As mist filled the dank cavern around them, the herd began to lower the dead Slowpoke into the water.
Slowking began to chant , and the crowd of Slowbro and Slowpoke below him echoed his chant solemnly.
"Beloved Arceus, look after our brother Mortimer." Slowking raised his paws, and the crowd of Pokémon echoed him.
"BELOVED ARCEUS, LOOK AFTER OUR BROTHER MORTIMER."
"Guide him in his journey from this world to the next," Slowking chanted.
"GUIDE HIM IN HIS JOURNEY FROM THIS WORLD TO THE NEXT."
"As you look after those of us who remain, we will honour Mortimer's memory."
"AS YOU LOOK AFTER THOSE OF US WHO REMAIN, WE WILL HONOUR MORTIMER'S MEMORY."
Slowking clapped his paws together, and a crowd of six Slowbro lifted Mortimer's body, and carried it out towards the waves. They tossed Mortimer's body into the water, and it began to sink. Within five seconds, it had been swallowed by the black water.
"And now we will have a moment of silent reflection in memory of brother Mortimer." Slowking clapped his hands together, and the crowd of Pokémon bowed their heads.
One Slowbro stood off to the side, and this was the only Slowbro that did not bow his head. This Slowbro stared intently at the rippling water where Mortimer had just sunk, and he wondered once again if the crowd of Pokémon gathered for the funeral were indirectly killing themselves.
Humanity had named this place Slowpoke Well, but the Slowpoke and Slowbro living in it had never named it. Whether that indicated a simple wisdom or a lack of creativity, Slowbro didn't know. What he did know was that humans only drew water from the uppermost layers of Slowpoke Well, leaving the bottom levels of the cavern to the wild Pokémon. Slowbro thought that was very kind of the humans. It bothered him to think that Slowking was returning that kindness by poisoning the local water supply.
For as long as anybody could remember, Slowpoke and Slowbro gave their dead a burial at sea. Dead Slowpoke, Slowbro and Slowking were returned to the water, in memory of the first Slowpoke that crawled out of the water millennia ago. While the dead Pokémon sunk beneath the waves, friends and family would stand by the water and chant the traditional prayers. The elders called it "returning them to the waves". Slowbro thought it was a nice tradition and a good way of letting go.
He just didn't like the fact that it was killing everybody.
It was one thing when Slowpoke and Slowbro placed their dead in the ocean. The water was large enough that the body could rot undisturbed. The Slowbro standing alone figured that most of these bodies actually got eaten by Sharpedos or Gyarados or something, but he thought it best not to mention that to his friends.
The problem was that these Slowpoke and Slowbro didn't live in the ocean. Their water supply consisted solely of a group of small underground lakes. These lakes were how the Pokémon living in Slowpoke Well got their water, and they were the only place they had to bathe and swim.
That was why Slowbro didn't like the idea that his friends were throwing a bunch of decaying corpses in the water. All that decay couldn't make the water especially safe to drink. The lakes didn't even have Sharpedos or Gyarados around to eat the bodies.
In retrospect, the Slowbro standing alone could've picked a better time to voice his concerns than right before the funeral of the dearly departed Mortimer. All it had earned him was a Mega Punch to the face by Slowking, and a spot off by himself during the funeral proceedings.
Slowbro eyed the murky water suspiciously. He suspected the unsafe water had a hand in the death of poor old Mortimer. Mortimer had been looking for a way to jump-start his evolution to Slowbro, and so he'd grabbed the nearest Shellder he could find, and placed it on his head. Unfortunately what Mortimer had thought was a Shellder was actually a very surprised Magikarp, and it began to flop around in fright. While flopping about, the Magikarp got itself lodged in Mortimer's throat, and Mortimer promptly choked to death.
As Slowbro watched the shadow of Mortimer fade beneath the waves, he reflected that his species didn't have the greatest survival instincts.
"And now our ceremony draws to a close," Slowking was saying. "Remember to honour dear Mortimer in your actions, and care for one another. It's what he would have wanted."
Slowbro thought that Mortimer would have wanted the Magikarp out of his throat more than anything. But he supposed that wasn't why he was the spiritual leader.
As the crowd began to disperse, Slowbro found himself ignored once again. As two large Slowpoke walked past him, one of them pointed at Slowbro and whispered.
"Oh look, there goes the witch."
Slowbro sighed. When he tried to make his concerns known to the community, a Slowpoke had decided that he was, in all likelihood, a witch trying to poison them with his science-talk. Slowbro had tried to point out that he was in fact a male, and therefore probably not a witch, but this did not dissuade the community. There was talk of finding some torches and kindling and starting a large mob, until Slowking pointed out the ineffectiveness of torches and kindling against a Pokémon that knew Water Gun.
Slowbro sighed and walked off alone. It wasn't fair… Mortimer had been his friend just as much as anyone else's. Now his friend had died, and he didn't even have anyone to talk to about it. The entire community hated him, and all because he had been trying to help.
Not for the first time, Slowbro thought about how much better life would be if he was a trainer's Pokémon. He wouldn't be stuck in this tiny cavern all day, trying and failing to convince his species not to destroy their only source of water. He'd be off challenging gym leaders, crossing the ocean with his trainer on his back, and maybe even fighting the Champion.
Slowbro snorted. And maybe if he prayed really hard, Arceus would grant him a second head. Hardly any of the trainers visiting Slowpoke Well were looking to catch anything, and those who were always preferred to catch Slowpokes. They had dreams of finding an elusive King's Rock and evolving their Slowpokes to Slowkings, so they didn't care about a boring old Slowbro.
