Spore *WWC Entry*
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    Default Spore *WWC Entry*

    Awesome, first contest entry.

    Pokemon Attempted: Shroomish x2 (medium x2)
    Characters Needed: 20k-40k characters
    Characters in the Story: 29,312 characters



    Spore


    *BEEP* *BEEP*

    Agent Bixler rolled over and grabbed the beeper that was buzzing on his dresser. He wiped the sleep from his eyes and checked the number, and saw that it was his work calling for him. Craig Bixler sprung up from bed and quickly began getting dressed.

    Bixler worked for the International Police, an agency that specializes in solving crimes around the world that prove to be too much for the local police force to handle. They are an elite group of crime-stoppers, dedicated to making the world a safer place, and none took this responsibility more seriously than Agent Bixler. He was very smart, and had a knack for putting the pieces of a case together that no one else could. Aside from his exceptional brightness, he also was very skilled in battling. The deadly combination of brain and brawn made him a forced to be reckoned with, and a true asset to the International Police.

    He pulled on his beige trench coat, a shining badge pinned to the chest, and headed out the door. Once he was in his backyard, he produced a pokeball from his belt. He tossed it into the air, releasing a large bird into the sky. His Skarmory screeched, sending shivers down Bixler’s spine. The metallic bird soared through the air around the agent, the sunlight glinting off of his steely coat. Crimson down poked out from under the beast’s steel wings as it came back down to the earth. The bird walked over to his master and gestured for him to get on.

    Agent Bixler climbed on and whispered in his pokemon’s ear, “Get me to Rustboro.”

    Since he lived in Hoenn, he reported to the Hoenn HQ for the International Police, which was located in Rustboro City. Rustboro was the most industrious city in Hoenn, and was home to the world-famous Devon Corporation. Devon specialized in making technology for trainers, such as new pokeballs, and a few years back they invented the Pokenav, a GPS-like invention that could also be used to talk to other trainers. To the public, Devon is viewed as a company that helps the everyday trainer, but the International Police view it as something more important. Anytime Devon invents something new, the International Police are the first to get to use it.

    Skarmory and Agent Bixler began to drop from the sky, and headed down toward the city. They landed just in front of the large, bland looking building that was the HQ. Bixler returned Skarmory to his ball and entered.

    “Good morning Agent Bixler,” said the receptionist as he passed by, “The chief would like a word with you in his office.”

    Bixler nodded and kept walking. The agent was a very serious man. It wasn’t that he lacked a sense of humor, he simply felt that he had no time to joke. His work was his life, and he didn’t think that anything should get in the way of that.

    Bixler walked through a door and into the main room of the HQ. He walked around the perimeter and around the group of desks in the middle, and headed towards the chief’s office. Two men were standing in front of the office door blocking Bixler’s path. The agent flashed his ID and badge, and the two men parted. The chief happily greeted Bixler as he walked in.

    “Agent Bixler! You made it!” the chief laughed. He was a jolly man who almost always had a large cigar poking out of his mouth. He got up from his desk and hobbled over to where Bixler was standing, shaking his hand. “Morning, agent!”

    “Good morning, sir. What do you have for me today?” asked Bixler. His cold eyes never broke contact with the chief’s.

    “Well, we have a bit of a problem that isn’t so far away unfortunately,” the chief said.

    “What do you mean?”

    “Well, it seems that there is a bit of a drug problem in and around the areas of Rustboro City, Petalburg Woods, and Petalburg City. It needs handling, and I believe that you’re the man for the job,” the chief said.

    “A drug problem, huh? Local dealers selling to kids or something?” asked Bixler.

    “It’s a bit more serious than that, agent. You see, our moles have gotten intelligence that a major drug cartel from Sinnoh is moving part of their operations to Hoenn, this area of Hoenn to be more specific. According to our agents, there is a type of drug that grows only around this area of the region. We don’t know what it could be just yet, but that’s what I want you to find out. We know where their base of operations is, and we need you to do a little reconnaissance work,” explained the chief.

    “Hm, it sounds interesting. We need to get this stopped before it spreads past Rustboro. I accept the mission. Can I get my briefing?”

    “Of course. Pam has it for you outside. So long, Agent Bixler, and good luck.”

    Agent Bixler nodded and headed back outside. This new case sounded like a big one, and he knew that he had to stop it. He walked back through the large room, and back out into the lobby.

