Wish You'd Catch Me, Too
Ash Katchim sat in the recliner, lighting a cigarette with his Charizard's tail. Pikachu was asleep before the fire, with little lightning bolts rising up from his sleeping, yellow mouth. Blowing a smoke ring, Ash let out a sigh and put his feet up on the back of Blastoise's gnarled, wicked shell. This was going to be a long day. Another one for the diary, it seemed. He looked around at the trophy cases spread throughout the beautiful oak room in which he was now at rest and sitting quietly. He continued to smoke. Remnants for all of his past captured pokemans sat lifelessly in the sanitary glass cases. He had realized long ago that after "Catching em all," his meager house could no longer house his vast collection of critters and buddies. He had decided to keep a small "souvenir" from each of his captured beasts, proving to the other friends and neighbors that he was truly the "Prince of Captures."
The cracked bill of a Psyduck, a withered Snorlax ear, the iridescent fin of a Karp…these were but a few of the relics that now lay dead and neglected in his prized collection. Ash puffed more smoke from his cigarette and flicked the ash on his Oriental carpet. Some of it landed on Blastoise. Yes, Ash was truly the Prince of Captures. But why did he feel so bad?
Misty struggled up the stairs, dragging her legless frame up the cold wood of the steps. No, she didn't need anyone's help. Yes, she could do it on her own. Since losing her legs, Misty's upper body had surpassed that of other mere mortals. She was muscuelar. Her veins, ropy and purple, bulged out from under her sinewy, yellow arms. "Halfway there," she thought to herself. "Once I get to the top, then it's down the long hallway to see what my husband Ash is up to."
Ash looked at a picture of his elderly father. The one man that had never congratulated him on capturing the final wild beast. All others had to come to his house, celebrating his victory and cooking feasts. His father never said a word. He would give them all back: the Rattata's paw, the Dobermann's tooth, the Bulbasaur's gaze… Yes, he would give them all back and set his 3 beastly servants free, if only his father would catch him. He prayed for the day, but he knew it would never come. He shifted his feet. Bulbasaur cracked open a red, angry eye. With a wistful sigh, he stroked the Charizard's neck and let the cigarette fall to the slick puddle of gasoline on the floor.