Forums · Another fanfic I wrote some time ago!
Definitely cheesier than the previous one I posted, but since no ever read it, I thought I might as well put it here. Oh, and I had to do some edits for language.
And yes, I know Delibird's bag is its tail now, and that they can fly, but I'm too lazy to go back and edit those details.
The room was cold and dark, seeing as it was still early morning. The room was claustrophobic, only having a bed, a nightstand with a digital clock on it, a closet, two doors?one to an outside hall and one to an even smaller bathroom, and a random assortment of items cluttering the floor with a rough path from the bed to the doors. On the bed slept a Delibird, obviously unaffected by the cold as he didn?t bother to pull his covers over him. The clock next to him buzzed out an alarm, and, half-asleep, the Delibird instinctively turned the alarm switch off. He then went back to his slumber, only to be awakened about 15 minutes later by the alarm on a watch sitting atop one of the various piles of stuff. This time, the Delibird woke without opening his eyes and lay there for a minute or two before rolling over and looking at the face of his clock.
?Crap!?
He bolted from his bed, hit the light switch, and ran to the bathroom. ?Oh, crap, oh, crap?? he muttered as he rushed through his daily cleansing. He ran out of the bathroom and ultimately into the hallway. He paused halfway down it, muttered another curse, and dashed back to his room. He came out again with a large white sack and dashed down the hall without checking to make sure his lights were off or his door was locked. He ran towards the stairs past doors of other Delibirds, sprinted down the steps, tripped halfway, and fell the rest. He cursed again as he got up from the bottom of the stairs and ran over to a door leading outside and went out, slamming the door behind him.
Outside, there were similar white, two-story dorms adjacent to the one our protagonist ran out of. There were for in total, forming a sort of half-oval, and the front of each faced a slightly larger-than-the-rest red building. It was placed almost in the center of the oval half-oval across a snow-covered lawn, and it was to here the Delibird was so frantic to reach. He opened the wide double-doors in the front, which were under a large sign saying in bold letters, ?Delibird Delivery; Always at your service.? He shut the doors behind him and dashed across the lobby to a small desk. Another Delibird was sitting behind it, reading a magazine, when he approached.
?Clock in, please,? the Delibird said in a monotone voice, not looking up at from his magazine. He tapped a card-reading machine. Our protagonist quickly shuffled through his bag until he pulled out an ID and swiped it through the machine. He then looked up at the clock on the wall above the desk. 6:31 A.M. He was only a minute and a half late.
?Not too bad,? the Delibird thought, ?maybe he won?t notice I?m late.?
?Trace, you?re late!? shouted Trace?s boss, yet another Delibird. ?This is the third time this week! How the hell can you keep being late when you literally live about thirty seconds away??
Trace stared at the floor in his boss?s office and began to mumble an explanation, but the other Delibird stopped him.
?I don?t even wanna know, there?s no excuse. Now, tell me, Trace,? he said, leaning forward in his chair and resting his arms, er, wing?whatever on his desk and fixing a cold glare on Trace. Trace gulped and looked up at his boss. The Delibird was taller than most, and his white feathers had long since gone gray with age and stress.
?Y-yes?? Trace said and gulped again.
?Tell me one thing: why do you keep this up? You?re already on thin ice already with your performance. Really, you botched a delivery just last week, and now tardiness? Do you want to be fired or something??
Trace jumped. ?N-no, Mr. Kraft.?
The Delibird nodded. ?That?s what I thought, Trace, but with your current performance, it?s starting to look that way.? Trace began staring at the floor again. ?Now, we here at Delibird Delivery pried ourselves in excellence, and that?s what you must show if you want to keep working here, excellence. Now, I?m going to give you one last chance,? Mr. Kraft said. ?Today, you?re going to be delivering an important package to a Venonat in Northwind Field.?
Trace began to say, ?Northwind Field?? but thought better of it and stood in silence as his boss continued.