    “Hello again, Pam. Do you have my briefing?” asked Bixler.

    “Here you are, agent. Good luck!”

    Bixler took the manila folder and left the building. Once he was outside, he opened the folder to see what was in store for him. He began reading the details of the case.

    Agent, you are to infiltrate the cartel’s base of operations and get as much intel as you can. Find out what the new drug is, where they plan on sending it, and how much they already have. If you are able, bring back a specimen of the drug so that we know exactly what we’re working with.

    Their base of operations is located deep within Petalburg Woods in an old warehouse. We presume that it will be moderately to heavily guarded, so be sure not to cause any suspicion among them.

    Good luck.

    Bixler closed the folder and set out towards his favorite place for gathering information. Whenever he needed info on a case, he would go straight to the people who knew about crime the most; criminals.

    Agent Bixler walked through the slums of Rustboro, and people scattered as he passed them. Luckily, for them anyway, he wasn’t here to arrest anyone, he just needed answers. He went to a bar known as One Eyed Dick’s Bar and Saloon, a shady joint that looked like it would provide some good info for the agent.

    He went inside and was blasted with smoke, and the smell of booze and regret filled the air. Scantily clad women were taking men upstairs, and a few guys were having drinks at the bar. A poker game was being held in the corner of the bar, and Bixler saw several pokeballs sitting on the table instead of money. This sickened him, but he knew that he couldn’t break from his mission.

    Bixler saw a man mixing drinks at the bar. He was talking to the locals, and seemed like he ran the place. “Must be Dick,” thought the agent.

    “Hey Dick! You and me need to talk!” said Bixler, walking over to the bar.

    The man looked up at Agent Bixler and threw the drink he was mixing onto the floor, shattering it. An intense rage was in his eye, as if he was receding from humanity and tapping into his primal instincts.

    “What the hell did you just say to me, bro?” shouted Dick. Everyone in the bar stopped what they were doing in hopes of seeing a beat down.

    “I said we need to have a little discussion, Dick.”

    “Yo, man, this ain’t the place to be callin’ names unless you came ready to throw down,” Dick said.

    “Calling names? Aren’t you Dick?”

    “What? Nah, I’m Antonio. Dick is in the back,” Antonio said.

    “Oh, well…erm…sorry for the misunderstanding, Antonio. Can I go talk to Dick then?” the agent asked.

    “Sure, man. He’s right back here,” said Antonio, letting Agent Bixler past the bar and leading him into a back room.

    A man was sitting at a table in the back of the room, reading a book. The cover of the book obscured his face, hiding the identity of the man. He had a ring on each finger, and wore a gold watch. Suddenly, Bixler heard the door shut behind him. Obviously, this was a setup, and there didn’t seem to be any way of escaping it.

    Men stepped out of the darkness all around the agent, and two grabbed him by the arms. The man at the table put his book down, and gazed up at Bixler. He had greased back hair, and wore an eye patch. Dick! This must be him!

    “What is it I can do for you, officer?” said Dick. He spoke like a snake, with malice in his voice. The words slithered out, coated in poison.

    “Can you do something about these goons?” asked Bixler, struggling.

    “Not until you do a little explaining. You come into my bar, my livelihood, and insult one of my employees, and expect to be on friendly terms with me?”

    “I can explain that part, you see-“

    “Cut it, I don’t care. Boy oh boy, it isn’t every day that an International Police agent just walks into my bar. You see, I’m not fond of your organization. You people have caused a lot of problems for me,” said Dick. “So please, explain to me what it is that you want.”

    “I won’t beat around the bush. I need information and I know you have it.”

    “And what kind of information would this be?” asked Dick.

    “Drugs. I know that there’s a new group of dealers around here, and I need to stop them. The problem is, I don’t know what they’re selling, other than the fact that it only comes from Petalburg Woods. What do you know about it?”

    “You mean the new cartel, I assume,” he said. Dick gritted his teeth, and a look of pure disgust came over his face. “You and I have a common goal then, agent. You see, that cartel will be taking a lot of business away from me. It’s no secret that I also partake in the selling of illegal…substances. These people come onto our turf, with a new drug, and start swiping up clients. It’s terrible.”

