When I woke up, I immediately knew something was wrong. For one, I was lying in an alley way, a rather sketchy one at that. And when I brought my hand up to hold my aching head, my gaze was met with a scaly paw. I'm not supposed to have paws, you see, but this didn't quite register in my dazed mind at the time, so I stayed focused on why I woke up in the alley and why my head was pounding. After a moment of pacing the alley, I concluded that I had overdrunk the night before, but that was weird because I'm underage; I consider myself a law-abiding citizen of...of a rural neighborhood that's fifty miles from any city remotely as big as this one. Being hungover was implausible, but this fact, along with this unfamiliar territory I had woken in, sparked so many more questions.

What was especially weird was how I had no recollection of the previous day—and before you say, "Oh bro, you must've blacked out," let me remind you, once more, I don't drink—in fact, I couldn't remember...anything. Not from the day before, not from the week before, not from the month before. All I remembered was, well, that I am a law-abiding citizen of a rural neighborhood that's fifty miles from any city remotely as big as—

"Little man, wa's you doin' here?"

I jumped out of my skin, my scaly, scaly skin of which I still had yet to acknowledge.

"Little man, you know where you are?"

Down the alley was a hulking figure that resembled an alligator. He hobbled over to me and gave me this semi-concerned look where the edges of his maw would curl in odd manners and his face would just plain-out distort itself. Apparently it's hard for alligators to visually express their emotions. However, it's easy for them to creep me the heck out.

"Why, you're a pokémon," I pointed out. "A talking one," I added, ready to soil myself.

The alligator, I believe it's called a feraligatr, gave me a knowing nod and cheerfully said, "I think I see what you mean, muh brotha." He seemed to ruminate deeply for a moment, before sniffling and saying, "We all just pokémon, no matta what species. We all just pokémon! We different species, you and I, but we still pokémon!"

I raised a brow. In spite of how incomprehensible this guy's speech was, I thought I heard him call me a pokémon. "No sir, that's not what I meant. Also, I'm not a pokémon. But, may I ask, where are we?"

"You look like a plain old cubone to me, little man," was the feraligatr's response. He shrugged and continued to revel in this epiphany of his. "You taught me a valuable lesson today, my brotha, about equality. But, tell that to the Sharks! Speakin' of which, I betta getchyou outta here before they find us!" He seized me with his meaty flippers and booked it out of the alley before I could question him. Too exhausted and confused, I didn't bother trying to escape his grasp. Instead, I just kind of dosed off in his arms a little, before he forcefully threw me into the passenger seat of his Jetta.

"Buh." My eyes widened and I slammed my fists against the window, yelling, "He's kidnapping me! I'm being kidnapped by a loon, help!"

The feraligatr shushed me. "We're in Shark territory," he notified me as if I'd care.

I sighed and leaned against the window. My head was still pounding, preventing me from putting any amount of energy into escaping. After a while of cringing every time the car would zoom over a bump in the road, I moaned, "Excuse me, what were you saying about how I'm a pokémon? There seems to be this misconception about humans. We are humans, and pokémon are pokémon, you see."

The feraligatr wasn't paying attention, oblivious as usual. His stare went livid as he scrutinized the rear-view mirror. "The haters!" He spat on the unopened side-window... I wasn't sure if that was intentional or if he had forgotten to roll it down. Either way, I was perplexed to no extent. He pulled the car over and finally rolled his window down.

I was relieved when I looked out the back window and saw the police car. I had had enough of this crazy goon and his totally oblivious nature. Unfortunately, the cop was not a human, but another pokémon. Since when did pokémon drive cars? Where were all the humans anyway?

The policeman—or policemon—rested his paws where the window had been rolled down, allowing me to see these bony, spiky wristbands that looked like what some typical knucklehead at a punk concert would wear. (It later occurred to me that these wristbands were organically growing from the policemon's fur.) A shiny badge on the policemon's chest asserted his authority in lustrous bronze plating, and I could not see above that.

"Sir, do you know what speed you were going?" inquired the archetypical cop in displeasure.

"Yeah, I was going ten miles!" the feraligatr spat.

