From: Adrian Tymes (wingcat@pacbell.net) Subject: [PW!] Cynk or swim Newsgroups: alt.games.nintendo.pokemon Date: 2001-06-17 23:42:14 PST <Well, dude, it was nice racin' ya, but I have to turn the car back in now.> The zubat replaces his ear muffles and revs his car's engine. <I was just supposed to put a few kilometers on the car, make sure it wouldn't fall apart just out of the factory. Still, if you want to race, come back any time.> <Maybe will, maybe no be able to. But Mimic can promise keep souveneir of encounter.> Mimic morphs into a copy of the zubat, lowering his passenger to the ground as he does so. The original smirks. <Gonna keep the form until your next transformation, then?> <Mimic remember forms and skills. Mimic no know of many pokemon good with vehicles, though meet few.> <Oh, I get it. What was that line? 'Resistance is futile. Your biological and technical distinctiveness will be added to our own.'> Mimic shakes 'his' head. <No quite. Some similarities, but different where matters.> <Excuse me,> the fire pokemon interrupts, <but aren't you forgetting something?> <...right. Mimic sorry, but friend correct; need ask directions out. No track path when follow in.> <No problem, dudes!> The zubat motions to his car's back seat. <I'll drive you to a shortcut. Which way ya headed?> <To Azalea.> One leap is all the fire mouse needs to enter, not even bothering to open the door. <Sarah's probably already waiting for us there.> Mimic settles in behind the driver, but does not even get a chance to buckle up before the zubat's right foot drops as far as it can, flooring the accelerator. All Mimic can percieve, even in ultrasound, is the wind rushing by at an insanely fast pace...and then they are elsewhere. <Ok, dudes. Here's your stop.> After taking a few seconds to recover from being squished against the rear seat back, Mimic flaps up as his eyes adjust to the dim light, then to the relatively bright like of his friend's back lighting up. For some reason, the car's horn blares for a few seconds. <Umm, excuse me, but I can't take this route.> Three paws grab onto the top of the car door, while the fourth points to the water where an energetic exit leap would have taken the fire pokemon. <Give it a couple minutes, dudes. Trust me.> Ditto and cyndaquil look at each other, shrug, and exit the car, landing on the soft pink ground covering. No sooner do they exit than the car peels off, back into the darkness, barely missing the many slowpoke scattered around. Slowpoke who are just starting to look in the direction the car came from. Both pokemon blink as they realize what is about to happen. <Would believe Mimic done this before?> <Do I have time to doubt you?> <No really.> Mimic shimmers into an open toolbox. <I hope that's waterproof.> Cyndaquil jumps into box and puts out flame. Mimic shuts himself just before a mass chorus of "SLOOOOOOOW!!!" echoes throughout the cave and the herd of slowpoke, just now reacting to the strange fast noisy metal object with a zubat at its wheel, panic and dive into the water, fleeing for their lives from a threat that has already left. Rob wrote: > Sarah's hot too. Beads of sweat begin to appear all over the shepherdess' fair skin, and she > realizes that wool might not be the best fabric to be wearing in such arid conditions, so she > sighs when she remembers that she doesn't have a change of clothing because she packed her > things so hurriedly when trying to escape her boring rural life. She squints her eyes to read > a wooden sign placed on the side of the dirt path she's on, "To Azalea Town... Hey, wait, > that's where I'm gonna get my first Badge! C'mon, Barbie!" She runs towards the town, despite > the fact that it makes her sweat even more, but she takes a break at the Slowpoke Well so > that she and her Mareep can cool off. While pumping away at the Slowpoke Well's tail, trying > to get water to pour out, she wonders where Mimic and Cyndaquil are... ...but does not drift off too far to not step out of the way of the cave's mouth, dragging Barbie along, when her body feels the rumble of a stampeding herd and her eyes tell her that the nearby cave is the only place they could be coming from where she couldn't see them. Her instincts are not dissapointed when many slowpoke pour out, almost as if the Slowpoke-shaped cave mouth were vomiting the spirits that gave it its shape. She quickly scrambles to high ground above the cave mouth, reaching the top just as a toolbox bounces out of the herd and lands at her feet. TBC?