Disclaimer: Violins taste like wood.
Uh oh, another chapter of MTR. That means more random insaneness – which could be a good thing or a bad thing either way you look at it, I guess. O.o Anyway, yeah. Here is Max the Robot once again...FTW.
...
A lone creature lurked out from its isolated corner. It was small, had two white strips coming out from its sides and smelled like rotten cheese. It had been awakened by the sound of typing fingers on a keyboard of a Windows Vista laptop. The sound of typing reminded it of the day it had been so rudely booted aside in hopes that it would be forgotten. A growl formed from deep within itself as it approached its unsuspecting prey at the computer.
"You thought you got rid of me," the creature seethed, its voice causing the writer wanna-be to turn and face it. "You thought you got rid of me but you didn't. You didn't! You shall never be rid of me! NEVER! And I will find a way to snoop myself back into this story if its the last thing I do...oh, just look at you. You pathetic, ungrateful thing. I can't believe you would do this to me." It twirled its shoelaces up in fury. "I'll give you one last chance. Put me in this story now, or face the wrath of my toe fungus attack!"
"But I can't," the author protested casually, taking a drink of chocolate milk. "There's no soda left in the house. And I'm afraid it's only possible for me to put you into this story on the account of me getting high on caffeine."
"You will put me into this story."
"No, I will not."
"You will."
"Not."
"Will, GOSH DARNIT!" The shoe ate Wolfy's left foot, because it was covered in a delicious, stinky sock. The sock exploded, and so did the chocolate milk. And good 'ol Wolfy – now with an empty, cold, sockless foot – got back to typing, because people are much more interested in reading about a stupid Ash and a robot Max than a fanfiction writer drinking chocolate milk and arguing with a psycho sneaker.
...
Anyway...where were we again? Ah yes.
...
From the far corner of the cage in the wall, a large, funnel-like tube appeared. The tube branched down into the cage in front of the unsuspecting boy, who yelped in surprise as he leaped away as to not get hit. From out of the tube, a platter stacked with unidentified substance (with a plastic wrapping on top to keep the stuff warm) plopped into the area of the cage. The boy, curious, leaned in to see more of the mysterious tube – however, he was again forced back as three more platters looking much like the last followed suit and clanked down onto the cold, hard floor. Then, as soon as the tube had appeared, it was gone, recoiling itself back into a hole in the wall which automatically shut, making it look like nothing had happened at all.
The boy sat there and poked at the mush with a nearby stick on the platter in front of him. "Ooh," he exclaimed. "Squishy."
Everyone else sweatdropped. "What luck," muttered Misty. "How heartless can these people be, anyway? Who would be so cruel and unkind to such poor, starving children? They're monsters!"
"A better question is, why did icky turd just come out of that mysterious tube?" Ash asked with a sickened look on his face. "It's smelly! Kind of fun to poke, though." He took the stick and poked at the brownish-green gunk some more.
"Ash, stop poking it." Brock demanded calmly. "It might be poison or something. And poison could kill you! You don't want to be poisoned, Ash. If you're poisoned, you can never become the Pokemon Master!" Ash gasped and flinched, scooting away from the mushy article of rotten food/poison/etc. Brock continued. "We must be cautious when investigating this foreign...stuff, that just happened to appear here. It may call for a crisis situation if we don't."
"Pi. Pika pika." said Pikachu, but no one understood a 'pika' of it. However, that was beyond the point. What mattered, is that the yellow mouse was curious too. He stepped up toward the plate of glop and slowly put his nose to it.
"What's Pikachu doing?" Ash did not fail to ask.
"Pikachu seems to be smelling the unknown material so that he can warn us if it's poisonous." Brock observed wisely. "Pokemon have always been ready to protect their trainers in times or hardship and through thick and thin. Pikachu must not be different. He (somehow) feels a connection with you as his trainer and wishes to be your loyal friend. And protecting you from eating diseased food is probably what he's doing to show his affection."
Ash's eyes sparked with joy and love for his beloved pokemon. "Oh, Pikachu! You're a great pal!" he assured the electric-type.
Pikachu appeared not to listen, but finally seized enough courage to take a whiff of the gloopy, slimy, diarrhea-like meal set out before him. In one mere sniff, Pikachu's eyes became swirlies and he coughed and hacked, rolling on the floor while moaning and cupping his paws around his nearly broken nasal cavity.
