Beep. Beep. Beep. "Aw fuck..." Stan reached over and smacked his alarm, and heard his mother say from the hall, "Stan, get up, the Professor wants to see you."

"Fuck the Professor," Stan grumbled into his pillow, his eyes heavy. "Didn't give me a pokemon last week, why would he fork one over now. Ugh. Just more fucking lectures on nothing..." He finally heaved himself off his bed, stretching his arms far over his head. Another day. Another failure.

Pulling on some clothes, he ambled down the steps after tugging on his blue and red knit cap with a red poofball over his head.

"Morning, turd." His sister Shelly said at the table, leaning over her cereal. "Did you dream of touching pokeballs last night?"

"Shut up, Shelly," Stan muttered as he grabbed a poptart from the top of the fridge and walked out the door. He didn't want to deal with his dumbass sister.

He walked down the road for a few minutes before he noticed a crowd of people.

"Aw, fuck."

"Well if it isn't Marsh," A tall lanky black haired boy said, his blue dog-eared hat almost covering all of his hair. He stayed amazingly stoic as he walked over to Stan, and then held out a pokeball. "Battle?"

"Tucker, you know I don't have a fucking pokemon yet,"

"Wow. You say that every time." Craig mused out loud, looking at Stan curiously. "...are you just lazy?"

"Tucker, don't you have someone else to harrass." Stan crossed his arms over his chest, his face reddening. "I've got somewhere to go."

"Okay," Craig stood in his way, looking at his nails as people looked on.

"...um." Stan frowned, moving to step around Craig, but the other moved in front of him and the crowd snickered. "Dick, move."

"It's my road, take the one over there."

"That's a whole other mile. This one goes straight to the Labs."

"I didn't design the roads, so I don't care. This one's mine, fuck off."

Stan stared at the other, his blood boiling as he turned on his heel and started off back the way he came. He started down the road corner to the one he wanted to go on, and then turned and started walking through the field. "Fuck if I'm going to be late because he's a dick, I'm just going to take a short cut. Fuck him. I hate his fucking pokeball waving and going 'Ooooh I'm so awesome because I have pokemon' well not everyone has a fucking rich friend who can buy an army of pokemon..." He cursed as he padded his way through the high-grass, his hands pushing strands of tall plants out of the way, carefully maneuvering through.

That was when he heard a squeak. He looked down, and there was a patch of rattata babies, crying out because he stepped on one of their tails and frightened all of them in the process.

"...oh. Oh fuck."

He saw the grass moving in every direction, obviously stirring a whole pack of purple mouse-like rattatas to the rescue of the litter. And he didn't have anything to defend himself with besides his poptarts. "Oh shit!" He took off running, hearing them rustle after him as he darted through the field. It took ten minutes, but he finally yanked open the door to the labs, his feet sore and his face red. "Fucking - Fucking Tucker..."

"Tucker? What, did he fuck you in the ass again because you're a lazy good for nothing that never is on time? I said an hour ago, you were supposed to clean the test cages. I've got shit up to my ears." Professor Garrison berated Stan as he walked towards him, decked out in a white lab coat and purple pants. "That's a whole hour you've wasted. What were you doing, masturbating? Is that why your face is red?"

"I hate you," Stan muttered under his breath, his hands on his knees as he breathed heavily. Finally working up the courage out of irritation, he shot back, "Look, I haven't shittalked to you once and you do it to me all the time. Are you going to fucking give me a pokemon or are you going to keep making me do all your housework."

"Wow, look who's balls finally descended." Professor Garrison said with a hand wave, his eyes rolling. "Okay, I'll give you a pokemon. Come over here."

"Wait, you're serious?" Stan asked, his voice faltering. "You're going to give me-"

"Yeah, I'm going to give you a pokemon. Don't pass out Marsh, you've already lost a lot of blood while on that life-long period of yours." They walked over to the lab entrance, and Garrison picked up a pokeball and shoved it at Stan's chest. "There."

"What is it?" Stan looked at the pokeball, confused.

"I don't know, some sort of electric rat. You can use that piece of shit indexer over there too if you want to figure out what the rat's called. It's supposed to give out volts but it does shit to power my vibrator, and what do I need a rat around for if it doesn't do anything. Take it."

"...wow, really?" He said awkwardly, looking at the ball like it was a diamond.

"Marsh, if you ask me again, I'm going to take it and shove it up yo-"

"Okay, well, I'm going to go...um, train then." He said quickly, turning to leave.

"Wait, you don't want to do that? It sounds sort of fun now that I think about it. I haven't had a good ass to shove anything up in awhil-"

"No thanks Professor Garrison, bye." Stan walked quickly out the door, a disturbed look on his face as he hugged the pokeball to his chest.

He was going to fucking own Tucker. Yeah.