FicWad

A/N: Hi there! I’m back again, and this time, I’ve brought the second chapter of my fanfiction! (Cheers) Okay, enough of that (turns off the sitcom soundtrack). Chapter two deals with the first Pokémon I capture, and let me tell you, I have a handful with this one. Hey, your mother. On with the fic!



Chapter 2: I Got A Cubone To Pick With You!



As soon as I was home, I tossed my backpack, one with a single strap that went from my right shoulder to my left hip, on my bed and ran through the small apartment, gathering various items from their places in my place of residence.
Because I had no legal guardian when my great-grandpa died, I petitioned for an emancipation, and was granted it by Minnesota Supreme Court. The government would pay my rent and I would get a set amount of money each month, as well as a groceries allowance to buy food and stuff like that.
But back to my packing. After sorting through the pile of supplies and found several things that I’d grabbed on accident, including the television remote, a single battery, and a stale chip. Tossing them aside, I dumped all my school supplies on my bed and started packing my traveling supplies in the backpack.
Three extra sets of clothes, at least twenty Cups o’ Noodles ramen cups, a couple of Potions (Potions are a mix of chemicals that heals Pokémon’s wounds quickly), a portable DVD player, and several DVDs went into the big zipper of the pack. A few books, a notepad, some pencils and a permanent marker went into the middle pocket. On the right side of my pack was a sort of pull-out drawer with small cubbies in it. When I bought this pack, the sales guy told me that this was to store berries in. There was a cooling unit inside the bag, so the berries would stay fresh for a while. I didn’t put anything in there.
On the other side, I put my water jug in the mesh net pouch and pulled the drawstring tight. There were several large pockets on the shoulder strap itself, and one of them, the biggest, was an accordion file with about ninety slots big enough for CDs. But the salesman told me these pouches were for Technical Machines. TMs are little instructional discs that you have your Pokémon watch, and the TM teaches the Pokémon a specific move, depending on which TM it is. Technical Machines can only be used one time, though.
So after I’d finished packing, I checked my watch, whose face was on the inside of my wrist. It was only 2:30 in the afternoon. I grabbed up my phone and called Dom and Holly’s house. I heard the phone ring three times, then it picked up. “Hello?” came a woman’s voice. It was Yolanda Wentz, Dom and Holly’s mom. Yoli was a wonderful woman. I’d never met their dad, though. He was a traveler, too, but he sounded like a great guy.
“Hi, Yoli,” I said. “Is Dom there?”
“Oh, hi, Zephyr,” she said. “I heard that you got a Trainer’s Card, too. Hold on a minute. Dom! Phone!” There was the sound of muffled footsteps, and then the phone crackled as it changed hands, then Dom’s voice came through the reciever.
“What’s up?” he said, a little breathlessly. “I’m still packing.”
“I already finished,” I said, jumping onto the couch to turn on the television with the remote that I’d grabbed to pack. “Man, I’m so psyched!”
“Seriously,” said Dom. There was a sudden beeping sound on the other end of the phone. “Hold on, I got another call.” The line went silent for a while, and then two more voices entered the conversation. Holly was on the other handset at the Wentz residence and Jimmy had called and Dom was using three-way.
“You guys ready yet?” asked Jimmy. He sounded excited. “I packed about half of my bathroom.”
“I almost packed my remote,” I said. The others chuckled a little bit. “Hey, Jimmy, call Brian, yeah?”
“Okay, hold on.” Jimmy’s line went blank.
“Can you believe this?” asked Holly. “I think I’ve pinched myself about twenty times to make sure this isn’t a dream. Where are we going to go first?”
“What are you talking about?” came Brian’s voice down Jimmy’s line. “Didn’t you look properly at your Trainer’s Card?”
“Yeah,” said Holly ruefully. “My picture has a great big zit on my cheek.”
“No, stupid,” said Brian. “The status says Single Trainer. That means that we have to go on our travels alone.”
Silence for a moment. “Hello?” I asked, checking to make sure that I hadn’t accidentally hung up on my friends.
“We’re still here,” said Dom. “Damn it to hell!” he cursed. “I thought it was gonna be us five conquering the world with our super-sweet Pokémon skillz. Now I find out that the dream team’s being split apart, like . . . like an apple pie!”
“Whoa, Dom,” I said soothingly. “No need to go all hypoglycemic on us. Calm down. It’s cool. I’m sure we’ll see each other from time to time on the roads. And if we don’t, then we’re definitely going to see each other at this year’s Pokémon League, right?”