"I'd say it's edible enough." Ash noted with a shrug, as the theatrical scene continued to play – Pikachu now clutching onto his throat with both paws as he fell to his knees, faking an incredibly woeful death.
"Ugh, that's disgusting, Ash." Misty snorted, wrinkling her nose. "You'd have to be pretty desperate to allow junk like that to clog up your arteries."
Ash grabbed a fork and piled into a plate, his hunger obviously taking over his mind for the time being. "Oh, come on Misty, it can't be that bad! If that evil person with the ring and the hairbrush sent it down to us, it has to be edible in some way or another!" he encouraged with confidence. "Plus...if you don't eat it, you might starve!"
Misty sweatdropped and heaved a sigh. "Personally, I think I'd rather starve first."
"I'll pass too." added May softly, her voice a rare one to be heard as she was mostly too busy letting thoughts of Max and his robotness plague her mind.
Ash laughed. "Ah well, suit yourselves! More for me then!" He dove into the the pile of who-knows-what as his friends watched with a mix of amazement and disgust. Pikachu's death-scene meanwhile, had come to an end and the yellow mouse lay on the ground, tongue sticking out and with a tiny paw to his heart.
All of a sudden...a voice out of nowhere! "So, I take it you children have enjoyed your dinner?"
Ash's head rose from the meal he was so quickly devouring. "It's Wil!"
Misty put her hands on her hips. "I thought you said you had important business to attend to?"
The geeky man on the other side smirked and lifted his glasses just a tad bit. "You are correct, I did indeed have some important business. I had an intellectual chat with my Mistress about her plans for world domination and more importantly..." He chuckled. "What to do with you little brats. And we came to a census, that we did..."
"Please, don't kill us!" begged May, clutching her hands around the bars. "At least before you do, let me see my brother again! Please! It'll mean so much if I could just at least speak my last words to Max!"
William lifted his brow. "Who said anything about killing?"
May went silent, her tensed body relaxing a whole lot more as she resleased her grip of the iron bars. "...you mean...you aren't going to kill us?..."
"No. Well, not yet at least." William assured. "Keeping you in that dirty old cage for all these hours really doesn't add up to any worth whatsoever. As long as you prisoners are here, you might as well do something to help us out, now hmmm?"
Brock saw the gleam in the nerdy scientist's eyes with the last sentence and he couldn't help clenching his fist. "There's something awfully wrong about this...he's planning something...and if we disobey his orders, we could be automatically eliminated...looks like we have no choice but to do as he says..."
Ash frowned. "Aw, and I didn't even get to finish dinner yet!"
...
"Oh, my! What a fun contest! And of course, without May there, I had to win that ribbon. That silly May. Always winning those contests like a little Mary-Sue! But for once, she wasn't there, now was that sweet little girl? Haha! Oh, I am such a great coordinator, and now finally, people can come to appreciate the wonder that is me! Talent and good fashion – May could never add up! Never! In fact, in all these contests -"
"OK...I think I get your point already, now will you just shut up?"
"Awww...you're no fun, Drewsie-Pants, you know that? You're just jealous that I happened to win that contest, and you never stood a chance...especially without -"
"I said shut up! Geesh!" The green-haired boy rubbed his temples. "Gawd, you get on my nerves! In fact...I don't even like you! You're a creep that dresses like a cacturne and sounds like Barney the Purple Dinosaur – honestly, I don't know where my dignity went when I decided to follow you!"
"I already told you, you silly Lettuce Head." Harley replied. "May's pathetic excuse for a brother seems to have an intriguing quality about him. I know this has to be one of May's little secrets and as long as I can get my hands on it, I'll find a way to turn it against her in the next competition!"
Drew stopped in mid-walk. His eye twitched. "What...did you call me?"
"Lettuce Head?" Harley repeated, but before he could say anything else, Drew made a loud wailing noise that seemed quite unfitting for his nature.
"I've told everyone a million times!" he cried out. "Don't call me Lettuce Head! I am...not...to be mistaken...with a vegetable...!" He put his hands to his eyes and sobbed. "I don't even like lettuce, all it tastes like is leaves with a bunch of tomatoes thrown into it! Just because I have green hair, everyone automatically assumes...'Oh, he must be a vegetarian, only someone who could eat too many greens would have his hair turn that hideous shade'! You know what, this hair colour is natural. NATURAL. I was born with it! I'm not some vegetable-obsessing freak! And you know what? Vegetables are overrated! If it were my choice, I'd never eat them!" He pouted into his arm, feeling a bit emotional after the personal rant.
