After I first watched Pokemon, I wondered. What kind of parents let a 10 year-old go wandering off into the big wide world. And where was Ash's father? He is hardly mentioned. So I wrote this story.
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There was a hand. Not surprisingly it was attached to the wrist in the normal way. It turned, flipping over. The fingers spread and stretched. The thumb moved back and forth. The fingers closed and the hand formed a fist.
'Prepare for trouble!' a voice in the distance shouted.
'And make it double!' another voice called.
The hand touched a button. A voice whispered, out of hearing.
'Yeah, it's Team Rocket again. Do you want me to intervene?'
The whisper sounded urgent this time. The hand touched the button again, and grabbed hold of a branch. A few swift moves and the figure was on the ground, and moving towards the confrontation.
The next few minutes of talking were lost, but when the figure stopped again they it became audible.
'So just you hand over that Picachu.' a voice female voice taunted.
"Not likely!' a young male voice shouted back.
The figure moved quickly, while keeping under cover.
'Then we'll just take it from you, using our new secret weapon! The Mukanator! Built only using quality second-hand parts!' the female voice said.
The figure crawled up behind the Mukanator
'Yeah, cause we couldn't afford brand-new' said a male voice sadly.
The figure opened up a panel and snipped a few wires, then added a small package which it wired up.
'So you just hand over that Picakchu, and no one will get hurt!' the female voice taunted again.
Not exactly right, thought the figure, crawling towards the tree line again.
'Get it, Meowth!' the female voice shouted.
'Right!' a male voice shouted, presumably Meowth.
The sounds of fighting drowned out any other shouts until:
'Use the secret weapon!'
'Right! Muk Slam!'
A paw hit a button, which sent a electrical charge through the wiring, and coincidently the small package. A small fireball enveloped the machine, and Team Rocket. A distant call of 'We're blasting off again!' and 'I'm getting sick of this Jessie!' faded into the background.
'That was strange.' a male voice said.
'You can say that again.' an older male voice agreed.
A female voice spoke up.
'Not usually that easy. Well, it is Team Rocket.'
The first male voice spoke up again.
"That's true. Come on or we'll never get to the Pokemon Center by dark."
"Yeah, and I'm sick of camping out!' the female voice protested.
The voices faded into the distance, still bickering.
The figure tapped a button.
'Ash, Misty & Brock are heading towards the Pokemon Center, Joy. Pass it on to Professor Oak please?'
'Copied!' a female voice whispered back. 'I'll look out for them. Can you pick them up again tomorrow?'
'Sure.' The figure stepped onto the road. The setting sun lit his face. 'I've got to look after my son!'
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There was a hand. Not surprisingly it was attached to the wrist in the normal way. It turned, flipping over. The fingers spread and stretched. The thumb moved back and forth. The fingers closed and the hand formed a fist.
'Prepare for trouble!' a voice in the distance shouted.
'And make it double!' another voice called.
The hand touched a button. A voice whispered, out of hearing.
'Yeah, it's Team Rocket again. Do you want me to intervene?'
The whisper sounded urgent this time. The hand touched the button again, and grabbed hold of a branch. A few swift moves and the figure was on the ground, and moving towards the confrontation.
The next few minutes of talking were lost, but when the figure stopped again they it became audible.
'So just you hand over that Picachu.' a voice female voice taunted.
"Not likely!' a young male voice shouted back.
The figure moved quickly, while keeping under cover.
'Then we'll just take it from you, using our new secret weapon! The Mukanator! Built only using quality second-hand parts!' the female voice said.
The figure crawled up behind the Mukanator
'Yeah, cause we couldn't afford brand-new' said a male voice sadly.
The figure opened up a panel and snipped a few wires, then added a small package which it wired up.
'So you just hand over that Picakchu, and no one will get hurt!' the female voice taunted again.
Not exactly right, thought the figure, crawling towards the tree line again.
'Get it, Meowth!' the female voice shouted.
'Right!' a male voice shouted, presumably Meowth.
The sounds of fighting drowned out any other shouts until:
'Use the secret weapon!'
'Right! Muk Slam!'
A paw hit a button, which sent a electrical charge through the wiring, and coincidently the small package. A small fireball enveloped the machine, and Team Rocket. A distant call of 'We're blasting off again!' and 'I'm getting sick of this Jessie!' faded into the background.
'That was strange.' a male voice said.
'You can say that again.' an older male voice agreed.
A female voice spoke up.
'Not usually that easy. Well, it is Team Rocket.'
The first male voice spoke up again.
"That's true. Come on or we'll never get to the Pokemon Center by dark."
"Yeah, and I'm sick of camping out!' the female voice protested.
The voices faded into the distance, still bickering.
The figure tapped a button.
'Ash, Misty & Brock are heading towards the Pokemon Center, Joy. Pass it on to Professor Oak please?'
'Copied!' a female voice whispered back. 'I'll look out for them. Can you pick them up again tomorrow?'
'Sure.' The figure stepped onto the road. The setting sun lit his face. 'I've got to look after my son!'