It was Monday morning when Skratch Sketchum awoke from his delicate slumber. Clang clang clang, he knocked his hand against the wall.
"Let me outta here Pikachu! LeT mE oUTTa HERREEEEEEEE," cried Skratch. His hand, thumping against the cold hard metal, bleeding, scabbed, and scarred from hours of pounding, could no longer take it anymore. Gasping for his last breath, Skratch could see the light at the end of the tunnel. But all of a sudden, his spherical prison began to hiss.
A crack of light seeped into his dark chamber and began to expand as his prison's top half rose. Eyes squinted, brows furrowed, Skratch quivered against the foreign light in fear of what would happen next, but all he saw was a disheartened Pikachu before him and surrounding himself, his evaporated sweat, bearing an opacity that layered against the air and a smell so rancid he began to feel faint. Seconds later he saw no more.
"Arise, young padawan!" barked Pikachu.
Dazed in confusion in hearing another voice besides his own, Skratch's mind reeled and spun circles. Yet before his bearings could be bunkled he was shot with intense, violent pain and his bodice lit up with mechanical, impersonal light. His legs, arms, and torso stretched and enlarged at an inhumane speed, his head ballooning to thousands of times it's former size. His muscles groaned and his bones creaked, and suddenly Skratch found himself a magnified version of himself; dry, flaky skin burning beneath the sun, pasty, shaking arms from pain, and oily unkempt hair.
"Go Onix! Disembowel the enemy!", said a charming young man with slit eyes and spiky hair.
Seeing double, Skratch could not discern a clear image of who or what was in front of him. Lines, shapes, and colors blurred together and so did the contents of his midday meal of mystery meat and porridge in his stomach. Skratch strained with all his might and was finally able to realize the gargantuan rock snake of a pokemon Onix was barreling towards him.
Think, Skratch, think! Skratch thought to himself. It had be years since he was called to battle, given that his only real move was Growl, so Skratch was forced to dust off the rust, call upon his power, revitalize his minimal amount of strength, concentrate on the enemy, pump his blood and adrenaline, AND
particpate.
No! It can't be that! I can't just merely "participate" - not again! If I'm out here, that means Pikachu has used up all his other Pokemon and I'm his last option! I must win! If not for myself, for Master Pikachu! I'm. His. Last. Hope
Muffling out Pikachu's cries of despair and attempts to forfeit the match, Skratch pulled up sleeves and locked eyes with the enemy only to realize had no chance against an Onix. The Onix was too large, too strong, too fast; he had no weak point.
Whipping his head back and forth to stir up his brain juice, Skratch felt nothing and began to feel eminent defeat creeping up on him. Boom, thump, thump came the Onix. RaAAAAAAAaAA it cried. Its eyes narrowed, glaring at Skratch who in turn bore eyes so wide with pupils so small and with feet immovable from the ground. He thought this was the end, but then a plan began to formulate in his pea-sized brain and his feet began to tingle.
Ah ha! I'll get him with this! Show him who's boss! Skratch smugly thought to himself as he dodged Onix's attacks while creating distance between them.
Swiftly moving with his newfound agility, Skratch began to firmly wipe at his hair, collecting the grease and pouring it across the arena floor to set up the ultimate trap. Splat splat, the oil sounded as it hit the floor in large scoops...
Hehehehe. Come over here Onix, come slip on this nice patch of hair oil and dandruff.
AH! What a shocker! The Onix saw right through Skratch's dirty tricks and simply slithered around the patch.
"Why, oh why! It was a fool-proof plan! Oh woe is me!" cried out Skratch who, too depressed, began to pound the ground with his fist, creating cracks in the earth. Salty tears streamed down his face, an experience all too familiar to him.
The Onix roared and continued with his attack. It's thick, ropey lips plunged themselves into Skratch's midsection and delivered a powerful clamp. The lips and bite force of an Onix are more than capable of bruising the side of well-trained adult man, however, Skratch, with his crispy leaf body, broke three ribs. However, Skratch knew no pain, his poor nerves numbed by the idea of failing his dear Master Pikachu. Desperation and anger racked his aching body, and his mind underwent colossal strain as the Onix erased his physicality.
Then, inches away from passing into the sweet plane of heaven, violence and defiance took shape in Skratch's mind like a virulent weed, great tendrils of aggression coursing through his exhausted brain. In a spur of adrenaline, Skratch grasped yet another gob of oil and smeared in the Onix's eye. The poor Onix bellowed in pain and released Skratch, dropping him 3 meters to the floor and breaking yet another three ribs. Skratch, beyond mortality, arose yet again and broke into a full-blown bum rush. Shoulder poised, head tucked, and feet in full sprint, Skratch plunged his skinny boy elbow into the breast of Brock, the gym leader. In an apelike barrage, Skratch rained blows upon Brock while the blinded Onix howled in the background. Thus, Pikachu earned his first badge.