"Awww, poor little Lettuce Head, should I get you a drink?...how about some Italian dressing!" Harley said in a sickingly sweet voice, mostly to get on the green-haired boy's nerves.
Drew's green eyes slanted, his sentimental self quickly being replaced with that of fury. He lowered his hand down to a pokeball and brought it up to his face before calling out the pokemon from within. "Masquerain, silver wind!" he ordered, pointing towards Harley.
The flying/bug type, coming out from the red and white ball it called home, obeyed immediately and shot out a huge wave of sparkly wind at Harley, practically knocking the wind out of him! (sorry, that one just kinda slipped out...)
"Oh noes! Perfection is ruined!" yelled the man in the cacturne suit as he gained composure from the attack, trying to wipe off the dirt on his outfit received from his fall to the ground.
"Hmph." Drew responded, flicking his hair. "That's what you get for messing with us, eh Masquerain?"
"Masqueraaaaaiinnn!" the pokemon agreed, spinning around in the air joyfully.
"Ugh...the nerve of you, Drewsie." Harley scoffed. "You and May would be a perfect couple – both annoying, vile little children whos' strategies to play fair always overcome my super-genius evil plans! Ugh! I'd allow Cacturne to get revenge on you for that, only there are more important things to focus on that don't include wasting my time with a lettuce-headed, vertically-challenged beast of a boy!"
"Oh yeah...what were you saying you called me out here for, anyway?" Drew quired, somehow keeping his cool through his annoyance. "You're right, all this goofing off is an enormous waste of time that I could be using to prepare for the next contest!"
"Who cares about the contest?! If we stay with the mission, we might find out something a lot more important than that!" Harley argued.
Drew blinked at Harley, then snorted. "OK, so what is this, a mission now?! This is all stupid. Personally, I don't give an phanpy's crap about the private life of May's brother! In fact, I never even cared about her brother, he's just some geeky kid with an abnormal amount of knowledge! I really don't understand what you find so interesting about this...all I know, is that you can count me out!" The boy turned to leave but was stopped short as Harley clutched onto his arm, preventing escape.
"Hey! Let me go, gosh darnit! I have my rights!" Drew retorted, trying to free his arm from the grip. "I swear, I'll call the cops on you if you don't leave me alone!" He saw his pokemon floating up above, looking shocked over the situation. "Masquerain! Scary Face!" he called out to it.
"Mas...masqueraaaaain!" the pokemon bellowed, making a horrifying face down at its target. Harley, not enjoying the view of the ugly face turned away in disgust, letting go of Drew's arm.
"Fine. Whatever." he replied sourly, waving his hand to get rid of Drew. "If you don't want to be a part of witnessing possibly one of May's most private and devious secrets, then get your hideous salad head out of my sight! Go on now...shoo! Get!"
"You know what? Maybe that's what I've been thinking from the start! I don't need to bruise my ego hanging out with a weirdo like you." Drew countered, rolling his eyes. "Come on Masquerain," he gestured toward his pokemon as he once again turned to leave. "Let's get out of here."
"Hmph. Never liked him, anyway." Harley huffed. "I'll just go in and investigate myself." Without anything more to slow him down, the purple and green-coloured man made his way back down the original path he was taking before – the path to the evil fortress (or at least, to the extent of where he thought it was).
-cue background music that sounds suspiciously like an evil version of Pink Panther-
"Ahahahahahaha!" a voice laughed against the music. The owner of the laugh removed the binoculars from her eyes as Harley walked away to the fortress. "It looks like we're in luck! That pathetic robot of a twerp may have beat us before, but now we can finally get our revenge! How do you think the boss will like it when we bring him back something even better than a rare and powerful pokemon? That robot can withstand pokemon attacks and even has free weapons complete with the overall package! Just think of the lovely paycheck we'll get for capturing that geeky twerp...I can see that vacation in the Orange Islands already! Let's go get him, guys!"
"..."
The woman sweatdropped. "Guys?!" she repeated. "What the...where the H-E-Double-Hockey-Sticks did you go? You should be over here, helping me be annoying!" She turned around, looking for the disappearance of her partners in crime – when, ah ha! There they were, sitting sprawled out in the grass right next to none other than...oh Arcues no...not that...