    “Well, I’m glad to see we have some common ground then. But I still need to know what this new drug is! The force has to nip this in the bud before it can spread!”

    “Agent, that is futile and you know it. You can never stop drugs, because people want them too badly. I wouldn’t be helping you now if I didn’t believe that,” he spoke. “As far as the new drug goes, I guess I can show you a specimen.”

    Dick snapped his fingers, and one of the men brought out a box and placed it on the table where Dick sat. The box had a cloth over it, hiding what was inside.

    “The drug will not surprise you, agent. You can’t go through Petalburg Woods without seeing one of the beasts. They are not new, but the way that they are used is.”

    With that, Dick removed the curtain and revealed a Shroomish in a cage. It looked tired, as if it had just come out of a battle, and had some kind of cord coming from the top of its head. Bixler’s eyes followed the cord and he saw that at the other end of it, there was a device that resembled a miniature remote control.

    “People are…are using Shroomish as drugs?” asked Bixler, horrified.

    “I’m afraid so. At first, the idea disturbed me, but after my first encounter with its effects, I was in love. The high you receive is like no other.”

    “But, how do you even…” Bixler stammered.

    “You wish to see how it works? Ask, and you shall receive,” said Dick. He picked up the remote control and pressed the single button on it. A small zapping noise came out of it, and suddenly the Shroomish seemed like it was in a world of pain. It grunted and squealed as a yellow dust began to emit from the top of its head. A cloud of the toxin formed above it, and Dick leaned over it, inhaling deeply. The zapping stopped, and the Shroomish collapsed, exhausted.

    “You see now? The device in my hand is connected to a special gland inside the Shroomish. The gland produces the toxin used in Shroomish’s Spore attack. By…encouraging the gland to activate, the Shroomish is forced to use Spore, filling the air with its beautiful nectar. The high is like drifting off to a deep sleep, and relaxes the muscles. As we speak, I can feel it coming over me,” Dick said. His eyes closed, and he threw his head back. He seemed to be in a state of ecstasy.

    “Hey, Dick, what should we do with this guy?” asked Antonio.

    Dick didn’t say a word or even move his head, he simply waved his hand. The men holding Bixler let go of his arms, and Antonio opened the door he had come through. Agent Bixler was about to walk out, but he looked over at the Shroomish in its cage again. The little pokemon was wincing, and breathing heavily. A few times he even tried standing, but to no avail. Bixler needed to find a way to free this Shroomish, but how could he with all these thugs around here, watching every one of his movements?

    Bixler knew he only had one shot at this, and if he failed he probably wouldn’t make it back out, but he couldn’t stand to see the little pokemon suffer like this. He walked outside and exited the bar, and quickly made his way around to the alley behind the bar. He peeked in through a window and saw the room he was just in, and all the men were still in there. Bixler pulled Skarmory’s pokeball out, and released the bird onto the pavement.

    Skarmory looked around, not used to being confined by narrow streets, and then looked at his trainer questioningly. “I know this is a bit unorthodox Skarmory, but we’ve got to do this. Ok, you’re going to bust through this window and do something about those guys in there, and I’ll come in afterwards to snatch up the Shroomish. Keep me covered, and follow me out, got it?” Skarmory nodded and got primed to attack. “Ok, use Drill peck to bust in, and then make sure those goons can’t do anything too us.”

    Skarmory jumped into the air and began spinning rapidly. The bird looked like a small, iron tornado as it busted through the window. Bixler peeked into the window again and saw Skarmory standing near the middle of the room, and all the thugs looked surprised. Before they had time to react, Skarmory opened its beak and emitted a terrible screeching noise, bringing all the men to their knees. Bixler, recognizing the attack as Metal Sound, covered his ears. While the men writhed on the floor, Bixler took the opportunity to rush into the room.

    He leapt through the window and ran over to the table. Dick was unconscious in his chair, and the other men were still affected by Skarmory’s horrible screeches. Bixler opened the cage’s door and reached in for the Shroomish, who was now unconscious. He put the pokemon under his arm, and whistled for Skarmory to come with him. The agent jumped back out the window, and Skarmory followed. Before Skarmory left, he opened his wings and tossed a layer of Spikes onto the ground around the room, to prevent the men from following them. He tucked in his wings, and followed his trainer through the window. Once the two were outside, Bixler jumped onto Skarmory’s back and flew back to HQ.

