Original Trainer Adventures
By Asha Leu/Cyclone49
My first fanfic in about two years. This was initially going to be a parody of an Original Trainer fic, but then I realized there's only so far you can go with a boring, perfect character and all his perfect Pokemon, and I thought it would be much better to simply do my own comedic Original Trainer fic, with a few elements of parody. This isn't meant to be very serious at all, but I still intend it to be a long running fanfic, and I'm going to try and be as accurate as possible when it comes to the Pokemon, etc (even though I haven't watched any episodes past mid-Johto, and I only got about half-way through Pokemon Saphire, so my Pokemon knowledge isn't really as good as it used to be). Anyway, please read and review.
Chapter 1: Stinky but lovable
It was a bright, sunny day in Slopbucket Town, a small village in the region of Crappe. The sun was shining, the Pidgies were singing, the Fearows were trying to eat the Pidgies and Bobby Sketchit awoke to the sound of his mother screaming in his ear.
"Wake up, you useless brat, waaaaaaaaaaaaaake up!" she screamed, as he groggily got out of bed. He was a slightly overweight eleven year old boy, with wavy, black hair.
"What's going on?" he asked groggily, still half asleep and annoyed at being woken up.
"It's time to start your journey as a Pokemon trainer," his mother replied, "You'd better hurry or all the good pokemon will be gone!"
"But I don't even like Pokemon," Bobby replied, "I want to go to university and become a doctor, not drop out of primary school at the age of eleven."
"Don't be silly Bobby," his mother, who was now dragging him downstairs and trying to force him out the door, replied, "All kids want to be Pokemon trainers. Now hurry up and get out, I've spent money on you for long enough, it's time for you to earn a living. Do you want to end up being a good for nothing bum like that lazy uncle Tracey of yours, forced to sell crack in a Mr. Mime costume just to pay the rent!"
"But I'm only eleven years old, I'll probably die out in the wilderness or get eaten by wild Rattatas, and being a Pokemon Trainer doesn't even pay money unless I win the Pokemon League, which is very unlikely considering how many different trainers there are, and to be honest I don't really want to spend the rest of my life traveling around making wild animals fight each other." Unfortunately, at this time his mother had already pushed him outside and locked the door. Faced with no other options, Bobby shrugged and headed over to the local laboratory, which was owned by Professor Oak.
He knocked on the door, and a groggy voice yelled, "I'm coming!"As Bobby waited, another boy walked up to the door. He was the same age as Bobby, and had curly, green hair and glasses.
"Hello Bobby." he said in a mocking tone. It was none other than Clyde Ivy, Bobby's most hated enemy. They had hated each other since preschool, when Bobby stole Clyde's lollies, and since then it got worse and worse, with Clyde stealing Bobby's Nintendo, then Bobby breaking Clyde's Chansey doll and laughing at him for actually having a Chansey doll, then Clyde throwing rocks through Bobby's windows, then Bobby letting out the tires in Clyde's bike, then Clyde setting Bobby's house on fire, and so on.
"What are you doing here?" Bobby demanded.
"I'm here to start my Pokemon journey," Clyde said, trying to sound impressive but basically just sounding like a jackass.
"But you couldn't even handle that school excursion where we camped in the local park, how are you going to survive in the wilderness for weeks at a time, where there are lots of hungry Pokemon who want to eat the very flesh from your bones?"
"I don't know, I just will!" Clyde snapped. At that moment, Professor Oak opened the door to greet them. He was a man in his late thirties with spikey red hair that was greying at the edges, a small amount of stubble, and vacant, bloodshot eyes.
"So, uh, I guess your here for your Pokemon..." Professor Gary Oak said in a tired, weak voice, "Come in," Bobby and Clyde followed him into the lab, which was a complete pigsty. "Excuse the mess, I had a bit of an, erm, get together with some other professors last night and I haven't really felt up to cleaning it up yet."
He shoved some beer bottles off a table in the middle of the room, which had three holes in it, presumable to carry pokeballs.
"Anyway, uh, choose your Pokemon!" He said, in a weak attempt to sound dramatic.
"Uh, Professor, there aren't any Pokeballs in that table," Bobby said.
"Wha? Oh, right!" Professor Oak said in shock, and his brain processed the table for the first time, "Uh, just wait a second." He walked into another room, and opened a large draw, much like those ones they have in morgues. It was packed with hundreds of pokeballs. He picked out three random ones, returned to the room, and placed each into a hole, "Uh, ta-da! Now, choose your Pokemon, and then get out of here, my head hurts."