?Like I said, the item, a mobile scarf, is very important and rare, so don?t lose it. Don?t go trying to use it, either. Now, Trace, this is your last chance, so don?t screw this up.?
?Y-yes, sir! Of course sir! I mean, of course I won?t, sir!? Trace said, nodding vigorously.
Mr. Kraft nodded and sat back in his chair. ?Good,? he said, then gave Trace the specifics of the job. After he had finished, he said, ?Now go see Francine, she?ll give you the mobile scarf.? Trace said that he would and hurried out of the office. He couldn?t have gotten out of there quickly enough.
Francine, not-surprisingly another Delibird, was busy sorting through a pile of assorted items in the storage room when Trace knocked sheepishly on the frame of the open door.
?I don?t get paid enough for this?? Francine mumbled to herself before she looked up at the Delibird. ?Oh, hi, Trace!? she said with a smile, dropping an evasion orb on the ground.
?Hey, Francine?? Trace said as he walked into the room.
?How are you doing this morning??
Trace sighed. ?Not too good. Hey, do you have that-??
?Mobile scarf?? It?s right here,? Francine said, reaching atop a nearby box and handing him the item. ?Mr. Kraft told me about it earlier.?
?Why, thanks!? Trace said, taking the item and putting it in his bag.
?This is supposed to be a really big delivery for you, right? Good luck!?
Trace gave a small smile. ?Thanks, I?ll need it. I?ll see you when I get back,? he said as he exited the room and shut the door behind him. He walked to a side door leading outside but stopped and stood there a while before going out.
?I?ll need all the friggin? luck I can get?? he mumbled to himself before opening the door and heading out.
As it turned out, however, when Trace was at Northwind Field (I don?t know how he got there, either), the luck he got wasn?t nearly enough.
?Oh, man, oh, man, this is so not good?? he muttered as he wandered along. In his rush to get to the site, he?d forgotten to stock up on any food or items essential for traveling. He was lost, tired, and all he wanted was to find this Venonat, deliver the goods, and go home.
?What kind of moron requests a delivery to a place like this, anyway?? Trace said to no one.
?Oh, probably a extra-stupid one,? came a voice from behind.
Trace jumped and turned to face the voice. It belonged to a Wartortle flanked by a Muk and a Poliwrath.
?Oh, h-hi,? stuttered the Delibird, ?didn?t see you there.?
?Hey, what?s that ya got there?? asked the Muk, pointing to Trace?s bag.
?Oh, oh, this? It?s just a mobile scarf?? He immediately regretted saying this.
?A mobile scarf? Thos are pretty rare, aren?t they?? the Poliwrath asked the Wartortle.
?That?s right,? replied the Wartortle before turning towards Trace again. ?How about you let us see that for awhile??
?I can?t do that!? said the flustered Delibird. He wanted to run, but his assailants had backed him against a wall by now, trapping him. ?I gotta deliver it for my job!?
?Have it your way,? said the Wartortle, which was the last thing Trace could remember before they started in on him.
?Do you think he?ll be alright??
?I gave him a reviver seed, he should wake up soon.?
Trace could hear voices. He wasn?t fully conscious, but slowly he was awakening.
?Hey, he?s coming around!? said the second voice.
?Really? Great! Hey, are you okay?? said the first voice.
?I wonder what happened to him?? said a third voice.
Trace came around and opened his eyes. A Meowth and a Totodile were kneeled over him, with a Haunter floating a few feet away. Trace moaned: he ached all over and his head was killing him.
?Hey, are you okay?? repeated the Meowth, owner of the first voice.
?Ugh?my head?who???
?We found you passed out on the path when we were walking by,? said the Haunter, owner of the third voice. ?It?s pretty lucky that we found you: it?s real dangerous here. For one thing, there?s the hostile pokemon??
?Hostile?pokemon?? Trace muttered, contemplated this for a second, then shot up, despite the pain he was in.
