Pokémon: UnHappiny Buneary Trail, a pokémon fanfic

Pokémon: Un-Happiny Buneary Trail! / Kimball - 19

Approx. 5,593 Word Count

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Un-Happiny Buneary Trail!

Keith E. Kimball

'Ahhh,' Duplica Harrison thought , 'Now this is the life.'

The pretty young woman was sunning herself on a bench in the park, savoring her ice cream cone simultaneously. Vanilla, topped with little pickles. It was stereotypical of her, she knew, but she just couldn't help it. Duplica was now in the sixth month of her first pregnancy and determined to enjoy the remaining weeks as much as she could. She refused to be bothered by the fact that her bright yellow blouse wasn't quite covering the bulge of her increasingly heavy womb anymore; allowing the breeze to tickle the bare skin between the blouse and her green stretch pants.

Instead she focused on the fact that she finally had breasts. And hips too. Unlike her best friend, Misty Williams, Duplica had not been a late bloomer. Duplica hadn't bloomed at all before now. Although she still wasn't going to be mistaken for the legendarily voluptuous Lorelei, Duplica mused, she would never get away with taking all the skinny young male parts in a stage production again.

Oh, how she missed the stage. She had first met her husband long ago; when she was still owner and manager of her pride and joy: The House of Imitaé. Her parents had scrimped and saved along with Duplica so, at the tender age of twelve, she could buy the old hotel outside Celadon City. She'd quickly refurbished and renamed it, then caught a Ditto to assist her in stage shows. Between her new Pokémon and her stage, Duplica was well on her way to accomplishing her life-long goal of being a Ditto Master.

Problems had cropped up immediately. Her new Ditto hadn't quite mastered its ability to Transform into other Pokémon yet. Audiences didn't settle for sloppy transformations in her act. For all her own skill at imitation and magic tricks, Duplica had been swiftly going bankrupt. But what could she do? She worked with Ditto tirelessly to improve its Transform ability. It still made for an imperfect imitation, but that was the thing about Ditto; her friend always did that. What was she supposed to do; just leave Ditto out in the cold? At least she knew who to trust when the chips were down.

Only the accidental intervention of that weird Team Rocket couple following Brock around back then had inspired Ditto to get it right and saved the House of Imitaé from liquidation.

Back then, at least. Brock and her other new friends, Ash and Misty, had left now that Duplica had the money rolling in. She kept it up for several years, even seeing Brock again once or twice during his continuing Pokémon journey. But with internet video streaming, home movie mailbox delivery, and other stay-at-home ways of bringing so much entertainment coming to the fore, fewer and fewer people physically came to the House of Imitaé for a show. And Duplica's act depended heavily on people and Pokémon to imitate in the audience.

To her everlasting regret, Duplica had lost the House of Imitaé after all.

Just as Brock had given up his own wandering ways and returned to his own family heirloom, the Pewter City Pokémon Gym, to settle down. Now at the ripe old age of twenty-five, Duplica had been chased across the countryside by a string of failed jobs to Pewter City. She came to the Gym that day hoping for work as a additional instructor. Although, come to think of it, she herself might've been the only girl she had never seen Brock hit on over the years, the sparks had flown instantly at that meeting.

Perhaps, compared to her loving marriage and pregnancy, losing the House of Imitaé was a void in her life she just might fill. Perhaps.

Absently, her free hand rubbed the scar on her midriff's side. She could hardly feel it anymore and hoped it wasn't visible. Although she was one of the very lucky few who did not have morning sickness at all, she seemed to have just about everything else that could go wrong so far. The most notable incident, and the origin of her scar, was the failure of her kidney. Her new kidney had been transplanted exactly three weeks ago; she had actually been out of the hospital for just one. Endless tests confirmed her own impression that the kidney was working out just fine. Duplica enjoyed putting it to further test by eating another pickle.

Her husband, clad in a simple shirt and jeans, was returning to their bench with his own ice cream cone. Duplica took a second to admire the way her hubby's massive, muscular frame filled out his mundane outfit. She'd better relax, she decided; that was how she'd ended up pregnant in the first place. Brock liked pickles too but on his burgers, not his ice cream, so he politely declined when Duplica offered. Instead Brock's attention was caught by the beep of his Pokégear phone. When he saw the name attached to the caller ID, Brock lit up with joy. He added for her benefit, "Hey, it's Ash!"

