I read an article once that outlined the most difficult Pokémon for humans to catch and train. There were the ones you'd figure, like Charizard and Druddigon. Then there were ones you wouldn't think about, like Ditto, Audino, and Corsola. The one that really threw me was Raichu. When I read what was written below the pen-sketch of a haggard-looking Raichu, I almost laughed. "Raichu have been tamed only a few times." the article said. "This Pokemon is aggressive and unpredictable. The long tail attracts lightning and static, causing a buildup that heats the blood and brain. As a result, this species is prone to sudden-onset rabies."

Rabies? Ha! As for the rest of that, I'd hardly call myself aggressive, and that picture is totally unflattering. I mean, sure, I've had my share of fights, but that can be said for most Pokémon, in my experience. My name is Teri, and I AM a Raichu. I'm nothing like what the book says, although my roommate might disagree. I'm nice; I get along with other Pokémon all the time. Well, except for kids. Never really got along with kids at all. I mean, this one time, I was talking to this Beautifly while picking berries, and I picked a big red one, and it turned out to be a Wurmple: the lady's kid. She still never lets me hear the end of it.

But I digress. I'm just not a kid person. I'm a neat freak, impatient, and a regular at the local bar. There isn't room in my life for much, and kids just don't make the cut. Which brings me to my story. I'll start the day before the madness, when life was as normal as could be...

Ten o'clock

I woke up to the sunlight streaming through a crack in the wall, hitting my eye directly. I sat up and stretched. There's not much space in my room, but I like it cozy. Most Raichu live in or around trees, but I have made my home in a rocky hollow by a river. A hole in the ground, and I love it. My roommate and I spent a month converting it into a small, modern apartment two years ago. It has two bedrooms, a front-cave, and a room I use as a kitchen. I turned around to straighten my bed- a fluffy lump made from fur and pine needles- and squeezed out of my room and out of the burrow.

It was warm out but not hot like it had been a few weeks ago. The burrow is in a clearing surrounded on two sides by ancient trees, and by the river on a third. The fourth direction was a path deeper into the forest. I spent some time washing my face and paws in the water, and sat down to meditate. I got the idea from a Meditite, and just sitting still for half an hour every morning helps to clear my mind and awaken fully. I haven't gone a morning without it in a long time.

Eleven o'clock

I crept into the burrow, making sure to be painstakingly quiet. Time to wake up my roommate- always an eventful task.

Into the second bedroom I crawled. The other room is similar to mine: round, bland, with a fluff bed and a crack in the wall that served as a window. The main difference was that this room looked like it had been hit with a Whirlwind that would turn a Fearow green with envy. The floor was littered with pieces of bedding and fur, along with countless bones and feathers from the occasional midnight snack. In the middle of the wreckage a lump snored under the cover of the bedding.

I sat and thought a moment on how to rouse the late sleeper. Ice-cold water? Done it before. Hire an Exploud? Nah, too expensive. Earthquake? Eh, let's just go with the usual wake-up routine.

I raised my tail a tiny bit and focused on the target. A tiny jolt of electricity jumped down suddenly with a zzzzZAP, and a muffled shriek was heard. Up from the now-charred pile of pine needles arose a pretty navy-and-tan face. The Quilava yawned, exposing two rows of 35 small perfect teeth. She opened her glittery eyes to glare at me, and greeted me with her usual good graces regarding my pranks.

"I hate you sooooo much."

I laughed and nudged her shoulder. "Good morning to you too, Dana."

She smiled begrudgingly, and we left the room together. Dana has been my best friend since what seems like forever. We met as Pikachu and Cyndaquil, and lived practically conjoined for years. I was there when she evolved and vice versa. She's brave, loyal, funny, honest and genuine. She's also messy, vain, self-centered, and dumb as a brick, but we balance each other out that way.

I was about to grab the food from the storage before Dana remarked, "Oh, by the way... we're out of food."

I gaped. "What? We can't be! We had food last... night... Dana..."

She put her ears back sheepishly. "I may have had a midnight snack."

"DANA..."

"Or two... or three..."

"Damn it Dana! Now we have to go hunting again!"