?Where is it?? he cried as he ran over to his bag, lying a few feet from the group. He frantically searched it. ?Where is it, where is it, where is it??
?Um, what?s the matter?? the Totodile, owner of the second voice, asked.
?Come on, where is it?? Trace said, ignoring the Totodile and upending the bag.
?Uhm??
?It?s gone! Oh, God, it?s gone!? the Delibird cried upon realization that his bag was empty.
?Now, hold on a sec,? said the Meowth. ?What?s gone? What?s the matter??
?It?s gone, the mobile scarf, its? gone! Oh, no, oh, no, why?d they have to take it? I?m so screwed!?
?They took it? What d?you mean; what happened??
Trace sat down, placed his wings on his temples, and recounted the story while shaking his head. ?I was just walking along, and-and, a Wartortle, Poliwrath, and Muk snuck up on me?then they wanted the scarf, but I wouldn?t, I couldn?t give it to them, then they ganged up on me and?oh, God!?
?Well, tell us more about it later,? interrupted the Haunter. ?We shouldn?t be standing around here for too long.?
The Meowth nodded. ?Algernon?s right. C?mon, you need help, right? Why don?t you come with us ?til we get out of here?? he asked Trace.
?R-really? Thanks so much!? replied the Delibird as he rose to his feet. His headache made him wince.
?My name?s Staccato, by the way,? the Meowth said. ?This is Marcato,? he said, indicating the Totodile, ? and this is Algernon,? doing the same for the Haunter.
?My name?s Trace,? said the Delibird. ?Really, you guys are lifesavers. If it weren?t for you, I?d?ah!? he exclaimed as a hydro pump flew past him.
?Sorry,? said Marcato, ?there was a Muk creeping up behind you.?
Trace turned around to see the vanquished foe, then quickly turned back to the party. ?Yeah, we really should get going.?
?So, you guys are a rescue team?? asked Trace later as the group traversed the deeper parts of the dungeon.
Staccato, leader of the team, nodded. ?That?s right, although, we?re not actually on a rescue right now.?
?Well, in that case, why are you here??
?We?ve come to see a pokemon here, Suicune, I think his name is,? said Marcato. ?He?s supposed to help us find some mirage pokemon.?
?Really?? Trace said, although he was still more concerned with his lost parcel (which had yet to reappear) than with mirage pokemon. ?Is he tough, Suicune, I mean??
?Probably, if he?s like the last two guys we fought,? said Algernon, referring to Raikou and Entei. ?We should meet him soon.?
The party arrived at Suicune?s lair about ten minutes later. They asked for his help, but, like the other two legendary dogs, he wouldn?t assist them without a fight. During the battle, Trace stood a safe distance away from the fighting?as Staccato had instructed him?and thought about the rescue team as they engaged the legendary dog.
?Team Catch-23, was it?? Trace thought as Marcato?s hydro pump and Algernon?s shadow ball simultaneously hit Suicune, ?They?re pretty nice. I really owe them one.?
After the team bested Suicune and the legendary dog helped them by changing their Sunset Wing into one of the Rainbow variety, the party took their leave of the dungeon.
?Are you sure you don?t want us to come with you?? Staccato asked Trace after they had exited the Field.
?No, no, I can get home myself. You?ve done enough for me already,? he replied.
?Alright, then, See ya, Trace!? Staccato said as Catch-23 returned to their base. Trace stood there a minute before heading toward his work and home. He?d failed the delivery, yes, but he reasoned that, after all that he?d been through, his job would be happy that he?d even come back.
?Why the hell did you even bother to come back?? Mr. Kraft roared at Trace in his office.
?Well, y?see??
?I don?t wanna hear it!? his boss bellowed. ?You?re fired, fired! Get all your crap out of your dorm in an hour and get the hell out!?