"About time," Duplica snorted back, "We've been leaving messages for days."

His hands full of phone and ice cream, Brock put the phone down in his lap. Duplica immediately forgot her ire as she leaned forward to see the tiny screen. The movement brought Duplica's huge pompom hair buns into her much taller husband's face, making him sneeze. "Sorry," she added.

His free hand tucked her bun behind his shoulder, clearing the way for both Harrisons to see as the screen filled with Ash Ketchum's face. "Hey guys!" the athletic young man chirped, "Look who Misty and I have with us!"

Ash stepped back to allow his mother, Delia, at the camera instead. At the sight of her, Duplica broke into an ear-to-ear smile. Brock whooped with joy, "Hey, Mrs. Ketchum! You're all right!"

"Of course I'm all right, dear," Delia replied, briefly pulling her son back into the shot with a warm hug, "Thanks to my talented family of Pokémon trainers. And how many times do I have to tell you to call me Delia? You're making me feel old, Brock!"

Brock immediately blushed and mumbled an apology. Duplica threw him a glance; Brock shook his head 'no' very softly. Duplica sighed just as subtly. Their friends, Delia included, doubtless figured out that Brock was very affectionate toward Delia because she was the mother he'd never had growing up. What none of their friends knew, and Brock had just forbidden Duplica to reveal yet again, was the truth behind what their friends thought they knew about Brock's birth mother…

Duplica swallowed her misgivings once more, trying not to let the bitter taste it left her show through her genuine joy at Delia's safety. "When we couldn't get ahold of Ash or Misty, we had a feeling they were finally off to save the day," Duplica crowed, "I'm glad to see we were right. Hey, you guys are back in Pallet Town, right?" Delia nodded over the line. Duplica continued, "Hey, why don't we come out and see you? It's been forever since all of us have gotten together."

Delia's eyebrows raised quizzically, "Are you sure you're up to it, dear?"

"Sure," Duplica replied, snatching the Pokégear up. She held the device out and down, giving her callers a good look at her distended belly, saying, "I'm not that far along yet. And I'm going stir-crazy at home too! Let's do it, honey, what do you say?" She turned an imploring gaze onto Brock as she gave him his Pokégear back. Duplica knew her friends claimed they could never see the whites of Brock's eyes, much less his irises or pupils because of his perpetual squint and thick, bushy eyebrows. Duplica always replied, "What squint?"

It took all of Brock's resolve to frown mightily in the face of her plea. "It's not Monica, it's your kidney," he reminded her sternly, "You're not supposed to travel for another week yet. You can't miss your check-up tomorrow either."

"Oh, poop," Duplica settled into a deep funk, finishing her ice cream more out of irritation that it was now melting down her arm than any further pleasure in it.

Delia wanted to know, "Who's Monica?"

Brock winked and patted his grumpy wife's belly gently for emphasis, "This little lady right here. Or should I say in here?"

Delia squealed with girlish delight, "It's a girl! And you've named her already! Oh, how sweet! Don't worry, dears, we'll come out and see you! We'll just-what?" She broke off to an unfamiliar male voice speaking too softly for the camera to pick up. That got Duplica's attention. Looking very frustrated, Delia returned her own attention to the Harrisons. "Yes, yes," she said just as much for their ears as the unknown speaker's, "I'm sorry, my friends. I'm going into protective custody until Lawrence III is behind bars. Looks like I'm grounded. Huh, it's high school all over again. Could you please send Mimey back home to me through the wireless link?"

Duplica now had both arms free to cross gloomily over her chest as she relapsed back into her funk. Brock replied, "Of course, Mrs.-Delia. You're at home?" The older woman nodded; Brock tried to include her and Duplica in his reply. "Great; give me a couple of minutes to get back home myself and grab Mimey. He'll sure be glad to see you; I hope you don't mind that we borrowed your Pokémon while you were out." Receiving Delia's thanks and farewell, Brock shut the phone off before turning his full attention back to his wife. "It won't take long, sweetheart. I'll be back in fifteen minutes, tops, unless you want to leave the park early."