    The trio landed in front of the HQ building, and Bixler returned Skarmory to his ball. By now it was getting late, and the sun was setting behind them. Carrying the Shroomish ever so carefully, he rushed inside to speak with the chief. He walked through the lobby, and past the offices, and into the chief’s office.

    “Agent Bixler, back so soon?” asked the chief.

    “I’ve found out what the cartel is after, chief. This,” he said, placing Shroomish on the chief’s desk. “They’re using Shroomish as a drug!”

    “Shroomish? That would explain why they’re based out of Petalburg Woods, I guess. Did you visit the base?”

    “No, sir. I went to a bar downtown, and the owner had this one in a cage. I managed to get it before I left though,” said Bixler.

    “Good work, agent. We can get a lot more done now that we know what they’re doing in the woods. But you have to explain to me how exactly they use the Shroomish as a drug…”

    “Of course. Do you see the cord coming out of its head? It runs back and connects to this remote control, and when you push the button, it sends a current to the Shroomish. Basically, it induces Shroomish’s Spore attack, which you breathe in to get a high. The man demonstrated it, and it seemed to cause Shroomish a lot of pain, and by the looks of him, he’s been through a lot of that. It looks like he needs to be taken to the pokemon center as soon as possible.”

    “Will do, agent. Ok, I can’t thank you enough for getting this info for us, but now comes the hard part. You’ve still got to go to their hideout, and bring an end to this. Petalburg Woods is the only place where you can find Shroomish in the wild. If we don’t stop them, they’re going to make the species go extinct,” the chief said.

    “You’ve got it, chief.”

    “Get in, get the proof you need, and get out. On your signal, we’ll send reinforcements to make sure you’re alright, and nobody gets out,” the chief explained.

    Bixler left the room while a man came in and put Shroomish in a pokeball, hopefully taking him to the pokemon center. Bixler left the HQ and released Skarmory again.

    “Ok, Skarmory, we’re going to be flying over Petalburg Woods, and if you see anything suspicious below us, just tell me,” he told his pokemon. Skarmory nodded and he climbed on top of him.

    Skarmory soared into the sky, and they got above the forest. At this altitude, Bixler couldn’t see anything beneath them except for green, but he knew that Skarmory would be able to spot the even the most minor detail from here. They hadn’t been up long when Skarmory turned his head back to Bixler and made a noise, as if to tell him that he saw something.

    “Got something? Alright, fly me down then.”

    Skarmory went into a nose dive, and the duo dropped down into the forest below. They landed in a small clearing, and they could see a building a few hundred yards away. It looked like an abandoned warehouse where timber used to be stored. Bixler could see that there was a fence around it, and men were standing at the front gate.

    Agent Bixler began jogging over to the base to get a closer look. Staying low and behind bushes, he crept around the perimeter, looking for a weakness in the fence to exploit. Seeing none, he released Skarmory again.

    “Ok, I need you to use Steel Wing to cut that fence so that I can get in,” he said to Skarmory. Skarmory raised his wing and slashed the fence, cutting it cleanly. “Great job Skarmory.”

    Bixler pressed through the fence under the cover of darkness, and entered the compound. Now that he was so close, he saw that there was more than one building. There was the main warehouse that was once used for storing the cut timber, and then smaller buildings that looked like they were offices or workshops. Bixler decided to go to the warehouse first.

    He snuck over to the edge of the warehouse and pressed his body against the building. He crept along the side of the building until he reached a ladder. He looked up and saw that at the top of the ladder, there was a metal catwalk and a door, so he climbed it and went in.

    As soon as he was in, the smell hit him. It was a rotten smell, but also an earthy one. At first he thought it smelled like brussel sprouts had been cooked and left to rot, but once he peeked over the edge of the balcony he was on, he saw what it was. From wall to wall, Shroomish filled the room. It was too crowded for the pokemon to take more than a step or two at a time. In one corner of the room, a large glass box was sitting, and heat lamps hung from its ceiling. There was a table in the container, and on it were pokemon eggs. Men were standing next to the incubator, and every time an egg hatched, they took the newly hatched Shroomish out, and put it on a small pedestal. Just above the pedestal, a plastic tube was hanging. When the Shroomish was placed below it, it was instantly sucked up and transported somewhere else.

