Second Chapter is here! I hope this one is better.

The Sport

Bisharp was extremely puzzled. He was playing a sandbox game on his computer when it had completely crashed. Their games never lagged, or crashed for that matter. Yet here he faced his computer desktop, completely lifeless except for the fact that it was active moments ago.

"Rotom!" He yelled. "I think my computer has a Porygon!" Porygons were a part of the gamer lingo, also known as glitches. There were three levels of Porygons: a normal Porygon, Porygon2, and PorygonZ, with their levels of endangering a game increasing with each "evolution".

Rotom came into the room, this time in his regular form.

"Ah, don't be screw with me. I'm sure that we're perfectly fine…" Rotom's voice trailed off as soon as he had noticed the blank desktop screen. He found it weird that Bisharp had a perfectly good computer and was not playing on it. "Okay, you're just probably messing with me, man. I bet your computer's fine." Rotom took over, hovering the mouse over the game icon and click it. A dark window popped up, and then quickly disappeared. "Huh. That's weird," Rotom said, frowning.

"Not screwing with you now, right?" Bisharp stared at him, an expression that clearly stated: "I told you so."

"Oh well. I got to get back to work," stated Rotom, as if nothing had happened.

"What? Aren't you going to fix it?" Bisharp demanded. He swiveled in his chair to face him, but his chair suddenly caught, and his leg was stuck painfully in between a nearby table and the chair's soft edge. He winced.

"Nope, because you had to post that one little video," replied Rotom, happily content with leaving Bisharp on his own.

"It was just a video! Nothing happened, except, well you…" Bisharp remembered, cleared his throat, trying to push his laughter down. It wasn't working.

"Yeah, yeah, I flopped around in the rain like a fish on land. As I remember, it got a hundred thousand, seven hundred- something views," Rotom finished, not happy.

Bisharp took out his phone, closed some highly questionable websites, then tapped on bookmarks and selected the infamous Gootube video. Bisharp scrolled down the page. "As of now, it has a hundred and one thousand, nine hundred and four views. Wow. It got about a thousand views in one day. Neat." He then proceeded to watch the video again. "Hah! You- you tried to get up, and then you slipped and fell on your head!" Bisharp started to chuckle.

Rotom groaned. He then decided to return to his business, which was washing his "friend's" laundry.

"Wait! Come back! I need help with this chair! It won't budge!" Bisharp struggled, desperately trying to free himself.

"Use your head," grumbled Rotom from the other room.

Bisharp tugged at his leg to move, but it was of no use. Finally, he had pulled so hard that he slipped and fell on his back, his leg coming free in the process. He took a deep breath. Well, now that he could move freely again, he...

…still couldn't move. This time, the back of the double edge ax on his head had attached itself to the wooden floor, and would have stopped any attempt for Bisharp to get free. Bisharp reminded himself to scold Tangrowth later for his proposal of getting wooden floors. Apparently he forgot that a guy completely covered in knives would vacate a part of the house.

Rotom, hearing the commotion, peer in. "You know, that's not what I meant by using your head…"

Bisharp flailed, scowling. "Shut up." He hoped that Rotom would get weird looks from everyone in public.

[-] [-] [-]

Rotom had suggested to Bisharp that he needed to workout. Bisharp had attempted to engage in a fight, but injured himself trying to harm a ghost. So he decided to motivate himself into building himself up, so that he could eventually Night Slash the guy enough to knock him out.

He drove to the nearby community center, where he wanted to see which sport was ideal for him. Running? No, since it had too much heat on summer days. Boxing? One hit from a pro, and his unconscious body would become the next infamous Gootube video. And he never wanted to give Rotom that satisfaction, so that was out.

What about basketball? Ideal, perfect, but (worst case scenario) he would probably pop the ball if he tried to defend himself, or at least make it so that it can't ever be played with again. Either way, the referee would never allow blades in a sport that needed contact to play. The same thing for soccer, and also because his strength was in his arms, not legs.

He then thought about the next sport, tennis. The fuzz on the ball protected it, so it probably wouldn't pop, and if it did, there were plenty of tennis balls left. It was a sport that didn't need contact, and a sport that let him use his arm strength. It was ideal and perfect.

So he headed over to the tennis court, and borrowed a few of the community center's tennis balls and a racket. As he went to the sidelines to watch who was playing who, he became happy that he had chosen tennis as his sport.

Because one of the really good players was a really, really hot girl.

[-] [-] [-]

Unbeknownst to Bisharp, Tangrowth was a seasoned tennis player. Seeing how he had one heck of a losing streak at video games, he wanted to test that theory out at sports. Also, he wanted to lose some of the extra weight he had gained. He kept it secret, since he was afraid that he'd never hear the end of it if they heard about his hobby.

He usually went to the community center's tennis court to practice, going at 12:00, saying that he was going to "visit some college friends". In actuality, that wasn't entirely false, since some of the people he played with were actually his old college mates.

Imagine his surprise when he came upon Bisharp gawking at someone, tennis balls in one hand and racket in the other. Tangrowth thought he was hallucinating, so he rubbed his eyes. No, Bisharp was still there. This can't be real, he thought. So he slapped himself. Over and over. No, Bisharp was still there. He kept slapping himself.

