Chapter 3: The Fattest Chase! Pokémon FTW!
Chasing after Cartman was fast becoming as irritating as it was bewildering. They could clearly see him making his way across the train tracks, but there should have been no plausible reason as to how he stayed ahead of them. Cartman was still as fat as the sun was bright. Kyle had run track for a year, Kenny could outrun the cops any night, Butters was on a treadmill six times a week, and Stan could still smoke any of them in a race without breaking a sweat. There was no way in Ginger HELL that a fatass like Cartman could evade them this long! No possible explanation, except for
"Oh, goddamnit! The son of a bitch is using a Pokémon!" Kyle raged, searching through his dark green pants' pockets for the right Pokéball.
"Is this Bronzong's ball?" Kyle asked Kenny, who shrugged as best he could while running over the tracks.
"Dude, the fuck if I know. They all look the same to me." Kenny said, going through his own pockets for his balls. Heh heh, Kenny chuckled under his breath. Balls…
Kyle peered at the Pokéball for a second. He couldn't really be sure what Pokémon was inside or if there even was one in the orb to begin with.
"Come on out!" Kyle said, throwing caution to the wind while tossing the sphere out in front of himself.
In a burst of light, a large figure broke free of the Pokéball, which flew back to Kyle's awaiting hand where he pocketed it away. The large figure was somewhat robotic in nature, with a turquoise, disc-shaped body and four legs. The main body served as both head and body, and the creature's overall construction was like that of a mechanized arachnid. A large, metallic cross is situated in the center of its face. On either side of the cross, a red eye peered out from a space in its metallic armor. Its four legs joined to the main body by ball-and-socket joints while the upper portion of the legs were relatively thin. They were considerably thicker below the knee, with each leg having three short claws on the end and a flat, blunt protrusion extending over the knee.
"MEH-TA!" roared the Iron Leg Pokémon upon its release.
"Dammit, Kyle. Why do all your Pokémon have to be so loud? Its like, three in the afternoon for fuck's sake." Stan looked over his shoulder as he ran, still not too preoccupied to speak on the retardation of Kyle's trope of pocket monsters.
"I don't know. Maybe it's a Steel-type thing, or a Psychic-type thing. Christ, Stan, we're not having this conversation right now." Kyle stopped running and turned to Metagross. "Metagross, use Magnet Rise and follow the fatass."
"Meh-Ta!" the giant metal spider Pokémon was a bit quieter in obeying Kyle's command. Its legs rose up from the ground. They then proceeded to tuck in under Metagross's main body like a sort of robotic transformation as the Pokémon hovered a few feet above the ground. Kyle quickly jumped atop the behemoth, giving Butters a helping hand when the blond made to get on too.
"What about us?" Kenny asked when Kyle and Butters went flying past him and Stan.
"Sorry, no assholes allowed aboard the Broflovski Express!" Kyle yelled back, determined to be the one to catch Cartman first in order to be the one to punish the stain on society.
"Two can play that shit…" Stan muttered, tapping the button on the Pokéball he got out, "Tropius, lets go! Use Fly!"
Throwing the ball into the open snowy air, it opened so a ray of white light could escape. Bursting forth from that light was an enormous sauropod-like Pokémon with a large brown body wrapped in green leaves on its chest and head. Strong and broad green leaves stuck out from its back, and with one flap of the four leaves, the Fruit Pokémon remained airborne despite being very big and bulky. Kenny watched at it swooped down with surprising maneuverability and scooped them up to drop on its back. Stan and he clung quickly to the Pokémon's long neck while it took off after the obvious chase scene.
"Holy shitballs, dude! This thing is a Pokémon?"
"Yeah, its Tropius, the Fruit Pokémon." Stan said, stroking the creature's neck with affection. Then he reached forward and snapped off one of the fruits that grew around the monster's neck. "Fruit?"
"Hell yeah!" Kenny accepted the offered food without hesitation, peeling it like his life depended on it. He didn't care if it was safe to eat or not, he hadn't eaten anything all morning or back when they were at Kyle's house. He immediately stuffed his face, and the taste caught him guard. "Ohh, sweet Jesus! It looks like a banana, but it tastes like a fucking juicy pineapple! Stan, let me marry your Pokémon."
