One day, Crudler Reinbach McHargon-Jargon XIV was sitting in a sunny field. The grasses waved and rippled around him as he pulled a hair behind his ear. He turned back to the small, plastic figurines he had brought with him.

"Oh, Prince Charming, I love you," he said acting like the woman figurine.

"I love you too, dearest," the male figurine supposedly replied back.

They kissed.

Crudler had a strangely feminine imagination for a male.

Suddenly....

"Crudler! Crudler!" It was a high-pitched, terrified scream. Not completely unlike his own father's voice.

"Dad! What is it now?"

"I-I can't tie my shoes and.... AHHHHHHHH!!!!!"

Crudler rushed to the voice, hidden in the waves of grass. There, lying in the rippling golden strands, was his father.

"Crudler... I... I"

"What is it, Father?"

"I...I'm.... dying....."

Unfortunately, Crudler's attention spa was not long enough for his poor father's pleas. He scampered off after some stray butterflies.

"Crudler! Get back here!"

"Sorry. What is it father?"

"I'm dying! And my shoes aren't tied!"

"Isn't that spiffy?"

"No! It's not!" he sighed. "Crudler, I've been murdered by-" His face paled into the icy cold look of death.

Yet again, Crudler ignored his father, because his attention had turned to a large rainbow fish sanding over his father's dead body.

"Who are you?" asked Crudler innocently.

"I am Mr. Fishee. Wanna drink, kid?"

"Sure, Mister!"

The fish extended a fin, and inside the transparent projection was a glass of milk.

"Golly gee, thanks mister!"

Crudler drank the whole thing greedily.

"MWAHAHAHA!! YOU HAVE JUST DRUNK POISONED PONY MILK!!"

Crudler wiped the milk mustache off his delicate features. "Gee, that's even better! You see, sir, before my mother died, she would feed me poisoned pony milk night after night to help me sleep. Eventually, I built up an immunity to poisoned pony milk."

"Curses! Foiled again!"

"I'm sorry. Hey, wait a minute... my father was poisoned..." Young Crudler's face twisted into a visage of apprehension. "You killed my father!"

"No, dear Crudler. It is far cornier than that simple plotline. You see, Crudler, I am your father!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"Okay, you're right."

Mr. Fishee paused. "That was easy."

"Yes, well, I' a child and therefore very gullible."

Mr. Fishee nodded. "I should have known."

"I'm even more gullible if bribed."

"Really?"

"Yes. Preferably with candy or small shiny objects."

Mr. Fishee suddenly bared his fans and pounced on little, helpless Crudler. "I AM REALLY A POKEMON!! COME, CRUDLER! WE MUST FIND ASH! THERE WILL BE BLOOD TONIGHT!!!!"

Mr. Fishee grabbed Crudler's hand and they departed though the waves of grass.