Crestfallen, Trace left the office to do what he was told. He stuffed whatever items in his room he could into his bag. He wanted to at least say good-bye to Francine, but she was nowhere to be found (in fact, the delivery service was short-handed at the moment, and she was out delivering a TM for a sick co-worker). He stood at the gate of Delibird Delivery, staring at his ex-job and ex-home, sighed, and turned to leave.
Trace had been drifting homeless and unemployed for two days now. His money was running low?he didn?t have much to begin with, anyway?and the realization of his current situation was taking its toll. He had wandered into the outskirts of Pokemon Square when he saw it. It was a rescue base, and upon its mailbox was painted, ?Catch-23?. Trace stopped when he saw that. Where had he heard that name before?wait?oh, yeah! Catch-23! That was the team that rescued him! He stood staring at their base (shaped like a Meowth?s head, for some reason) until he heard voices behind him. He turned, and, sure enough, Staccato, Marcato, and Algernon were approaching, chatting amongst themselves. Trace guessed that they had just returned from a mission and ran over to meet them.
?Hey, Staccato! Marcato! Algernon!? Traced called out as he approached the trio.
?Uh, hello?Trace! Yes, it?s Trace, isn?t it?? Staccato replied. ?How are you doing??
Trace wasted no time. He threw himself down at Staccato?s feet and began pleading. ?Please! I lost my job and my home and, and, I don?t have anywhere to go!?
?Er?? said Marcato and Algernon.
?Please, please, please, let me make up my rescue to you! Please, let me join your team! I?ve nowhere else to turn! Oh, please, oh, please!?
?Well?? Staccato said, ?what do you guys think??
?Well, he is pretty desperate,? said Marcato, noting the groveling Delibird, ?and it really could hurt. Besides, we could always use more members.? Algernon nodded in agreement.
?Right,? said the Meowth, then turned to Trace, ?You?re now a member of team Catch-23.?
?Really?? Trace cried, then began jumping for joy. ?Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! I?ll do anything you want, anything at all!?
?Well,? said Staccato, ?we have a client who wants us to deliver a scarf to him??
Trace fainted.
Yup...
And yes, I know Delibird's bag is its tail now, and that they can fly, but I'm too lazy to go back and edit those details.
The room was cold and dark, seeing as it was still early morning. The room was claustrophobic, only having a bed, a nightstand with a digital clock on it, a closet, two doors?one to an outside hall and one to an even smaller bathroom, and a random assortment of items cluttering the floor with a rough path from the bed to the doors. On the bed slept a Delibird, obviously unaffected by the cold as he didn?t bother to pull his covers over him. The clock next to him buzzed out an alarm, and, half-asleep, the Delibird instinctively turned the alarm switch off. He then went back to his slumber, only to be awakened about 15 minutes later by the alarm on a watch sitting atop one of the various piles of stuff. This time, the Delibird woke without opening his eyes and lay there for a minute or two before rolling over and looking at the face of his clock.
?Crap!?
He bolted from his bed, hit the light switch, and ran to the bathroom. ?Oh, crap, oh, crap?? he muttered as he rushed through his daily cleansing. He ran out of the bathroom and ultimately into the hallway. He paused halfway down it, muttered another curse, and dashed back to his room. He came out again with a large white sack and dashed down the hall without checking to make sure his lights were off or his door was locked. He ran towards the stairs past doors of other Delibirds, sprinted down the steps, tripped halfway, and fell the rest. He cursed again as he got up from the bottom of the stairs and ran over to a door leading outside and went out, slamming the door behind him.
Outside, there were similar white, two-story dorms adjacent to the one our protagonist ran out of. There were for in total, forming a sort of half-oval, and the front of each faced a slightly larger-than-the-rest red building. It was placed almost in the center of the oval half-oval across a snow-covered lawn, and it was to here the Delibird was so frantic to reach. He opened the wide double-doors in the front, which were under a large sign saying in bold letters, ?Delibird Delivery; Always at your service.? He shut the doors behind him and dashed across the lobby to a small desk. Another Delibird was sitting behind it, reading a magazine, when he approached.