“Yeah,” said Jimmy, sounding forlorn.
“So where’re you going first?” asked Brian.
“I call Minneapolis!” shouted Dom.
“Damn it,” muttered Jimmy. “That means that none of us can go there first. I guess I’ll go to Denver for my first Badge.
“I’ve decided to go to Houston,” said Holly. “I’m gonna visit Uncle Bob.”
“That leaves me with Baton Rouge,” said Brian. “And you get the farthest choices between L. A., Salem, New York, or Miami.”
“I’ll go to Salem, I suppose,” I said, resigned to the fact that I was going to get my first Badge long after my friends would. “Well, I’d better get going, then. Good luck and I’ll see you soon.”
There was a chorus of well-wishes and good-byes before I hung up the phone. I went into my bathroom to grab an extra tube of toothpaste, a few rolls of toilet paper and several bars of soap, then put them in my bag. Then I dug in my closet and retrieved my rolled-up sleeping bag and tied it to the top of the pack.
“There,” I said to no one in particular. “Finished packing.” I shouldered the pack and stepped out of my apartment, locking the door and putting the key in my wallet.

It took me about five minutes to get to the edge of Black Forest. There was a dirt road for Trainers that branched away from the asphalt of the streets that allowed cars and other vehicles to bring supplies and people to and from the small town.
I called out Torch, who barked cheerfully. I clambered up onto his back, and as soon as I had a leg on both sides of him, he took off, going at least forty miles per hour down the road. The trees flashed past us in a green and brown blur that melded together to form solid walls to either side of us. It took me a moment to realize that Torch was using Extremespeed and it occurred to me that Torch and I had never had the chance to just run. When I had moved to Minnesota, Torch was still a Growlithe.
Now we were moving at roughly eighty miles an hour, with the green and brown blurs becoming a solid olive color. This felt good, experiencing what Torch did all the time during battle. The wind in my hair, the cool breeze hitting my bare face. It was a wonder that Torch stopped moving this quickly at all because of how wonderful a feeling it was.
I was still reveling in the sensation of near-flight when Torch suddenly skidded to a halt. When he was completely stopped, I was still going about twenty miles, and I flew off his back over his head and slid on my chest for about a yard.
When I could see straight, I realized that something was in front of me. And it seemed angry for some reason. I looked up and saw a small brown Pokémon, standing on two thick legs and supported by a thick tail. It had a skull over its head, the eye sockets opening to reveal amber eyes and brown skin around the real eyes. In its hand, the Pokémon was holding a big bone like a club.
It was a Cubone, Ground-type and basic evolutionary form. It looked so small that it could’ve just hatched from its egg a few days ago. But boy, did it look angry. It was jumping up and down on the spot, waving its bone threateningly at me.
I looked around and found that Torch had strayed from the path. We were in a wooded area, with trees with black bark. That was the reason my town was called Black Forest. The black trees that hid behind the normal, brown-wooded ones. I also saw that I was lying in a pile of leaves that was probably this irate Cubone’s bed before I made an impromptu crash-landing on it.
“Oh, sorry, little Cubone,” I said, trying to placate the small Ground-type. But this seemed to only make it angrier. I say this because the Cubone whacked me on the crown of my skull with its bone. If you’ve never been hit by a Cubone, with its bone club or not, let me tell you, it hurts a lot.
Now I was angry, too. Clutching my head, which was throbbing something fierce, I pointed at the Cubone and glanced through watering eyes to Torch. “Flamethrower!” Torch looked at me with somber eyes, then turned and let out a small stream of flames.
Even with the attack greatly diminished, the Cubone still seemed to take a lot of damage. It stumbled back, raising its bone defensively, then threw it. Bonemerang attack. Torch easily side-stepped the bone and leapt over it when it came back from the other way. Then, Torch took a rather unorthodox approach. He raised his paw, which was roughly the size of a trashcan lid, and smacked the Cubone. Yes, smacked. You might be thinking, An Arcanine can’t smack anything. You know the cracking sound that happens when somebody’s palm meets another person’s face? Well, Torch’s paw made the same sound on the Cubone’s bone skull. And that Cubone went down.
“I guess I should catch it, huh?” I said. Torch rolled his eyes at me, as if saying ‘No duh.’ I reached into my pocket, grabbed a Pokéball, and tossed it at the Cubone’s prone form. The small circular button at the front of the ball hit Cubone and opened it up. The Cubone became a ball of red light and the Pokéball closed up. The small circle glowed red, and the Pokéball shook around a few times, then was silent, and the circle stopped glowing.