"...and you won't ever guess what she did to me then..." the voice crackled from inside a small black radio. "She fed me...five minutes late. I swear, it was the worst moment of my entire life! I felt so weak...so intoxicated by hunger, I thought this very well would've been my death! But it gets even worse...my human, she...she...gives me DRY FOOD?! Excuse me? What kind of terrible world is this?! Dry food is for chumps! Oh, woe is me! It was a terrible day! A terrible TERRIBLE day!..."
The cat-like pokemon, Meowth, sniffed and wiped away a tear as he listened. "Ain't dat da truth, bruddah!" he cried, raising his arms.
James rolled his eyes. "Oh, Meowth, that is so booooooring," he complained. "I wanna listen to music, not some cat whining about his shortage of Fancy Feast® gourmet cat food!"
"You has absolutely no appreciation for da feline race!" Meowth accused. "We lead very challengin' lives, you know! But...OK, ya know what, fine. If yer dat desperate, go ahead and listen to dat Disney Princess CD or whatever crap it is you humans listen to."
"YAY!" James squealed delightedly, reaching for the radio.
"Hold on a minute!" Jessie ordered before anything else could be done. Her eye twitched at the sight of the radio. "Where did you get that?!" she asked, pointing at the object in question. "I thought I got you two iPods so you wouldn't blast that stupid thing!"
"Uh, ya did, but...you see..." started Meowth, scratching his chin nervously. "Remember how ya tried ta throw da radio into dat pile of lava before we founds out it wasn't flammable and completely indestructible?"
"Well, the iPods were neither flammable, nor indestructible!" James finished. "Burst right up into flame and that was the end of them. Unfortunately the experiment cost us the iPods but the good news is that it looks like we'll never lose our radio!" He hugged the beloved man-made contraption and Meowth joined in, purring as he stroked the smooth, black surface.
Jessie gasped horrifically and slanted her eyes. "Those iPods cost me half a year of our salary!" She threw her left boot at James and he fell to the ground in a daze. Meowth pointed and laughed. Jessie threw her right boot at Meowth and he suffered a similar fate.
"Ah, geez..." James responded as he got up, rubbing his cranium. "Why couldn't you just give us the paper fan or mallet treatment like you usually do?"
Jessie shrugged. "The sneaker didn't get put back into the story so it was the best we could do. Anyway..." she started, getting back on subject. "If you two nincompoops have been paying attention before, you would have realised that we have just gotten a chance to seize the opportunity of stealing Max the Robot and giving him to the boss...and that opportunity is slowly slipping away between our fingers as you two sit your lazy butts around like couch potatoes!"
"Oh, so ya've found da robo-twoip?" Meowth quired, ecstatic. "Where'd he go? Lemme at 'em!" He put his fists up as if he were about to be placed in a boxing ring.
"Shhh! Shut up!" Jessie hissed. "We're going to follow that deranged Barney twerp and he'll lead us to where we want to go. But if you don't keep quiet, he'll hear us and we'll be goners! Or worse...he'll make us join forces with him just so he can win a contest and force his cookies that taste like frozen pieces of ponyta crap down our throats!"
James and Meowth gulped loudly, covering their mouths and nodding in understanding. Now that was a punishment too severe to risk...and one what wouldn't be risked as long as they had anything to do about it.
...
"So...do you care to explain to us what you've been planning on doing with us?" asked Misty, getting fed up with the waiting. She, Ash, Brock, May and even Pikachu had been taken out of the cage – however, William had fastened ankle weights – those heavy ankle things that prisoners wear – around each individual's ankle, preventing escape.
"Yeah, and could you loosen the grip on this thing?" Ash asked. He attempted to lift his foot with the ankle brace before yelping in pain and setting it back down. "It hurts a lot, and it's hard to walk in!"
Pikachu sweatdropped, his own ankle weight probably weighing more than himself alone. "Bigga bi? Peekachu. (You're complaining? I can't even move at all!)."
"SILENCE, ALL OF YOU!" William retorted, almost sending the kids's skins flying right off of them in pure terror and surprise due to his voice's volume. Once everyone was quiet (including Ash, who tried his best to hold in a whimper) William smiled satisfactorily. "That's better," he said softly, his voice the only thing to be heard from miles away in the evil fortress. He began to pace around in front of the four children and the mouse as he explained his plan.
"Now," he began, clearing his throat. "Like I said before, I had been talking it over with my Mistress and she thinks it is a good idea that we find...a usefulness for you, per say. Since the five of you are visiting, she finds it appropriate that you handle the things that she's never had the time or energy to do while she's been working on her evil plan for world domination."