Duplica, still in the grip of her wildly fluctuating hormones, refused to look at him.

Realizing that was the only response he was going to get, Brock sighed. "Okay, I'll leave Chansey here just in case you need anything." Finishing off his own ice cream, Brock released the human-sized, egg-shaped Pokémon before leaving. The proudly pink Chansey's legs were too short to allow her to sit easily under most circumstances anyway; the park bench was definitely too high for her. Chansey settled onto the grass beside Duplica instead as Brock took his leave. "Chansey?" her husband's Pokémon inquired softly, indicating the ice cream vendor's cart just a few yards away.

The woman was already kicking herself inwardly for being such a poopyhead. Would this roller coaster ride of emotions last the rest of her pregnancy? She hoped not but feared she knew the answer already. Duplica sighed at herself, "No, I'm okay, Chansey. Thanks for asking. And putting up with me." She shared a quick hug with her Pokémon friend; neither could fit their arms completely around the other. In Chansey's case, this was due to short arms. In Duplica's, the cause was the roundness of her hug partner. Although Duplica also feared nobody would be able to fit their arms around her in another month either.

Nearby, the bushes leading out of the park and into the forest proper rustled before them. Distracted, Duplica broke the hug just as another living pink egg of a Pokémon hopped out of the foliage. Except this one was no larger than a newborn baby. Duplica gushed, "A Happiny! Aw, she's adorable!" She paused, turning to her Pokémon friend, "Hey, that's how you started out, isn't it? Wow, what are the odds?"

Chansey was more concerned with the look on the little stranger's face. "Chan-Chansey!" she pointed out, figuratively and literally. Duplica leapt to her feet as she too saw the tears flowing freely down Happiny's tiny face. "Oh, no! C'mere, sweetheart! Tell me what happened; I'll make it all better!" Duplica cried. She managed, with some difficulty, to kneel and be ready to catch Happiny as the latter began running across the park toward her.

Another rustle in the bushes; this time a pudgy young human appeared. The redhead quickly scanned the park; his face lit up at the sight of Happiny. But it wasn't the joyous look of somebody finding their lost Pokémon; it was a far more sinister smirk that made Duplica's blood run cold. "Finally!" the teenager barked. A couple of steps in his much longer stride and the boy scooped up Happiny, despite her struggles, long before the little creature could reach Duplica.

By this time Duplica had returned to her feet. "Hey, you!" she challenged angrily, "Let that Pokémon go!" Chansey stepped up beside her, reinforcing her with angry cries of her own.

Neither a pregnant woman nor a walking egg of a Pokémon impressed the teen. Laughing cruelly, he simply tucked Happiny beneath his arm before turning back from whence he came. The back of his leather jacket, Duplica noted, had a picture of a naked woman's silhouette laying on a billiard table. Beneath that lay the name of the Bank Shot Biker Gang.

Which didn't mean Duplica was going to just let him walk away from her like that. With Chansey hot on her heels, she dashed across the park and into the forest. The teenager wasn't even trying to be subtle; the only obstacle to hearing him crash through the brush was the noise Duplica herself was making as she battered her way along in pursuit.

Unfortunately, her body betrayed her. More than fit enough for a little run under normal circumstances, the young woman hadn't been allowed to exercise after her recent discharge from the hospital; even if she had felt like it. Throw in the extra weight she was carrying and Duplica was huffing and puffing fit to blow her house down after just two minutes. She was forced to stop and hold herself up against a tree. Chansey was torn; stay with her mistress or help the child Pokémon?

The resourceful Duplica solved the dilemma for her. Duplica somehow got out, "Ditto! *wheeze* I choose *gasp* you!" She didn't have the wind to actually reach and throw her Pokéball yet; Ditto used its own internal safety catch to come out now that it had been called for. Duplica managed to point and bring her cute little bag of pink protoplasm's attention to a wild Pokémon nearby. "Ditto *whew*, use Transform!"

