AN: do u guys need anytihng from the store
CHAPTER 4
A special assignment... A chat with a friend... "This is a bad town for fruit snacks"... A sky full of Ho-ohs
Upon waking, Youngster Joey realized that all of the exciting adventures of the previous day had done one thing: made him even hungrier for adventure. He leapt out of the hotel bed (what sweet melancholy it must be for an adventuring Youngster to wake up in someone else's bed and realize for the first time how very far he is from home) and peeled off his ruined clothes, but he left his cap on. It was too important to ever be apart from, even for fifteen minutes. He got into the shower and let the hot water run over his body and the bill of his cap.
What in the world had gone on yesterday, anyway? How had he gotten so many cuts and scrapes, and why did his teeth ache? All he could clearly remember was that he had set out with Rattata on an adventure, that he had sold Rattata for a bike with KoRn stickers, and… then what?
Youngster Joey finished showering, wrung out his cap, put his bloody and dirt-caked clothes back on, and took a look at his cell phone. He went to his contacts list so he could either ask Ashley about her Clefairy or call her father a falcon fucker, depending on who picked up, but his eyes were instead drawn to the fact that he had apparently gained a new friend since yesterday.
"Huh. I wonder who this 'N. Dica' is?" Youngster Joey said aloud. "Well, whoever it is, I bet they could use a friendly reminder about the extremely high quality of that Rattata I used to have." He dialed N. Dica. The line rang and rang again.
"Hello?" said a gravely voice.
"Rattata rules!" Youngster Joey shouted.
"Who the fuck is this?"
"It's me, Youngster Joey."
The Pokéfreak laughed. "Oh yeah. You. Hey kid, how'd you like those CARBOS?"
"I thought that was CALCIUM," Youngster Joey said.
"Yeah, whatever. What can I do ya for?"
"Hmm. Do you have any fruit snacks?"
The Pokéfreak cackled. "I ain't heard it called fruit snacks in years, kid. I like you. I'll have a buddy of mine drop off a little variety pack in about 30. Smell ya later."
Youngster Joey closed his cell phone and put it away. "All right!" he said, pumping his fists. "Fruit snacks are coming!"
Two hours later there came a knock at the door. Youngster Joey had been watching Duck Tales on the hotel's TV. He got up and answered the door, and found himself staring up at a Team Rocket Grunt.
"What's happenin there, little space traveler," the Grunt muttered, and came bustling into the hotel room. He shut the door firmly behind him. "Heard you might be lookin' for some fruit snacks."
"I love fruit snacks!" Youngster Joey cried.
"How grand. Tell you what, home slice. You can keep these snacks for free if you make a little delivery for us. You'll even get to join Team Rocket and wear the costume and everything."
"Wow!" Youngster Joey said. "I can't wait to call all my friends and tell them I got my first job!"
The Team Rocket Grunt laughed. He opened his pack and took out a long rectangular package wrapped like a birthday present, and handed it to Youngster Joey.
"Here's the goods. You wanna head across town to that creepy burnt out tower. You're gonna leave the package there. Don't stay too long, don't talk to nobody, don't answer no questions. Don't make no eye contact with no Officer Jenny."
"Which one?"
"Any of 'em. They're bad news, kid. Got it? They'll fuck you up and steal your escape ropes off your corpse. I seen 'em do it. Big cyclone of blue hair and police boots. They can strip a man down to his skeleton in under thirty seconds. Swear on my mother's grave."
"Whoa!" Youngster Joey exclaimed.
After the Grunt left, Youngster Joey thought about having some fruit snacks. He looked in the plastic bag containing his variety pack and found a strange assortment of candies that seemed suspiciously free of amusing fruit shapes. A bunch of pills and capsules and little rust-colored pellets had collected at the bottom of the bag, which was otherwise filled out by dozens of perforated paper squares decorated with cool anime drawings of Mewtwo.
What the hell is all this stuff? Youngster Jimmy wondered, turning the bag this way and that. He decided to try crunching one of the little red pellets. It tasted spicy and and foul. He put his bag of fruit snacks away and took out his cell phone and placed a few calls. First he had a forty-minute shouting match with Professor Elm. Then he talked to Caleb from school for a while about how much they both hated homework. Then he called his friend Gold.
"…" said Gold, upon answering the phone.