    Bixler now realized that this was some sort of giant breeding facility. They were mass producing Shroomish to be sold as drugs. Once more, he looked over at where the Shroomish were in the cage. They looked tired and malnourished.

    Bixler left through the door he came in, and climbed back down the ladder. He peeked around the corner of the building, making sure that nobody was coming, and sprinted towards the closest of the smaller buildings. He peeked through a window, and saw that the lights were off. The agent decided that no one was in the building, so he entered it quietly.

    This time, an even worse smell hit him. He was nearly grounded by the odor, but maintained his balance as he covered his face. He flicked on the lights, and a horrifying image greeted him. A glass case in the back of the room held hundreds and hundreds of Shroomish. They all looked sickly and frail, and most of them looked shriveled. They were much smaller than an average Shroomish, and they seemed to be a pale yellow instead of the usual olive green color that Shroomish boasted. The next thing that Bixler saw was even more disgusting. The glass case had an opening at the base, where Shroomish would fall out, and land on a conveyor belt. The belt would then take them to a large metal device that had smoke coming out of it. When a Shroomish would reach the device, a door would open, revealing flames inside, and the Shroomish fell into it.

    Bixler understood now. This was where the used up Shroomish were put once they couldn’t use Spore anymore. They were put in the container, and then burned alive with the incinerator. At first glance, the Shroomish didn’t seem alive while they rode the conveyor belt to their fiery death, but as they fell into the bowels of the machine, they cried and screamed until finally, they burned into nothingness.

    Bixler ran over to the control panel of the contraption, and switched it off. The incinerator rumbled, and the conveyor belt hissed and came to a halt. He looked into the glass case, and realized that there was no saving these pokemon. They had withered away into shells of their former selves, and they seemed to be unconscious.

    Bixler was filled with rage at the cruelty of these people. He went back outside the building and released Skarmory, and took a piece of paper out of his pocket. On the paper, he wrote a message.

    “Skarmory, go back to HQ and give this to someone. It’s a message telling them to send reinforcements, and that I have all the proof I need. Get to Rustboro, hurry!” shouted Bixler.

    Skarmory flew into the air and back towards Rustboro. With any luck, reinforcements should arrive within the hour. Until then, Bixler was going to sabotage these bastards a little.

    Agent Bixler ran back over to the breeding room and climbed the ladder. He crept along the metal catwalk that ran around the interior of the building, until he reached a maintenance room. From there, he could see everything that went on in the warehouse, and more importantly, he had access to the electrical system.

    “Alright, time to let the Shroomish out of here.”

    Bixler went to the breaker box and cracked it open. He found the main breaker and flicked it, causing the lights to go down, and the incubator to stop working. The inside of the building was now pitch black, and the men below were anxiously asking each other what had happened. A ladder in the room led to the floor below, so he took it down. As the agent stepped off of the ladder, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

    “Going somewhere, buddy?” said a voice behind him. Bixler turned around, surprised, and was met with a fist.

    ***
    Bixler woke up with a pounding headache. Whoever had punched him had hit him hard enough to put him out. When Bixler went to reach for his head, he found that his hands had been tied behind him, and that he was sitting in a chair. Someone had returned the power, and he saw that he was sitting in front of the Shroomish cage.

    Agent Bixler looked around him and saw a huge man holding a lead pipe, and two other men on each side of him. The man with the pipe was laughing, and one of the others was cracking his knuckles. The third man had Bixler’s badge, and was tossing it into the air, snickering.

    “How ya feeling, agent?” asked the big one. He took a fat finger and pressed it into the ever-growing lump on Bixler’s forehead. Bixler let out a scream, and the men laughed.

    “You have a nice nap? You were out for about thirty minutes! I guess I might’ve hit you a bit too hard,” said the man. He raised the pipe he was holding and looked it over. Then he took it and smashed it into Bixler’s gut, knocking the air out of him. Bixler tried to scream, but all that came out was a breathless gasp.

    The men laughed again, and the man threw the pipe to the ground. Now he raised a massive fist and slammed it into Bixler’s jaw. Bixler spat blood on the cement floor. The man began to assault Bixler’s torso with his fists, knocking even more of his breath out. After he had worn himself out, he took Bixler’s hair in his hand and tossed his head back.

