Someone suggested this story to me, and I wrote the ideas down as he listed the craziness. Yes, it's simply a one-shot, and I don't plan on continueing it.
Disclaimer: I don't own Claire's, Pokemon, or any of it's characters.
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Once upon a time there lived a man named James. James was a member of an ingenious evil organization known around the world as Team Rocket, however always managing to screw up every perfect plan to catch a stupid yellow mouse like a bumbling idiot, which he probably, in turn, truly was.
One day, James decided to go out shopping for 'supplies.' "Ooh," he squealed, scanning the isle he was currently residing in at the well-known accessory store, Claire's, "Better stock up on Moonlight Rose perfume while it's on sale!"
So all was merry for James, that is, until his trusted partner in failing crime, Jessie, decided to intently spy on him, hiding behind a giant stack of Pikachu plushies. She snickered to herself, "Hehe, this'll show James for all the times my hair was cut off," she mindlessly ranted, sneaking up behind James and secretly cutting off his hair with a chainsaw. James, being slightly drunk at the time, failed to notice this action of disembodiment. Jessie ran off to donate the hair to Locks for Love, all the while grinning evilly, like evil villains do.
As soon as James arrived at the current sad cabin his 'team,' was currently staying at, not to mention the fact that it was just a sad abandoned cabin that some sorry soul probably died in, he went straight to the bathroom to apply his brand new perfume. Upon entering the bathroom, he saw his head, and what a terrible, jaggedy hair-cut he had gotten without his own personal knowing.
Hands to his head, he fell to his knees and cried and cried and cried and cried and cried and cried and cried and cried and cried and cried and cried and cried and cried and cried until he realized that he had a hangover from getting drunk earlier. Getting back up on his feet, and moving on to a last resort, he opened a drawer and pulled out an electric razor, all the while laughing menacingly, like evil villains do.
The next day, Ash, Brock, May, and the short kid with the goofy glasses were out walking, and just happened to be nearing the sad cabin Team Rocket was staying in. From out of no where, out popped a scary bald man, dressed in Team Rocket clothing.
May, the sorry excuse for a Pokemon Coordinator, pointed and screamed, "MICHAEL JACKSON!" and rushed to cover Max's eyes.
Ash, the overly clichéd, hot-headed, Pokemon trainer, rolled his eyes at the girl's freakish, yet logical reaction. "May, it's just James," he said in an overly monotone voice, "He's apparently turned himself into a freakish bald man. Besides, Michael Jackson isn't bald."
James blinked. "Freakish?" he squeeked. "JAMES IS TOO SEXY TO BE FREAKISH!" he screeched, running up to May and grabbing her by the shoulders. She flinched at his lack-of-hair presence in front of her. "So see ya, honey, I'm leaving!" were his last words before he decided to run off and escape to one of the only places where creepy bald men were truly accepted in this world: an old-school golf resort for old bald men, who liked to play golf and tell their strange and disturbing hair-loss stories. So James ran away and was never ever seen again.
But James, being James, he, unfortunately for some, was indeed seen again. Why, you ask?
"JAMES IS TOO SEXY FOR GOLF!"
So yeah. That didn't last too long. James went straight to a police station to report the person who chopped all his hair off.
"Help! Someone decapitated my hair and-"
"Jamesie-poo, is that you!" and overly happy voice chimed, in a very creapish way that would make even Jessie's hair stand on end. Yes, it just happened to be the overly-feminine woman who puts her wants military style: Jessiebelle.
For then Jessiebelle threw James into a jail-like cell and left him there to rot, er, I mean, rest for the night, the whole while James crying to himself about why he was there.
The next morning, James found himself on a bed. "Finally, you're awake," a familiar sarcastic voice said. James turned his head. Jessie? "Meowth and I had a heck of a time digging you out of that freaking jail, er, house," she said, rolling her eyes. "And in case you didn't know, I cut off your hair with a chainsaw and donated it to Lock for Love."
"WHAT!" James exploded, but Jessie quickly stopped him by showing him a bottle, "So in turn," she continued dryly, not really showing any sort of emotion, "I bought you some hair growth crap to make up for it. Do me a favor and don't waste our precious money on perfume. Or are you too much of a man to go without it?"
So they all lived happily ever after, that is, except for the people who wore the wigs made out of James' hair; they were cursed for all of eternity, being attacked by Victreebell and Cacnea wherever they should go.
The End
Moral – James is Too Sexy for Golf