Stan's only reply was to laugh before commanding Tropius to look for Cartman by finding the fattest thing attempting to run. It was an easy spot for Tropius, who gave a cry of affirmation as it targeted the hefty boy not too far under them. With the giant prehistoric Pokémon locked on target, it made Tropius began descent with the intent of landing in the human's path.
"Oh geez, that thing's gonna eat us!" Butters screamed, holding onto Kyle harder while Kyle gripped the protruding metal cross that stuck out over what could be considered Metagross' forehead.
Kyle glanced back and cursed, "The fuck is that thing? Oh wait, that's the one from the third generation games. Damn, forgot its name because I never used it or cared to catch it. But of course Stan would go ahead and catch it…"
"So its Stan's Pokémon?" Butters asked, "And it won't eat us, right? 'Cause, well… it looks an awful lot like a dinosaur."
Kyle ignored Butters in favor of having Metagross slow down on the turn it was making toward the right. He found it much easier controlling the metal Pokémon, but he suspected it was reading his thoughts and responding accordingly, what with it being Psychic and all.
"We're gaining on him now!" Kenny shouted with glee, throwing a fruit at Cartman's back from where he and Stan were up above. Cartman seemed to stumble, but made a quick recovery while being sure not to drop a sing Pokéball, especially when he slipped through a open in the nearby shabby wooden fence. "Ha! We got fatass running into junkyards! Now he's cornered!"
"Dude…" Stan pinched the bridge of his nose while Kenny gave him a puzzled look.
"What?" Kenny uttered, then looked back down to see why Stan was so exasperated with him. Broken down truck sitting on a jack. A busted refrigerator sitting out front. Other random junk littering the front and backyard. Color fading off the little house. Detached garage.
… wait a second…
"Oh fuck, that's my house!" Kenny hid his shame by pulling up the hood of his orange parka and zipping it closed around his face, leaving only his baby blue eyes for the world to see.
"Oh goddamnit, Kenny. Don't start that shit now." Stan said, seeing and hearing his friend as the dirty blond teen's muffled words were lost to the wind.
"Mhmm mphm hm hmph mhm," Kenny muffled, which pissed Stan off.
"You're being stupid. Who cares if you confused your house with a junkyard. And besides, so long as you don't say anything, Cartman will never know."
"Mphm mhm. Mhphm mhmn nhpnh mhh."
"Then make your parents clean up! Jesus Christ, Kenny, don't just let them loaf around on their lazy crack-smoking asses."
"Mhhm nphm hm," Kenny hung his head in shame, muffled words just barely heard as they flew.
"I swear to God, I will cut the hood off that jacket if you don't at least get it from over your mouth!" Stan was not playing around anymore. Cartman was trying to find a way out of the yard, and couldn't burst through the house on account of Mr. McCormick now owning a shotgun of his very own after winning a beer drinking contest down at the local bar.
"Dude, don't joke about that shit. My face has frozen before!" Kenny had moved the hood to below his chin. "And we all know… Winter is coming."
"Don't start with that shit either, Kenny. I mean it!" Stan sighed out, feeling a headache coming on. "Tropius, take us down."
"Tro!" the long necked Pokémon dropped even lower toward the snowy fields behind the tattered home. When it was a little more than several feet from touching the cold white substance, Tropius used its long neck to reach back and grab its riders by the scruff of their jackets. It sat them in the snow, where Stan returned it to its Pokéball and out of the cold.
"Okay, my turn!" Kenny chirped happily, making a show of taking the Pokéball from his parka's pouch and throwing it out, "Get out here!"
Out from the ball came the Ghost-type Pokémon Gengar. Stan easily recognized it. Gengar appeared just as it did in the cartoons and games. It was dark purple, with two stout legs under its roundish body. Red eyes glowed brightly in the darkness of the overcast weather, and its wide mouth signature sinister grin was as white as the snow that fell. Multiple spikes cover its back, and its large pointed ears stuck out from its main body. Its arms and legs were short with three digits on both its hands and feet. Laughing its name cruelly, Gengar gave a wag of its stubby tail.
"Gen-Gar!" the Shadow Pokémon snickered while looking around shiftily. Almost like a madman who had committed the perfect murder.
