Socks, Will You Marry Me?
Summary: Sequel to Socks! It's basically about Drew's escapades trying to legalize marriage between humans and socks. Sockshipping, Hoennshipping. Drew bashing if you squint.
Drew woke up from his wonderful dream of marrying his socks. He stared at his bare feet. Ever since his socks were sent in to the local tailor (because they had to be enlarged so they would fit him), he hadn't felt the same. His feet were cold, of course. He'd been wearing the same socks every day since he was seven years old. They'd only been washed on special occasions (only once or twice a year). So far, he'd had to have them enlarged eight times to make them fit. In welcome of his socks, he shaved his legs, the first time he'd ever done so. The phone rang.
"Hello?" asked Drew.
"Hello, this is Tailor Tim tailoring company," said the man on the other line (presumably Tim). "We have good news! Your socks are ready to be picked up!"
"Thanks Tim!" exclaimed Drew, obviously familiar with the guy. "I'll see you in a few minutes. Bye!"
"Bye!" responded Tim. They hung up.
Drew, in his sandals, rushed out in the crisp, cold air of early spring wearing a t-shirt and boxers.
"HELLO, WORLD!" Drew screamed. "MY NAME IS DREW OF LA ROUSSE CITY AND I LOVE SOCKS!!!"
One of his thirty-four thousand eight hundred twelve fan girls (who was called Mia, by the way), muttered, "Why do all the cute ones have to be sock-obsessed?"
Once he got to Tailor Tim's tailoring business, he received his socks. The hefty price for this was around ten thousand Poké-dollars/yen but Drew didn't care, he was mostly rich anyway. The moment he got outside, he put on his socks.
"Oh socks!" he cried. "Will you marry me?"
His socks embraced his feet more tightly, as if to say, "Yes."
Drew went dancing in the streets, utterly delighted with this "answer". However, because it was around eight in the morning (the time most of us know as the "morning rush") several cars swerved to avoid hitting him. A few mothers covered the eyes of their staring children.
After all, if you saw a boy around the age of thirteen with fuzzy green legs (his leg hair grows FAST) wearing nothing but boxers and a t-shirt dancing in the streets in early spring, wouldn't you rather your children didn't see it?
Drew as all set. However, there was a tiny dilemma: the dudes who make marriage licenses wouldn't sell him one, and he couldn't find anybody who would marry them illegally.
Everyone said, "It just isn't right for a living person and a nonliving pair of socks to be married. You'll just have to be contented with having them as your dear, dear friends and marry a human. Or a Pokémon, whichever is most convenient."
A couple of them actually gave their business cards for Pokémon-Human marriages.
Drew was in anguish. So, he did what most people in anguish did: he begged his closest friends for help. Now, Drew's closest friends weren't ordinary. They were extremely kind and tolerant people, as one would have to be in order to be a friend of his. Who were these people? They went by the names of May and Brendan.
May and Brendan weren't sock obsessed, as one may think they would be. They were perfectly normal people, as hard as it may seem. They were dating each other, and were both very stylish. May donned a red bandana and matching outfit. Brendan wore a hat with spiky silver hair at the top of it and a matching outfit, similar to a masculine version of May's. And so, Drew called them to his hotel room.
"They won't let me marry my socks!" wailed Drew the moment they got to his room.
"So go on strike," suggested Brendan.
"Exactly!" agreed May. "If you go on strike, they'll have to let you marry your socks!"
And so Drew went on strike. Unfortunately, he was the only one who did so.
If you read the prequel to this story, you'll know what happened.
End.
A sequel to my story "Socks!" I don't think it's as funny. I also don't own Pokemon.
-Kay