CH.7: It's About Damn Time They Reached a Gym…
As Damien and his retinue reached the walls of Zuba City, they realised that they had no way to get over said walls. "We should go to Ancien City instead." advised Paddy. "We should." replied Damien. The other three looked disturbed at this uncharacteristic display of sanity, when compared to Damien's usual plans, which usually involved either dynamite, lasers or laser dynamite. "But we won't." he grinned.
Paddy woke a few minutes later, extremely confused. "Why am I tied to a hang-glider?" he called from several metres up. "It's just so you won't hurt yourself when we shoot the anchor out of this cannon." replied Damien. "Anchor?" "Yeah, we need something to pull you back down. Fire!" "WAAAHH!" yelled Paddy as he soared into the air. The anchor landed in the middle of the town square.
But Paddy didn't. "How do I go down?" he called to Damien. "Just let go!" called Jim. "Aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh…" cried Paddy as he fell the disorienting drop to the ground. "Dude, 5 feet is not a disorienting drop." "It is to me! You weren't tied to the hang-glider!"
"We need 24% less gunpowder, and aim it 3 degrees lower." instructed Damien. "How the fuck can you be so smart?" "I read books, Jim." "Re-ad?" said Jim. "Bo-oks?" continued Seth. "I?" finished Paddy. Damien looked at his three companions. "We really should have finished our 2nd level education."
After several failed attempts to get over the wall, involving a shotgun toaster, insulting Seth's red hair (that's the guy who says he doesn't need anger management. Sure(!)), semi-legal squirrel pie, a battering ram and 14 ladders tied together, Damien was forced to give up. Of course, being Damien, he refused to listen to even his own brain. He decided that the best way to deal with his problem was to play poker.
"Look, Quazlan, there's no way that you got two Royal Flushes in a row. (The enemy team doesn't get a capital letter, but a hand in poker does. WTF.) The odds are billions to less than one." "Quaz lan Quaz!" What are you implying? "Have you been cheating? Again?" "Lan lan Quaz!" How dare you! Hoenn Rage!
"Ow, Quazlan, stop burning me! That's it!" whooped Damien. He took out two rocket launchers from his seemingly bottomless rucksack. "Lads, you might want to stand back."
Damien took careful aim at a Jim-shaped dent in the wall, (told you Seth needed anger management) readied his rockets, then swivelled downwards and fired. "Aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh…" THUD! That is not the sound Damien made when he hit the ground, but the sounds he did make are probably illegal.
"I made it!" he laughed as he extinguished the flames covering his hoodie. "Congratulations." congratulated Paddy. "How the _ did you three get in here?" "The stairs."
At this point, Damien said something so obscene that if I tried to type it, a highly trained SWAT team would burst in, arrest me, and force me to rewrite it as I have above. (Okay seriously, who told them where I live? Was it YOU? You know who you are.) Just as well I can't spell it properly.
"Should we go to the gym, so?" Damien asked his three friends, who were frozen in horror. Eventually, Damien took a collapsible wheelbarrow from his bag, (That's probably pushing it a bit, but I did say 6 chapters ago that his bag was heavy. I think.) put the three of them into it, and took them to the Zuba Zubat gym.
"Oi, Lads!" called an unfamiliar voice. "Oh, fuck no!" groaned Damien. "What?" asked the recently thawed Paddy. (He just didn't want to get up. Lazy sh*te. What? Oh, fine. Sorry, Paddy.) "It's one of my many rival minor characters. He thinks he's Irish, but he's actually Oirish." "NNNOOOOOOOOOOO!" roared Seth.
"Not a minor Oirish character!" "OI, LADS!" repeated the newcomer. "Oi'm goin ta da Jym!" "What is he saying?" asked a fearful Seth. "Either he's going to the gym, or he wants directions to Paraguay." (it's the first one.) "Damo, me auld chara!" "Erm, hello, Seamus." "Didja getcher badge yet? And how're the min?"