    “Buddy, nobody comes in here uninvited and gets away without being punished,” said the man. He was still holding his head back, and he produced a knife from a sheath on his belt. The blade was long and curved, and the light glinted off of it as it neared his throat.

    Bixler couldn’t just accept this as his fate. He struggled and struggled, but his hands were bound too tightly. He shook his head, but the man’s grip was too strong. Then, Bixler realized what a great position he was in. He was right next to the electronic lock on the gate of the fence where the Shroomish were being held. Not only that, but his feet were free!

    Bixler raised his feet and slammed both of them into the man’s chest, sending him backwards. The recoil of the kick also sent Bixler’s chair flying back, tipping it over. He fell to the ground, and rolled over. Before the man could recover from his hit, and the other two could get to him, Bixler rammed a shoulder into the door control, releasing the herd of Shroomish.

    As the gate opened, the Shroomish flooded out into the warehouse like a tidal wave. Bixler did his best to shield himself, but their little feet trampled him all the same. He looked up to see the men trying to stand, but having no success in the sea of stampeding Shroomish. Bixler was in a good position to scoot out of the chair, so he shimmied and struggled until his arms came out from behind the chair. He rolled out of the way of the stampeding Shroomish and stood up.

    Bixler was standing now, which was good, but his hands were still bound behind him. He looked around for something to saw through the rope with, and saw the man’s knife lying on the ground. He rushed through the stream of Shroomish and bent over, trying to pick it up backwards. At last, his awkward attempt at picking the knife up succeeded, and he began to saw through the rope.

    Just before he had gotten all the way through, he felt a hand on his shoulder turn him around. The huge man was back, and he launched his hand into his face again, knocking him backwards. He picked up the evil blade again, and walked over to where the agent was lying.

    “Brother, you don’t know how good this is gonna feel,” said the man, laughing. Just as he bent over Bixler, raising the blade over his head, one of the Shroomish jumped on top of Bixler’s chest and shot a yellow cloud of dust onto the man. At first, Bixler thought it was Spore, but the effects came on too quickly for that. His muscles began to twitch, and he dropped his knife on the ground. Static seemed to jump all over the surface of his body, and Bixler realized that Shroomish had used Stun Spore on him, leaving him paralyzed.

    Bixler rolled out from under him, and the man fell to the ground, twitching. He picked the knife back up and quickly finished the job, and noticed that the Shroomish was still sitting there. All the others were fleeing around him, but he stood there in front of Bixler, just looking at him.

    “Thanks a lot, Shroomish,” said Bixler to the little pokemon. He picked him up and headed over to the warehouse’s door. “Let’s get out of here.”

    Agent Bixler walked through the mass of Shroomish, who were now standing in the middle of the warehouse since the warehouse door was closed. Bixler opened the door, and the pokemon fled the building, escaping into Petalburg Woods where they belonged. He walked outside and was met by several International Police agents. They were searching all the buildings, and two had detained the two men who had captured Bixler.

    Bixler, still holding the Shroomish that saved him, walked over to where the chief was standing.

    “Goodness, man! What happened to you?” shouted the chief when he got within a few feet of Bixler.

    “I was…compromised. Seems like everything worked out ok though,” said Bixler.

    “I guess so. Great job on releasing these Shroomish, you saved a lot of pokemon. Looks like you’ve got one more to release there,” said the chief, smiling.

    “Actually, this guy helped me out a bit. I believe I’ll let him hang around awhile,” said Bixler, patting Shroomish on the head.

    All around the two men, officers were bringing people out of the buildings in handcuffs. They were taking them back to police cars that they had gotten into the woods, and driving back to the city. A few Shroomish were still walking around, but most of them had scattered into the woods. Suddenly, Skarmory flew down and landed next to them. Bixler rubbed its head, and put him back in his pokeball.

    As Bixler watched the criminals being hauled off, he knew that he succeeded. The day was saved, as well as hundreds, and possibly thousands, of pokemon. Of course, Bixler didn’t get a big head. He was a true professional, and knew that he had simply done his job. Bixler got hurt, and saw a lot of things he didn’t want to see, but all so that nobody else would need to see those things again. All that Agent Bixler came away with after this ordeal was a few scars, some broken bones, and a new pokemon, but that was alright with him. He was only doing his job.




    Note:
    Last edited by Roulette; 23rd December 2010 at 09:05 PM.

