It's a Whole New World

~ I always thought my sister was the artistically creative one, my brother the gaming phenom while myself the creative writer.... but I think I gotta hand it over to my brother. With his permission, i'll show you his creative genius that always amazes and astounds me.

I shouldn't need to post pictures to keep you interested (b/c this is some crazy-funny writing), but it is a wall of text! ~

So Sandra was playing Pokémon today, and was criticized by a bunch of us for using rare candies to level up her Pokémon rather than doing it the good ol' fashioned way. This led to her spontaneously resetting her game and beginning all over again from the beginning. Then, she demanded that someone write a story about her endeavors. That's what I do. I chronicle her failures. This is her story. Also it sort of gets out of hand. Who knows, maybe I'll write a continuation to this. With puppets. Maybe she'll read this. She deleted her Facebook account. Who knows? I did my job.

Sitting in the dressing room, Sandra's hands trembled with nerves. Throughout the years she had known ridicule and the sting of complete failure, but never had she been faced with such damning accusations. And today, she was going to have to confront them in front of the whole world.

"Ms Rai-ass? It's time?"

The intern from the Saffron Sentinel, Kanto's most distributed newspaper, calls Sandra into the press room, where thousands of reporters and fans await an answer from the famed Pokémon Trainer. After what seems like a lifetime walking to the podium, Sandra utters the words that would destroy the very sport of Pokétraining forever.

"In my time as a Pokétrainer, I have used Rare Candies to level up two of my Pokémon, and I am sorry"
First, there is nothing but terrible silence. Then, a roar of angry fans and probing reporters.
"You bastard! My daughter looked up to you!"
"She's a cheat! Shoot her! Shoot her!!!!"
"Is it true that you have never beat Metal Gear Solid?!"

Bottles are thrown. Flashes from cameras are numerous. Sandra gets escorted away by an armed guard.


Three years later, Sandra is working as an Aide for Professor Eigen.

"Sandra! What are you doing here?! I told you to stand out in Viridian Forest and hand out Flash HMs to anyone with ten Pokémon! Why must you fail me so!?"

"I ran out of HMs, professor! Then, a bunch of Beedrills came and attacked me! I'm deathly allergic to Beedrill stings."

"You're weak! Weak like your mother! "

Suddenly, the young Pokémon maven Bugcatcher Mitch runs in.

"Sandra! Sandra! Your Pokémon League license has been reinstated! You can compete again!"

"This is great news! You'll train me again, won't you Professor?"

"Arrrrrghh I guess. But this time, we'll do things my way. Come! To the breeding tanks!"

Twenty stories below the Eigen Laboratory of Evil and Advanced Science lays the infamous breeding tanks, birthing place of the greatest monsters of all. Sandra goes there for the first time, and she sees the true horrors that lie beneath.

"Good god, professor. This place is terrible."

"This is where we will breed your Pokémon of death. It will drink only blood, eat only raw flesh, and kill Teddiursas for fucking laughs! And all because of this Pokémon's loins of doom!"

Professor Eigen then yanks a cloth off a clear jar, revealing a worn out Ditto. For over a decade, this Ditto has made thousands, maybe a million eggs. Most hatchlings are never used, left to rot in too-small cages. Those few that are selected become beasts of mythology. Only very few Pokémon ever escape a dark imprisonment. Being gifted one is a tremendous honor.

"Now then, which Pokémon do you want?"

"Okay, how about-"

"Oddish? Oddish it is!"

With that, the Professor throws a Pokéball into the glass jar, which releases an Vileplume. A terrible scream is heard before the Ditto goes to work.

"Oh god! Professor, this is wrong!"

"You shut up! You want to be a scrub?! Like Mitch? Or a champion! Like this awesome Tyrantir!"

Suddenly, a Tyrantir busts through a cement wall and lets off an awesome roar. With that, Sandra is convinced. This is a man who can lead one to greatness.