Ditto rearranged its extremely malleable body into an exact duplicate of the Pidgey sitting in the tree. That Pidgey, surprised at seeing its sudden twin, squawked into flight. Duplica, finally getting some wind back into her sails, commanded, "Now, follow that boy! Don't let him out of your sight!"

Her Pokémon blew its disguise by chirping, "Ditto!", in its own voice instead of imitating the Pidgey that far. It could have done better if needed to, nowadays, but it just didn't bother since it wasn't performing on stage. With just another of the forest's countless Pidgeys wheeling overhead, the boy didn't suspect he was being followed at all. Duplica and Chansey easily picked Ditto out as the only Flying-Type who maintained a straight flight path at all times.

Not that the duo needed it as they drew closer to what had to be the source of the disturbance. The sound of several very young voices raised in fearful cries was almost drowned out by angry adults shouting back. Duplica and Chansey burst into a large clearing.

At one end lay a brightly colored tent adorned with polka dots, balloons, and even a piñata. At the other lay the Bank Shot Gang's collection of fierce, powerful motorcycles. The gang members themselves, looking just as cold and hard as their black-and-chrome machines in their pale shirts, dirty jeans, and black jackets, looked around the redhead returning with Happiny to spy the newcomers. Strewn all around the bikers were little children, screaming madly at the adults physically stealing their small, cute Pokémon right before their very eyes.

The childrens' sole defender was a young woman dressed as a clown. What had to be the Bank Shot leader was still poised over her where he'd punched the clown, knocking her unconscious to the ground. Even as Duplica's eyes widened, a Buneary hopped high over the clown to kick both big feet into the biker's chest. His only response was to swat the interfering Pokémon away. Instantly a Torchic took Buneary's place, her tiny beak lighting up for an upcoming Ember Attack. The biker laughed and grabbed a little girl, shoving her in front of him. Torchic swallowed the shot rather than burn her; Buneary glared daggers from her spot on the ground nearby.

Duplica's blood boiled so fast that steam nearly shot out of her ears. "Hey, big man!" she bellowed, "Want to try picking on someone your own size!"

The man slowly turned; then stepped to the edge of the crowd to get a good look at her. Although he released his little hostage right away, Torchic and Buneary turned to trying to revive their mistress rather than start a fight in the middle of the crowd. Despite herself, Duplica gulped; this man was as tall as her husband if not taller. He'd never win a bodybuilding contest like Brock despite his thickly muscular arms and legs; the biker had too much of a beer belly hanging over his wide belt. Which sort of made him more of a combination of Duplica and Brock at the moment. The leader's goatee slide sideways into a smirk across his otherwise hairless face; he didn't even have eyebrows to lighten the severity of his expression.

In a deep, gravelly voice, the big man intoned, "Turn around and walk away, Miss Preggers. You didn't see nuthin'." Immediately his voice was drowned out by the children shrieking for help. Some ran toward her for protection; some kept futilely hitting and shoving at the older men and women still clutching their Pokémon. The bikers responded by shoving the children away angrily.

Duplica's nimble mind hatched a plan in an instant. She called on her own formidable imitation skills; slouching over and screwing up her face into an instantly recognizable caricature of the big man across from her. She added in a suddenly deep voice, "What's duh matter? Ya 'fraid of a little ol' preggers?"

All around him, the entire gang burst into laughter. Even the big man's biker babe, pointing and chuckling, "She knows you so well already, Cue Ball!"

It was the biker babe's turn to be shoved roughly to the ground. She glared just as balefully as Buneary had; her humor suddenly forgotten. Cue Ball ignored her as he stepped over her, roaring, "Shaddap!" to the rest of the gang.

Duplica took advantage of the resulting silence to command in her normal voice, "Chansey, get the kids out of the way. Look out for 'em." Nodding, Chansey gathered up the children clinging to herself and Duplica as gently as she could. But both the Pokémon and Duplica knew there were still quite a few young ones in the middle of the gang. Although they weren't hostages yet, they were still in the line of fire.

So Duplica returned to her irritating Cue Ball impression as she walked to her left across the edge of the clearing. "Well, well, tough guy; can't find and catch yer own Pokémon in the wild, huh? Gotta steal little chilluns'." She hid her joy when her ploy worked; Cue Ball paralleled her moves by stepping out of the crowd and to his left, which established a clear Pokémon battlefield between them. It was a great start.