"Gengar," Kenny called for his Pokémon's attention. Gengar was quite the silly ghost as it looked everywhere but at Kenny until the blond was bristling in anger. "Here, jackass! Pay attention!"
"Gengar, gen," Gengar appeared shocked that Kenny had suddenly snapped at it for being playful.
"I have a job for you," with this, Kenny grinned, and Stan could now see why the blond had Gengar as a Pokémon. The two were peas in a pod. "And its gonna be fun."
"Garrr," the purple ghost looked intrigued by what Kenny had to say, now giving the poor boy its undivided interest.
"See fatass in there?" Kenny hitched a thumb over his shoulder, to which Gengar stretched its stout body and looked over the fence to where Cartman was trying to hide the Pokéballs. After returning to its normal state of height, Gengar gave a nod of confirmation. "I want you to make him shit himself. Gengar, go greet our new neighbor. Use the move Scary Face."
As Kyle and Butters arrived atop Metagross, Gengar's red eyes lit up like Christmas day had come. "GAR! GENGAR!" Gengar was so excited that it shot over the fence in record time. A moment later, Cartman's girly screams filled the air while Stan and Kenny rushed into the yard. Apparently Kyle didn't bother with subtly as he had Metagross smash through the fence mere seconds afterward.
Gengar's face was even darker than before. Its body had become a toxic-looking mist while its red eyes glowed even brighter in its success at scaring Cartman. Stan would admit that if Kenny ever played that same trick on him, he'd beat the shit out of Kenny, good friends or not.
"Metagross, use Psychic and take away all the Pokéballs!' Kyle was quick to end the situation. His iron arachnid's eyes glowed light blue in direct contrast to the dull red they actually were. The Pokéballs in Cartman's clutches began to glow the same color and before Cartman could stop pissing himself over the demon come to take his soul that was Gengar, the balls were maneuvered through the air via telekinesis and dropped into Butters' arms.
"Gotta 'em all, Kyle! Gee, this sure is a lot." Butters said, slipping off Metagross after Kyle.
With Butters now in possession of his loot, Cartman was no longer terrified of the fucking ghost. He narrowed his eyes and stopped quivering in fear.
"KAHL! Give me back the goddamn Pokémon, you filthy Jew-thief! Frenchy" Cartman roared with anger, turning on his skunk creature.
"Oh shut up," Kyle spat, shaking his head while adjusting his coat, "Face it, its over Cartman. Whatever plan you had was stupid from the beginning."
Even Cartman could see that four against one were very bad odds to gamble against. He looked around, desperate for some means of escape, but this time he came up short. He had six Pokémon in total, but was sure they'd all lose considering how well his friends handled their own pocket monsters in pursuit of him.
"You guys, listen! We could be the very best! Like- Like no one ever was!" Cartman tried quickly, hoping to appeal to their egos and sense of pride, "These Pokémon these Pokémon, guys! To train them-"
"Cartman, don't go throwing Pokémon theme songs at us right now." Stan stepped forward while Kyle recalled Metagross to its Pokéball.
"But I have this!" Cartman, now with empty hands, dug into his jacket pocket and produced a small red and black flash-drive.
"And what exactly is that supposed to do for us?" Kenny asked, tossing Gengar's pokéball up and down in his hand. Gengar stood in front of Cartman, making stupid faces at the skunk Pokémon. Skuntank, however, was snubbing the Ghost-type by sticking its nose in the air and ignoring Gengar's actions.
Stan looked down at the skunk creature. Skuntank was a medium sized mammalian Pokémon with dark purple fur except for the white stripe running down it back. To Stan it looked more like a cat than any skunk he'd ever seen, what with its cat-like fangs and snobbish attitude. Its cheeks were a tan coloration. The whiskers present on its pre-evolution were gone, replaced instead by furry purple tufts on the sides of Skuntank's face. Skuntank's legs were also tan, and the tan coloration of its underside had a spiky pattern that Stan could just make out from where the Pokémon was standing in the tall snowfall. The skunk Pokémon's most notable and obvious feature, however, was that it had its tail over its back, atop its head, and over its face like some sort of weird hairdo.
"Because it could work, Kyle! It could work!" Stan snapped out of inspecting Cartman's Pokémon to tune back into the conversation.
