Pocket Monstrosities
Episode one-Gotta Hatch 'em All
Part one- Aww New Birth
The wind lashed against the window pains, the waves crashed against the cold stone barrier like a tiger trying to reach its prey. The lightning struck the sky, sending blasts of light here and there, crashing into the see causing foam to fly all over the place. Birds cried, desperately trying to escape the storm like a rabbit runs from a fox.
High in the very top of the island castle, Mygel Galvanche lay in chains, staring up his captors whom he had run from for so long. Now here he lay, sacrificing himself to them to save an innocent man.
Ferrdano, his dark, uncombed grey hair shining villainously in the lightning's cruel light, observered his prize. Slowly, sniggering, he drew his sword. Galvanche braised himself, knowing that this time there would be no trail, no chances, and no escape. This was the end. Unless he could act. He could not allow Ferrdano this pleasure; he could not allow this evil man to achieve a goal he had been pursuing for so many years. Galvanche looked, a knife lay on a table near his bed, easily within his reach. Galvanche decided, he would stab himself, it would be suicide, Ferrdano's sword would not touch him. Galvanche grasped the knife and held it above him.
"No!" Ferrdano yelled as he realised Galvanche's plan.
Galvanche murmured a prayer, and then lowered the knife. As it neared him, he realised…
(NOTE: That last bit had nothing to do with the rest of the story)
55, 000, 332, 999.62, 133, 667 universes away in a place called New Bark Town a kid called Oscar was looking after his baby brother Bob. He was currently on the floor, looking round angrily at a small box with "VOTE STEVEN FOR PRIME MINISTER OR EXPLAIN WHY TO HIS AGGRON" written in nice big convincing letters on the front.
Oscar sighed, up until now Steven had seemed a good choice, now Oscar didn't like him. I mean, can you trust someone who makes silly little boxes that people fall over as Prime minister? No you can not!
Still, maybe it was Baby Bob's fault all along, if Baby Bob hadn't done what babies do best Oscar wouldn't have been running with the bulgy nappy and he wouldn't have fallen over the box and the bulging nappy would not be on his head and no longer bulging as the substance that had been making it bulge was now running down Oscar's head. As if this weren't bad enough, Baby Bob had not liked the large bang that occurred when Oscar fell over the box that was his fault generally anyway and was now crying. Oscar decided from that moment onwards that he was never having kids.
To allow yet more let downs for Oscar, his book of 211 THINGS A BRIGHT POKE'MON TRAINER CAN DO was now covered in the brown, smelly stuff. Oscar stood up, sighed, threw the nappy away, and grabbed the TV remote before flicking it on to see if Button Moon was on yet. That should cheer Baby Bob up. Button Moon was not on, The Fimbles where, and Baby Bob was scared of the Fimbles because they where big and hairy.
When this resulted in baby Bob's increased wailing, Oscar hurriedly turned over to find a Scyther marmailising a Pidgey.
Baby Bob's wailing increased. Oscar flicked over to see two people doing what they shouldn't be in front of a twelve-month-old child. He flicked the telly off, and, deciding this world had no shame, sank back in the chair. Except it wasn't the chair. The chair had been there up until this morning when Oscar's mum had moved it and replaced it with something else, in all this lack of TV worth showing a screaming 0.12 year old Oscar had forgotten and sank back into the piece of furniture that had replaced it. That piece of furniture was, Baby Bob's cot.
As much as Baby Bob loved his big 10-year-old brother, he was not at all chuffed when his big 10-year-old brother sank back into him. In fact he was so not chuffed that he increased his screaming to boiling point and vomited all over his big 10 year old brother.
"How nice" thought his big ten-year-old brother in a tone that Baby Bob would later learn to call sarcasm.
The house was now like Noel Edmands's after Mr. Blobby had set the alarms off, Baby Bob's wailing could easily replace the missing siren on that police officer woman (Oscar couldn't remember her name right now)'s car. Oscar's immediate reaction was to run, and far away at that, but his mum, who had vanished to the shopping moll which she may as well call her home, had told him not to do that under any circumstances.
"You go out with your 'orrible friends and leave your defenceless little brother all alone," she'd said in a voice which was easily win her the part of the woman on the opening credits to the Fresh Prince Of Bell Air "and I'll cook your lungs like spaghetti and serve them for tea"
She probably meant it to; she'd once made him sleep in the oven after she'd had a few, and it was that which settled it with Oscar that if Rayman himself was signing autographs in New Bark Town square one night only he COULD NOT let his 'defenceless' ("huh" thought Oscar who still wrecked of vomit) little brother out of sight (or out of the house).
At that point the phone rang. Oscar grabbed it.
"Oscar," said a voice "its your jolly old neighbour Professor Elm are you having a good day?"
Oscar sighed "Hello Professor"
"Hello Oscar"
"Hello Professor"
"Hello Oscar"
"Hi"
Long silence, except for Baby Bob's screaming, who Oscar could not leave the house because of.
"Is there a reason why you call?" Oscar asked.
"No," Elm replied, "I say, has the law finally come for your mother?"
"No its Baby Bob" Oscar replied.
"They've come for Baby Bob?"
"No, its Baby Bob screaming"
"Maybe he's innocent then. Listen, I do have a reason for calling I've just remembered, could you leave your house and pop by the lab?"
Oscar looked at Baby Bob, then back to the phone.
"Yeh alright"