(Because. I said I'd write a sequel, and so I did. This features a major time-skip. Both Harley and Cacturne are about 23-24. Why? You'll see in about five seconds... don't own. I know it's short, but this might be about five or four chapters, so don't worry, you'll be buried in fluff soon enough. ...Holy crap that rhymes.
The Damned One out. )
He asked me to marry him. He said he didn't care we were both men, that I had been a pokemon, or any shit people might say. He loved me, and that was that.
What else could I say but yes?
I must explain. My name is Cacturne. Yes, like the pokemon. Why? Because I was a Cacturne, once. Harley Davidson's esteemed partner, and well... a pokemon. That was in love with their trainer.
However, thanks to a Drunken Mew (TM!), Harley got turned into a fatass Cacturne, and got captured. So I went right after him, and ripped the trainer in two for daring to lay a hand on my beloved.
Well, his pokemon killed him, but that's another story. I should say my pokemon, they agreed to be with me after all this happened. Yeah, I'll back up. The drunken Mew, Vita, came back, and agreed to turn Harley back— and turn me into a human in the bargain.
So we lived happily ever after.
Or we would, if Harley could find an outfit, we could actually find someone to marry us that Wigglytuff didn't attack on sight, and we could get his mom off our backs.
So, yeah, we're screwed.
"Cacturne! Hey, fatass!" Harley drawls, waltzing into the house. He slams the door with his hip, and I raise an eyebrow. "Dear, I should think that hurts." He slaps a hand on his hips.
"Sweetie, I have rock hard hips. Suck it." He cracks, thrusting a hip in my direction. I roll my eyes. "You're a terrible flirt." He pads to the kitchen, and he calls, "I don't have to flirt to get you in—" Oh crap, door's open.
It can be one of two people; May, or Sarah, Harley's mom. I hope it's May. At least I'd get a break. But no break. "Harley!" She hugs him tightly. "How are the flowers coming along, dear?" He winces.
"Well, I asked Drew. He said Roselia's more than enough." She tsks, and flicks his forehead. "Silly boy. We can order a bit better." He sighs. "But mooooommmm, we don't need better. We have a junkie Roselia."
He retraces his words, and deduces from the horrified expression on Sarah's face that this may have not been the best thing to say to his overbearing mother. "Harley, just who are you hanging out with?!" Her voice rose to a fever pitch.
Well, at least I know where he gets his high-pitched scream from.
Sighing, I shoved my face into a random book on serial killers.
It must be Wigglytuff's. As the two have a heated argument, I hear a knock on the door. And another knock. I sigh. "Come in, May!" A coffee-haired brat of about twenty bounds in. "Hello, guys! Oh, hey Sarah." She pats me on the head, and goes to break up the fight. "Drew! DREW!" May's shoe goes sailing right into the boy's bright minty green hair. I actually put down the book, and stared.
What. The. Hell.
Evidently, Harley echoes my sentiments. "May, what did you just do?!" Oh thank god, there's some sanity here—
"You use boots to throw at people, not some shitty strappy shoe!" He simpers, waving his own heeled shoe in her face. I just put my head in my hands, and pretend they'll all go away.
And lo and behold, now we have Wigglytuff, stage right. "Fuck me..." I groan. Harley raises an eyebrow, but before he can make a comeback, (which he's obviously dying to do), Wigglytuff yells, "HEY! BITCHES! I FOUND A WEDDING HALL!!" Harley and I both gape in surprise.
"I should think you'd kill the preacher." He says incredulously. Wigglytuff shoves what looks to be a butcher knife in his pocket, and nods feverently. "No, of course not! You know I'd never do that!" I translate all this for the others. We all stare at him.
"A moment of silence for the preacher man." I say solemnly.
"Fuck you all."
After our moment of silence, Banette floats in, and enscribes something on his list. "So, about half of Slateport down, another good thousand or so to go." He says sarcastically. Wigglytuff flips him off, and the two begin a heated argument. Harley just stares for a second. Then he turns to May.
"Beautifly with you?" She nods. "Please have her use Sleep Powder, or I think I will kill myself." Drew clicks his tongue.
"And get all that blood on this nice carpet?" Harley and I look at each other guilty. "Uh... define nice." Drew puts his head in his hands, and May just looks confused. "What? What do you guys mean?" Even the pokemon are staring by now.
"Moving the fuck on, since I do not want to think of that, did you organize this reception, or what?!" Kya the Jolteon snaps. Kya is one of the five that I rescued from Dominic, along with Ducis the Gyarados, Ru the Sandslash, Giira the Golem, and Hiru the Vibrava. So, it's about ten pokemon, two boys, and May, Drew, and Sarah all in and out.
Why doesn't someone just kill me?
Wigglytuff is being restrained by Octillery's tentacles, and everyone is yelling, and waving their hands as if we're all in an Italian soap opera. I sigh, and stand on a chair.
"WIGGLYTUFF, IF YOU DON'T SHUT THE FUCK UP, I AM BURNING YOUR AMY WINEHOUSE TICKETS!!!" I roar at the top of my lungs. Immediately, he shuts up. I don't have the heart to tell him she canceled all her tour dates. (1)
Or that she would probably never play in Hoenn.
Getting back on track, May pipes up, "What about clothing?" Harley's eyes light up, and I groan. "SHOPPING!!" I put my head in my hands as he races towards the bedroom door, crashes into it, swears, cries, and attempts to open it.
Again, I don't have the heart to tell him it's the pantry.
Oh, well, he's gonna find out soon enough.
(So, was it terrible? Pointless, maybe, but it's the first chapter, and the first humor fic I've ever written. So sue me. 1: She DID!!! WAAAAAAAAAAH!!!! Okay, mourning over.)
