Hello, everyone. Since Derpysquid seems to be busy writing Orange: The Untold Story, I have decided to create this thread specific to Mikey and his team.

Preface: Credit for the setting & Mikey's team to Lugia. Credit for pokéspeak to Alexxx on .

"A perfect storm"

(Written from Pidgeotto's POV)

Summer; the best time of year. All manner of fun was to be had outside, including, of course, battles.

Wing Attack!, Evan commanded. Already on it., I thought back smugly, as my left wing connected like a sledgehammer with the enemy Wartortle.

Water Pulse! Commanded Bridget, the green-eyed, brown-haired trainer who took the alternative title of "Mikey's girlfriend".

I almost got out of the way in time. Almost. "Geaa!", I squawked aloud as I was engulfed in a vibrating deluge of water.

Not so tough now, eh little bird?, Wartortle gloated. "Peahk!", I choked in response as I coughed up more water. ...you... you'll pay..., I thought, as reality swam back into my thoughts.

You still okay?, Evan asked, concerned. Y-yeah. But... not by much., I concluded, realizing how weak that water pulse had left me.

Alright, one more wing attack should finish Wartortle off., Evan said. R-right. I agreed, taking off and charging at the Wartortle once more.

"Till!" Wartortle cried as my wing once again connected, knocking her to the ground. You... win... this... time., as she gave one last attempt to right herself, before she slipped out of consciousness.

(Wait!) I thought to myself, blushing profusely as I realized that I knew her gender. (W-why did I look?!)

Return., Bridget said. Great job, Pidgeotto!, I heard Evan think, once again snapping me back to reality. T-thanks..., I mumbled, still aghast at myself.

Go, Lapras!, Bridget said. Another water type?, Evan thought in a mixture of surprise and disappointment. I should've brought Pikachu., he added. Lapras is different!, Bridget said indignantly. Besides,, she sneered. You didn't bring Pikachu.

So... are we going to ramble about me all day, or are we actually going to do something?, Lapras said, giggling.

Oh, right., Echoed both Evan and Bridget. You're pretty low on health, try a roost., Evan said. Got it., I thought, relaxing as my wounds were healed in an aura of feathers.

Water Pulse!, Bridget commanded again. W-wait! Not agai-!, I was cut off, once again engulfed.

"Guahk!", I sputtered once again, this time though, my thoughts refused to clear. -oost!, I made out dimly, but couldn't understand it in my current state. Hoping for the best, I tried for a wing attack, but instead crash-landed a few feet from my takeoff point. -Beam! I heard, presumably from Bridget.

There was a blue flash, a disoriented "dgeee!" from myself, and then everything went black.

(I... hm?), I thought, realizing that I was awake. The familiar feel of my room greeted my awakening. (Had... had we lost?), I thought, unsure of myself. Evan might not have brought Pikachu, but he had brought Luxio, so all hope wasn't lost. (Reverse psychology at it's finest.), I smirked.

At that point, two things dawned on me. First, the house's usual chatter had been replaced with an eerie silence, which I chalked up to it being about 5:30 p.m. on a Saturday. That meant that he was at the store, and would be until about 7. Even though Evan had left the bathroom door open ever since that incident, everyone, myself included, would usually tag along for fear of it happening again.

This brought me to my second realization; I had to pee. Bad. (I... what? But I went just before the battle with Bridget!), I panicked to myself. The battle had started at around 3:45, and it was 5:26 now. (I didn't drink much today... w-why do I-), Then it dawned on me. (H-how much of those water pulses did I swallow?!).

Then the real problem hit me. My door was shut. (Of course), I whined to myself, knowing that there was no possible way for me to open that door without thumbs. There was still an hour and a half left until Evan got home, and I already wanted to jam my wings between my legs in desperation. (W-why me?).

At first, it was relatively easy to distract myself from my bladder. Books were something I could actually manage. They were about a 4 on the 1-10 "How-difficult-is-this-to-use-without-opposable-thumbs?" scale. Paper was relatively easy for my wings to grip enough to turn the page, but the smooth, metallic knob of my door was a solid 8.

After a bit of reading, I had to cross my legs to keep myself sane. At first, I didn't want to look at the clock, afraid of what it would tell me; but I couldn't resist any longer. (5:52), I gulped.

By 6:07, it was becoming difficult to focus on the book. My bladder was incessantly stinging at my thoughts, and I had one wing squeezed into my groin. (C-c'mon Evan!) I pleaded.

I glanced out the window. An ominous, gray thunderhead was looming over the horizon. (The perfect storm.), I muttered sarcastically at my predicament.

