Fanfiction time! Hey there. This is the 'reincarnation' as I like to call it – actually, wait no. That's a horrible explanation. I'd rather go with "masterfully reborn version." Yes, that sounds decent. – of my previous attempt at a Pokemon fanfiction, titled "Unknown Dissonance." Well, UD didn't really go where I had intended and instead of continuing 'down that road,' I'm starting again! Keep in mind this story is completely different in plot lines, characters, and all that other crap. Oh, wait. Shit – I better edit that out. Can't have the fragile minds of readers shattered. What would that make of the world?

Enjoy!

Oh, and if you're easily offended by cursing, I advice you to stop reading. Right now.

Jus' sayin'

"Holy shit! What the fuck was that!" I yelled. In my parents living room, while they were like five meters away, cooking in the kitchen.

It was a pretty bloody stupid thing to do. I was playing Halo, on my brand new Xbox 360. Oh, I felt so cool and in the groove. I have my reasons for bursting out like I did. So, get this. I'm sitting down with my feet resting on the console, I don't have any shoes on, keeping it as clean as possible. Suddenly, BAM. The thing fucking bursts into flames. It was freaking loud. Loud like you wouldn't imagine. The ringing in my ears. Shit. Just too much.

You'd think 'oh, wow. You just destroyed your Xbox and damaged your ears.' (By the way, thanks for caring), But wait! There's more. My feet. Want to know what happened to them?

Scorched.

Fucking burnt black. What the hell? This shit only ever happens to people in movies, or books. Never to me. I bet you're thinking that nothing'll happen to you. No crippling injuries, no painful death. Just like, you live your life in peace, then you die, happily at the age of ninety, or whatever you wish for. But I'll let you in on a little secret;

It can happen. And it's definitely not fun.

Okay, I've rambled on for long enough, back to the story.

So I scream out in terror. I don't feel pain, my feet were simply numb. Mum and dad probably couldn't hear me. Again: Fucking. Loud. Noise. – So they sprint out of the kitchen, into the living room. My foot isn't burnt, yet. They see my feet on fire, and... Stand still, jaws dropped to the floor. No help, nothing. Fucking hell, I still blame them for the injury. Like ten seconds pass before they even lift a finger. Dad acted first. All heroic like. Did the first thing that came to mind. Must've thought it was a brilliant plan.

He dived onto my feet. Yes, dived.

…

So now his shirt has caught fire. Guess what! It was suddenly time to do something smart. He runs back into the kitchen, blasts the tap on full pressure and soaks himself. After that, he casually walks back into the living room, where he can see the fire has burnt out. And OH MY FUCKING GOODNESS! He breaths a sigh of fucking relief. What. The. Fuck!

I'm known to swear pretty often, but this just pushed me to the limits. And beyond. So, as I was saying, as he sighed, I almost expected him to make a comment about the safety of the furniture, or how expensive that new rug is. Hah. I would've been furious, although looking back, it'd be fucking hilarious. Eh, I've lost my train of thought. Wait, yeah. I was asleep. Actually, let me take that back. "I fainted," while less manly, is more accurate. My manliness comes from my ability to admit weakness... (Dammit, you better believe me. I've got awful self confidence.) Okay, this is what I've been told happened:

"Woah! Oh my goodness! Wha-Feet" Dad spluttered, unable to form complete sentences. Once again he was still, jaw dropped with an expression of absolute derp (look it up on Urbandictionary, un-hipster-like reader) not just covering his face, but also his entire presence. If I believed in aura's, I'm sure that'd be radiating pure derp, too.

Back to me; As unbelievable as this story is, it actually happened. I mean, an exploding Xbox bursting into flames then burning my foot to ash? Yeah, I admit it sounds silly. But think of it this way: If you were to talk to a twenty year old who had NEVER seen a Pokemon, and you told him that there were little creatures that became your pet and fought in battles, he would merely snigger, telling you to stop behaving so juvenile. You have to see the Pokemon to believe in them. It's like unicorns. Most people don't believe in them, but I'm serious when I say, I fucked a unicorn. Wait, too vulgar? Okay, I had sex with a unicorn. Feels good man. Although that's a story for another day. Maybe I'll explain it later.

Ahem.

I'm asleep, dad is barely concious and mum was sitting next to what she believed what she thought was my corpse, laughing uncontrollably. I think I'll tell you a little bit about mum. She's insane. Like, her heart's in the right place, but wow. She's really messed up in the head. One time, when I was a baby, she swung me out the window, trying to bounce me off the washing line. True story, bro. She actually did it. Needless to say, I didn't bounce, instead I just got a few bruises and was rudely woken up. It was my first ever memory. A fucking terrible one at that. When I was like four years old, in class the teacher asked me about my earliest memory. I simply stated; "When mummy through me out the window while I was asleep." Some of the children started crying. The teacher had to go 'roud calming everyone down. She probably thought it was pretty funny. For a preschool teacher she was quite the bitch. Excuse my language. Mum uses toothbrushes as hair combs 'cos "it would cost an unnecessary amount of money to by a proper comb. I've got all I need here," despite the fact we're quite well off. Dad is bald, so he doesn't need a comb or brush.