"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid we can't help you out with your plan." Brock declared bravely. "My friends and I have never worked for anything evil because we're the good guys. Helping out with world domination would ruin our reputations forever."
William stopped walking. "Pffft..." he said, waving his hand. "Of course you guys won't be helping out with our evil work. You'd be way too bad at it. I think having the five of you on our side is only going to ruin our own reputations worse." He shook his head. "No, no, no. You guys will be taking care of something else. Something a lot more up your alley." Before he could go on any further with what he was saying, he pulled out a list from behind his back.
"Alright...allow me to give you your assignments." William commenced. He pointed a finger toward Ash. "You." he said. "The little idiot in the hat and jacket."
Ash looked around. "Who, me?"
William sweatdropped. "Yeeeess....you. See any other idiots around matching that description?" Indeed, at that very moment in time, there was baltoy with a hat and a jacket outside the window spinning around and around like the idiot it was...but everyone ignored it, mostly because they didn't even notice it was there.
"Ooooh! I have been chosen...but when does that come as a surprise?" Ash laughed. "I am, after all, the Chosen One!"
"Save your breath, hot stuff..." Misty muttered under her breath.
"Yeah, yeah, you've been chosen. Woop de freaking doo." William replied, rolling his eyes. "Anyway, yes, you and...that girl over there..." He pointed at May, who immediately snapped out of her thoughts upon hearing her name. "You two cute little kiddies will start...with the dishes."
Exclamation points went over each and every head after the job had been described. Misty looked like she wanted to bang something to death with a mallet or rip a piece of raw steak apart with her teeth. "Wait...you want us to do chores?!" she repeated, mostly out of shock.
William shrugged. "Well, like I said, we've never had time to do that kind of thing. All these chores really need some work...like the dishes for example. They've been piling up for weeks and we're starting to run out of clean ones. We would've had to use paper plates soon, only you guys will be taking care of it so there will of course, be no need to bother."
"But...but...I'm a Pokemon Master!" Ash quipped. "I battle pokemon, not sauce stains! At home, Mom would always get angry when I did the dishes because I somehow always did it wrong!"
"Ash, that's probably just because you used the toilet cleaner instead of the dishwasher detergent." Brock reminded the hysterical boy. "You've done it before countless times...you just need to look at the labeling of products more carefully, and you'll be fine."
William sweatdropped and turned his gaze on May. "Watch that kid closely, alright? No funny business."
May could do nothing more than merely nod to ensure him she would obey orders.
William went back to his list. "OK, and then the girl with orange hair and the guy without eyes..." he ordered, looking in the direction of Brock and Misty. "Your first job will be the most important of them all. I'm leaving you responsible of cleaning the bathrooms."
Misty and Brock's jaws dropped all the way down to the floor. "We're responsible...of WHAT?!"
"Oh, you know..." William explained further. "Scrub the toilets, scrub the sinks, scrub the showers – that kind of thing. I want everywhere to be spic and span. Squeaky clean. Pure white. And use some Febreze to eliminate the foul odors. You got that?!"
Misty and Brock groaned, helpless in the decision of their destiny.
"Pi! Peeka pi, peeka peeka! (Hey, where exactly does that leave me?!)" Pikachu asked, flapping his arms in the air to get the nerdy man's attention.
"Oh...of course I can't forget your adorable pokemon." William chuckled. He stared down at Pikachu. "Your job, little mouse, is nothing other than just standing here and being a good little boy." He bent down to pat Pikachu on his head. The little rodent growled, and started up a thunderbolt attack.
"Peeka...CHUUUUUUUUU!"
Instead of zapping William like he intended, Pikachu had rather felt the power of the shock hit back at himself and he cried in pain. William smirked.
"Pikachuuuuuu!" Ash wailed as he extended a hand out, the sight of his hurt Pikachu too much to bear.
"Oh please, do not worry about your electric attacks, young mouse." William falsely assured the yellow creature. "They have not been taken away from you. You have just been equipped with a handy shock collar, that's all. If you try to shock me or anybody at all, it will shock you back so you will think twice about trying the same thing again."
"Pi...pika! Bigga bigga! Chu! (No! No! It's not true! It can't be!)" the pokemon screamed, trying to fire another streak of thunder at the man he deemed cruel and unworthy of his presence. Like William said before, the attack merely injured Pikachu in the process, making him weaker.
"Haha. Sucks to be you." William snickered. "Maybe that'll teach you a lesson not to mess with me."