?Clock in, please,? the Delibird said in a monotone voice, not looking up at from his magazine. He tapped a card-reading machine. Our protagonist quickly shuffled through his bag until he pulled out an ID and swiped it through the machine. He then looked up at the clock on the wall above the desk. 6:31 A.M. He was only a minute and a half late.
?Not too bad,? the Delibird thought, ?maybe he won?t notice I?m late.?
?Trace, you?re late!? shouted Trace?s boss, yet another Delibird. ?This is the third time this week! How the hell can you keep being late when you literally live about thirty seconds away??
Trace stared at the floor in his boss?s office and began to mumble an explanation, but the other Delibird stopped him.
?I don?t even wanna know, there?s no excuse. Now, tell me, Trace,? he said, leaning forward in his chair and resting his arms, er, wing?whatever on his desk and fixing a cold glare on Trace. Trace gulped and looked up at his boss. The Delibird was taller than most, and his white feathers had long since gone gray with age and stress.
?Y-yes?? Trace said and gulped again.
?Tell me one thing: why do you keep this up? You?re already on thin ice already with your performance. Really, you botched a delivery just last week, and now tardiness? Do you want to be fired or something??
Trace jumped. ?N-no, Mr. Kraft.?
The Delibird nodded. ?That?s what I thought, Trace, but with your current performance, it?s starting to look that way.? Trace began staring at the floor again. ?Now, we here at Delibird Delivery pried ourselves in excellence, and that?s what you must show if you want to keep working here, excellence. Now, I?m going to give you one last chance,? Mr. Kraft said. ?Today, you?re going to be delivering an important package to a Venonat in Northwind Field.?
Trace began to say, ?Northwind Field?? but thought better of it and stood in silence as his boss continued.
?Like I said, the item, a mobile scarf, is very important and rare, so don?t lose it. Don?t go trying to use it, either. Now, Trace, this is your last chance, so don?t screw this up.?
?Y-yes, sir! Of course sir! I mean, of course I won?t, sir!? Trace said, nodding vigorously.
Mr. Kraft nodded and sat back in his chair. ?Good,? he said, then gave Trace the specifics of the job. After he had finished, he said, ?Now go see Francine, she?ll give you the mobile scarf.? Trace said that he would and hurried out of the office. He couldn?t have gotten out of there quickly enough.
Francine, not-surprisingly another Delibird, was busy sorting through a pile of assorted items in the storage room when Trace knocked sheepishly on the frame of the open door.
?I don?t get paid enough for this?? Francine mumbled to herself before she looked up at the Delibird. ?Oh, hi, Trace!? she said with a smile, dropping an evasion orb on the ground.
?Hey, Francine?? Trace said as he walked into the room.
?How are you doing this morning??
Trace sighed. ?Not too good. Hey, do you have that-??
?Mobile scarf?? It?s right here,? Francine said, reaching atop a nearby box and handing him the item. ?Mr. Kraft told me about it earlier.?
?Why, thanks!? Trace said, taking the item and putting it in his bag.
?This is supposed to be a really big delivery for you, right? Good luck!?
Trace gave a small smile. ?Thanks, I?ll need it. I?ll see you when I get back,? he said as he exited the room and shut the door behind him. He walked to a side door leading outside but stopped and stood there a while before going out.
?I?ll need all the friggin? luck I can get?? he mumbled to himself before opening the door and heading out.
As it turned out, however, when Trace was at Northwind Field (I don?t know how he got there, either), the luck he got wasn?t nearly enough.
?Oh, man, oh, man, this is so not good?? he muttered as he wandered along. In his rush to get to the site, he?d forgotten to stock up on any food or items essential for traveling. He was lost, tired, and all he wanted was to find this Venonat, deliver the goods, and go home.
?What kind of moron requests a delivery to a place like this, anyway?? Trace said to no one.
?Oh, probably a extra-stupid one,? came a voice from behind.