"What could work?" Stan asked, blinking in confusion.
"Cartman, along with taking the Pokémon from the lab, also stole the flash drive Mephesto had of collective data on all the Pokémon in his game." Kyle growled, now standing beside him and Kenny while Butters was behind them slightly.
"So? What, is that like three hundred? Four hundred?" Stan asked, but before Kyle could speak, Cartman scoffed.
"I'm not like you fags. When I play, I play to win. Face it, I'm just really awesome at Pokémon." Cartman was rather smug to say that they had originally been catching after him to kick his ass.
"No you're not." Kyle growled, "Using the fucking ActionReplay does NOT make you good at Pokémon. It makes you a cheater and a loser."
"How many does he have?" Stan asked, not seeing what the big deal was or why Kyle was so angry.
"Fatass here has all seven hundred and nineteen Pokémon," Kenny was mad too, but Stan was honestly impressed that Cartman could achieve such a feat even while cheating.
"Yeah, but he's only caught forty-seven actual Pokémon in game!" Kyle made known, to which Cartman shouted indignantly about.
"If I'm a loser, then how come I'm the only one with a complete Pokédex, huh Kyle?" Cartman sung with all the arrogance he could.
"BECAUSE YOU'RE A FUCKING CHEATER!" Kyle yelled back, but then rubbed his temples.
"Look, Kyle, cheater or not, I have seen all the Pokémon." Cartman stated, to which none of them could deny, "Mephesto used my game to make his machine work. Imagine it, guys. Us as the world's first REAL Pokémon trainers with the world's first REAL Pokédexes! We'd be just like Red and all those less important assholes from the original game!"
"Except better because we're picking up bitches!" Kenny thrust a fist in the air, no longer concerned with beating up Cartman when he could be getting laid.
"What do you say, Stan?" Cartman knew that if Stan agreed with his plan, the other idiots were easy pickings. "You could be the most powerful of my Elite."
"YOUR Elite?!" Kyle roared. Cartman turned to him, and saw that the others were also disgusted by the idea of being apart of a team championed by him. "If any of us would be the leader, it'd be Stan. You're last on that rung, Cartman."
"No, fuck you, Kyle! I'm the Champion! Stan is too much of a pussy to be Champion." Cartman made quick to look at Stan, who appeared mildly shocked and confused, "No offense, Stan."
"Uhh, none taken…" Stan would be more offended if Cartman weren't such an asshole all the time.
"I'm the one that got Pokémon created in the first place. I deserve to be Champion." Cartman argued, but before Stan could open his mouth, Kyle was arguing back on his behalf.
"Yeah, but Stan could wipe the floor with you. Hell, we all could, even Butters!" Kyle said, patting Butters' shoulder.
"Goddamnit, I am not a worst Pokémon trainer than BUTTERS!" Cartman raged, but no one was paying him any attention.
"So its settled, Stan is Champion and the rest of us are the Elite Four." Kyle and the others nodded to Kenny's words while Cartman was still fuming over having his position occupied by a hippie-loving pussy like Stan. "And if we want any more Pokémon, we need to get back on Mephesto's good side."
"He wants money, but shucks, we don't have any." Butters spoke with dejection, his head hanging as he felt sad. All those poor Pokémon still trapped up there either in the machine or with only Mephesto for company.
"Token!" Stan exclaimed as the light bulb went off in his head, "Guys, Token could pay up! He's loaded and loves Pokémon more than anything! He'll front us the cash!"
"Yeah," Kenny agreed, nodding his head, "Plus it'll be, like, what? A week's allowance to him? He won't care so long as we cut him in on the deal and get him a few Pokémon of his own.
"I guess that could work… if only so we can stop Mephesto from abusing the machine." Kyle agreed, if only reluctantly, "It'd be even better if we could get the machine away from Mephesto. Token could probably buy the machine, too."
"Screw the machine and paying Mephesto!" the others once again were forced to remember that Cartman was amongst them, "I'm the fucking Champion!"
"Stan was better than all of us, even in Chinpokomon back when that off-brand Nintendo company was trying to destroy the American government." Kyle spat, facing Cartman as the two glared each other down.
