"Be quiet, Little Misty," Tracey said, a little impatiently. He'd been rocking her for about ten minutes and was beginning to get sick of it.

"Do you want me to have a go?" Brock asked, crawling out a cupboard he'd been cleaning out.

"Yeah, please," he begged, handing her over. "And please stop tidying our house! The professor will kill you, he'll never be able to find anything again."

"I can't help it," Brock muttered. "I can't stand mess."

"And this place is a pigsty, I know," Tracey admitted.

Little Misty wailed for a bit longer, then squeaked, and then finally yawned and went quiet.

"Ah, peace," Tracey smiled.

"Just like her namesake," Brock commented. "So darn noisy!"

There was silence for a moment. Then…

"You little worm, Ash Ketchum!" Misty yelled.

"Uh oh," Brock murmured.

"Idiot!" Misty continued.

"Don't you think you ought to stop them?" Tracey asked anxiously. "She might kill him or something."

Brock laughed. "There's nothing I can do to stop Misty; you just have to let her temper run its course. And dive out the way if she charges in your direction."

Tracey laughed too. "Oh, okay then."

There was silence, and then Misty yelled, "I'm going to kill you, Ash Ketchum!"

"What's up with her?" Tracey asked. "I mean, Ash hasn't said anything and—"

The kitchen door flew open and Misty charged in. Her face was red and she looked—err, quite mad.

"Something the matter?" Brock asked.

"YES!"

"Meeeeewwwwwwwwww!" Little Misty wailed.

"I'll take her in the garden," Brock said hurriedly, dashing out the back door, leaving Misty and Tracey alone in the kitchen.

"Err, so what's the matter?" Tracey asked nervously.

Misty sat on a stool for a moment, steaming. "I hate Ash," she muttered a moment later. "Do you know what he did?"

It was pretty obvious Tracey didn't, so he just shook his head.