Bisharp, on the other hand, came to and saw Tangrowth, in full tennis attire, slapping himself over and over. Is-is this real? He thought. Nah, it can't be! So he punched himself in the face to make sure he wasn't imagining things. Tangrowth was still there, in a repetitive slapping motion. He got confused, and kept trying to punch himself.

Everyone normal tried to avoid the two, thinking that they were just on drugs.

[-] [-] [-]

Finally, when they became too tired to hurt themselves anymore, a friendly Audino gave them bottles of ice tea. The two had gulped their reward down greedily, and then just sat on the ground, silent.

Then Bisharp broke the tension. "So…" His mouth formed an O for three long seconds. "You, uh… you go here?"

Tangrowth thought about his answer, and then replied: "Yes. I've been going here for some time now. You know, to get rid of some weight."

"Ah." Bisharp then remembered that Tangrowth had looked more fit than usual the last couple of months. "I thought you were visiting some college friends." He frowned.

"Actually, I wasn't lying. Some old college friends asked me to come here to play. And because I'm more motivated than you, I actually thought that I need the work. See, my college buddies are over there, on the third court," he replied. He waved to them. They waved back.

"Wait. So does that mean you know her?" Bisharp asked him, suddenly interested in his social life, for seemingly no particular reason at all.

"Uh…there are three girls in our little group. You're going to have to be a little bit more specific," Tangrowth answered, a bit suspicious as to why… ah, never mind. Who knew what was happening in Bisharp's head?

Bisharp pointed. "That girl, right there." Tangrowth followed Bisharp's aim and saw who he was pointing at. "Oh…" Tangrowth then understood. He chuckled. Oh, he had never known that Bisharp was so predictable! "You mean Gardevoir. She's the-"

Bisharp shook his head rapidly. "No, you idiot, not her! Her!" He exclaimed. He pointed again.

Tangrowth was shocked. Any normal person would be attracted to Gardevoir, and he thought that Bisharp would not be an exception. Apparently, he was wrong. He didn't even bother following Bisharp's line of sight. He was too busy shaking his head in disbelief. No way, he thought. No way.

Bisharp stood up. "You know what? Forget it. I'll learn her name myself. I came here to practice, not fool around." He straightened himself, and then picked up his racket and tennis balls. "Now, let's get to business."

"Shut up. You've been watching too many action movies on NetFlicks to know what you're talking about. And by "learning her name", I think you mean "stalk her". Please don't. I don't like friends creeping on other friends. That occurs enough from where I live," Tangrowth crossed his arms.

Bisharp could not be talked out of it. "Don't worry. I won't be noticed. I'm a Dark type. A creature…" he paused for dramatic effect "…of the night."

Fittingly for a stalker, Tangrowth thought, but he kept that to himself.

[-] [-] [-]

Bisharp then learned something so important that would change his life for years, maybe decades, and possibly centuries.

He was terrible at tennis. Absolutely terrible. No. To say that Bisharp was terrible was as if you said that a Snorlax could have enough motivation to go on a diet.

The exercise that Tangrowth had him do was bounce a tennis ball off a nearby brick wall at least three times, every time above the white line. Before he knew it, Bisharp was sweating, forming a pool of smelly body liquid at the base of his feet. He had attempted to hit it over and over again, but to no avail. Whenever he would hit a ball, he would celebrate for little while, but he would stop abruptly when he would miss the ball, when his grip would slip, or when he would stop to breathe.

But to motivate himself, he would convince himself that she was watching him, and that he would try to convince her that he wasn't the helpless klutz the first impressions had brought.

Finally, the hard work paid off. "1…" The ball bounced off the wall, falling short a couple of feet away from Bisharp. He rushed forward, hitting the ball underhand with the racket. It made it, bouncing against the wall over the line a very high distance. Anymore and the ball would travel over the wall and be lost forever. He breathed in relief. "2…" One more hit! He then hit the ball after it bounced on the cement, and it was barely over the white line, but he still made it. "3!" He raised his hands to the sky, knelt down, and thanked Arceus for the first time in his life.

[-] [-] [-]

Tangrowth finished his match, coming over to the net to shake the opponent's hands. Despite being distracted when he looked over at Bisharp to check out how he was doing, he and his teammate still won. "Good game. Good game," he said to each player, shook their hands, and then walked over to Bisharp to see how he was doing.

Well, at least he had planned to, when his teammate, Meloetta, interrupted his train of thought. "Is that your friend?" She asked, pointing to a grateful and kneeling Bisharp, who was currently staring at the clouds. He took out his phone snapped a photo. "He might be. Why?" He asked.

"He, uh…he was staring at me earlier. He comes onto me as a bit weird. Can you tell him to stop gawking at me later, since he does that a lot? Thanks!" Meloetta cheerfully requested, and then ran into the shade to fetch her water bottle. She didn't notice Tangrowth's surprised expression, and the fact that he had frozen like a Zen Mode Darmanitan.

No way, he thought, with his phone still aimed at Bisharp, although he was no longer taking pictures.

No frickin' way.

l - l - l - l

To explain, Gootube is the Youtube equivalent, and Netflicks is the NetFlix equivalent.

Well, now we join Bisharp for this epic tale of trying to win Meloetta over. Good Luck, Bisharp!