"Ten miles above the speed limit, sir," replied the cop as he bent down to peer inside the car. It was some kind of blue jackal wearing aviators and spiky punk accessories. Even through his glasses, I could tell he was giving me a wary eye. He stood straight again and crossed his arms. "Let me get this straight. You vigilantes think the police force is inadequate, so you take matters into your own hands? For your information, you're not doing your community any good if you drive at dangerous speeds through traffic lights and stop signs. Step out of the vehicle please."

The feraligatr looked at me and rolled his eyes. "Looks like they gonna give me trouble again. Take this." He handed me his wallet after removing his driver's license from it. "My address is somewhere in there. Stop by my place, aight, little man?"

"Nuh-uh," the cop intervened, bending down to stare at me. "You must stay in the car unless the policeman tells you otherwise, please."

...Well, before I knew it, I was booting it down the road. My head throbbed in protest, but I ran hard nonetheless, hoping this feraligatr's wallet had enough money in it for a subway card or bus fare or at least Advil. But as I ran, I realized my body didn't feel right. I felt like I had shrunk three feet. I slowed down, suddenly discombobulated, and slipped into a puddle on the concrete sidewalk. The water inexplicably singed my scaly skin. I looked into the water and observed the reflection. Two beady eyes from within the eyelets of a skull returned my gaze. I looked at my paws and at my torso and waist. I was some kind of lizard with a skull mask on its head. Had I become a witch doctor? I twisted around and, sure enough, I had a tail. Was I really a cubone? A ground-type pokémon? It'd explain why water felt so unpleasant when I'd touch it. But I was supposed to be a human, I was sure of it. I couldn't remember much from the day before, but I could remember certain things about who I was, and I was definitely not a lizard. But I couldn't think about that, as I had set my priorities: finding out how to get home and how to stop this splitting headache. I checked the alligator's wallet and found his address, but no money. However, he lived close. Stumbling mindlessly throughout the streets proved to be a ruthless enervation and had me panting and sweating. Eventually though, I reached the front door of the Feraligatr household. I hesitantly knocked on the door and was soon after greeted by what appeared to be me! A stocky lizard with a mask on its head, although he was much taller and wielded a bone that complemented his mask.

He gave me a stern look and grew unresponsive.

"Uh." I presented him with the feraligatr's wallet awkwardly.

The bigger lizard didn't notice it, and instead he seemed to become rather sad. "Are... Are you...?"

I shook my head, becoming flustered. "I don't think I know you, sir, but I woke up without a clue as to where I was, and this guy," I gestured to the wallet, "told me to come here. I was wondering if you could tell me where I am."

Suddenly, without warning, the lizard grabbed me and held me close to his chest. "You-you're home now," he choked. "Everything's going to be okay."

I struggled in his firm, scaly grip, but could not find the strength to yell out.

"Couldn't stand her anymore, could you? You just had to run away," cried the lizard. "You say you lost your memory? Did you get into your mother's medicine cabinet? Knowing her, she probably leaves her drugs right on the coffee table." He put me down and bowed in despair. There was this glint visible within his mask's eye sockets. He was crying, but I didn't even know this guy. "I suppose I owe you some sort of explanation," he said, kneeling down to face me at eye-level. "Back in the days, daddy liked to go to some serious clubs and find a lot of young broads—which he is very remorseful for and so he has taken up a more moral lifestyle: exploring and crime stopping with the Guild."

"Look, 'dad,'" I interrupted. "I don't care about that, I'm about to pass out really hard right now."

The lizard seemed to look proud for a moment. "I've never met you before," he whispered, mostly to himself. He sobbed into his paw. "I met someone one night... We got together, then the morning after, she claimed I 'took advantage of her,' ugh!"

I considered it. Could I have always been this "cubone," despite what I can remember? Perhaps I had been raised poorly by this "broad," whom I have no recollection of, and all these faint memories of my human days I had subconsciously fabricated during some drug-induced coma I had undergone after getting into my mother's prescription medication. I couldn't quite wrap my head around it, but how could I have just miraculously transformed into a pokémon?

The lizard, who had still been rambling about his sorrowful sex life while I was thinking, abruptly grabbed me and brought me, once again, to his chest. "I'm sorry you have to learn this now," he burst out, shaking me about in his grasp. You can imagine I was totally what-the-hecking really hard right then, and my brains were oozing out of my mask's eyelets, so that didn't help the situation.