Still, she'd need to goad the entire gang further. Still throwing Cue Ball's own voice back at him, Duplica observed casually, "Guess the Bank Shot boys ain't as nice as some bikers I've heard of. Them, they give out Christmas presents n' do charity stuff for little kids; they got honor. Yep, youse Bank Shots must be pretty hard-up to not even pick somebody who kin fight back for their Pokémon."

Cue Ball literally spat on the ground before replying, "What do ya know 'bout a biker's honor, housewife?"

Never letting up on her mockery, Duplica responded, "I know ya can't turn down two things: a Pokémon battle or a challenge for leadership. An' ya know whut? I'm givin' ya both. Right here, right now, if ya got th' stones for it."

The Bank Shot gang actually gasped at her audacity, looking incredulously back and forth between Duplica and Cue Ball.

Cue Ball laughed. It was a sound lacking in many qualities, such as mercy and kindness, while being quite full of other things like harshness and cruelty. Not to mention good old-fashioned mockery. "You? Ride wit' my boys? Can ya even fit inna the pants?"

In Cue Ball's voice, Duplica returned, "Better than you ever could, big boy." She jammed her fists deep into her pockets and pushed them forward enough to suggest a large pair of circular objects between her legs. The gesture was not lost on the Bank Shot gang, who whooped and hollered with a mixture of appreciation and anxiety.

Cue Ball was not amused.

Between clenched teeth, he ground out, "We both know ya don't want me gang. Name yer terms for a Pokémon battle or so help me, I'll grease you maself right now."

Duplica finally relinquished her impression to reply calmly, "Double Battle; just two Pokémon each. No substitutions or time limit. If I win, you leave the kids and their Pokémon and get away free. If you win, you still have a Get Out of Jail Free pass, still leave the kids and their Pokémon-but you get my Pokémon when you go."

Murmurs swept the biker gang at her words; even the terrified children stifled their cries, tears still wet, so they wouldn't miss what happened next. Cue Ball glanced over to assess the situation. Duplica dared glance across the crowd herself; it seemed the group was leaning in her favor. Her opinion was confirmed when a tall, skinny man stepped forward slightly. "Cue Ball…stealin' from little kids anyways…how'd we sink so low?"

"Shaddap," Cue Ball repeated himself, "Desperate times call fer desperate measures, Pockets. If yer so concerned, why don't cha referee? That'll keep yer yap shut." Turning back to Duplica, Cue Ball added, "Okay, Miss Preggers, yer on."

Duplica nodded as Pockets stepped forward to a halfway point on their makeshift battlefield. To Duplica's surprise, the skinny man used the red and green bandannas on his head for referee's flags. "No substitutions," Pockets reminded one and all loudly, "Both trainers call out der Pokémon now!"

Duplica inclined her head back toward some nearby branches first. "Ditto!" she called the pretend Pidgey as she reached for another Pokéball on her belt. It was, in fact, the only other Pokéball on her belt. Duplica was about to put the only Pokémon she had in the whole wide world into the battle. The young wife couldn't send in her husband's Chansey even if she wanted to; the Normal-Type was still guarding the children.

She continued, "Go, Mini-Dit! I choose you!" A Pokémon outwardly no different from her other Ditto in its natural form, hence Mini-Dit needing a nickname, appeared from Duplica's thrown Pokéball. Any of the viewers still wondering about what the nickname meant would figure it out in a moment. With 'Pidgey' and Mini-Dit now before her, Duplica's lineup was complete; but Pockets waved the red bandanna this time.

He said, "Dis ain't no League match; but normal League rules says all Dittos have ta be in their natural state when da match begins." Duplica nodded, "Of course. Ditto, transform back to normal."

But before her Pokémon could, Cue Ball himself called out, "Naw, man, let 'er Pokémon stay as it is. I don't mind." The gang leader didn't even try to hide his snide grin; he was so certain that Ditto being a Pidgey would give him an automatic Pokémon type advantage. And that Duplica would not dare try to find out. Which just showed how little Cue Ball knew her. When Pockets raised an inquiring eyebrow to her, Duplica replied casually, "If my opponent doesn't mind, then I'm good." Pockets waved the green bandanna to seal the legality of the deal.