Trace jumped and turned to face the voice. It belonged to a Wartortle flanked by a Muk and a Poliwrath.
?Oh, h-hi,? stuttered the Delibird, ?didn?t see you there.?
?Hey, what?s that ya got there?? asked the Muk, pointing to Trace?s bag.
?Oh, oh, this? It?s just a mobile scarf?? He immediately regretted saying this.
?A mobile scarf? Thos are pretty rare, aren?t they?? the Poliwrath asked the Wartortle.
?That?s right,? replied the Wartortle before turning towards Trace again. ?How about you let us see that for awhile??
?I can?t do that!? said the flustered Delibird. He wanted to run, but his assailants had backed him against a wall by now, trapping him. ?I gotta deliver it for my job!?
?Have it your way,? said the Wartortle, which was the last thing Trace could remember before they started in on him.
?Do you think he?ll be alright??
?I gave him a reviver seed, he should wake up soon.?
Trace could hear voices. He wasn?t fully conscious, but slowly he was awakening.
?Hey, he?s coming around!? said the second voice.
?Really? Great! Hey, are you okay?? said the first voice.
?I wonder what happened to him?? said a third voice.
Trace came around and opened his eyes. A Meowth and a Totodile were kneeled over him, with a Haunter floating a few feet away. Trace moaned: he ached all over and his head was killing him.
?Hey, are you okay?? repeated the Meowth, owner of the first voice.
?Ugh?my head?who???
?We found you passed out on the path when we were walking by,? said the Haunter, owner of the third voice. ?It?s pretty lucky that we found you: it?s real dangerous here. For one thing, there?s the hostile pokemon??
?Hostile?pokemon?? Trace muttered, contemplated this for a second, then shot up, despite the pain he was in.
?Where is it?? he cried as he ran over to his bag, lying a few feet from the group. He frantically searched it. ?Where is it, where is it, where is it??
?Um, what?s the matter?? the Totodile, owner of the second voice, asked.
?Come on, where is it?? Trace said, ignoring the Totodile and upending the bag.
?Uhm??
?It?s gone! Oh, God, it?s gone!? the Delibird cried upon realization that his bag was empty.
?Now, hold on a sec,? said the Meowth. ?What?s gone? What?s the matter??
?It?s gone, the mobile scarf, its? gone! Oh, no, oh, no, why?d they have to take it? I?m so screwed!?
?They took it? What d?you mean; what happened??
Trace sat down, placed his wings on his temples, and recounted the story while shaking his head. ?I was just walking along, and-and, a Wartortle, Poliwrath, and Muk snuck up on me?then they wanted the scarf, but I wouldn?t, I couldn?t give it to them, then they ganged up on me and?oh, God!?
?Well, tell us more about it later,? interrupted the Haunter. ?We shouldn?t be standing around here for too long.?
The Meowth nodded. ?Algernon?s right. C?mon, you need help, right? Why don?t you come with us ?til we get out of here?? he asked Trace.
?R-really? Thanks so much!? replied the Delibird as he rose to his feet. His headache made him wince.
?My name?s Staccato, by the way,? the Meowth said. ?This is Marcato,? he said, indicating the Totodile, ? and this is Algernon,? doing the same for the Haunter.
?My name?s Trace,? said the Delibird. ?Really, you guys are lifesavers. If it weren?t for you, I?d?ah!? he exclaimed as a hydro pump flew past him.
?Sorry,? said Marcato, ?there was a Muk creeping up behind you.?
Trace turned around to see the vanquished foe, then quickly turned back to the party. ?Yeah, we really should get going.?
?So, you guys are a rescue team?? asked Trace later as the group traversed the deeper parts of the dungeon.
Staccato, leader of the team, nodded. ?That?s right, although, we?re not actually on a rescue right now.?
?Well, in that case, why are you here??
?We?ve come to see a pokemon here, Suicune, I think his name is,? said Marcato. ?He?s supposed to help us find some mirage pokemon.?