"Oh no...what'll we do?" Ash gasped, at a loss. "We're being forced to do chores and Pikachu is getting hurt really badly!" He stuck out his lower lip at the enemy as his brown eyes welled up with tears. "I don't like you anymore, Wil! You're a meanie!"
William just continued smirking. "Well, yelling and crying at me isn't going to help anything. You four get to work..." He looked down at Pikachu, who was now panting tiredly as it tried to break free. "And I'll take good care of the mouse."
So...Misty and Brock went one way as May and Ash went the other. The pokeshippers reading this fic wailed in dismay at what Wolfy had done while the gymshippers and advanceshippers rejoiced at their chance of hopefully seeing passionate romance or something silly like that. Contestshippers eagerly wished that Drew would turn back to the fortress and meet up with May. Rocketshippers waited in glee, anticipating TR's next appearance because they hadn't been separated and that led to a bigger chance. The rare amounts of cookieshippers clapped their hands in joy because Harley was coming and that meant he would probably get to May before Drew could, which saddened the contestshippers even more. Wolfy meanwhile, laughed evilly at the thoughts and drank more chocolate milk.
Speaking of evil...
...
"So...my beloved MAX2823..." the woman's voice came to the robot's metallic ears once more.
The 8-year-old machine turned to face the figure, still covered in the shadows of the dark room. "Yes, my creator?"
"Tell me...how is your equipment working? How much of it needs to get upgraded?" A couple hours ago, she had asked the robot to test out his skills to see if he could still perfect them even though he had lost his memory. After the reboot, she needed to make sure everything from his chainsaws to wheels were up and working correctly.
Max just shrugged. "Most of it is working fine for me," he admitted. "Although I can't smell anything very well...didn't you say you gave me a new nose or something?"
"Oh, yes...you are indeed correct," his master replied. "I have given you a new nose, but I'm pretty sure William has configured it to work just like your old one. What seems to be the problem with it? Can you not smell out of it at all? And what about the booger bombs, is that feature not working either?"
Max sniffed the air, then shook his head. "Nope. None of it's working." he confirmed.
"Very well." said his creator. "I will take it to be fixed straightaway." She grabbed a screwdriver and started twisting it into the nail that kept the robot's nose in place. "So, while I'm at it, is there anything else that needs fixing?"
"No...I don't think so."
Max's nose then plopped right off and into the safety (wait, isn't that an oxymoron?) of the woman's palm. "Thank you, Max, my dear." she told the robot with a smile. "This nose of yours seems like an easy fix, so it should take no time at all to get it back to normal. I'll be back here in about fifteen minutes, maybe a little longer. You stay here and be good for me, alright?"
Max nodded. "OK." he answered, as the shadowy woman went out the door and slammed it shut. Once it was closed, Max curiously walked up. He wondered if he could follow her to figure out more about who she was and maybe even...more of who he was. Unfortunately, the door had been locked as she exited, so the doorknob stuck when Max tried to open it. He sighed, walking back in defeat.
"Well, I gueth I'm here awl by mythelf." he mumbled quietly, finding it hard to speak correctly without a nose. He glanced around the room. It was hard to tell where he was or find any clues either – the room in which he stood was almost completely dark, quiet and empty.
Finding a place on the cold, hard ground to sit, Max rested his chin in his hand as his mind swept up in a fury of questions he could not answer. One question of course, stood out most of all, and it forced Max to think as hard as he felt he ever could. Even a robot as smart and intelligent as him (or so he heard) couldn't seem to figure out the one thing that had been plaguing him...the one thing that he had to know to make all the difference...the one thing that could possibly change his life forever...
Who was he?
...
You guys thought this story was done for but...oh no! It is back! It has surfaced from the rubble! How could I be so cruel as to not finish a story that I started, especially a story as intense and nail-biting as this one? I know this story might be scary to some of you (especially at the part where Harley and Drew were so poorly written)...but do not be afraid, my humble citizens. I'm still trying to figure out how I want to characterise these two in terms of humor. Yes...that's right...Drew isn't gone from the story forever. He'll most likely be returning...mostly because I like getting the contestshippers' hopes up, just like how I enjoyed making the pokeshippers suffer from that separation of Ash and Misty. Yeah, I know I'm sinister and cruel. But I can't help it. Anyway...stay tuned for the next chapter, it will hopefully come sooner than the ones before it. (BTW...any cookies besides the kind Harley makes will be accepted by Wolfy and used to help get this story going again, so keep that in mind!) :D
