(This hasn't been updated in forever... I'm aware. It's at its core an immature humor fic, so I had other things to work on. But it's summer over here in the U.S. of Ameritards, so I've got time on my hands! Time wasted! /groans at horrible joke/ Right. Hope you enjoy a bit of stupid humor!

I HAVE MY INTARWEBZ BACK, LOL. I AM A HAPPY KIDDO.

Things I do not own; Team Rocket, Fergalicious, My Fair Lady, the Marquis de Sade, which you may or may not get, or anything Kurt Vonnegut wrote, though I wish I was as good as him. And also, I don't own any of the guns or pie makers in this story. And I don't own Pokemon sure enough.)

"Can I have it?"

"...No."

"...How 'bout now?"

"...Fuck you."

The teen made a huffing noise, and pointed an assault rifle at Giovanni. "Now?" Giovanni stared down the barrel of the gun like the genius Mafia leader he was.

"...What part of 'no' are you not getting here? I'm not losing to some kid!" Ari leaned against the wall, and snickered.

"Right. Just like you didn't lose to some kid in Kanto, Johto, and the Sevii Islands, right?" Giovanni froze. Ari tapped her chin thoughtfully.

"Right. So! Hey, before I kill you or whatever, I have a question; where did you go after I kicked your arse in Kanto? Seriously. You just went 'ka-poof', and I was, like, pissed."

Giovanni fumbled for his gun. In the heat of the moment, Ari went from a semi to a pistol. Why? Emo icon weapon of choice. Not that she was emo.

Oh, no, she was goth. /The Pokemon who have yet to appear in this story hardly think there's a difference, but their trainer wholeheartedly disagrees. And they don't want to get shot./

"Russian Roulette!" Ari cheered. She spun the wheel, and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened.

Giovanni raised an eyebrow. "You're actually supposed to put in bullets, you know." She looked inside the barrel of the gun.

"Ooh, shit, you're right. Well, I guess I—"

And I think you can guess what happened next.

Bang.

Giovanni fainted.

Ari blinked, and stood up. She took off her glasses, and rubbed them. "Goddamn, I cracked a lens!" She took out a shabby orange and black notebook, and made a note. "Okay. That's twice I've died in this fic."

She looked at Giovanni, fainted on the floor. She shrugged. "Well, I'll just shove him in the closet for now."

So she did, and locked it and shut it besides. She sighed.

"I seriously hope he's not GLBT, or the irony might just overpower my childlike immature sense of humor." She was silent for a second.

"...Must resist urge to make dick joke. Seriously. Also, must see therapist about this immature humor thing. Also, do NOT make a 'the rapist' joke. However tempting it may be." She sighed, and tossed out a Nest Ball.

"Come on out, Frieda!" The Smeargle raised an eyebrow, observing her trainer. Ari grinned. "I need a complete Hideout makeover. You and Jackson on it, stat. And get Salvador and O'Keefe to get to work on our banners." She clapped her hands, and went from a pair of torn and paint-abused jeans to a form-fitting Armani suit, complete with pinstripes.

"Sweet. Mafia leader here I come!" She punched the air. Turning on her iPod, she decided to celebrate with a rousing rendition of...

"Fergalicious, definition, make the boys go crazy, they always come into me think they know me call me Stacy! I'm the F to the E to the R, G the I the E, and can't no otha lady put it down like me!"

Thankfully, her secret passion for this song would forever be kept secret.

Unless, of course, someone actually read this fic.

She stopped dancing in the hall suddenly, and made an annoyed face.

"I need to think up a good way to kill people." She thought. "I'm making my thinking face." She announced to no one in particular.

Then, in a flash, it came to her. "Grunts!" She roared. "GET ME A MEAT GRINDER, STAT!" She paused. "AND SOME DELICIOUS GRAVY FILLING!" She nodded. Work done.

"Now," she muttered, racing off eagerly, "to seduce Domino..."

And her Pokemon were left waiting.

"...So. She's in control of Team Rocket now." Seraphia stated, speaking the utter obvious. Everyone nodded.

Kilgore the Pikachu flipped a page in his book. (Ironically, or perhaps coincidentally, it was Slaughterhouse-Five.) He spoke, and immediately, everyone was quiet. "You know that Pikachu that that vampire demon-child Ketchum owns?" Everyone nodded.

Kilgore tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Well, we might as well go help out those Team Rocket people that are, you know, trying to get him." Watson the Shinx frowned.

"How?" Kendra, Ari's homicidal Blissey, raised an assault rifle in the air.

"We bring them the magic of guns."

Back with the scapegoats of Team Rocket, they were once again hungry, cold, and annoyed. They'd just been sent blasting off again, even though the trap had LITERALLY been foolproof. They tested it out on FIVE other Pikachu beforehand, but this one...