Cue Ball sent out his Skarmory and Magcargo. The big Steel-Type bird's inner red wings made a blood-hued contrast against the nearly metallic sheen of the rest of Skarmory's feathers. Magcargo, meanwhile, could not contain his eagerness for battle; little gouts of flame erupted from the big slug's nautilus-shaped shell on his back. Both Pokémon stepped up to their own marks, Skarmory landing to do so. Pockets gave them the seal of approval as well.

Then the gangly biker waved his green bandanna one more time. "Battle, begin!"

Cue Ball smirked; this was going to be so easy he wouldn't enjoy it. Almost. "Magcargo, Rock Slide! Skarmory, stay outta da way n' get yer Sky Attack ready!" At his master's bidding, Skarmory flapped into the skies and focused his power. A yellow aura of power blazed to life all along Skarmory's flanks, growing steadily in brightness and power as the time to unleash Sky Attack quickly grew near. Magcargo's shell was actually bits of the Pokémon's skin that had cooled enough to harden upon contact with air; Magcargo sucking in a deep breath was enough to send fresh bursts of skin right through his own shell. A few puffing breaths sent multiple blobs from those new boils rising, falling, and also hardening into a Rock Slide in mid-air as the attack crossed the battlefield.

Duplica was ready, thanks to her photographic memory's command of all the possible attacks of any Pokémon her Dittos could transform into. "Mini-Dit, use Transform to become Skarmory and dodge with Agility! Ditto, use Mirror Move! Give Cue Ball a taste of his own medicine!" Mini-Dit earned its nickname by becoming a perfect imitation of Skarmory-in miniature. Barely as tall as Duplica's other Ditto, Mini-Dit launched into the air. With Agility speeding up his nimble wings, Mini-Dit easily whipped in and around Magcargo's Rock Slide.

Ditto, as ordered, had other ideas. It remained on the ground to meet the oncoming attack. Its sharp eyes never moved from the falling rain of rocks; it ran to meet them. Dashing back and forth, Ditto's little faux wings caught and then returned the Rock Slide right back to its maker in a perfect Mirror Move. All that running left Ditto panting; but it was worth it.

Ironically it was the real Skarmory, still focusing his Sky Attack, who moved even more sluggishly than his slug of a partner to dodge the Rock Slide. The rocks pummeled away at Skarmory's tough hide, knocking the powerful Pokémon from the skies. Before Cue Ball's unbelieving eyes, Skarmory sagged into unconsciousness; that Sky Attack never completed. As Pockets called out Skarmory's defeat, the Rock Slide continued raining down on Magcargo as well. His brittle shell shattered instantly under the pressure but Magcargo rallied; the shell regrew itself once the assault ended. Magcargo straightened up, ready to continue.

Cue Ball roared, "Don't let this preggers pantywaist do this ta us, Magcargo! Blow her wanna-be Skarmory away wit' Flamethrower!"

Duplica responded, "Mini-Dit, use Mimic! I'll bet that Magcargo knows Earthquake; let 'em have it! Ditto, distract Magcargo with Quick Attack!"

As the attack's name implied, Ditto-sans-Pidgey had no trouble rocketing across the battlefield and slamming into Magcargo. Magcargo probably wouldn't have even noticed the blow thanks to his strong type resistance if Ditto hadn't hit him right in the face. Magcargo blinked and that was all as Ditto flapped back into the air. It was enough for Mini-Dit to close in, however; Magcargo's Flamethrower was impressive but too slow to hit Mini-Dit dancing all around him at that range. All Magcargo did was start a few small brush fires. Mini-Dit, for its part, used the powers of Mimic to divine how to do Earthquake from the depths of Magcargo's own psyche. The disguised Pokémon slammed down atop Magcargo and got the Rock- and Fire-Type all shook up, baby.

It was a double elemental weakness; Magcargo slumped instantly. Cue Ball's mouth hung open down to his kneecaps as Pockets waved the red flag. Pockets added, "Cue Ball is out of useable Pokémon! Da winner is…uh, hey, toots, what's yer name, anyway?"