It was official. I was now a full-fledged Pokémon Trainer. I’d caught my first Pokémon. It may have been a rather runty Cubone, but size doesn’t necessarily matter. And Cubones evolved into Marowaks, which are pretty powerful in their own right.
I strode over and picked up the ball, pressing the button and releasing my Cubone. That sounded good. My Cubone. Not yours, mine. The Cubone erupted in a burst of white light, shook itself experimentally, then looked up at me with its amber-colored eyes.
“Cu?” it asked me, as if inquiring if it had been caught.
“You need a name,” I said. Torch barked and licked the Cubone with his big, pink tongue and inadvertently knocking the smaller Pokémon over. I had always been good at giving names to Pokémon. It was a sort of hobby of mine. I’d once rescued a Meowth, a jet-black one, from being eaten by some Chinese people and named it Salem. It turned out to be a girl so I gave her to Holly. Yes, Salem is now Holly’s Persian.
“How about Jolly Roger?” I said. “You know, like the skull and crossbones that the pirates used to fly on their flags.” The Cubone raised his bone, as if christening himself. It appeared to like that name, because it went right up to me and patted me on the knee companionably. “Guess you like it, then. We should get going then.”
I drew Jolly Roger back into his Pokéball, put it in my pocket and jumped back onto Torch. “And if you’re gonna stop,” I told him. “Warn me next time.”
Torch barked an affirmative and then leapt forward, though taking it more slowly after we’d found the dirt road again.

That night, we were camping on the border of North Dakota and South Dakota. I had built a fire, which was now crackling merrily, and Torch and Jolly Roger were laying near it. Jolly was holding a stick with a marshmallow on it over the fire. For a Pokémon, he was a really fast learner. It only took him two burnt marshmallows to get the hang of roasting them.
My cell phone rang, scaring me shitless. It’s really weird, being in the middle of nowhere and suddenly you hear ‘Two minutes to midnight!’ which is my ringtone. After I’d forced my heartbeat back down my throat I opened it up and put it to my ear.
“Hello?”
“Hello yourself,” came a feminine voice.
“Holly?”
“What other girls know your private line?” countered my friend. I sighed and leaned against the trunk of a tree.
“Well . . .” I started.
“Wait, don’t answer that,” she said. “I don’t wanna listen to you rambling on and on about imaginary girlfriends.”
“You’re just jealous,” I said. “So where are you?”
“Northern Iowa,” was her reply. “I caught a bus, and that’s now I’m sitting behind a really fat guy who likes to snore and lean his chair back way too much.” As if to emphasize what she was saying, there was a loud, grunting snore in the reciever. “Anyway, how far have you gotten?”
“I’m in South Dakota,” I said. “With my two Pokémon.” I waited for a minute to let it sink in. Then . . .
“What!?” Holly exclaimed. “You already caught your first one? What is it?”
“Easy,” I said. “His name’s Jolly Roger. Guess what species he is.”
There was silence for a moment. “A Cubone?”
“Right. He whacked me on the head and then Torch pimp smacked him.”
“Pimp smacked?”
“I kid you not. He raised his paw and slapped Jolly Roger right in the head. It was so funny.” Jolly Roger glared at me as he ate his marshmallow.
“Well, I’d better catch up on my winks,” said Holly. “Talk to you soon. Bye.”
“G’night,” I said, and the phone clicked dead. I flipped it shut and dropped it back into my pocket, ready for a goodnight’s sleep. I guess the universe had a different plan, though, because one minute, I was walking back to my sleeping bag and the next, well, the next I was hanging upside down by my ankles.
“What the fuck?” I said, more bewildered than angry, which surprised me even more. I’d always thought that if I’d gotten caught in a snare, I’d be demonic.
There was a bell tied to the other end of the snare, and as I hung dangling about three feet above the ground, with Torch and Jolly Roger looking amusedly at me, a tinny chime could be heard, followed by the crash of a person through the undergrowth of the forest.
“Haha! I finally caught you!” shouted a gleeful voice. “Now you’re mine . . . Zeph?” The rope slowly rotated, and I saw none other than Brian, Hulk just behind him, and both looking very surprised. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“That’s a very good question,” I said as the sound of rushing blood filled my ears. “But I have a better one. Could you get me down?”

