"Make sure you lock up for the night." My stalwart employer stated before closing the door behind him. They skies were already turning a hue of iridescent black as the clock ticked to half past eight. As per usual, it had been a busy day – nearly three cases before lunch. I piled my paperwork into my trusty briefcase. Yes, I still have one of those. Some people might call me old school; I prefer to label myself "vintage." I just find nothing overly exciting about storing my documents online like normal people. Lack of complete online security is enough to haunt me in my sleep. Just as I laid the last paper corner-to-corner with the ones below it, the phone rang. And then my cell phone began to buzz. I swished my tail as a feeling of annoyance rippled up my spine. It was the end of my shift. Don't people understand that it's important to eat dinner before nine o'clock? Lucky for me, I live literally down the street. "Oh well." I sigh and pick up the receiver. "Cerulean Detective Agency, how may I help you?"
There was brief silence on the other end before the whispery voice of an audino began to speak. "Help! We need your help!"
"Hello, Mam? Could you please speak up? I want to help but I have to hear you first. Who is we?" I asked in my high-pitched, annoyingly girly voice. You know how some people complain that their voice just sounds completely different when they listen to a recording of it? I can totally relate.
"Us! All of us! Your friends! Your coworkers! Your… loved ones!" Creeptastic. At least I could hear her now. "I have… information… but… but you can't… you can't tell anyone that I tell you. I am calling from a community pay phone… they… they might find me any moment." All right! All right! Just get to the important details already! I let out a yawn. Let's just say I'm not exactly a poke-person. Er… People-poke? You know what I mean.
"Lady, I'm gonna need some more details if I'm gonna help you." Sometimes I like to make myself feel important. I am important. I'm more than just a file-organizer! I'm… a secretary. Big deal.
"He… he's going to betray us all! You just look at him and know he's a creeper. They say he even speaks like a human. Like… He knows more human language than his own name!" Alright, so, maybe this is nothing new… but that detail might not be that important. There are plenty of pokemon that have learned how to efficiently communicate with the human creatures. Take Meowth for example. Nothing particularly exciting about him, unless you're a crazy cat-lady. She continued, "It's that new guy… they creepy one. I've always hated cats, but nothing compares to the way that this one makes me feel. They say… he battles…" Again, nothing new… a lot of pokemon are crazy enough to take up low-life activities. Some are even stupid enough to partner up with humans and give up basic pokemon rights- like the ability to choose your own future, to speak your own language… I digress.
"Is this a case overprotective-protective-mother-concerned-about-h er-possibly-rebellious-kids? If so, I would appreciate if you called back in the morning." I can sound so empowered sometimes.
"You don't understand! He doesn't just battle with humans; he battles like humans! He forces other pokemon to fight for him! I've seen him. Just this morning, he strolled into town… He can't be trusted… He killed my son." Woah! Woah! Woah! Maybe that detail should have been brought up at the very beginning of the conversation. My tail stood at attention. I was really listening this time. No one… No one actually kills pokemon.
"Did you call the police?" I asked with urgency.
"They can't be trusted." Alright. Yah, that's the truth. They get government funding, and, as you know, all that money comes from the elite psychic pokemon at the top who have fully-heartedly allied themselves with the human types. Nope. Better not to trust them.
"Do you know his name?"
"They say he goes by the name… Mewtwo." I had never heard that name before, but I could instantly tell that he wasn't boyfriend material.