Wincing, Jessie dialed the Boss' number, expecting to be ripped into again.

"Mm, hang on one second—Domino, oi, get my shirt, I need to look professional. The one with Hello Kitty on it." Jessie blinked. Huh?

A girl no older than that hag Misty phased out on the screen. Her hair was mussed, and her eyes were glazed over a bit. She snorted, pushed up a pair of glasses, and squealed, "Ohmygod! It's you! Hi, I'm your new boss! Ooh, so, did you get Pikachu?" Jessie quickly adjusted to apparent recognition, and said dutifully, "No." The girl frowned.

"Oh well. I'm sending out my Pokemon to help you. Bring them all back here, m'kay? Oh, and for the record, you're, like, my hero. And your motto is still the one from Kanto, okay? None of this Sinnoh shit." The girl began to ramble in a mocking, high-pitched tone.

"Listen, is that a sound I hear? Yeah, I hear it, NOW SHUT THE FUCK UP!!" She screamed angrily.Jessie didn't really know what to say to that.

She listened politely as the girl ranted angrily, but then she finally said, "Right. Those are my orders. And don't kill him, I want to make him into a pie." The girl hung up, and Jessie was left standing there, looking dumbfounded.

"Jess?" James asked. "What's wrong?" Jessie continued to stare at the phone. Then she said quietly, "I think we have a fan club."

"Iz 'bout time, too." Meowth mumbled.

Ari was in a good mood for once in her life, childhood crush fulfilled, and to top it all off, My Fair Lady was on.

And when she's in a good mood, she's in a killing mood.

She then found her first victim. "So! You thought you could betray Team Rocket, huh?!" The potted plant gave no answer. Ari frowned. It'd be easier and funnier to interrogate him if the plant could talk, but...

"Shove him in the meat grinder." She did so, and giggled as the potted plant turned into a delicious pie filling.

"FUCK! ARI! THAT WAS MY LAWYER, YOU STUPID BITCH!" Erose roared. She groaned.

"Aw shit. Anyways, do you think he'll taste good with gravy?" In response, Erose unleashed a Frenzy Plant.

"I just got attacked by a tree. (1) Who in the hell comes up with these attacks, anyway?" Ari groaned. She checked her giant computer.

"Right. Jessie and James will be getting Pikachu soon, so I need to get my Clockwork-Orange-tastic Reeducation Center made. Let's go people, world domination doesn't dominate itself, you know!" She yelled.

Back with a very stupid trainer and his brainless Pikachu, things were going so well. They'd just helped another Generic Trainer and promised undying friendship, even though they would never meet again.

"Prepare for trouble!" Jessie said. "Make it double!"

"To protect the world from devastation!" "To unite all people within our nation—HOLY SHIT THAT BLISSEY HAS A GUN!"

James screamed in terror. The Pokemon present just stared at him impassively, utterly used to this. Kendra giggled. "It's yours, Sweet Baby James!" (BWAHAHAHA STUPIDEST EPISODE TITLE EVER. :The Author:) And with that, she tossed him the machine gun.

"Quick poll; who thinks this is a terrible idea?" Bloom asked. Every one of the fifteen Pokemon raised their hands—except for Kendra, since she was now cackling madly.

James stared at the gun in his hands, and slowly, he pointed it at Ash. "Why I didn't think of this years ago, I cannot fathom." And with that, James forced Ash into the balloon.

"...Well, dis is weyrd. I mean, me-ow." Meowth grumbled, sharpening his claws as he tied Ash up.

Since they no longer had to obey the laws of the writers of Pokemon, Jessie and James were passionately making out, since this had been going on for ten years.

I mean, ten years of forced chastity would drive anyone crazy.

"So. We're now making our enemies into pies." Butch said, staring disinterestedly at the leader of Team Rocket. Ari nodded. Stroking Mimi softly, and scratching the Skitty's ears, she said,

"'Bout sums it up. It hides the evidence. And poetic irony! We'll send pies to the victim's families and stuff! ...And, well, I'm good at cooking."

"Yeah, her stuff is Fergalicious." Erose interrupted. Ari pinched the bridge of her nose.

Thankfully, Team Rocket was back. And they were very, very, happy.

"Look, I'll forgo my humiliation, and ask if you got Pikachu." For the first time in their life, Team Rocket could honestly say that yes, they got Pikachu.

Ari cackled madly, and thunder and lightning flashed somewhere in the blackness of Plotlessness. "Sweet!" She looked at Ash. "Well? Any last words?" He stammered quickly, fumbling for his nonexistent Pokeballs, since he'd just ditched all his Pokemon AGAIN.

"I thought Team Rocket were pushovers!" He cried. Ari shrugged.

"That was before I got to be in charge. Now we have guns." She snapped her fingers.