It was 6:17, I put the book down in defeat, forced to focus entirely on keeping my swollen bladder in check. I squirmed in my bed, clamping down rhythmically both my wings, as the storm hovered ever closer. "ohtto...", an involuntary moan escaped me.

6:31, the pain in my bladder had gone from stinging to burning, and I was experiencing worse and worse waves of desperation. Then, a downpour started outside, causing me to wince and double over in agony. (W-why now?!), I cried in my head. My thoughts were becoming less and less coherent, and were interspersed with (Gottapeegottapeegottapee!)

It was 6:36 and 27 seconds. Seconds were becoming increasingly more like minutes, and minutes like hours. I was squeezing and rubbing myself harder and harder in an attempt to null the pain, which strangely, had started to work. Suddenly, I felt my desperation less and less, as it was replaced by... by... (Oh Arceus!) I screamed in my head, as I realized how close I was to letting out a certain non-yellow fluid.

(I-I can't j-just-), I winced. (I can't just do that!). I was out of tissues, so there was no way I could hide the evidence. (H-how could I explain that to Evan? A-and, if I go limp, I won't be able t-to hold it back any longer!).

So there I was, stuck between a rock and a wet place; in a sadistic balancing act of urges. I needed to rub to keep myself continent, but I couldn't do it too much, or else I...

"A-ah!", I moaned, feeling a little bit leak out, my eyes closed as tight as my wings were jammed in my crotch. (I-I don't think I can make it!), I panicked, feeling the small wet spot. I didn't know what time it was anymore, and I didn't have the mental energy to look. (A-Arceus, please!), I prayed; writhing in agony as wave after wave of need pulsed through me.

*KAPOW!*

There are few things that scare me, but lightning is one of them. "Ta!", I screamed involuntarily, before realizing that I had started to wet myself. (N-no!). With a Herculean effort, I managed to quell the flow. "Tohhh... tohhh...", I panted in rhythm with my squeezes, barely able to contain the remaining contents of my bladder. (I-it made it worse!), I shuddered. The warm, wet feeling in my crotch was making it next to impossible to hold.

It burned. My bladder felt like it was about to tear itself apart, and my urethra was on fire. Trying with all my might to keep myself from losing it again, I glanced desperately at the clock. (6:57, a-almost, I... I... ah-!), a particularly horrible wave of desperation overtook me, and I squeezed.

I shuddered, realizing in horror that I had gone too far. The orgasm overtook me in a simultaneous rush of ecstasy and agony. Despite nature's best attempts to make me happy, all I could think was (No... no...).

"N... A-ah!", I squawked, losing control of my floodgates. "Geee...", I gave one last desperate squeeze, before moving my wings away in defeat. "A...ahhhh...", I relaxed, finally letting my agonizingly distended bladder empty itself in an ecstasy as good as, if not better than, the first release.

The yellow river arched a few feet in the air, before settling in an equally yellow lake at the base of my bed. The mattress was ruined, but in the moment I couldn't care less. After a few minutes of bliss, the torrent trickled to a stop, and I saw Evan and the others in the distance, just a few minutes too late.

(I...I lost it!), I felt my stomach sink in shame, sobbing unrelentingly as I lay in my soaked bed. Thankfully, the urine completely drowned out the other liquid, so when Evan arrived, the embarrassment was only mortifying.

I'm... sorry., Mikey said solemnly, trying to comfort me. It was my fault. I shouldn't have closed the door..

But... I was so close!, I moaned. I could've made it if... if..., I trailed off, growing as red-faced as Pikachu's cheeks, as I realized where this was headed.

Evan, who didn't quite understand, thankfully made the wrong assumption. Was it... I, did you... give up?, he questioned, becoming red-faced himself. Not one to miss an escape, I managed a convincing I... maybe... We hugged, which created a whole new category of awkward, due my soaked state. Nevertheless, it helped comfort me.

Ever since that day, Evan has become much better at remembering to leave the door open, especially after I fight a water pokémon. Looking back, I've never seen such a perfect storm of events before then. Just my luck, I suppose...

Epilogue

Do not let it be said that I do not exist.

I am here, listening.

Might it be considered cruel to ignore his pleas?

Or send an inconvenient storm his way?

Perhaps.

However, I wish it to be known, that The Lord does not possess a "dry" sense of humor.

Relief is its own apology, anyways. I made sure of that.

Author's note: To future writers, Bridget is essentially a placeholder name. If Lugia wishes to change it, then that is fine.