Skitty

Old Man Thomas was a grouch. People steered clear of him, as far away as they could get. If a person got unlucky enough to be in a conversation with Thomas, he or she would be subjected to hour long rants about how the youth of today were no good, or on the invasion of technology, or on the annoyances of bugs. Thomas had a complaint about everything.

He was most often found wearing his patched-up tan coat ("All the clothes they got now are wimpy."), his brown pants ("Them jean-wearing young bucks ain't got no respect."), an old shirt ("New ones are all stiff and starchy."), brown boots ("Sandals? What are you, crazy? You'll get your feet all muddy!"), and a floppy fishing hat with a long tan feather sticking out top ("It belonged to my dear Pidgeot, may he rest in peace. We knew how to train critters in those days, not like these snippity young hoodlums that have to catch every durn type out there. Ridiculous!").

Every day, Old Man Thomas followed the exact same routine. He got up early and yelled at the neighbor's Zigzagoon for barking. He did any shopping in the morning, subjecting the attendants to gruff critiques. He went fishing, even though he never seemed to catch anything. He had a sandwich for lunch, then took a nap under a tree. In the afternoon, he fished again, this time yelling at any trainers or Pokemon that got too close. In the evening, he went home for supper and yelled at the Zig'oon again. Then he watched TV, complaining about anything that was on until it was time to go to bed.

And at that fateful time, it was quarter to one on a warm day. A light breeze blew through the area. Old Man Thomas turned on his radio to catch the relaxing Clefairy song broadcast. Instead, he heard, "This just in: there are reports of an unusual amount of Skitties on Route... fizzz."

"Blasted wind," he muttered. "Messing up the signal." Eventually he got the Clefairy station in clear and settled down for his daily nap.

"Mew? Skiiiity."

Thomas opened his eyes to find a small pink feline sitting on his cooler. It was, undoubtedly, cuter than any being had the right to be. It had wide hazel eyes and tufted pointy ears. It had tiny paws and a poofy tail. Leaning over his head, the little feline was pawing at the Pidgeot feather that had been swaying in the breeze.

"Buzz off," Thomas said sharply.

"Skiii!" The Skitty dashed away.

"Blasted no good feline," he muttered. He closed his eyes again.

"Skiiiity."

This time, there were two Skitties, twice the unnatural cuteness. They were swaying their heads to the Clefairy music, but didn't seem particularly sleepy. They were watching him and the Pidgeot feather.

"I told you to buzz off!"

"Skiii!" "Skiii!" The two bounded off.

Thomas glared at them for a moment. How dare they disturb his daily nap. Next time, he wouldn't be nice. After waiting for a minute to see if they'd reappear, he leaned back against his napping tree again. "Not even the critters show decent respect anymore," he grumbled, then went back to sleep.

"Skiiiity."

Not two, but five appeared now. They all sat on his cooler, swaying their heads to the Clefairy music and watching the feather. In an eerie manner, they mimicked each other exactly.

The grumpy old man flung his arm out over the cooler. "STOP pestering me, you little punks!"

"Skiii!" "Skiiii!" "Skiii!" "Skiiii!" "Skiiii!" With a grace that was also cute, they dodged his arm and rushed off into the tall grass.

Now he glowered. "I thought you buggers were supposed to be rare!"

"Mew?"

"Get outta here!"

"Skiii!" There was a rustling in the grass.

"I outta let that doggone Zig'oon go at you." He watched for several minutes. After hearing and seeing nothing more of the pink felines, he settled back down for his nap. He was going to lose some serious fishing time if this went on.

"SKIIIITY!"

This time, he jumped up. What greeted his eyes was a mass of pink tails and tufted ears. A whole flock of Skitties had shown up. Like an ocean of cuteness, their heads swayed back and forth in waves to the Clefairy music. Every single one of them stared up at him.

"YOU MISERABLE LITTLE BEASTS!"

This time, they did not run. They continued swaying their heads, looking up at him.

Old Man Thomas ran in a panic, screaming back into town. Too many Skitties.

"Mew?" A few of the Skitties looked at each other.

"Mew!" They all ran after Thomas.

…

Ruby entry: Skitty has the habit of becoming fascinated by moving objects and chasing them around. This Pokemon is known to chase after its own tail and become dizzy.

I admit that this one has an extra inspiration. I wanted to catch a Skitty, but could never find it in the wild. That is, until I ran into five in a row...