A Super Smash Story

All characters mentioned are from Nintendo, EXCEPT Uncle Tally, midwife, and the mom.

Characters are based from the very first Super Smash.

Chapter 1: Once Upon an Outlet

I am a sister, best friend, enemy, annoyance, ex-pet, escape artist, master of electricity, pal to glider, counselor, hero, rubber band, and so much more that you can't possibly dream about. Only a nice handful view me as this, but to the stranger's eye, they would automatically think, "Oh look, it's Pikachu!"

True to the word, I am basically a pikachu; my name is Pikachu. However, there is one thing to note: I am NOT, repeat NOT Ash Ketchup's (or however it goes) pikachu. There are big difference between the two of us (I won't read off the list that runs around the world three times): he is fatter, first of all, and I am relatively thin, tall, and stretchy for my kind. He is going to grow older, but I will remain my beautiful age of sweet six forever; he has Ash, and I have the KPY; I eat batteries, and he marches 'round town kicking Pokemon bottoms. There are so many differences that separates me and him, but the history is one of the most significant.

My life begins like almost all other lives goes; once upon a time, a mommy and a daddy got married and had two litters. Then mommy divorces daddy while she is pregnant with the third litter. This third litter was born and lo and behold, I was the last one out. Obviously, my mom was tired from her labor, and my stepfather was doing something else at the moment. I was bundled up in towels by this blind midwife (I knew this by the uncomfortable way she constricted me with those bounds) and I felt a rushing sensation as I was lifted and carried across the room. The cloth was soon unfurled and I was plopped into a metal sink, complete with hand soap, faucets, and shivering temperature. I opened my eyes (and no, I wasn't blind when I was born) to stare at a gray rat with enormous, round ears. Unlike any other normal rat baby, I did not think the first thing I was born was mommy (not to mention my eyes weren't supposed to be open anyways), but this is what first popped into mind: weirdo. I sniffed; this rat smelled a bit like mom and a tad bit of someone else, and he smelled like a male. This guy looked down upon my little quivering self with his eyes wide.

"Mom's not going to like this." he mumbled as I listened and understood the first bit of rat-talk of my life. I didn't really pay attention, though, for I was examining his dinner-plate ears. I touched my own, my claws running along my wet fur. Instead of tracing a circle, I felt a cone; I had pointy ears. I blinked hard, and gazed back up at the stranger, hoping his ears were actually like mine. The large, circular ears remained intact.

As the rat tuned the cold and hot water taps to his liking, I noticed a cut on his wrist as he reached to adjust. I raised onto my haunches and placed both forepaws on it. I left them there for a few seconds before slipping and landing flat on my stomach. The rat pulled his arm away and stood as water poured in.

"You're a funny baby." he said quietly, studying me. He reached out to tussle the soft, short fur that rested on my head. I later found out that normal baby rats were supposed to be bald as well as blind and deaf at birth, which I find disgusting.

Also in years to come, Uncle Tally would say that I was too vicious for my own good. And you know something? He was perfectly right.

I was sitting in the sink with lukewarm water up to my little neck.

"Okay, I know that you're not going to like this, but I'll have to scrub you." The gray rat took the bar of soap and was holding it close to my face while he was looking for a brush. I felt quite threatened with his holding the bar of orange cleanser in front of me. I stood up for a second time and bit down. Despite the nasty taste, I shook my head from side to side vigorously.

""Hey! Are you chomping on the soap 'cuz you're hungry?"

I looked up at the guy. I wasn't eating it, I was merely defending myself. The tiger-like instincts were ebbing away as I let my mouth open. The sop chunks plopped into the water. I sat back down and let out a burp, and a bubble gushed out from my mouth. Confused, I looked at it, but curiosity got the better of me - I soon had the rat chuckling quietly to himself as he watched me attempt to catch it. My claws were swiping wildly in the air, trying to reach the elusive, mystical, rainbow, floating sphere. I was on my tippy-toes when the bubble just burst, and was gone. I sat back down, and whimpered, looking at my observer. He just made a simple half-smile and his golden eyes flickered like some, beautiful, magical element. In awe, I looked down upon the water's surface. On top of it was a wavering reflection of someone. I recognized the pointy ears I had felt and realized it was me. I looked at my eyes on the make-shift mirror; they were shiny-black, with glints of rich, bright pools of brown. I frowned, looked at Yellow-eyes, and back at my reflection. I wanted my eyes to be like those flickering, magical ones; and at the time, I thought I could change anything with a single touch. So I reached up to one of my eyes and jabbed it. The result: me bawling my lungs out and disturbing my other brothers and sisters, who then joined my wailing.

