still down laden about his loss.

"Suze! Come help us," Marv begged urgently. He motioned with stubby hands in a circular motion. They were going to make sure the two thieves didn't get away! The trio positioned themselves around the Pachirisu, spaced out fairly evenly. It's then they started to String Shot the intruders, all focusing at the pinnacle of their heads. The Wurmple moved gracefully around the circle, almost as if the process was a May Pole dance. Inch by inch, Blue and Purple were mummified from the thread shooting insects.

The two Pachirisu struggled within the awful entanglement. Yet, each time they struggled to get out, the String Shot bound to the albino fur with no intent of letting go. Struggling was useless, and even the attempted Super Fangs were in vain. The combined effort of three Wurmple and a Silcoon were too much for the electric Pokemon.

"Now what do we do with them?" Suzie asked, turning her head to look at the prisoners.

"Just get them out of my house!" Marion cried as she and Donald joined the rest of the family.

"Not a problem, ma," Marv smiled, picking up a spare thread of String Shot and dragging the duo behind him. Steve followed up the rear, nudging the cocoon with his foot while longingly stroking his absent moustache. As the brothers pushed the duo outside, Marv turned to Steve.

"It'll be alright. It'll grow back, bro."

"But it was mine and I loved it," Steve murmured, tears welling in his large, plate-like eyes.

Marv smiled sadly. He might have a deep, imbedded rivalry with the Wurmple standing before him, but he was also his brother. "I... I have an idea."

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

The two entered the home again, rejoining the family they had left behind. Steve now had a wilted mass of hair stuck to his face with a messy String Shot. Although it looked petrifying, no one said a word in lieu of the honorable death the moustache died.

"Well," Donald sighed, finally surveying the destroyed VanHouten dining room. "If we can't eat, we might as well move on to the next activity."

The whole family groaned in unison.

"Come on now, ya'll," Donald said, rounding his family up like a herd of cattle. "Time for a family photo."

"Come on, dad. This is stupid!" Steve protested, slamming a little yellow foot to the floor.

"Yeah, totally," Marv agreed. "We just finished a huge battle! Do we really have to take a lame photo?"

"Yer son has a good head on his shoulders!" Grandpa Smithy chimed in. "This idea of yers is stupid. Those darn ideas must come from yer mother's side of the family."

"Enough dad," Donald glared as the rest of the family gathered in the hall. He pulled a camera and mini-stand from what seemed like thin-air before setting it up in haste. With a click of the nearest button, the older Wurmple scurried from behind the set-up to join his family for a picture. "Everyone say - PokeBlock!"

1... 2... 3... FLASH!




The End


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End Note; Who doesn't love Wurmple? I know I do. :D

I never knew how difficult it was to write several Pokemon in battle who know such a limited move pool. Now I do.

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Pokemon Attempted; Wurmple, Wurmple, Wurmple, Wurmple, Wurmple and Silcoon.
20 - 35k Character Range.
(Wurmple; 3 - 5k each. Silcoon; 5 - 10k).
Character Count (Without Spaces); 31,062
Character Count (With Spaces); 37,719
((All character counts do not include Author's Notes or Divider Bars.))
Graded.

Claiming cause i got a good feeling about this one

Sorry about being late. I needed to prepare for a job interview today (still won’t know if I got it until three-four weeks from now).

Intro
My first impressions of the story on a whole.

So, five Wurmple and a Silcoon hmmm... Since you’re going for multi-captures, I’ll have to grade you at a tougher level. I usually do it by what the totally range translates to. So, this one would be hard and some change, which means I get to be super meticulous.

Plot/Reality
What stuck out in my mind as I was reading as unusual.

The plot was interesting enough. The whole Pachirisu intro seemed… not subtle at all. Though it seemed random and funny at the time, it seemed like comic relief and just adding to how manly Marv was. It distracted me just enough for me to mention it.

Also, I don’t understand why it was necessary to use Steve’s moustache to make a rope, since it was attached to String Shot anyways.

Overall, I feel that the Pachirisu incident where it tried to steal the collection could be expanded. Because, one, it seems like a Wurmple, even a manly one, would have difficultly battling one, gauged by the later battle.


Details:
What kind of picture did you paint with your words.

You did a great job utilizing the limited move pool of Wurmple differently, describing each particular use in a non-repetitive way.

However, I had some problems with the sizing. Firstly, you state that Wurmple in your story are an inch long. Pachirisu are a foot long, so it seemed like it would be hard for it to fit in a window scaled down to your Wurmple size. I say scaled down, because it seems like all of the furniture and the stove is the proper size relative to the Wurmple.

Also, what Pokémon are they eating, because right now it seems like a baby Torchic would be the only Pokémon small enough.

Lastly, you’re story is called “Dinner at Marv’s” but don’t they have Thanksgiving Dinner at his parent’s house? That’s kind of a big deal, because the title doesn’t really mesh with the story.


Grammar:
What your high school english teacher would point out.

Your grammar overall is good. Here are the sections you need to improve on. I’m spelling them out more since you are a more experienced writer.