The fire-type shrugged. "Fine by me."

Noon

I rolled my eyes and followed her outside. She went to a shady spot by the river's edge and I went into the woods with a basket made from a Vullaby's eggshell to gather berries. It was an easy job; there were bushes full to bursting with berries all over these woods. You just had to know where to look. I found a clump of Oran bushes – Dana's favorite – and emptied a couple of the branches. My favorite berry has always been the spicy Razz, but they weren't in season this time of year, and the young fruits were still an unappetizing green. I grabbed a few medicinal berries as well – Cheri for paralysis (more a problem for Dana than me), Chesto for sleep (a fun way to wake up a lazy roommate), and Pecha for poison (the Beedrill in this area sometimes caused a problem, and these were a great thing to have on paw anyway). When the basket was full enough for about three days of Dana's bottomless-pit stomach, I puttered around for a while, collecting some small herbs and a few decidedly pretty pine cones, before hoofing it back to the clearing. Dana was waiting for me there with a small pile of fat Remoraids, which was great because by this time I was pretty hungry. I helped her pull the pile of fish into the den and we sat down to eat.

I made sure to put exactly two six-inch-long fish in my spot and 20 berries in a pile exactly 4 inches in circumference. Dana stuck her face in and pulled out a mouthful of fish and scooped over a messy pile of berries. I ate my fish raw and piece-by-piece; Dana flame-grilled hers and ate them almost whole. She finished her fish before digging into the berries; I made sure to take a bite of fish, then eat a berry. Fish, berry, fish, berry, fish, berry. I like everything to be in order. Everything the same. It helps put my mind at ease.

"Shoe, ish fwee goin' incoo gowntown togay?" Dana asked through a mouthful of mashed food.

I made sure to swallow before responding. "Sure."

Downtown is the name the Pokémon of the forest ended up giving to this particular area where lots of wild Pokémon come to hang out. On the weekends, some humans called Trainers come to catch some of us for fighting with. Most of them are pretty bad, and the only time I've ever gotten cornered by one I was able to take out his rather stupid Raticate with Brick Break, an attack I pride myself on. Dana was almost caught once. The human had a Luxray who was pretty strong, but she ran from the fight.

Three o'clock

We left after cleaning up and storing the food. Downtown was pretty packed that day, and a lot of Pokémon were battling. It wasn't anything serious, just friendly competition. It's a pastime for most Pokémon, and it's normally a lot of fun. Just as Dana and I were about to sit down and watch a mini-showdown between a small Spearow and a Marill, we were almost bowled over by a sort-of-friend of ours, Barb the Nidorina. She looked even more flighty and excited than usual, and when she spoke, the words tumbled out in short, high-pitched yelps.

"Teri! Dana! You'll never! Believe! What's going on! Two guys! Are fighting! Right in the middle! Of Barry's! I think it's serious!"

I bristled. Like I said, wild Pokémon fight all the time. Normally though, it's just competition for bragging rights and for leveling up and such. But a serious fight is scary. Dana and I galloped after the nervous Nidorina down to Barry's Bar and Drinks, a classy place under an old sequoia tree owned and run by a moustachioed old Sandshrew named Barry. The bar was very humanesque, with live music most nights, bar stools that spun, and the best alcohol in the region. I spent most of my evenings there, and Barry and I were good friends. I hoped they hadn't wrecked the place.

The area around the tree was crowded. I shoved past a gaggle of squash-faced Makuhita and squeezed my way inside. Over near the Karaoke area a crowd surrounded two very loud and obviously intoxicated Pokemon. One was a Scolipede and the other was a Mamoswine. From what I could hear of their slurred argument, the conflict was over either a spilled drink, or how potatoes could think. Both Pokémon were howling various threats and insults at each other; the Scolipede continued to question the Mamoswine's sexual orientation, while said Mamoswine insisted that the Scolipede's mother could verify that he was indeed good with the ladies.

