CH02 – I'm just going to use this spot to apologize to everyone named Greg

Aero stood just outside of Oak's pokémon lab, aptly named "Oak's Pokémon Lab". It wasn't particularly difficult to locate, despite not being given directions, due to the fact that it was one of the few actual buildings in town, not to mention that it was the only one that looked even vaguely important enough to bother checking out in the first place. Also, there was a sign outside that said 'OAKS POKEMON LAB' on it in gigantic, bold lettering. That probably helped too. Off to the side was some unassuming bystander who was busy staring at said sign with a look of immense displeasure on his face as he battled with the desire to add an apostrophe to it with a permanent marker, but Aero was trying to ignore his presence completely.

Through one of the windows, there was a man in a lab coat strikingly similar to Oak's arguing with some pretentious ass that looked to be of similar age as Aero. They didn't see Oak at all, but entered the lab anyway because there weren't really any better options at the moment.

"Look, I know you're excited, but like I said, he's out right now. Why can't you just go do drugs somewhere until he comes back like a regular teen—" The researcher was interrupted by the sound of the front door opening and closing. It was one of those stupid doors with bells on it. They're very annoying. When he turned to look, he was met with the mildly annoying sight of yet another random teen preventing him from getting his work done. "Ah? I'm pretty busy right now, can I he—"

"Who the hell is this dweeb?" The original nuisance butted in, cutting the man's speech off for the second time in approximately five seconds.

Aero looked over their shoulder, then turned back. "I think you're seeing your reflection in the window there, bud."

The other teen took a step forward. "What was that, smart-ass?!"

*AHEM*

The scientist cleared his throat extremely loudly in a vie for attention. "Greg, you know your grandfather doesn't appreciate it when you act like this." He then turned his own attention back to Aero. "Did you need something from the professor?"

Greg, as the other teenager was apparently named, was visibly irritated, but decided to let it go for the moment (but only because he was busy thinking about how cool he was). He was a real piece of work though: heavily groomed hair and a polo shirt with the collar popped in just the right way as to perfectly accentuate how capable he was in the sacred art of being a doofus.

"Yeah, I guess he isn't here?" Aero made a quick survey of the laboratory just to confirm. "He told me to come by when I was ready..."

"Ah yes, he—" Once again the scientist found himself being cut off by an outburst from the peanut gallery.

"You have to be kidding me! THIS loser is the other new trainer Gramps mentioned? What a letdown!"

"You're gonna be sayin' letup after I start punching your teeth out through the back of your skull, bucko."

"Big words, but my name isn't bucko, bucko. Who the fuck wears a lime green t-shirt?"

"Who the fuck pops their collar anymore?"

"Faggot."

"I'm glad I'm more confident in my sexuality than you are..."

"ENOUGH ALREADY!" The aide on duty was starting to get a headache, and was acutely aware of how little he had been able to accomplish today. "This isn't the time or place for you two to be acting like petulant, little children on the playground! Even if you are legally ten. Greg, you should know better by now." He turned to address Aero. "And you, I'd ask that you don't instigate, please."

"Hmph, whatever!" Greg crossed his arms and cocked his head to the side. "I was just expecting a rival worthy of my caliber is all."

The scientist facepalmed and shook his head, but decided to leave it at that. "...Professor Oak stepped out for a few moments and should be back in a little while. If you could come back later, I'm sure he'll be around then. I can't have both of you running around the lab, I'll never get anything done today at all."

"Okay, fair...guess I'll go do drugs somewhere until he comes back like a regular teenager then. Later." Aero turned and headed back out of the lab the way they came.

The scientist looked back at Greg, who was still adamantly rooted in place determined to be a plague on society for as long as he lived. "See, Greg? You should try to be more like that. They set a good example."

"Stuff it, egghead."

Aero stood outside again, a little way off from the lab, and stretched their arms over their head. "Well now what? I wanted to get this over and done with..." Aero absentmindedly prodded a pebble on the side of the road with their foot for a few moments while staring at the laboratory's sign trying to remember if there was always an apostrophe on it. "Eh, screw it. Guess I'll just leave on my own, and figure it out from there." Aero promptly headed in the direction that didn't require a means of transoceanic travel.

After following the only road in town to it's conclusion, Aero wound up near Pallet's boundary lines. Apparently nobody had the budget to maintain roads in Kanto, because the grass was overgrown to the waist in many places making it practically impossible to avoid wading through even if you wanted to. Since Aero's home region was just as bad, if not worse most of the time, such a thing didn't affect them very much at all and they just curled their hands into their pockets and attempted to plow right through it.

Aero's leg only made it partially beyond the veil of greenery when someone's hand gripped them firmly by the shoulder from behind. "Hold it there! Wild pokémon hide themselves in tall grass like that!"

Aero's eyes darted to where the offending hand was and discovered the good professor himself. Aero's mouth opened to say something, but Oak grabbed their arm and yanked them completely out of the grass before forcefully dragging them all-the-fuck-the-way back down the road towards the laboratory. "Ow! What the hell?! This is assault, let go!" Aero struggled against the elderly professor's kung-fu action grip. Oak was surprisingly strong despite his age, evidently.

"Why do you kids never listen to me? I told you to SEE. ME. AT. MY. LAB. before you left, didn't I?"

"I did, and you weren't there! Why do I need a pokémon from you, anyway?" Aero dug their heels into the ground, but failed to accomplish anything other than to kick up dust.