A feraligatr appeared in the doorway across the room, carrying an unidentifiable infant wrapped in a blanket. This feraligatr was a female. "Aw nuh-uh!" She nearly dropped the baby. "You put that stray down or you're gonna be the one getting wak'd, Marowak!" she said sassily.

"Feraligatr, this...this is my son!"

"I don't care if it's the king o' Scotlan', I am not takin' care of another crazy one of dem misbehavas!"

"You cool your jets. I am not letting my son be taken care of by such a traitorous woman," Marowak said stubbornly. I slipped out of his grasp, as he was too preoccupied with the argument to focus on me any longer. A sleepy-looking totodile had emerged from the doorway and was rubbing his eyes. He seemed like he could give me some answers.

I approached him and he looked at me wearily. "Uh, they're sure going at it," I informed the tiny croc.

He nodded solemnly, saying, "Yeah, they always do. Who are you?"

"Well, I'm not sure." I told him my story...

"You mean you could have been a human!?" Totodile was astonished. "What's your human name?"

"Well, I can't remember much at all, you see, so there's not enough evidence that proves I really was a human." I sat down and held my head, in pain. "I don't know, I just don't know! And, ugh, my head has been killing me since I woke up. Oh! Where are we, anyway?"

Totodile smiled and boasted, "Why, we're in none other than Treasah Town!"

"Well, is this your father?" I showed him the feraligatr's ID after taking it from the wallet.

"Yeah, how'd you get it?"

"Your dad got pulled over by some cop and I think the cop took him away."

"Aw, not again," Totodile groaned. A frantic knocking sounded from the front door. Marowak and Female Feraligatr were too busy throwing furniture at each other with much concentrated sass, so Totodile reluctantly went for the door. "Hello?"

"Oh yes, yes! You're home!" cried a clearly distressed fearow. "You gotta help... My little bro got kidnapped by some crazy-ass gangsters! Please, I'm begging you!"

"Sharks," Totodile growled, balling his flipper into a fist. "I'll handle this, Fearow. Tell me though, where at?"

"They said something about Sharpedo Bluff before they made off with him. I-I was too scared to follow them. Please! I'm begging y—"

"Cool it, honkie," Totodile snapped. He turned to me and smiled. "What do ya say? You wanna come?"

I looked at the croc incredulously. "No, I don't want to get involved in any gang fights. I don't even know where this Sharpedo Bluff is."

"You know where all those berry stands are?"

"Berries? Like strawberries and raspberries?" I felt my stomach growl suddenly.

"Well," Totodile hesitated, "they have razz berries. Berries are good for making you feel good, you know?"

"No," I replied. "But if berries can ease my headache, then fine, I'll come I guess." This was all totally freaking wack. I never wanted to get involved in any fights, and I especially never wanted to live in a "hood" where kidnappings like this would happen often. My plan was to get to this bluff and see what berries I could procure and let Totodile deal with these Sharks. Unfortunately, when we got there, all the kecleons working the shops were too afraid to sell me stuff because of what they were witnessing across the way.

"What are you doing, Q Bone?" Totodile rebuked me. "We're on a rescue mission! Now's not the time for shopping."

I moaned, cradling my head, and followed the croc to the three figures near the edge of the sunset-lit bluff. Two of them were snakes. Great. I had had enough scaly things for one day. One of them was a sinister-looking seviper, the other an arbok. There was also a bird in the middle of the snakes, a spearow, whose talons were wrapped to a large cinderblock.

"Nyah! Look who we have here, Ssseviper! A Jet!" hissed the arbok with a thick, gangster accent.

Totodile seemed enraged. "Y-you let Spearow go, you no-good Sharks!"

"You think you look threatening, pipsqueak?" inquired the seviper with squinted eyes. "Yeah, we're so afraid of a normal rank kid who doesn't even have a partner. Get out of town!"

Totodile scrunched his face up, growing red in embarrassment. "N-not true! I've got my partner right here!" He gestured to me.

"Uh, excuse me...?" I began, but I was not able to question him further because a peculiar glossy thing in his flippers had caught my eye and shut me up. Totodile's flippers trembled around the shiny object, and had the end of it pointed directly at the seviper. A gun. A totodile with a gun. Seriously, I didn't like this.

