The dull drone of the garbage truck went on for miles. It was far too early in the morning, though several residents who heard the noise. Most, however, must have been heavy sleepers, for they kept on snoozing, still dreaming of jumping Mareep at 5 in the morning. The garbage man was indifferent to the drone, for he was far too used to it.
His name is Jarret Tihms. At an early age, he would swiftly wake in the morn to see the sun rise. Every morning, he could expect two things to happen: One being the imminent rise of the searing ball of gas in the center of our solar system, the other belonging to the sound of the garbage man’s truck. He would be in awe as he heard the blissful drone and watched the simultaneous sunrise. This was probably why the pudgy child aspired to become the garbage man. He could tolerate the smell, that was easy. He simply just wanted to be a part of the dream. Jarret Tihms wanted to wake up to that exclusively delightful drone.
And so he did. He was about 30 years old, but no one could tell. Jarret wouldn’t really talk to many people, outside of the usual greetings from the seniors, coincidentally waking up when the garbage was to be taken away. He would say a simple hello and goodbye, maybe a wave of his chubby hand if he were feeling exceptionally happy. Yes, he did love his job.
This morning, however, would be a little different for him. He woke up at 4:30 a.m. and went to get ready. He didn’t shower much; after all, being around garbage all day would give you an almost permanent smell. Why bother if it won’t come out? He placed his cap on his head as usual, attempting to hide his prematurely thinning hair. He went into the closet and retrieve his extra-large work shirt. It read “Castelia Garbage Dept.”, one of the companies he loved most. His chubby arms slid tightly through the arm holes. He looked at the clock. It was almost 5 a.m.! He couldn’t afford to be late. Not because of being fired, but because he would have to live with the guilt. He crashed out the door and sprinted to the truck in his driveway, his glasses bobbing loosely on his nose.
Bam! He slammed into the door. He wasn’t expecting to be going this fast, especially for his size. No matter, he thought, as he climbed into the driver’s seat. He reached for the keys in his pocket and turned the ignition. Vrooo vrooo vroom! The garbage truck started with relative ease in the summer heat. Winter was absolutely dreadful in Castelia for all vehicles, the truck being no different. It would roll easily around on the thin sheets of ice. Jarret almost crashed into a home once had it not been for a passing by trainer’s Tangrowth.
But, alas, it was summer time, and everything seemed perfect today. Jarret looked for his map, his hefty arms flailing about. Reaching for the glove department, he bumped the radio, turning it on instantly. He never really listened to it much, as the sounds of nature were enough to keep him satisfied for the day. He found the map, but the radio stopped him from leaving as sudden as he hoped. The news was on, and what it had to say was quite shocking to Jarret.
“Hello, if you are just tuning in, we would like to inform you, the people of Castelia, to return home immediately. There are currently swarms of rock Pokemon attacking the city. Various Pokemon are battling in the streets and it is not advised for anyone to go outside. The authorities are trying to keep things under control. They do not know what is causing the disturbances. The police-“ Jarret flicked off the radio.
“The authorities won’t do anything. Those fools barely know how to battle.” He revved up his pale green and rusting garbage truck and sailed off, the hollow inside clunking with every bump. He reached down to his pocket and pulled out a Poke-ball. It wasn’t unusual to garbage men to have Pokemon; you never know what might bump into you while collecting garbage.
It wasn’t long before he saw something he didn’t enjoy. Smack dab in the middle of a street, a Roggenrola was abusing a Sewaddle, snickering as the poor bug was trying to keep up. The street was silent, the wind blew only a bit, and every business door was closed. For every two Rock Blasts the Roggenrola sent, the Sewaddle would only fire a single String Shot, most of them missing the boulder Pokemon entirely. Jarret stopped his truck, but didn’t immediately get out. He wanted to see what the Sewaddle could do.
The bug Pokemon quite frankly had enough of the Roggenrola’s antics, and fired multiple Razor Leafs at it. The thin air was sliced as they shot towards the middle of the enemy. Swish! The Roggenrola rolled left and dodged the sharp leaves. It stood up and once again snickered. Its body shone multiple times as it used a Rock Polish attack, making it unbelievably fast. The Sewaddle froze at that instant, for it knew what was coming. The leaf on its head withered and drooped in dread.
Schwing! The Roggenrola dropped to the ground and rolled fiercely toward Sewaddle. Bam! The lightning fast rock struck Sewaddle head on. It could barely get up, but when it did, it was met with another Rollout attack. Bam! The poor bug was being demolished as the Roggenrola was beating it down. They both knew that the bug didn’t have much time. As a last ditch effort, the bug shot once more at the rock with String Shot. Success! It covered the Roggenrola, making it a tad bit slower. Yet, it wasn’t enough. The Rollout kept happening, it kept going at the Sewaddle. Bam! With more force than the last time, it sent the Sewaddle flailing through the air before landing on the ground.
Jarret had enough of this. He clambered out of the truck, Poke-ball in hand.
“Hey, you pest!” He called out to the Roggenrola. The still shimmering Pokemon looked at the pudgy, greasy man in front of him. “You ready for a fight?”
The wild Pokemon was more than eager to battle. Jarret didn’t hesitate to send out his Pokemon.
“Here’s to you, Garbodor!” Suddenly, a flash of light popped out of the ball. The iconic Garbage Pokemon was released, just raring to go. “Use Earthquake!” Garbodor nodded in agreement.
Jarret had met Garbodor a long time ago, when it was simply a Trubbish. He was doing what he did best: taking out the trash, when he found the little guy. It looked like someone had shoved him into the garbage can, perhaps it was because the owner didn't like him, or even maybe they were so old they assumed Trubbish was trash. You can never tell with that bad of vision. Jarret loved Pokemon, so he couldn't bear to see the little Trubbish left alone. How ironic was it that the only person who didn't throw out Trubbish was the garbage man?
Roggenrola was surprised. It honestly didn’t know what to do. Rollout? Rock Blast? It was starting to panic. It was too late, however, as Garbodor smashed the pavement. The loud crunch of ground engulfed the wild rock. It was still standing, however, thanks to its sturdiness. Without a sound, it once more used Rollout.
Garbodor stood there, bracing itself for the attack. Glomp! The Roggenrola hit Garbodor, but not in the way, nor as effective, as it had planned. The Roggenrola was helplessly stuck in the sludge that was Garbodor's body.
“Alright, Garbodor, shoot him to the ground!” Jarret exclaimed. Smash! Both Pokemon and trainer heard the satisfying smash of rock to pavement. Jarret recalled Garbodor to its Poke-ball. He had seen enough.
Jarret didn't enjoy hurting the Roggenrola. He assumed it must have been somewhat confused, following its pack to the city. He walked over to the little rock and turned it over. Yes, it was definitely fainted. Jarret smiled, with a hint of sadness. Maybe he and Garbodor were too rough. He picked up the Roggenrola and held it in his arms. He then proceeded to where the Sewaddle layed. He knelt down and examined the bug. It was also fainted.
Jarret felt like crying, but he had to be strong. He picked up the Sewaddle and held it in his arms as well. He took the two Pokemon back to his truck and gently lied the Pokemon on to the passenger's seat. He slowly opened up the glove box and retrieved two empty Poke-balls. He didn't know if this was the right thing to do, to keep these Pokemon in captivity, but he had to help them somehow.
He extended the Poke-balls above the two, and dropped them. He watched as their silhouettes quickly faded into the balls. They shook faintly.