Hmm. While I'm talking about my family, I will OFFICALLY introduce myself (I feel so professional);

My name is Jon Simmons. If you know somebody named Jon Simmons, or you're named Jon Simmons, don't flatter yourself. The name has no relation to anything. I'm sixteen years old (spelling out numbers gets me high), like five feet nine inches tall, 62 kilograms, (if you're American, look up kilograms into the googler thingy) I live in Mansauce Town (laugh at me all you want, it's got some badass features,) I've had sex with multiple beautiful females (yeah, buddy. Dreams DO count,) got countless friends who are just begging to be with me (same rule applies) and I'm extremely intelligent. No shit. Like, that's true.

My dad's a moron. Harsh, but true. If you've met him, you'd understand what I mean. He's also super religious. Catholic. I've got no idea what Catholics do. But he HATES swearing. He's not a violent man, but if you so much as say 'god' or 'damn', you've lost any privileges you've got for months. He believes 'golf' is an acronym for 'gentlemen only, ladies forbidden.' How ridiculous! It's like he's high all the time, but would rather die than 'give in,' as he would say, to drugs. Hold on, I'm going to take back what I just said. He isn't a 'moron,' he's super good with computers. You ask him to code the internet thing, he'll use his Aech Tea Em Ell (whatever the fuck that is) and code an internet. It's incredible. Oh, and he's awesome at maths. It's just general knowledge and common sense where he's lacking. And social skills, add that to the list. He's like Borat, if you've seen that movie. If you haven't, lolwut?

Seriously. Like, everyone has seen that movie. Kinda like saying 'I've never seen Toy Story.'

And... Back to the story!

Mum's laughing. I know that sounds evil, but it happens when she is confused. If I saw this happen as someone else, it would fuck with my head too. Funny thing, well, not so funny when you're in my position, but for the average douche bag, this would've been hilarious; My dad literally went back to preparing a meal (fun fact (or incredibly dull)! My dad loves cooking. He's rubbish, but does it everyday. Being the kind, courteous person I am, I eat everything he puts in front of me despite my overwhelming urge to throw it up.), mum kept laughing for what seemed to her like hours. She then thought of something so ingenious and brilliant, it just HAD to be said.

"Maybe I should call an ambulance. This looks serious."

You don't say?

So an ambulance is called. When comes to pick me up I'm still asleep. Although not for much longer. Out of the ambulance comes two Machoke's, obviously new to the job. They weren't too careful. BAM! (As if I hadn't had enough of them today), while carrying me outside, my head nicks – wait, no. My head collapses – That sounds worse... My heads smashes against the top rim of the front door. Another rude awakening. I'm shocked "back to life," as mum puts it. I continued to get hauled over to the ambulance, where I'm greeted by an incredibly hot nurse who gives me the kiss of life. Oh, shit. I woke up again.

…

The ambulance sped up, they wanted to make sure I was treated as soon as possible. Too bad they took the long way. Which also happened to have a lot of road bumps, jagged rocks, gravel, you know, the usual shit that's bound to make for a bumpy ride. So I'm lying down, still fantasising about that beautiful nurse, when BAM! (Those three key's are wearing out) something punctures a tyre.

Fucking brilliant day, isn't it? I bet you're laughing right now, all smug, relaxing at your computer screen. Oh, how I hate you.

Did I mention this whole story is based on true events?

No?

Good thing too. That would've been utter crap.

The ambulance juddered to an abrupt halt. Luckily I was strapped to a stretcher. Yeah, despite the incompetence of my family, me, my dog (oh! I haven't told you about him yet) and the two clumsy Machoke's, not all was bad with the world. In fact, Mansauce town is special like that. You know, the kind of special that people refer to the mentally handicap? Yeah, that kind. Go anywhere else, outside Mansauce 'n you'll find perfectly normal human beings and Pokemon.

In an instant, the Machoke's came to my aid, wanting to make sure nothing else was damaged. I feel so loved. Anyway, one of them nod's to the other in slow motion, you know, the sort of nod the cool guys do in movies, usually at the end when they're about to ride motorbikes and save some chick from an evil scientist? The one who's been nodded at (there should be a word for that) walks around so my legs face him. The other goes to the opposite end. In a single, effortless movement, I'm yanked up. Painfully. Despite good intentions, the Machoke holding my leg's is a little too close to my extremely sensitive feet. I scream the manliest high-pitched scream I've ever screamed. I think the Pokemon were quite intimidated by the manliness, evident by dropping me back onto the stretcher and jumping backwards.

Yeah, that'd be it.

The drop was horrible. My feet slammed against the side of the stretcher, taking off chunks of ashes. Again, I blacked out. In a manly way, obviously.

…

I wake up in hospital, all these wires and shit were connected up to me, rooting from a large, old looking machine sat upon a table directly right of the bed I'm lying on. It was barely out of reach, I wonder if it's designed like that so insane patients don't disconnect the wire when they get a little more loopy than usual. Heh. It's a little annoying, I wouldn't mind ripping a few out so I can get the hell up and find out what's going on. Although, I just realised that wouldn't have been much help. I look down at where my feet should have been.

They were gone. Instead a large white cast was wrapped around a stump on my legs. The sudden realisation hit me like that old dude on Family Guy hits young boys.

Shit.

How was that for a first chapter? Funny? Exciting? Interesting? Can't wait for more? Please, leave a review and tell me. If you've got any questions, ask them in the review and I'll be sure to answer them in the next chapter.

Chapter 2, I'm being supr srs here, no jokes. We'll be diving into the plot, meet Jon's "crush" as the cool hipsters say, and watch him squirm at embarrassing moments. Seriously, chapter 2 is cringe worthy.