A few minutes later, Brian and Hulk were also sitting by our fire, and Brian was laughing his ass off that I had fallen into his trap, which I found out that he’d set to snare a wild Shinx. Shinxes look a little like lion cubs, except their upper body is covered in blue fur, and the back half is black. And instead of the little tuft of fur at the end of the tail, there’s what looks like a yellow sunburst. Shinxes are the basic evolutionary form of its set, and an Electric-type Pokémon. They’re also extremely fast.
“So Dom called me today,” said Brian as he checked his hot dog, which was roasting nicely on a stick near the flames. “He lost his Gym match.”
“He tried it as soon as he got there?” I said, astonished that Dom would do something that stupid. He’s usually a very cautious person. “What the hell was he smoking?”
“I dunno,” said Brian, rotating the stick. “So Jolly Roger’s your first caught Pokémon, huh?” He watched as the diminuitive Cubone assembled several s’mores for us. He’d found a bar of chocolate and some graham crackers in Brian’s bag. “That’s one of the smartest Cubones I’ve ever seen. Kinda runty, though.”
“Size isn’t always important,” I said, shrugging. Jolly Roger came over to me and handed me one of the s’mores. “Remember that little tiny Gorebyss that saved all those people when that boat sank in the Atlantic?”
“That’s true,” said Brian. “Well, I’d better get moving if I wanna catch that Shinx. Packs one helluva Thundershock in that little body.” He got up, dusted his pants off and motioned to Hulk, who jumped to his feet and the two disappeared into the darkness of the forest.

The next day, I decided to give Torch a rest and continued on foot with Jolly Roger. Walking is a lot slower than riding Torch, but he deserved a nice repose. He did get me as far as South Dakota, after all. Jolly Roger and I saw a lot of wild Pokémon in the wilderness, but I didn’t see any that I wanted to catch.
At about noon, we stopped to have some lunch, composed of two cups of ramen. But we saw a Pecha Berry tree. Pecha berries are very sweet and really tender, but the ones that I could reach weren’t very ripe. The ones that were ripe were all up near the top of the tree.
I was trying to figure out how to get some down, when Jolly Roger came up with the solution. He stepped far back from the tree, cocked back his arm and hurled his bone at the boughs. The Bonemerang hit five of the juicy berries and I caught them before they fell to the forest floor.
I handed the small Cubone two of them and put one of them in the berry pocket of my pack for later. They are not only very good to eat, but they can also counteract any poison inflicted by a Pokémon attack, like Toxic or Poison Sting.
We polished off the fruit quickly and were getting ready to leave when a man who looked like he was in his early twenties came out of the trees. He was about three or four inches taller than me, but his girth made him look a lot shorter. He was wearing a red vest over a black t-shirt, and had dark jeans and well-worn boots. At his waist was a coil of rope, and he wore a red hat on his head. This guy was a Pokémon Ranger. Rangers were people who dedicated their lives to the well-being of Pokémon everywhere, and one could find a Pokémon Ranger in nearly every type of environment, just like Pokémon themselves.
Jolly Roger tensed as soon as he saw the Ranger, and I was just dowsing the fire we’d used to make the Cup o’ Noodles when he showed up.
“What’re you doing here?” asked the Ranger. He had his hand on his belt, where several Pokéballs were hooked on securely. “I doubt you’re old enough to be traveling with a Pokémon.”
“Relax, buddy,” I said. “I got a special permit from the MTA.” I pulled out my wallet and flashed him my Trainer’s Card. “I’m capable of traveling on my own.”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” said the Ranger. “After all, I am Devon Redwood, Pokémon Ranger extraordinaire.” He struck a pose, flashing extremely white teeth and giving the thumbs-up. He looked kinda foolish, if you ask me. Then again, that’s just my opinion, but I swear to God I almost busted an anime sweatdrop. “We’ll battle to see if you can handle your Pokémon as well as I, though I highly doubt it.”
“Okay,” I said. “But I’m only gonna use one Pokémon because my other one’s taking a rest right now. I patted my pocket where Torch’s Pokéball was.”
“What, that little tiny Cubone?” scoffed Devon. “It looks like it wouldn’t stand an attack by a Magikarp.” He laughed. This guy was really starting to annoy me. Jolly Roger looked agitated, too. During our brief time together, I’d learned that he had a very short temper. Once, when a Nidorino burst through the underbrush and knocked Jolly Roger on his backside, my newest Pokémon used Bone Club on the more powerful Pokémon and struck it unconscious.
“Alright, let’s go,” I said, standing up. Jolly Roger strode over to stand in front of me. “You can use all your Pokémon if you want. Jolly Roger’ll knock ‘em all out.”