Oak ignored Aero's pathetic struggles to break free and continued dragging the teen back towards the lab. "What are you going to do without a partner pokémon if you get attacked by a MissingNo or something?"

"Ow! You could be a little more gentle at least...what the fuck is a MissingNo?"

"Hell if I know, but it sounds dangerous." Oak stopped momentarily upon reaching the entrance of his lab, but only long enough to fling open the door. "Okay, in you go!" Oak turned and grabbed Aero with both arms and shoved the trainer-to-be inside.

Due to the force applied, Aero tumbled backwards and fell on the floor for the second time in one day. "...Ow."

"Ha! What the hell kind of faggot-ass entrance was that?" Naturally, Greg and Oak's aide were still in the lab too. Go figure.

Oak entered behind Aero and closed the door while Aero was busy standing back up and flipping Greg the bird. The aide, who was apparently unsuccessful at persuading Greg to leave him alone for two minutes, walked briskly to greet his boss's return. "It's good that you're back, I've been tr—"

"Yes, yes, that's nice." Oak picked the aide up by his shoulders and moved the poor researcher to the side with little effort. "Go over there and watch porn or something until I'm done, thanks." After dislocating his aide, he shouldered past Aero and marched over to his grandson. He grabbed a stray clipboard off a desk on the way, and smacked Greg over the head with it.

"YEEEOOOOOWWW!" Greg clutched his head in pain. "What the hell was that for, Gramps?!"

"You know what it was for, you ungrateful little shit! If I hear the word faggot come out of your goddamn mouth one more time, I'll beat your ass so hard that you'll be shitting out of your dick afterwards!" Oak tossed the clipboard aside, since it was finished serving it's primary function as a disciplinary device, and then faux-cleared his throat to make sure the two not-really-children were paying attention to him. Oak gestured to a table nearby that had three pokéballs placed on it as Aero moved to join the two on the other side of the room. "Over there are some random pokémon I pulled out of storage earlier. You can both pick one. I don't care which."

Greg immediately hopped over to the table and shouted "I CALL DIBS!" before snatching up the red and white ball in the middle and holding it triumphantly over his head like a dunce.

Oak wanted to beat his grandson again, and immediately regretted tossing the clipboard so far out of reach. He looked over to gauge Aero's reaction, but they might as well have been in catatonia so he decided to let it go for the time being. Oak turned his attention back to Greg, who was still busy posing with a small capsule device. He became more than a little worried when he saw which pokémon his grandson had chosen. "Now Greg, that's a charmander...it's a flaming lizard..."

"Yes! I want this one."

"It's also a massive pain in the ass to raise. I think someone of your, uh, particular talent should choose something else maybe..." Oak motioned to the ball closest to him. "like a bulbasaur. It's a lot more your...skill level."

"What? That name sounds gay as shit," Greg's grandfather gave him the evil eye, but he was too busy acting like a jerk-ass to notice. "I'll stick with the bad-ass fire pokémon."

"Hmm...well okay, some lessons just have to be learned the hard way I guess..." Oak looked at Aero with expectant eyes. "Well then, I suppose you're next."

Aero glanced over at the table which still had two pokéballs remaining on it, but before anything else could occur Greg spun around and grabbed the one Oak had called bulbasaur. "Here, this one is really speaking to me." Greg tossed the pokéball at Aero, who caught it reflexively before it hit them in the face. "And it's saying that it sucks as much ass as you do—" Oak couldn't restrain himself and reached over to smack Greg upside the head with the palm of his hand, "OOWWWW!"

"Aero, you don't need to take that one. You can have the squirtle instead if you want it." Oak eyed the remaining pokéball on the table, still undisturbed. "Greg in his infinite impulsivity has set you up to be at the disadvantage, which would have been pretty smart for him if it wasn't by complete dumb luck, but it wouldn't be fair of me if I didn't give you a choice."

"Nah, I don't really care that much." Aero tossed the pokéball, supposedly containing a bulbasaur, up and down idly. "Besides, a disadvantage will just make me look good when I kick your grandson's ass."

Greg took the bait, because how could he resist? "Oh, you did NOT!"

"Pretty sure I did."

"What the fuck makes you think that some absolute loser like you could beat someone like me? My older brother is a gym leader! That's the kind of talent my family has!"

Oak coughed into his hand. "Well that's the kind of talent Blue has anyway..."

"Am I supposed to be impressed?"

Greg pointed at Aero with an over-dramatic snap of his fingers. "Fine then, I'm challenging you right here and right now!"

Oak threw up his arms in exasperation. "I haven't even explained how battling works yet, Greg!"

Oak's grandson was too upset to pay him any attention though and hurled his pokéball out into the middle of the floor. "Go, Charmander!"

The capsule device hit the ground for a moment, bounced into the air, and...fell apart into two halves on the ground. A runny orange-colored liquid splattered out of the orb along the ground, forming a puddle of charmander goo.

The three stared down at the puddle on the floor in dead silence. Greg was the first to break it. "...Why did my charmander turn into orange soda? Was it supposed to do that?"

Oak shook his head slowly with a finger pressed to his forehead. "No Greg, why would you even think that?"

Aero stared at their own pokéball for a few seconds before lobbing it towards the mess already on the floor out of curiosity. As expected, the ball fell apart and green goo leaked out of it. The two liquids ended up mixing together to form an unsavory brownish color.

Oak just sighed. "This is what I get for using the cheap balls, I guess..."