"Okay, bath time's over."

Yellow-eyes took me out of my bath and into the cold, cruel world. He whisked blankets off a counter and bundled my body with it. The rat picked my up and perhaps held me a little too tightly. I peered at his eyes, which shimmered softly, hiding something. But I knew that sorrow and anxiety lay in the depths of those pupils of his. Sympathizing, I tried to tell him whatever is wrong will eventually be all right, but my first phrase started out as:

"Oh-kee-day 'n' potato!"

"The rat looked at me with amusement playing with his smile.

Oops.

"I hope mom agrees to raise you, otherwise I'm going to miss you."

"Shmooze?" I squeaked in rat. The guy ruffled my fur again and continued walking, a little more slowly this time, toward a female rat in a bed.

"Hey," the rat whispered next to one of my pointed ears, "do you like the name Pikachu? I know it's not the most original of names, but still."

"Pikachu!" I squealed in pleasure in my language. Yellow-eyes smiled sadly.

The next few moments on was intense. The she-rat in bed turned out to be my mom, and one look me made her go wild – seriously, almost-as-berserk-as-Yoshi kind of wild. She screamed and wailed at poor Yellow-eyes and another rat came into the room with a basket. The rat took me from Yellow-eyes and dumped me inside, the lid shutting and leaving me in the dark. From my frightened position, I heard this:

"Take it!"

"No Mom."

"I am your mother, and you will do what I tell you."

"No. She's my sister and I will raise her by myself if I have to."

"But son, it's a pikachu! Oh, what will they say when they find out I had a pure pikachu! It's a nightmare!" she fumed.

"You know what? I don't care about you! It's always about you, you, you!"

"I will not tolerate a pikachu in my house!"

"Well it looks like you're just gonna have to!"

"Fine! That is the last straw! I will take it to the Store myself." I peeped a glance out from the wickerwork basket, "And you are never to return to this family! Run away if you are going to be like the rotten egg you are!" My mom then took one of the cesarean equipment and threw it on Yellow-eye's tail.

I closed my eyes and heard a yelp. I felt helpless; I could do nothing except listen to the pained whimpers of Yellow-eyes, my brother. I could do nothing else except cry.

You may notice that I was recognized as a pikachu, not a pichu. A pure pikachu, as my mother had put it, is a pikachu born as pikachu, lives as a pikachu, and dies as a pikachu. They are rare to be born amongst Pokemon, let alone a rat family. My cruel mother was a famous breeder, which meant that she just kept reproducing "good" children. She is payed to do that, in fact. These children, however, are not normally sent to pet shops but raised to be good people. You see, we "animals" live like people in this world; we work amongst people, walk amongst people, live amongst people. The birth of a pikachu and a loss of a son (who, bu the way, does a whole load of trouble later) was a big blow to her "popularity". But my mother's actions, yet so monster-ish and tyrannic, has led my life on a whole, new, adventurous trail.

I was dropped off in front of a pet shop. To explain things, for breeders like my mom, sending your kid to a pet shop is the worst thing you could do to him or her.

Or, in this case, me. Once the coast was clear, I climbed out of the basket. I could escape! I rushed out and down the hard concrete stairs and into the grass. I passed the store's brick wall and then stopped. My attention was grabbed by a curious object on the wall. It was rectangular with two squares, each having three holes – two on the top, one on the bottom. I wondered what it was used for; it apparently had just three holes in one square, but I felt power radiating from it. Being curious from the second I was born, I decided to test the world with my finger again. I plugged my finger into the top-right opening and there was a zap! I felt this raw energy coursing through my veins, through my heart, my toes, my tail. I should have been dead, even for a pikachu; instead of falling flat on my back, I just held my little finger there and felt the power pulse through my body. I maybe born from a she-rat, but this is where my story truly began.

Yay or nay? PLEASE RATE WITH A SINCERE THOUGHT!!!! It's my very first chapter of my very first story! MORE IS TO COME!!