With her Pokémon returned to her side, she put her fists on her hips to stand tall and proudly call out, "Duplica Harrison! That's Mrs. Gym Leader of Pewter City to you!"

The Bank Shot gang joined the children in gasping. A few of the little girls even struck up similar poses, beaming at their savior.

Duplica added, "Quick, Mini-Dit and Ditto! Use Whirlwind to put out those fires that Magcargo started!" As her Pokémon did so, Duplica threw a warning glare to Cue Ball across the way. Would he welsh out on their deal-?

Cue Ball actually glanced at his gang once more; they were already handing back the stolen Pokémon to their rightful owners. He couldn't pull a last-minute switch even if he wanted to. And he did. Cue Ball had to settle for grumbling to her, "Dittos, Mirror Moves, and Mimic. Ya like bein' a regular little copycat, don't cha?"

"It works," Duplica replied shortly.

As the bikers saddled up, several of the kids now crowding around Duplica and Chansey charged her with calling the police. "No," she responded, "I gave my word of honor. They kept theirs; Cue Ball didn't want to but he did. I have to keep mine." The children groaned with disappointment. The Bank Shot Gang, more than a few of them casting glances over their shoulders, roared off noisily down the trail and deeper into the forest.

Cue Ball did not gratify Duplica with a parting shot; outwardly at least. Inside, he seethed. The Pewter City Pokémon Gym, then. He'd be seeing Miss Preggers again soon. Real soon.

Back in the clearing, a little boy in the front of the pack held up his Happiny to Duplica at the wiggling Pokémon's request. Duplica chirped, "Oh! Aren't you the Happiny that led me here? You were very brave, going for help like that!" It was hard to see the little living Easter egg's blush against her pink skin; but Happiny blushed so deeply it was just possible.

Duplica led Chansey over to the unfortunate clown. Buneary and Torchic, crestfallen, stepped away from their mistress with little hope. A little bit of Chansey's healing touch, via the move known as Softboiled, and the young woman was revived. She sat up, clutching her head and moaning, "Oh…the kids! The Pokémon!" Both her Pokémon jumped into the clown's arms, squealing thanks to their rescuers. Duplica quickly filled the clown in, whose name turned out to be Candy. As Duplica had suspected, the Bank Shots had crashed a private birthday party. Albeit one with an Easter theme quite a few months ahead of time. Candy shrugged, "You give the customer what they want."

Duplica added, "And in this case, they want a party! Right, kids?" She threw up her own arms to join the children in an enthusiastic cry. Then all turned back to Candy, who turned to her tent with the intention of repairing her clown makeup before continuing.

The sight of the demolished tent let everyone know she'd need to repair a lot more than that. Candy raced over, her trembling voice and wide eyes picking up bits of the devastation only to let them slip back between her fingers. "Oh no," she moaned at each piece of her work destroyed, "my costumes…my props…oh, Buneary, Torchic; what will we do now?"

Duplica's eyes turned from sorrow to hopeful at her sudden thought. "Props, you say? Costumes?" she repeated. Candy nodded dully. Duplica whipped out her own Pokégear, accidentally intercepting her husband's incoming call. Brock began, "Honey, where are you? I've been-"

Duplica cut him off firmly but politely. "Baby, I've got an entertainment emergency here. I need you to go back to the gym; down to storage. Get exactly the stuff from exactly the bins I'm going to tell you about; no, write it down. Your memory's not as good as mine." As Duplica began giving a long list to her hubby, Candy studied her benefactor's face momentarily. Something finally clicked for the clown; she gasped in shock. "You're Duplica the Amazing! From the House of Imitaé!" Candy realized out loud, "Oh my gosh, you're the one who inspired me! I didn't recognize you; you're all grown up! Oh, I can't believe it! Can I get your autograph?"

"I'll do better than that," Duplica winked, "I'll help you put on a show these kids will never forget!"

And, with Brock's help, both women did.

Although Brock certainly resented how he had to wear the Easter egg costume. It just wasn't flattering to his muscles. It didn't help that Duplica made certain he was easily visible in the big curtain call picture her automatic camera took at the end.

The End

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