"Um... what Pokemon are in the pokeballs?" Clyde asked.
"I don't bloody know," Oak muttered, "Just pick one for christ's sake. Stupid ungrateful kids, I used to be one of the greatest Pokemon trainers, and then one of my cheerleaders pressed sexual harassment charges, and suddenly I'm stuck in some crappy little town handing out Pokemon to stupid, misguided kids." Clyde and Bobby stared at him for a second, and then Bobby picked out the closest pokeball, and sent out the Pokemon.
"Uh... what the hell is that?" Bobby asked. It was a small, vaguely humanoid creature that seemed to be made of, well, shit. It had no legs, but rather large arms, and a grinning, happy face.
"Grime!" it said gleefully.
"That's Grimer, the sludge Pokemon." Oak said, holding his nose. Bobby and Clyde did the same, because the Grimer smelt awful.
"Um, can I get a different Pokemon?" Bobby asked, causing the Grimer's smile to disappear.
"No!" Oak snapped, as Bobby released it back into the pokeball. "Now, Clyde, pick a Pokemon so I can get back to sleep."
"Erm, aren't there other trainers coming later today to get Pokemon?" Clyde asked tentatively.
"Well, I'm sure not waking up twice in one day." Oak muttered, "Now, just pick your freaking pokemon!" Clyde picked the second Pokemon, and released it.
"Swine! Swinub!" it squealed. At first glance it looked like a miniature version of Cousin It, but on closer inspection, a round nose and two small, squinty eyes could be seen.
"Ah, that's Swinub, the pig pokemon. Anyway, you've got your Pokemon, so I'm off to take some aspirin and lie motionless for a few hours. Oh, and here are some Pokedexes. To get back into the good books of the rest of the scientific community, I want to create a database of every Pokemon known to man. However, I am very lazy, so I'll get you two to do it instead." Gary handed them the Pokedexes and walked off, leaving the two kids alone.
"So, you want to battle our Pokemon?" Clive asked, "Let's see who is the better trainer."
"Uh, okay, but I don't see how that proves our skill as trainers since we only just got our Pokemon and don't know anything about them." Bobby replied, as he sent out Grimer again.
"Don't confuse me," Clyde said a few seconds later, "Swinub! Use tackle!" The small little pig ran up to Grimer and charged head first into it, knocking it back a few feet.
"Grimer, use, uh..." Bobby paused, as he looked up the Pokemon's movelist in the Pokedex, "Use Pound!"
"Grime!" Grimer yelled, as it punched the the Swinub straight in the nose, covering its face with mud and excrement.
"Swinub! Use tackle again!" Clyde practically screamed. Why he was screaming was unknown, considering Swinub was about a metre away from him. It charged the Grimer again, scratching it with its claws.
"Pound it again Grimer!" Bobby said, as the disgusting creature punched the Swinub again, this time knocking it backwards.
"NUB!" It screamed as it charged towards Grimer before Clyde even said anything, tackling it the ground and attempting to punch it with its puny arms.
"GRIME!" Grimer gasped as it tried to push the psychotic little pig off it. It started punching the little thing repeatedly, and eventually Grimer threw the Swinub off it, where it skidded across the floor and stopped at Clyde's feet.
"Nub..." it said weakly, before fainting.
"Grimer... grime..." Grimer panted, struggling to stay up.
"Swinub, return..." Clyde said, "Well, I guess you beat me. But, nevertheless, soon we will meet again, and when we do, I will be far stronger, and I shall defeat you. Farewell, Bobby, until we next meet!" And with that he threw a smoke bomb at the floor, covering him in smoke. When it cleared, Clyde lay unconscious on the floor, passed out from the smoke, his "dramatic" escape plan having failed him.
"Grimer, return." Bobby said, laughing, and then left the lab, making sure to step on Clyde's unconscious body. As he walked down the road, he sent out Grimer again, which was still badly hurt from its last battle.
"Mer grime grimer grime grimer mer grimer..." it said weakly, which roughly translated to "Please, for the love of god, take me to a Pokemon Center..." But Bobby, who could only speak English, didn't understand him.
"Now, let's see what you can do." He pointed his Pokedex at Grimer.
"Grimer. The stink pokemon. They are known to reside in sewers, where they feed on mud and human excrement. Unlike their evolved form, Grimer's are not prone to random acts of sexual assault, and are more likely to simply spy on people in the shower. Their smell is so bad, even their pokeball is unable to mask it, and its trainer will be immediately repulsive to the opposite sex and the majority of the human race."
"Well. That's just great." Bobby muttered, as Grimer fainted.