Would it surprise you if I told you I wasn't Satoshi Tajiri? Yeah, I thought so. So that means you also won't be surprised to see spelling and grammatical errors. The twist? I want you to find them and tell me where they are. What? A fanfic writer who wants to improve? Impossible!
You shouldn't have to read Tradition Sucks! to understand this oneshot. If not, sucks to be you.
This story focuses on Stan, who cusses more and is not as self conscious (read: caring and/or shy (read: Stan is irritating)) as his friend Jerry. Just a heads up, for those sensitive.
Johto Sucks!
Worn from his shortcut from Olivine City to Goldenrod, Stan was in near tears when he saw the train station. "Finally, a way to get around this place faster!" He shouted, disturbing the locals more with his action than his trashed appearance as he ran to the reception desk inside. "How much to Blackthorn City?" He panted, creeping out the poor ticket girl behind the window.
"Sorry, the Magnet Train does not go there."
"What?" His left hand slapped the table, causing her to flinch. "Where does it go, then?"
"To Saffron City."
"Saffron?" Stan rose an eyebrow. "That's not in Johto, right?"
"Correct, that's in Kanto-" The girl closed her eyes as Stan hit the desk again.
"Kanto? Kanto! Your telling me the only motive transportation in Johto is to Kanto, which is already full of cars and shit?"
"Please sir, this train is owned by the Kanto-"
"You'd think cities would connect themselves to other cities! But no- not Johto."
"We aren't as populated as Kanto."
"Obviously!" Stan rolled his eyes before turning around. "Goodbye!"
"Sorry I couldn't help. Have a nice afternoon." The girl gritted her teeth and glared at the boy's retreating back as he opened the door and left.
'Hoenn isn't even as big as this place and it still has decent transportation!' Stan growled to himself as he kicked a stray rock outside. Everything seemed so cool when he won the ticket. He bragged about for hours to his friend Jerry. To return back home with only a few measly pictures that couldn't even compare to those damn 'wish you were here' postcards really irked him. But what bothered him the most was that he didn't even have one stupid badge!
"God damn metal gymnast!" He hissed as the memories flooded back to him, "Fume is a freaking fire/fighting type! I shouldn't have lost so bad! Jerry will hang that over my head forever if I told him!"
Want an easy solution Stan? Don't tell him.
Stan decided the best way to vent was to have a Pokémon battle. So he began to search the streets for a victim. Spotting two older teens with one on a cellphone and the shorter one holding a tiny Bulbasaur, he bounded in their direction.
"Hey, want to bat-" He stopped as the teen on the phone held up his finger (the pointer, not the middle).
"Sorry, we are a little busy." Said the girl with the sleeping Bulbasaur. "If you want a battle, the route north of us, Route Thirty-five, is a good place to go." But Stan wasn't listening, he was staring at the black haired boy with as he realized, was not a cellphone, but a Pokédevice with a cellphone attachment.
'That is so unfair.' Thought Stan. 'Why didn't Professor Birch give us one of those? I would totally call Jerry at two o'clock in the morning and hang up on him...'
If you hadn't noticed, Stan is a prankster at heart.
His friend Jerry is still recovering from the last one.
"E-excuse me," the girl attempted to grab his attention, "excuse me, did you hear what I just said? We aren't battling-" Her friend however, ended his conversation, hung up and then looked down at Stan.
"What do you want?" The tone of his voice telling Stan that he was finished with puberty. This made Stan hate him more.
"Why do you guys get special issue cell phones in your Pokédevices? Don't you guys have a lot of mountain regions? Wouldn't your reception suck? Wouldn't that lose the entire meaning to owning one?" The stranger, believing Stan to be on something combining sugar and crack (read: ten years old), gave himself a few moments to process the questions.
"How many towns have you visited?" The annoyed teen narrowed his eyes. His 'girlfriend' looked like she was going to say something, but kept quite. The tiny Bulbasaur in her arms continued to snore annoyingly (to Stan anyways, the girl thought it was adorable).
"Uh... around five." Stan lied.
"Did it take you four months?"
"I wish! You guys spread your towns and freaking cities miles apart! I think you love screwing with the visitors!"
"Your from Hoenn, right?"
"...yeah?"
"You live on an island."
"Yeah, so?"
"This is a continent."
"Duh." Stan rolled his eyes.
"So, it's bigger." Unbeknownst to Stan, the boy tightened his fists.
"Double duh, I know what a continent is."
"Listen kid," Stan narrowed his eyes, this boy was no more five years older than he, which made the kid label a downsizing title. "Johto isn't as tax focused like Hoenn. And most of the taxes go to persevering the wild than on luxury comforts."
"Your kidding!"
"If you want easy traveling, go to Kanto. Every route is paved. If there is a route that isn't, they're working on it."
"Don't you need some written permission or a green card if your not from Kanto?"
"Eight badges count as a permission, I think."
"Goddammit!" Stan threw his hands in the air, causing the two natives to step back a bit. "I've only got two weeks left here!"
"Oh, you're one of those visitors."
"Excuse me?"
"He means you came here by winning a ticket in a contest." The girl stepped in between the two, causing the green creature in her arms to wake up. It then glared at Stan.
Stan glared back.
"Yeah, I won a ticket. So?"
"Those tickets are only for foreigners to get a taste of what Johto is like, it's a marketing strategy to bring more tourists and trainers."
"It's a shitty marketing strategy." He crossed his arms. "If you want more tourists, I suggest using your tax dollars for transportation!"
"That's not-" Her male friend placed his hand on her shoulder.
"Forget it." He said.
"What?" She blinked.
"What?" echoed Stan.
"The kid's homesick, desperate for attention and trouble." He said, not caring that Stan heard him perfectly well. "Let's get going. It will be dark soon."
"Alright," the girl sighed, "sorry you're homesick." She gave a light bow before departing with her less patient friend.
"What? I'm not homesick! If I was, why would I come here? Johto makes no Goddammed sense!" He shouted into the sky, as no one around him wanted to listen. Meanwhile, Fume cringed in his Pokéball and wondered what level Stan would have to be to learn to shut up.
It would be an awesome move.
It seems I may be making a series out of this. What should I name it? The 'Everything Sucks' Series? God that sounds bad.
Just like this fanfic.
Just like Stan.