Out on the steps of the gym, basking in the glorious light of the late afternoon, Pikachu scanned the horizon for his next enemy. He stood there, paw along his brow, staring and staring. Four hours had gone by until Pikachu heard a grumble from below and his stomach could no longer bear its emptiness.
Famished, Pikachu jammed his hand into his backpack, brushing aside the bloodied knives and Advil dust, and pulled out a yellowed and stained business card with a single name on it: Professor SmOak. He palmed the card, taking in a deep breath, feeling the full weight of the card and it's feathered rough edges. He put it into his mouth.
Instantly, a deluge of memories, visions, and horrors engulfed Pikachu's mind. His nerves twitched with spastic fire as chemicals coating the card launched his consciousness deep into the mindspace. The entirety of the world fell from his eyes and his gaze became a blend of textures; streams of glittering lights dancing with impish devilry. Round and round he spun, so quick, so fast, that he felt he might vomit. Then, suddenly, all was void and Pikachu found himself in the vast nothingness. A single voice, clean and true, bellowed in the darkness.
"My shorts are comfy and easy to wear."
Like a wild buck, gleaming with an unrestrained stature, Youngster Joey towered over Pikachu. A verified being of majesty, incomprehensible by the mortal mind. The aura espoused by his mere existence was so powerful it manifested beaming rays imbued with the hues of a thousand stars; the colors of the galaxies shot across the vast empty void in his wake.
"Boy, sit up. Try on my shorts. They're quite nice," demanded the young demi-god as he rapidly ripped off his clothing to reveal yet another pair of shorts beneath. A resounding crack echoed through the empty space as Youngster Joey struck an almighty pose: his shoulders squared, feet set apart, calves clenched, one hand firmly on his hip, and head cocked back so far Pikachu could no longer see his blinding face.
What is this? Could Youngster Joey truly be offering me the commencement shorts? Nervously twitching his tail back and forth and keeping his abashed face towards the ground, Pikachu, trembling, reached out towards the glowing, godly knickers hung on the demi-god's finger. As soon as he made contact with the shorts, Pikachu could feel the power surging through his veins, attempting to overpower Pikachu's own will. As he slipped on the otherworldly fabric over his body, he felt it's raw power lick at his fur and flesh.
This is no mere cloth! Exclaimed Pikachu as he felt a denim beast surging within his a starving animal, the shorts ravaged his spirit with a forceful, seductive, and choking command. The shorts were draconian master that would not be yoked by the weak, and Pikachu knew that if he did not succeed he would only be consumed by the shorts. Pikachu dug deep within his own sadistic nature and found power so insanely inhumane and corrupt that even the shorts, despite their terrific vigor and lust, were brought into submission beneath Pikachu's iron fist.
Looking up at Joey with bloodied, dilated eyes Pikachu declared the shorts his own; it's power and comfiness a substance obtained through might.
"May the shorts bring thee good fortune.'' said Joey deeply in the god-tongue.
"Yes, and may it's ease of wear bring thee youth." replied Pikachu.
Pikachu's eyes then opened. He found himself gazing at the dark purple evening, an hour had passed. A paperish residue from eating SmOak's card seemed to cling to his mouth, but, after further investigation, Pikachu discovered that it was just his imagination and that every visage of the card has disappeared, like a dream. Pikachu felt refreshed, the earth and air felt clean beneath his body. Although he was no closer to collecting a badge other than Brock's, and he was still starving and physically naked, Pikachu had obtained a spiritual clarity that was unmatched. Shorts in mind and Skratch in chains, Pikachu finally began his journey. He left Pewter City not as a mouse, but as a brother in the Fellowship of Comfort.