How to Conquer the World In Three Easy Steps
Or: Insert name stolen from a 1994 Sonic game here
Prologue
Or: Step .5
If you climb the second-highest mountain in the Pokémon world, and if you stand on a ledge on the east side and look carefully at the snow to the right and left of you, you might catch a glimpse of what on the outside looks like an old abandoned cabin. It's just a trick. If you go inside you will find it is anything but abandoned. But don't go in there if you value your life.
Inside the building was a small but very crowded laboratory. A man of medium height sat there, looking very bored. He looked normal enough- with the exception of his deep red hair- but just like his cabin, he was anything but. Every now and then he'd glance at the heavy snowfall outside, as though he were waiting for someone.
Then there was a loud bang and a flash of light. "Honey! I'm home!"
"Don't leave me alone like that!" He scolded his wife. "You know I hate it when you go away for days and leave me stranded here!"
"I was busy," The woman replied. "I was helping this nice family. And just before I left you said you didn't want to be bothered because you had hit upon this amazing formula and you wanted to be alone to work it out!"
"You should know by now that I never mean that, Freya!"
"Well I don't get your problem, Mister Midgard! Just fly down the mountain if you want a break!"
"You know I can't fly! How many times do I have to remind you that I can't fly!" Midgard yelled. He stood up as if to look Freya in the eye, but he already knew that was impossible since she was almost two feet taller than him. "And even if I could fly, it would be dangerous to fly in this heavy snowfall."
"Fine! Just don't bite my head off!" The two of them stared at each other for a few seconds. Then Freya said, "I happened to meet one of our great-great-whatever grandsons while I was down there."
"Freya!" Midgard shouted. "There's no such thing as a great-great-whatever grandson! Tell me who it is and I'll find out exactly how he's related to us!" He pulled out a red leather journal.
"His name is James; remember, he was one of the people you used to point out that not all our great-great-and-so-forth grandchildren are bootlickers."
"Oh, yes; he's our great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandson."
"Yeah, and he's got point-five meter luck."
"What? Oh no; you have to be joking!"
"I know, that was my reaction too; but I'm afraid so. In fact it might be something more extreme than point-five meter luck; it might even go down to centimeter luck!"
"Centimeter luck?"
"It's that bad."
"Oh no."
There was an awkward pause.
"So what's this formula you're working on anyway?"
"Oh, it's that forgetting potion you've been wanting to use. You won't believe how awesome it is. You don't even need to have the victim drink it; it works better if you inhale it, and the best part is that it can be neutralized by this inconspicuous talisman. You can wear the talisman anywhere on your body as long as it's touching bare skin, and it will still work!"
"Oh, awesome!" Freya exclaimed. "I'll put this to good use." She took the bottle from Midgard's hand.
"But… how are you going to use it?" Midgard sounded nervous.
Freya smiled mischievously. "I'm glad you asked."