“If you insist,” said Devon, shrugging. He picked a Pokéball from his belt and tossed it out. The ball burst open, and the light solidified into what looked like a big, violet-colored snake with a yellow stripe near its head. It was a lot bigger than Jolly Roger, too. An Ekans, Poison-type and the basic evolutionary form.
I grinned. Apparently, Devon hadn’t studied up enough to know that Poison-types were weak against Ground-types like Jolly Roger.
The two Pokémon sized each other up for a long moment. “Go, Ekans! Poison Sting!” shouted Devon. The Ekans opened its wide mouth and violet needles shot from a hidden venom gland.
“Watch it, Jolly Roger,” I said. He twirled his bone in front of him, and the stingers shattered on the bone. “Okay, now. Bonemerang!” Jolly Roger nodded, hurling the bone at Ekans. The snake weaved its body around the projectile and rushed in.
“Wrap attack!” called Devon. In the blink of an eye, the Ekans had coiled around Jolly Roger and undulated its body, squeezing its powerful muscles against Jolly Roger. Then, his bone came whirling back, smacking right into Ekans’s head and making him see little birdies.
The Ekans’s coils loosened, and Jolly Roger jumped free, catching his bone. “Now, finish it off with Bone Club!” I said, thoroughly enjoying the look on Devon’s face. The Ekans was swaying to and fro like it was drunk, and Jolly Roger leapt up level with its head, whacking it hard with the bone and sending it flying into a nearby tree.
The snake Pokémon slumped to the floor in a heap, completely out cold. “What!?” exclaimed Devon. “How did that runty little Cubone knock out my super-powerful Ekans?” He sent his red beam lancing at Ekans’s prone form, and the snake returned to its Pokéball. “You just got lucky. This next one’ll get your stupid bone-head.”
He sent out another Pokéball, which turned out to hold what at first glance looked like a medium-sized boulder. Then, it extended two thick legs and four strong-looking arms. It was a Graveler, the first-stage evolution of Geodude, and it was a Rock/Ground-type combination Pokémon.
“Rollout!” shouted Devon. The Graveler tucked in its arms and legs and began rolling around the forest floor like a bowling ball.
“Get out of the way!” I shouted. Jolly Roger jumped out of the Graveler’s path with millimeters to spare. Graveler kept on rolling and it ran right into a tree. I cheered, but my elation was unfounded, because with an almighty crack, the tree fell down and the Graveler redirected itself once again to zero in on Jolly Roger.
Once again, Jolly Roger leapt out of the way, but the Graveler switched courses with frightening speed, and its very solid body collided with Jolly Roger’s diminuitive form, smacking him to the ground several yards away.
“Jolly Roger, are you alright?” I shouted, fearing for his safety. But Jolly Roger was a trooper, and he was too proud to stay down after only one attack. Using his bone as a crutch, he struggled to his feet, and took a battle stance again. Man I was proud of that little guy. “Okay, now,” I said. “Get ready for it.”
Graveler was making another pass at Jolly Roger, who was holding his ground. At the last second, I yelled, “Stick your bone in the ground!”
“Ha!” said Devon. “You think that little thing will stop Graveler?” Jolly Roger, however, complied, burying it at a diagonal angle. Graveler continued rolling, but few people know that a Cubone’s bone is harder than reinforced steel, and much more pliable. When Graveler was at the very tip of the bone, the bone bent back and shot back like a springboard, sending Graveler hurtling through the air back the way it had come.
“Now, Bone Club! Send it back to Earth!” I shouted. Jolly Roger yanked his bone out of the ground and jumped back up into the air, following the Graveler. When he was directly above the boulder Pokémon, Jolly Roger swung the bone like a pro baseball player, and Graveler was forcefully returned to the ground with such force, it made a crater in the forest floor. Jolly Roger landed directly on top of the knocked-out Pokémon. “Awright!” I said. “Two down!”
Grumbling darkly, Devon recalled his Graveler and selected his third, and last Pokéball, throwing it out onto the foliage. It exploded, revealing a huge, light brown-feathered bird with an extensive wingspan and a long, needle-like beak, and at the top of its head, there was a reddish plume of feathers longer than the rest. It was a Fearow, the final evolution of the Flying-type Pokémon Spearow.
Now this battle would take some strategy. Fearow was a Flying-type Pokémon, which meant that most of Jolly Roger’s attacks wouldn’t even hit it, seeing as how they were mostly Ground-type attacks.
“Okay, then,” I said. Jolly Roger’s eyes were set. He wasn’t backing down, even if his opponent was one of the strongest bird Pokémon. “Start it off! Focus Energy!”