At one point the Scolipede seemed to have had enough and swung at the Mamoswine, hitting him with a Poison Jab. The large Ice-type roared and retaliated by Slamming the Scolipede with his large trunk. It looked like a real fight was about to break out. The Scolipede lunged forward, and just as he was about to hit the two of them were abruptly obscured in an off-white mist. It cleared after a moment of commotion to reveal both Pokémon passed out on the floor. At that moment I recognized Twist in the background – the pub's resident bouncer and the biggest freakin' Whimsicott you ever did see. He had used Spore to knock out the brawlers, and proceeded to drag them outside.

It looked like the action was over, and the crowds disappeared with Twist. I made my way over to the bar. Barry was standing behind it, placidly wiping down a glass with an old dish rag, and when I climbed up onto a stool he looked up and smiled.

"Hey there, Teri-gal, what can I get my favorite little barfly?" He's the only one who can get away with talking to me like that. I've known him for... forever, ever since I was a Pikachu. I knew Barry even before I knew Dana, and he's sort of an uncle to me, if not the father figure I never had growing up. I call him Uncle Barry sometimes. He pretends to hate it.

I hopped up on a stool and checked the time. Five o' clock, yes. Waving over Dana, who had just managed to squeeze her way in, I turned to Barry and pointed at the Fire-type.

"The usual again?" Barry guessed.

I nodded. "Every time, Bar. Every time."

Something I will tell you about Barry's is that any human who might go in there would not recognize any of the drinks being sold there. See, Barry actually had a trainer once who was a bartender. When the guy let Barry go, he took that knowledge and perfected the art of fermenting berries into a type of wine. When I say perfected, I mean per-freaking-fected. The drinks are amazing. He also furnished the high-tech bar by himself, and makes all the alcohol by himself.

Dana and I started on our drinks. I had a slightly bitter wine made with Spelon berries. Dana got a fruity drink made with Stark berries and honey. We get the same thing nearly every time we go, which is almost every day. You'd think it would get old after a while. It doesn't. As we sat there, the two of us made small talk with Barry about the weather and the fight and other little things.

"Oh, Teri," Barry remarked. "Slynella was in here earlier. She was looking for you."

"Shiiiiiit..." I groaned and face-tabled. Slynella was a cold-blooded Arbok with a heart to match. She was, in essence, Dana's and my landlady. When we created our home, we did not realize the riverbank we were on was right on the edge of Slynella's territory. We stayed despite her because the spot was such a good one, but she comes over periodically (i.e., whenever she feels like it) to make us pay for the privilege of living. Neither Dana nor I have much use for money, so this "rent" is pretty much the only reason we ever have it. The majority of it we get from finding it on the ground, but I hadn't been searching lately. I wasn't about to have enough to pay her.

"Hey, hey, heyyyyy," Dana said, padding my shoulder. I looked up and saw that, over the course of the evening, my friend had gotten a little out of it. "Hey, now... Shlynella can suck her own tail." Dana picked up what couldn't have been less than her fifth drink (luckily these things had a relatively low alcohol level) and downed it. "You... y'know what I'm gonna do when I... whaen I shee her next time I shee her? I'm gonna... I'm gonna... that'sh what I'm gonna do!" She slammed her cup on the bar and grinned.

I looked at the clock; we had been at Barry's nearly four hours. I hopped off my stool and helped my fiery friend off of hers. "C'mon, Tipsy," I said to her. "It's time to go." She responded by blowing a puff of smoke in my face. You would think an intoxicated Fire-type Pokemon would be dangerous, but somehow Dana can't get past smoke whe she's drunk.

As we made our way to the door, I waved at Barry. "See you tomorrow, Teri-Gal," he said cheerily, waving back. We got out of the bar and started the walk home.

Ten o'clock

I left Dana's room after putting her to bed while listening to her tell me how much she loves me. Seeing the clock, I started to tidy the burrow again, since some dirt and leaves had blown in from the window. When everything was to my liking I went to my room, groomed myself, and hit the sack at exactly eleven. As I drifted off, I found myself hping life would always be this easy.

But that was before.

And that's Chapter 1! Not much to say here, but I would appreciate anyone's opinions of Teri. Chapters should be updated once or twice a week. Read, Review, and do something else that starts with an R.

Until next time,

I'm Victory Dance and I approve this message.