Slowbro's stomach began to growl. The funeral had run long – Slowking would take any excuse to hear himself talk – and Slowbro had skipped breakfast. He wandered down to his favourite underground beach and picked up a shiny black rock. On the bottom of the rock was a thick green moss. Slowbro gave the rock a gigantic slurp with his tongue, and swallowed the moss.
Slowbro burped. It was delicious.
Slowbro scoured the beach for another rock. He spotted one in the distance half-buried in the pale white sand. Slowbro hurried over and picked up the rock. He inspected it for moss…
…and set it down in disappointment. It wasn't a rock at all. It was just an old Pokéball.
Trainers were always dropping spare Pokéballs whenever they needed to make room in their backpack. Normally another trainer would pick the Pokéball up soon enough, but hardly any trainers ever went this deep in the well. Slowbro wondered how the Pokéball had got this far deep in the well to begin with. He began to inspect the beach for another rock.
And that was when he heard the laughter.
It was high-pitched, piercing and cackling. Slowbro didn't like the sounds of it – it sounded like whoever was laughing had at least one screw loose. Slowbro looked around, but the beach was deserted.
Then the laughter grew louder, and Slowbro heard a flapping noise from above him.
Slowbro looked straight up and saw a Zubat flying around the cave ceiling, expertly navigating the stalactites. Its laughter continued to grow louder, and then it turned to speak to Slowbro.
"That's disgusting!" the Zubat cried. "I think I'm going to be sick! Don't tell me you actually eat that!"
Slowbro looked up at the Zubat. Plenty of the small poison type lived in Slowpoke Well, though they often kept to themselves and rarely spoke with other Pokémon. This one didn't seem to share his species' courtesy, and continued to flap around above Slowbro.
"You ate disgusting black gunk on a disgusting black rock on a disgusting black beach!" Zubat said. "I thought you Slowbros always ate… I don't know… Krabby or something."
"Krabby don't live in this cave," Slowbro said calmly. "We couldn't eat them even if we wanted to. Slowbros are herbivores anyway. Please leave me alone."
"That's so gross!" said Zubat. "No wonder your species is so dumb if they don't eat anything but rock slime!"
Slowbro didn't appreciate the comment, but he did his best to ignore it. He returned to his rock and gave it another lick. He was aware of the Zubat still above him, and he was pretty sure the little Pokémon was making exaggerated gagging noises.
"You aren't really in a position to judge me, you know." Slowbro set his rock down. "You drink other Pokémon's blood. That's more unnatural than a little bit of moss."
"Blood is delicious," Zubat said proudly. "It has a delicious salty taste, with just a hint of sweetness. The juiciest, thickest blood comes from a really fat Pokémon, like a Snorlax or Lickitung. Or like you."
Now Slowbro was the one feeling nauseous. He tried to return to his meal, but the Zubat wouldn't leave him alone.
"Come to think of it, you look delicious!" the Zubat continued. "Maybe I'll swoop in for a taste! You don't mind, do you? I promise to stop drinking before you pass out!"
Slowbro turned around, and blasted a Water Gun right at Zubat's face. The Zubat cried out in surprise and went flying backwards, smacking right into a stalactite.
The little Pokémon recovered quickly, and fired a Supersonic at Slowbro. Slowbro was far enough away that the attack was ineffective. He aimed for another Water Gun, but Zubat ducked behind a stalactite and avoided the hit.
"Creepy little vampire," Slowbro muttered. The Zubat didn't reappear from behind the stalactites. He must have scared it off. Slowbro waited a few second, and then turned back to his meal.
Then the Zubat came flying out of the darkness, and delivered a Wing Attack right at Slowbro's head.
Slowbro tumbled backwards, tripped over the discarded Pokéball, and fell to the ground. By the time he got to his feet, the Zubat had whacked him with another Wing Attack.
Slowbro quickly weighted his options. He was at too short a range for a Water Gun, and using a Psychic attack would feel like overkill against the little thing. But he had to do something – the Zubat was snarling and biting at him with every ounce of its strength. He had to try something else…
Slowbro reached out and grabbed Zubat by its wings, and then he rammed it face first into the sand.
Zubat spat out sand and cursed loudly. It tried to break free, but Slowbro held it in his grasp tightly. When it saw that it couldn't win through brute force, the Zubat gave Slowbro's left paw a vengeful bite. Slowbro cried out in paid, and released his grip just enough that the Zubat could tumble away.
Slowbro turned towards the Zubat, and then it dove at him. It was clawing and biting with all its energy, and Slowbro fell backwards again. This time he landed directly on the discarded Pokéball, and the sphere dug into his back. Slowbro gritted his teeth in pain, and grabbed the Zubat with both paws. He rolled off the Pokéball.
As Slowbro's weight shifted the Pokéball made a faint clicking noise, followed by a burst of white light. For a moment he couldn't see, as the entire beach was illuminated with unnatural white light.
When Slowbro's eyes adjusted, he saw the Zubat was gone.
Slowbro rubbed his eyes and looked around the cavern. Had it run off? Was it waiting in the shadows to attack again? Had he accidentally sat on it?
Then Slowbro looked to the ground, where the Pokéball was wiggling faintly. Then it went still.
"Uh oh," said Slowbro.
He had just captured the Zubat.