Jolly Roger closed his eyes, and his body started giving off a strange orange-red glow as he focused all his power, giving him a higher attack rating. Devon saw this as an attack of opportunity.
“Fearow! Wing Attack!” The Fearow swooped low and buffeted Jolly Roger with its huge wings, striking him in all directions except from below. Jolly Roger stumbled back, his body slightly bruised. He’d already taken three powerful attacks, one from each Pokémon.
“Try hitting it with a Bonemerang!” I shouted. The bone when flying through the air, but Fearow dodged it almost lazily, gaining altitude. Jolly Roger caught the bone, his eyes very angry.
“Fury Attack!” called Devon, an infuriating smirk on his smug face. Fearow jabbed out multiple times with its beak, making Jolly Roger parry with his bone, slowly backing him into a tree.
“Get outta there!” I shouted. Jolly Roger ducked under one of Fearow’s attacks, and rolled underneath it, bolting for the cover of another tree.
“Pursuit!” shouted Devon. The Fearow, not wanting to release its prey, rose in the air and dove down, aiming its beak straight at Jolly Roger. There I saw my opportunity.
“Jolly Roger! Headbutt!” I called, hoping my smart little Cubone would understand. Jolly Roger jumped into the air, planting his tiny feet on the bark and ricocheting off, zooming straight at the oncoming Fearow. The Fearow tried to kill speed by flaring its wings, but Jolly Roger was coming in too fast. His skull-protected head slammed straight into the bird Pokémon, and they both fell to the ground like a stone, Jolly Roger once again on top of the other Pokémon.
“Finish up with a Bone Club!” I called. The Fearow’s head, weaving back and forth on its long, crane-like neck, snapped back as Jolly Roger’s bone made contact with it, and it slumped back to the floor. “Game, set, and match,” I told Devon. “Nice work, Jolly Roger!”
Jolly Roger saluted me with his bone as the Fearow disappeared back into its Pokéball. “You got lucky,” muttered Devon angrily as he handed over some money. See, in Trainer battles, the winner gets prize money from the loser. It’s how Trainers make a living.
“Oh, no,” I said, pocketing the fifty bucks with a grin.. “You’re the lucky one. Wanna see what you would’ve been up against had Jolly Roger been knocked out?” Warily, the Pokémon Ranger nodded. I dug in my pocket, and called out Torch, who appeared in a burst of light, in all his canine glory.
He stared down at Devon, who backed up a few steps. “Th-that’s your other Pokémon?” he asked weakly. I nodded, grinning. “My Graveler could’ve taken it. It’s a Fire-type.”
“I beg to differ,” I told him. “Torch could probably take most of the Gym Leaders’s strongest Pokémon single-handedly. Or single-pawedly, I should say.” Torch growled his affirmative, and trying to make a point, released a thin stream of flames, which hit the tree right above Devon’s head, creating a perfectly circular hole in the bark, leaving nothing that suggested burning, not even a small scorch-mark.
“O-okay, then,” said Devon shakily. “I suppose you’re good enough to handle yourself. Good day and carry on.” And with that, he practically fled from us.
I stared at the spot where he disappeared, then turned to Jolly Roger. “That was amazing!” I told him, clapping the small Pokémon on the back. “I didn’t think you’d understand what I was trying to do when I told you to do Headbutt, but you were so awesome!”
“Cu, cubone, bone cu,” said Jolly Roger embarrassedly, rubbing the back of his head. Torch barked and licked Jolly Roger, once again sending the tiny Cubone sprawling. “Cu! Bone bone!” muttered Jolly Roger, shaking his bone threateningly at Torch, but making no further move. I think the battle between the two was still fresh in Jolly’s mind.
“Alright, hot-head,” I said, patting his skull headgear. “Let’s get moving again. I wanna reach a city so we can catch a bus to Salem, Oregon tomorrow, ‘kay?” The two Pokémon nodded, and I decided to keep Torch out, but call Jolly Roger back, giving him a well-earned rest.


A/N: Hazah! Chapter numero dos es completenemos! My Spanish could use a little workout, sorry. But there’s chapter two. I now have a Cubone, and even though it’s kinda short, it’s still every bit as smart as a full-grown Marowak. Like that Noctowl that Ash catches in the Johto region. But anyways, the next thing that I post will be an extensive look into the Gyms of America. I’m giving you another sneak peek into my fanfiction, so count yourselves extremely lucky and junk.

Sayonara,

Fullmetal Jonin