"Oh, you're talking about the Nin_10_Dude company? I still have a bunch of games from them." Kenny announced, but then stroked his chin, "Didn't they end up being sued or something for copyright?"
"God-Dammit, Kenny, you black asshole, nobody cares about fucking Nin_10_Dude or their shitty games!" Cartman was absolutely livid and if Kenny's parents weren't probably stoned outta their minds, they'd have come snooping around for the cause of all the noise.
"I created Pokémon! It was me that got it brought to life! I made Mephesto make the Pokéballs! I'M THE FUCKING CHAMPION!" Cartman finished his rant by swiping his arm across the air with enough force to disrupt the snow falling in front of them all. For a few seconds, it was like the world stood still.
"You'd be a Champion alone," Kyle said flatly, leveling Eric Cartman with his most deadpan expression.
"He's right though," Stan spoke up, smiling a little while stepping forward, "Cartman really did get all that stuff done. But, face it, no one wants to follow Cartman after all the shit he's done over the years."
"Aye!" Cartman objected to the clear act on his character.
"I'm Champion, there's no getting around it." Stan shrugged his shoulders casually as he walked into the middle of the group. "So there's really only one way to settle this once and for all."
"Gen-Gar?" Gengar looked confused, but Kenny quickly returned it to its Pokéball so it could stop interrupting the dramatic moment.
"What's that, Stan?" Butters questioned in utter bewilderment.
"Well, the way they did things in Pokémon Diamond and Pearl was that the Elite Four could challenge the Champion any time they wanted, right?" here Stan cut his gaze to Cartman, who flinched back minutely at the soft yet steely look from the taller boy. Stan's eyes seemed to take on an eerie amount of coolness, even for his being a tripped out hippie asshole. "Then there's your chance, Cartman. Me versus you, one battle. I beat you, you never challenge me being the Champion ever again. You beat me, you're the leader until someone else beats you."
Cartman was dumbstruck for a few moments, just like the others were in the wake of how Stan actually giving Cartman a shot at the top.
"Dude…!" Kyle gasped, not sure what the fuck was wrong with Stan. Sure Cartman would bitch about not being the Champion for a few days, but they all knew he'd get over it just as fast. Here Stan was issuing the challenge for not just fatass, but everyone to fight him for his title.
"Well gosh, you fellas can't battle it out right here and now," Butters interjected, "Your Pokémon are all too new. And its really cold out here for the little guys! Shucks, I bet after a few days of hard work and exercise, they'll be in tip-top shape for fighting. And the weather'll probably warm up a bit, too."
"Butters is right about that. You'll need a week to get your Pokémon ready. In the meantime, we can try convincing Token to help us dealing with Mephesto." Kyle nodded in affirmation to his own thoughts.
"Then its settled," Kenny grinned while the wind picked up to shake the loose fence boards around his backyard and billow around them, "We'll convince Token to help us, we deal with Mephesto, and then Hippie-bitch and Fatass will have their epic battle. Perfect!"
"Agreed," Stan nodded, smirking at Cartman, "Don't be a little bitch of a sore loser when I curb stomp you, fatass."
"Just prepare to be my bitch, you Liberal ass-sucker," Cartman and Stan locked eyes, determined to defeat the other.
Kyle leaned forward to whisper to Stan, who never broke eye contact with Cartman, "Dude, why the fuck are you doing this? Cartman's an asswipe, even if he won no one would follow him and we'd all just make you the leader again anyway. He'd bitch, he'd moan, and he'd get the fuck over it."
"This is revenge for when he sued me and got half my stuff back in fourth grade," Stan muttered back to Kyle.
"Oh! Kick ass, dude!" Kyle was honestly impressed with the grudge Stan had kept secret over the past few years. After all that sexual harassment lawsuit stuff, Kyle had simply assumed Stan had moved past it all like the rest of them. Apparently Stan had some things buried deeper than Kyle and the others thought. To be honest, it made Kyle think better of his super best friend. It made Stan way less of a pussy in Kyle's eyes.
While Kyle was thinking of the bad boy buried deep within Stan's go-with-the-flow bullshit, Cartman and Stan were still staring one another down.
There would only be one Champion, and neither would give an inch. Both wanted too much to see the other as their bitch.