"WHAT THE HELL IS HE SAYING!" cried Paddy and Seth together. "Looks loik yer man wit da ginger hair needs a spo' o' the auld anger management, ya know?" "DON'T CALL ME GINGER YOU B*ST*RD! AND I DON'T NEED F*CKING ANGER MANAGEMENT!" "AAAAHH! Stop wit da hittin me, ya f*ckin eejit!"
Two hours and sixteen minutes later, the four boys entered the gym in the town plaza. (Seamus having been dropped off at the nearby hospital) Damien called out, for no adequately explained reason, "I, Damien Farrell of Freshseed Town, challenge the gym leader of the Zuba City gym to an unnecessarily dramatic pokemon battle!"
"Dude, why did you just call out?" Paddy asked. "Weren't you listening? It was for no adequately explained reason." "Oh." "This story could really use some progress of the plot." interjected Jim, despite him not even knowing the meaning of the word interject until its use in this fan fiction.
Hey, you guys ain't our customers called a generic Mexican voice… from the roof. They looked up to see a Zubat facing them. Which would not have been odd, except for two things. One; it was wearing a sombrero. Two; it had a moustache. "Go, Quazlan!" Quazlan appeared from a pokeball holding a TV remote and a bag of Doritos. Dude! I was watching Scrubs! "But you have Sky+. You can just record it." Yeah, but still, you don't just interrupt Scrubs! It's just not…good. "Listen." muttered a disgruntled Paddy. "Just get this battle over with." Hey, you guys is gonna lose. called the Zubat.
Damien, why are they similar to characters from an parody series? It scares me. hissed Quazlan. "What the hell! You're a homicidal dragon. They're blind freakin' bats! Just be glad none of them have harpoons."
RRROOOOOAAARRR yelled a Crobat that none of them had noticed before. (Seriously, these guys should pay more attention.) You have stumbled upon our Mexican drug dealing ring. Now you will pay the price. But not literally. "Well, duh." I'm just saying… "No-one cares." Go, my drug-dealing army! Incapacitate them with pot! Not literally. Well, duh. Seriously, why is this guy our boss? He's big and mean.
The three Zubats turned to Quazlan. "Wait, are you using three pokemon at once?" Yeah. "But that's against the rules." Screw the rules, I have drug money. (Okay, I'll cool it with the Abridged Series references.) "In that case, I'll send out my Aljabar!" "What!" burst out Seth. "I caught this in the brief period between this chapter and the last, for no reason whatsoever." After the pokeball opened, an X-shaped purple pokemon with five eyes was floating alongside Quazlan.
"Aljabar, use Confusion! Quazlan, do something random!" the Confusion attack disoriented the Zubats without the need for intoxicants. Quazlan tensed up and his eyes glowed bright yellow. Nothing happened. Then he shot a Thundershock out of his mouth. It finished off the Zubats and also hurt Crobat. You little _! I kill you! (in case you're wondering, the line in the middle of the sentence means "insert swear word here") Crobat knocked Quazlan into a stone pillar, which collapsed. 111x+11y-12! (That means "Shit" in algebra) yelled Aljabar. "Oh, God!" called Jim. "Not Maths! It makes my brain sting."
"Ow, my brain!" Paddy, Seth and Crobat called simultaneously. "Aljabar!" Damien called. "Telepathically transmit equations into Crobat's brain!" {7367t-4352d+74633287i=532473275321854.1} The final 0.1 blew up what little mind Crobat had left. All that remained was a memory of a dancing Pachirisu. Damien walked over to a box. In it were gym badges shaped like Zubats. "I got a Zubadge from the Zuba City Zuba Zubat gym!" he proclaimed. "Not more words!" groaned Jim.
(So Damien has three pokemon now. I would say it's the beginning of the apocalypse, but that already happened.)
Aljabar: [psychic]: variable pokemon: NNNOOOO! It's evil! Because it's advanced algebra! NNNNNOOOOOOOOOOO!