”Well-known” versus “well known”

In the first paragraph, you use “well known;” however, in the context of the sentence, you’re trying to describe a noun (fact), so you would use a hyphen to denote “well-known” as an adjective, as without the hyphen, it reads as an adverb and verb.

Along with this, you have a few more words that can be conjoined by a hyphen which would help add to the description you are trying to convey (such as slate-like and carnation-colored). You seem to do this later in the story though.

Parentheses and punctuation

(Though he suspected Steve would have pushed Suzie too – if their parents weren’t looking).

In this particular quote, you have the period outside the parenthesis. When a complete sentence is within the parenthesis, periods go inside the parentheses as well.

Now, as an act of revenge, (or so it seemed), it was back and ready to fight.

For this instance, you don’t need to use both commas and parentheses. The second comma is still correct as it separates the dependent and independent clauses, but the comma before the parenthesis is unnecessary, since the parenthesis works as a break.

Commas

Luckily, no one noticed and Marv went to work doing whatever it was that he was doing.

Interjection

The voice of course, belonged to his brother.

This occurs a few times. When interjecting a phrase like “of course” in the middle of a sentence, you should put a comma before and after the phrase.

He too, was now stuck.

Too isn’t an interjection and the comma seems like an odd break in this sentence. So remove it.

Wrong word:

You have a few instances where you used the improper word. I tried looking to see if there was a UK/US difference, but in these cases, there isn’t, plus your Location states that you are from Michigan.

Foreword versus Forward

You try to use “foreword” (preface or an introductory note) as “forward” (onward, ahead) multiple times in the story, which is the wrong word.

boarder versus border

It was a strong elm that was settled near the boarder of Eterna forest and the adjoining city.

A boarder is a person who pays for meals and lodging, while a border is the edge between two places.

Dinning versus Dining

Dinning is the –ing version of the verb “din” which means to ding or strike with confused or clanging sounds, which isn’t what you meant; I’m sure.

Neither nor

It seemed everyone was busy, since neither his mother or father had come to the door to greet him.

“Either” and “or” go together while neither “and” nor “go” together.


Salutations and Addressing People

"Hello Grandpa Smithy ."

Despite being used often, the absence of the comma is still incorrect. I’m not going to take points off; I’m just sad about what’s happening to grammar :( .

"Stop Marvin," she screamed[…]

You see how not having a comma here can make it seem like she wants someone to stop Marvin from doing something, instead of directly talking to Marv.


Dialogue Tags

"No," Suzie responded, smirking. "I'll make mom love Steve more by telling her you were the one who gave Grandpa Smithy a..." she lowered her voice. "Lemonade!"

When it comes to dialogue tags, you use commas if the verb of the tag is acting upon the dialogue, like the first part of the quote. However, the subject “she” is lowering her voice, not the dialogue. In addition, you shouldn’t have more than one dialogue tag in a paragraph.

A good rule of thumb is that if it seems improbable for the verb to act upon the dialogue, don’t use a comma. Don’t gasp, sight, smile or smirk a sentence, as they either use up the mouth to complete the function, or not involve the mouth at all.

This happens a few times.

"Suzie dear," Marion began. "Would you like to say grace before the meal?"

Usually when a single sentence is split by a dialogue tag, it is continued after it. Here, for example, Marion says “Suzie dear, would you like to say grace before the meal?” It would be better, then, in the above to structure as such: “Suze dear,” Marion began, “would you like to say grace before the meal?”


Collective nouns

Slowly, from behind the loosening thread, the pair of Pachirisu were revealed.

“Pair” is a collective noun, such as team or group. The verb that goes with collective nouns such as these is the singular, so “were” should be “was.”

fgpnsd;asdwel;

"No, it's all I ha;gkl;lk-" Steve's speech became garbled as he was tackled by none other than the blue Pachirisu.

This is just a comment, but I don’t understand what a semi-colon would sound like garbled. You could achieve the effect without the punctuation.

Lastly: It is referred to as a “Maypole” not two separate words.


Length:
The length of time it felt like to read this story.

You met the CC, and the story wasn’t that difficult of a read, which is good.


Personal Feelings:
Really? I have these?

I liked it. Though for a while, I was like, “where is the climax?” And then when Blue and Purple came, I was like, finally. I think that if you stress the first encounter would Blue, it would flow better. This is because I took that as comic relief at first, so I thought it wasn’t important.

Conclusion:
One Liner Wrap Ups

Plot/Reality: Dinner at Marv’s… Parents
Details: Relative size matters, cause that’s one big squirrel they fighting in their kitchen.
Grammar: Lots of little things.
Length: Good.


Verdict:

Marv:
Steve: Not Captured
Suzie:
Marion:
Donald:
Grandpa Smithy:

Just Kidding

Steve:

He just wasn't manly enough to be captured with the rest of them.

Your plot only had two minor issues; your detail was at a good level for hard mons despite the size issue; and your grammar mistakes were large in category but small in offenses of each. Added up, you didn't take too big a hit that I would have requested an edit for you to catch the last mons. Just watch out for your grammar, look over it a few times before posting and expand on when Blue is first shown to give a more significant feeling around him, so the climax isn't as random.