"Woah, woah!" cried Arbok. "Bringin' a gun to a cccinderblock fight, eh? Well don't you move a mussscle," the snake wrapped its tail around the cinderblock attached to the weeping spearow's feet, "or elssse thisss little guy is gonna ssswim with the fishesss! Ya sssee?"

My eyes were glued on this little croc's gun. In one swift motion, this kid had revealed that he was armed, and I never saw it coming, probably because the thought of such a young kid carrying a gun is preposterous. I guess that's considered normal here in "Treasah Town," since the police seem to semi-condone it, as you will soon find out:

"Hold it right there, little vigilantes," came a familiar voice. "I'll take it from here."

Totodile growled in disdain. "Officer Lucario, you can't just waltz up here and take our mission away from us—in all due respect, sir, that is just not fair."

The blue jackal policemon had a gun of his own, also aimed at the seviper, who looked from gun to gun, quickly losing his confidence. Lucario frowned and sighed. "Do you even have a license for that gun, kid? You Guild members haven't accomplished anything in regards to settling such grave situations as this. The only thing you're good for is completing those rudimentary delivery missions; you Guild members are just entrepreneurs selling lemonade. You don't have the forces to deal with things like this, so you might as well disband your Guild before you get yourselves hurt." Officer Lucario was then accompanied by several other policemon. He averted his glance to the Sharks. "You're outnumbered," he called out. "Put your hands in the air where we can see 'em and please step away from the edge. We don't want to make this harder than it needs to be." The police readied their weapons.

"But we don't have hands!" Seviper called back.

"Listen, Seviper," said Arbok sternly. "If you want to be a snake, you gotta do what I told you. You gotta accentuate all your S's. Like, instead of hands, you gotta say handsss. You know? You can't be a stereotypical snake unless you prolong those S's, capisce?"

By the time the arbok was done lecturing, the police squad had already slyly slipped cuffs onto both the snakes' tails, which they were apparently unaware of until Officer Lucario clapped his paws together and said, "Let's get a move on, kah-hah!"

Seviper glared at his cuff and then at his partner. "You're unbelievably dissstracting."

"That wasss okay. You're getting better at those S's, ya sssee?"

And just like that, the police packed up and left with no further regards towards Totodile's gun. Completely overlooked! They're corrupt.

"Argh!" Totodile looked incensed. "Curse that lucario and his stupid badge and his stupid face and his stupid more-than-four-syllable words. We could deal with this stuff if the police actually left us alone."

"Come on, Totodile," I said, putting a paw on his shoulder. "Don't feel that bad. If it helps, I think if we hadn't came so soon, those snakes would have pushed the spearow off the bluff far before the police would have showed up." I looked at the lone cinderblock by the bluff. "Perhaps it's best that the police deal with things like this anyway."

Totodile sighed. He was depressed for the rest of the day. I managed to get a few berries which, believe it or not, did ease my aching head and cleared my mind, which got me thinking more about this "human in a pokémon's body" ordeal. We passed a nervous-looking Fearow on the way home. We told Fearow that everything was sorted out and the police took his brother. He was more than grateful—for the police, not so much for us.

And thus ended our little adventure.

It was getting pretty late by the time we arrived back in Central Treasah Town (Jet territory). As we were walking, Totodile appeared to be deep in thought. "Hey Q Bone."

"What."

"I was thinking, we make a pretty good team, me on offense and you on defense, you know?"

"What."

"Anyway, I was thinking you should really join my exploration team. Back there, when I said you were my partner, I knew you weren't, but I really think you should be." He stopped and turned to me with a smile. "What do you say, partner," he tested the word, which seemed to elate him. He held out his flipper for me to shake.

I stared at his outstretched flipper for a long time before saying, "Nah peace," and solitarily continued up the street and into the enchanting sunset.

The End

a/n: This is one of many conceptual oneshots that have yet to come. I know this story doesn't seem like it should be a oneshot, and it isn't. It's a conceptual oneshot, meaning it's basically a theoretical what-if. Writing stories like "Pokémon Mystery Dungeon: Explorers of the Hood" allow me to be lazy but at the same time diligent. I don't want to jump right into a new 50k-word story when I still have others to finish. However, this story may be revived in the future, depending on its feedback and my willingness to revive it. (Sharks and Jets © West Side Story, Pokémon © Nintendo)