?Really?? Trace said, although he was still more concerned with his lost parcel (which had yet to reappear) than with mirage pokemon. ?Is he tough, Suicune, I mean??
?Probably, if he?s like the last two guys we fought,? said Algernon, referring to Raikou and Entei. ?We should meet him soon.?
The party arrived at Suicune?s lair about ten minutes later. They asked for his help, but, like the other two legendary dogs, he wouldn?t assist them without a fight. During the battle, Trace stood a safe distance away from the fighting?as Staccato had instructed him?and thought about the rescue team as they engaged the legendary dog.
?Team Catch-23, was it?? Trace thought as Marcato?s hydro pump and Algernon?s shadow ball simultaneously hit Suicune, ?They?re pretty nice. I really owe them one.?
After the team bested Suicune and the legendary dog helped them by changing their Sunset Wing into one of the Rainbow variety, the party took their leave of the dungeon.
?Are you sure you don?t want us to come with you?? Staccato asked Trace after they had exited the Field.
?No, no, I can get home myself. You?ve done enough for me already,? he replied.
?Alright, then, See ya, Trace!? Staccato said as Catch-23 returned to their base. Trace stood there a minute before heading toward his work and home. He?d failed the delivery, yes, but he reasoned that, after all that he?d been through, his job would be happy that he?d even come back.
?Why the hell did you even bother to come back?? Mr. Kraft roared at Trace in his office.
?Well, y?see??
?I don?t wanna hear it!? his boss bellowed. ?You?re fired, fired! Get all your crap out of your dorm in an hour and get the hell out!?
Crestfallen, Trace left the office to do what he was told. He stuffed whatever items in his room he could into his bag. He wanted to at least say good-bye to Francine, but she was nowhere to be found (in fact, the delivery service was short-handed at the moment, and she was out delivering a TM for a sick co-worker). He stood at the gate of Delibird Delivery, staring at his ex-job and ex-home, sighed, and turned to leave.
Trace had been drifting homeless and unemployed for two days now. His money was running low?he didn?t have much to begin with, anyway?and the realization of his current situation was taking its toll. He had wandered into the outskirts of Pokemon Square when he saw it. It was a rescue base, and upon its mailbox was painted, ?Catch-23?. Trace stopped when he saw that. Where had he heard that name before?wait?oh, yeah! Catch-23! That was the team that rescued him! He stood staring at their base (shaped like a Meowth?s head, for some reason) until he heard voices behind him. He turned, and, sure enough, Staccato, Marcato, and Algernon were approaching, chatting amongst themselves. Trace guessed that they had just returned from a mission and ran over to meet them.
?Hey, Staccato! Marcato! Algernon!? Traced called out as he approached the trio.
?Uh, hello?Trace! Yes, it?s Trace, isn?t it?? Staccato replied. ?How are you doing??
Trace wasted no time. He threw himself down at Staccato?s feet and began pleading. ?Please! I lost my job and my home and, and, I don?t have anywhere to go!?
?Er?? said Marcato and Algernon.
?Please, please, please, let me make up my rescue to you! Please, let me join your team! I?ve nowhere else to turn! Oh, please, oh, please!?
?Well?? Staccato said, ?what do you guys think??
?Well, he is pretty desperate,? said Marcato, noting the groveling Delibird, ?and it really could hurt. Besides, we could always use more members.? Algernon nodded in agreement.
?Right,? said the Meowth, then turned to Trace, ?You?re now a member of team Catch-23.?
?Really?? Trace cried, then began jumping for joy. ?Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! I?ll do anything you want, anything at all!?
?Well,? said Staccato, ?we have a client who wants us to deliver a scarf to him??
Trace fainted.
Yup...
| QUOTE (AgentParanoia @ Aug 26 2007, 10:03 PM) | ||
I didn't intend for that line to be funny. But isolated, it's strangely hilarious. |
Muk spelled backwards is ku-*is shot*
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