Five days later, Professor Eigen wakes Sandra at 3 in the morning.

"Wake up! Your Oddish has been built!"

Indeed, an Oddish now stands beside the Professor. Only this one, has a mean look to it, constantly with a deep frown on it's face. It's teeth sharpened into fangs, and only dead silence instead of the usual clamoring that follow newborn Pokémon.

"I feel like this thing is going to kill me in my fucking sleep!"

"I know! Isn't it great? Oddish, blow up that house!"

With that, Oddish fires a solarbeam at a nearby house, destroying it in a cloud a dust.

"How did it use Solarbeam? It's nighttime! And people were in that fucking house!"

"That's what makes it funny. Now then, do we have a deal? You will train this Oddish?"

"I-I guess. Come along, Oddish"

"Oh, it's not actually called Oddish"

The Professor points at the inscribed text on the Oddish's Pokéball.

"Boomsdale? You named it Boomsdale?"

"Hey, when you name fifty failed Oddishes you start to run out of good names."

"That's it, I can't do this. I was fine with the repeat homicide offenses and forced Pokémon breeding rape scheme, but I won't go on a goddamn Pokémon adventure with a fucking Oddish named Boomsdale."

"It's far too late for that. You will be this Pokémon's trainer, or you will be destroyed."

Boomsdale bares it's fangs. A deep hiss emanates from it's sludge-filled mouth. Sandra is doomed, until-


The Pigeotto that Sandra had previously rare candied into infamy returns, striking at the fearsome Oddish.

"Sandra! You have to run! Come on!"

Mitch cries out from the distance, beckoning Sandra over to his speedy pink Crobat. And so, Sandra runs. She looks back only to see her Pigeotto turned into a glistening skeleton, reduced to such by Boomsdale's Sludge Bomb.

"Tony Stark! Kill those motherfuckers!"

Suddenly, an Articuno apparently called Tony Stark soars out from the peak of Eigen Laboratories, breaking through it's walls as if it were paper maché.

"Go Crobat! We need to fucking go!"

Crobat grabs his two passengers and leaps into the air just as a javelin of ice strikes the ground where Sandra once occupied. And thus, Sandra and Mitch escape into the dawn.

"You'll never escape me! You hear me! I'll hunt you to the ends of the fucking earth!"

Slowly, Eigen's shrieking visage becomes a distant speck. But Sandra knows this isn't the end. Only blood will soothe the Professor's anger.


"You're fools! Both of you! That man will never stop!"

Three days later, Sandra and Mitch stand within the Newhook Laboratory of Purity and Advanced Science. The Lab is only two ill-lit rooms, with books and porn littered amongst dirty clothes and ruined furniture.

"That is why we will need Pokémon to defend ourselves, Adam. Do you have anything we can use?"

"Anything you can use? I've seen that man throw a Pokéball containing a Pokémon into a furnace to teach his other Pokémon a lesson. You can't defeat a man like that!"

"You must have something! We're desperate, Professor!"

"Hmmph. Well, if you must have a Pokémon today, I do have this"

And thus, Professor Newhook produced a Cyndaquil and a Houndour.

"I saved these from Eigen's cages. Perhaps a saved life will fare better against such evil."

"Thanks Professor!"

"Don't thank me. You have no idea the horror that awaits you. Your Pokémon Adventure begins!"


"Their betrayal vexes me. I'm terribly vexed."

Upon his throne of the bones of former champions sits Professor Eigen, lost in contemplation. In his hands, he casually plays catch with a Pokéball.

"You will find them. And you will kill them. Do you understand?"

In the room stands a solitary figure, wrapped in dark, hooded robes, who nods solemnly at the Professor's request.

"Good. Then your Pokémon Adventure begins."

And with that, the Professor passes the Pokéball to the shadowy man. Without a word, the robed man known only as Paul throws the Pokéball, releasing a monstrous Growlithe.

"Paul, you shall bring me back their heads!"

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