"Hi Gold, it's me, Youngster Joey!" Youngster Joey said happily. Gold made no reply, although Youngster Joey could clearly hear him breathing on the other end. "What are you up to, Gold? Ran into any cool wild Pokémon lately? I'm on a Pokémon journey, too! I met some new friends yesterday!"
Gold continued to breathe loudly into the mouthpiece.
"Pretty neat, huh? I also got my first job! I'm going to deliver some fruit snacks for Team Rocket!"
Gold said nothing.
"All right. Well, see ya later!"
Youngster Joey hung up the phone and started looked at his hands. He looked at the hands for over an hour, trying as hard as he could to wrap his head around the incredible workmanship of his joints and the miles of mysterious nerve fibers that lay coiled beneath the elaborate disguise of his skin. He felt as though he might start to float, and everything had a strange, shimmery glow. The bed had become a giant marshmallow. Objects around the room looked unusually flat, as though they had been drained of depth, but their colors had become terrifyingly vivid.
"I've got to get out of Ecruteak," Youngster Joey said in a breathy, intense voice. "This is a bad town for fruit snacks." He got up drifted out of the hotel.
On his way down the street, the legendary Pokémon Ho-oh swooped down and accosted Youngster Joey.
"HAAAAAAAAAAWWWW," Ho-oh shrieked. Flames erupted from its mouth and eyes. Youngster Joey stood awestruck in the shadow of the ancient beast. His pupils were like the mouths of cannons.
"Wow," he said.
Ho-oh seemed to be challenging Youngster Joey to a Pokémon battle! Out came the Pokédex.
"Ho-oh," the 'dex announced. "This, legend-ary Pokémon has been sight-ed since, ancient times. Its breath is hot, enough to melt planets. No known Pokémon can best it in one, to one, combat."
"That's a bunch of horse shit," Youngster Joey said. "My Rattata would've ripped off this thing's head and shit down its neck."
Youngster Joey pulled out an Ultra Ball and threw it at the Ho-oh. The ball struck the mythical beast in the chest, bounced off, and drew it inside. Right at the perfect time, Youngster Joey pressed Down and B. The ball turned to the left. The right. It hopped, rolled in a little circle, and then fell still. The Ultra Ball glowed white and then—boop! The Ho-oh was caught.
"Hey, that kid just caught the mythical Pokémon Ho-oh, which every Pokémon trainer in all of Johto eventually catches!" shouted a nearby construction worker. His Ho-oh, perched on a nearby street lamp, squawked in agreement.
"Congratulations, little boy! Today is your Ho-oh Day!" cried the mayor of Ecruteak as she trotted briskly down the steps of City Hall. Her Ho-oh, like many of the other Ho-ohs belonging to anonymous Pokémon Trainers milling about, was busy swooping through patches of long grass and using its fire moves to eradicate entire clans of level 12 Drowsees and Jigglypuffs without even trying. The mayor used a bird whistle to call it over, and the Ho-oh flapped over and landed on the roof of a small car. The children inside the car screamed in mortal terror.
"Have this commemorative plaque," the mayor told Youngster Joey, and handed him a cheap picture frame with a piece of printer paper stuck crookedly underneath the splotchy glass. On the paper had been scribbled:
Good work on catching Ho-oh. Trade this voucher for 50 cents off Rare Candies at all participating Pokémart locations. Limit: 999 Rare Candies per customer.
"Aw man," Youngster Joey said, looking down at the disappointing Ultra Ball in his hand. "You mean everyone's got one of these things?"
"That's right," the mayor told Youngster Joey with a chipper smile. "And on top of that, it's considered super lame to use your new Ho-oh in battles. Both with your friends and against Gym Leaders."
"Aw man," Youngster Joey moaned. A tear slid down his cheek.
"Aw, cheer up, little boy," the mayor said. "It could be worse, right?"
"Not really," Youngster Joey said. As he walked down the street, shoving people's Ho-ohs out of the way left and right, he tossed the Ultra Ball containing his new legendary Pokémon, which he'd already nicknamed PENI$BUTT, into a garbage can. He got on his bike and pedaled over a bridge that led out of town. He was still carrying Team Rocket's parcel and feeling as though his head was operating at an altitude of about 15 feet while his body was stuck on the ground.