  2. #2
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    Default Re: Spore *WWC Entry*

    Intro: Your story starts out with Bixler waking up for work and a quick paragraph introduction of him, which works here. In some stories, it might be preferable to work in his background and stuff as you go, but like I said, it works fine here. You also describe him pretty well, as well as his Pokemon and the International Police office. Right away, I can tell this isn't an ordinary 'trainer walks into the woods' story, which is awesomesauce. It actually vaguely reminded me of Law and Order, which is probably good (though it may be because that's on TV right now, but I digress).

    Plot: Your. Plot. Is. Wicked. Awesome. A detective goes undercover on a drug bust, sneaks into a bar where he meets a crime boss, finds out people are snorting Shroomish, sneaks into the drug factory, gets the shit beat out of him, and then saves the day. I congratulate you on this. You also have very smooth transitions between scenes and no major plot holes. In fact, I'd go so far as to encourage you to write more of this guy's adventures. Maybe a chapter where everyone gets high off of Koffing fumes? (I'm kidding...probably.) Anyways, this was an amazing plot. Also:

    He went to a bar known as One Eyed Dick’s Bar and Saloon
    I laughed so much.

    Dialogue: Not too much to say on your dialogue. It wasn't choppy, you didn't have problems with it, and it flowed well with your story. Just one thing:

    “I said we need to have a little discussion, Dick.”

    “Yo, man, this ain’t the place to be callin’ names unless you came ready to throw down,” Dick said.

    “Calling names? Aren’t you Dick?”

    “What? Nah, I’m Antonio. Dick is in the back,” Antonio said.
    YOU SIR, WIN THE STORY SECTION. THE END.

    Grammar:

    He wiped the sleep from his eyes and checked the number, and saw that it was his work calling for him.
    Because of the placement of one of your 'ands', it's kinda a run-on sentence. It should look like this:

    He wiped the sleep from his eyes, checked the number, and saw that it was his work calling for him.
    The deadly combination of brain and brawn made him a forced to be reckoned with, and a true asset to the International Police.
    'Forced' should be 'force'.

    Two men were standing in front of the office door blocking Bixler’s path.
    Needs a comma between 'door' and 'blocking'

    Whenever he needed info on a case, he would go straight to the people who knew about crime the most; criminals.
    Your semicolon needs to be a colon.

    Agent Bixler walked through the slums of Rustboro, and people scattered as he passed them.
    You have a few places like that throughout your story where you put commas where they aren't needed. Try reading some novels in your free time and specifically pay attention to the grammar. It's not the funnest thing to do, but it helps.

    “Must be Dick,” thought the agent.
    This isn't really an error, but you should try to think of a different way to indicate thought, as using quotation marks is kinda confusing. :X Maybe italics?

    “Ok, use Drill peck to bust in, and then make sure those goons can’t do anything too us.”
    Too/To switch. Not a big deal.


    Detail: You did really well with detail too. You did an epic job describing the Pokemon and a pretty good job with the actual background of the story. You brought most of your human characters to life fairly well too. The only thing is you never gave a physical description of Bixler. You did describe what he was wearing, but never the guy himself....Still better than a lot of stories, so I can't complain too much. Just something to think about. You were also pretty creative with the moves, so props.

    Length: You needed a minimum of 20k, and you had almost 30k, so you're good.

    Reality: There was nothing super unrealistic. Just one thing I want to point out is that, Bixler gets hit over the head and knocked out for 30 minutes. While it's totally possible to get knocked out, usually if you don't wake up within about 5-10 minutes, you end up with serious brain damage and waaaaay more than a bump on the head. Since this is something that is seen all the time in movies, on TV, and even in books, I'm not going to count this against you, it's just a tip.

    Personal Feelings: I thought your story was hilarious and creative and see no reason why not to give you both Pokemon you wrote for.

    Outcome: Both Shroomish....captured. Good work, Roulette. I AM SO PROUD AND HAPPY THAT I PICKED YOU AND NOT A DIFFERENT NEWBIE TO NURTURE. HAVE FUN WITH YOUR SHROOMISH (and give the other one to ST so he doesn't eat you)


    I speak four languages, help me practice please
    Hablas conmigo en español, por favor
    Vous parlez avec moi en français, s'il vous plaît
    我正在学中文

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