"Shove the boy in the meat grinder, and take the Pikachu to my COTREC! (Clockwork Orange-tastic Re-edumakashun, /'cause our childrens do learn, Center. Acronyms rule!)" She cheered, and as she left, she waggled her fingers.

"Don't worry, I'll take good care of Muk and Charizard!" She cheered.

As the sounds of a live human being ground into meaty filling danced around her, she swore. "God, what do I do now?" She took out her notebook again, checking over past plot points.

"Let's see. I already tried the World Domination thing. Did not work. We did the Fat Camp thing; also, not really working. So..." An idea came to her.

"I'll give the grunts names!"

Five minutes later...

"Okay, you're Mykynzy, you're Irving, you're Jim, and you're Matthias de Sade the fifteenth, robber of women and raper of men." The four grunts she'd summoned to her quarters stared at her incredulously. She shrugged.

"Would you rather be something else?" They shook their heads, too terrified to speak. She nodded, and lit a cigarette. "Right, off with you then. We've got a lot of grunts to name." Matthias de Sade was the first to haul ass. Mykynzy, Irving, and Jim ran a minute after, still trying to process what the hell was up with this fat chick.

Ari shrugged, and snuffled. Blasted allergies getting to her again. "Well. That's done. Now... maybe I could..." She swore, and sucked in a breath.

"You know what? Well... I'm bored. Since I'm the leader of Team Rocket, now what..."

Just then, a grunt burst in. "Miss! There's a flyer for you here!" She shrugged, and read it.

"CALLING ALL EVIL VILLAINS! DO YOU WANT TO RULE THE POKEMON WORLD!? THEN PARTICIPATE IN OUR TOURNAMENT OF SUPER EVILNESS! WINNER GETS CONTROL OF ALL THE TEAMS!" And in fine print, "Do it or we'll kill your friends and family!" Ari punched the air.

"Hot damn! Saddle up, my bitches, we're going to..." She checked the flyer. "The Indigo League!" She went off to prepare. It didn't sound strange to her at all that an evil organization tournament would be held in a government building because she is a hippie and thinks the government IS an evil organization.

Back with the rest of Team Rocket...

"Jeez, it's nice that we've got some new blood running things, but our grunts keep falling in the meat grinder." Cassidy said, watching in amusement as said grunts got churned into chunky chunks. Houndour went over to sniff it, and backed away after an eyeball continued to blink at him.

And the Pokemon that had been pretty much ignored in this story, well, what were they doing?

"I POKE BODIES WITH STICKS!" Mimi screamed, chasing her tail in a frenzy, while indeed poking Giovanni with a stick. But he wasn't dead, just in a state of shock. I mean, some weird kid with funny looking glasses just came in, shot herself in the face and lived, took over his entire organization, caught the Pikachu he'd deemed un-catchable, and now her Skitty was poking him with a stick.

He sat in the closet, and quietly waited for the world to end.

Though trust me, when it did, it would be Kiddo's idea of the world ending. Not pretty.

"Evil Team Tournament... okay! Guys! It's time for more POINTLESS FILLER!" She screamed, assembling the Pokemon.

Silence.

Kilgore flipped a page in his book; this one was Breakfast of Champions. Bulba the Ivysaur stared up at her. She swore.

"Either get moving or I shove you all in the meat grinder."

Everyone immediately got into the giant bus Ari had brought in for these purposes.

/Somewhere very far away, say, LaRousse City.../

Drew opened his door to go out for another wonderful day of bitching and moaning at May and abusing beautiful, wonderful, tres sexy Absol, when he noticed a box sitting on his steps.

Flicking his oh-so-wonderful Hair Curl, he knelt down to examine it. He opened it, and inside was a pie that would've been amazingly tasty looking, but for the fact that a bloodstained hat belonging to Ash Ketchum was perched on top. He picked up the note, and read,

"U R NEXT FOOL. BEWARE MY PIE MAKER." He raised an eyebrow, and read the fine print. "P.S. Stay away from May. She has Brendan. Stalker."

He shook his head, and went inside. Screw this, he was late for a date with May's broken self-esteem—I mean, Contest.

So it begins. The Evil Tournament.

"MOVE YER BLOOMIN' ARSE, HIROMI! YOU DON'T NEED FIVE WEEKS WORTH OF LUGGAGE!"

...If we got there on time.

(1): SERIOUSLY. The Frenzy Plant attack description says your Pokemon attacks with a TREE. Wha... I mean, dude... where does the tree come from!? If it was only Torterra, I might get it, but... WTF...

...Though, there's that whole, "I can use DIVE and hide UNDERWATER even though there is no freaking WATER and we are in the goddamn SAHARA FUCKING DESERT. Seriously. Some little moron is going to jump down from a twenty-story high building because the fucker thought 'He could use Dive!"

...Not that I'd care, I hate kids, but I'd appreciate it if Nintendo wasn't sued and had to stop making Pokemon games.)