From: Jose L. Solano (jsolano199@aol.comlink)
Subject: [PW!][SC] Karp Filet! Trent the Master Chef!
Newsgroups: alt.games.nintendo.pokemon
Date: 2003-12-06 10:44:14 PST
Standing in the underground storehouse with the rock field and a dead giant
Magikarp, Trent had no choice but to stay there and guard it if he wanted to
claim the prize on the monster's head.
"That's a mighty tasty smell," one of the league workers said to him.
"Go away."
"Now, you're not gonna eat all that all by yourself, are you?"
"Of course not."
"Then how about sparing some for me? It's my lunch break, I've got a skillet
and a Charmander, I could cook it myself..."
"NO."
"Come on, it's all gonna go to waste, just a little bit..."
"NO."
"I'll pay for it."
"NO... away I could refuse such an offer!" The smiling worker released his
Charmander and set up a skillet over it. Trent took one of his swords and cut a
decent sized chunk of the Magikarp and, carrying the meat on the blade, threw
it into the skillet. "That'll be three hundred."
"Three hundred?!"
"Two hundred."
"One hundred."
"Two hundred."
"One hundred and fifty."
"Sandslash sandslash!" Ashura suggested.
"Deal!" the worker replied.
"What?! I'm the boss around here! I'm not letting that go for twenty-five
cents a pound!" Trent looked at the colossal fish. "How about a one a pound?"
"Cent?"
"NO."
"Ah. Well, good enough for me." The worker fried the chunk of fish he'd been
given, just as one of the stadium concessions managers ran in.
"There's a large shortage of food upstairs and we need that meat!" Trent
grinned and began to cut up the giant Magikarp at the set price. The sea
captain hadn't even arrived yet and he was already looking to make a fortune
off of a giant dead fish.
---------------------------------------------
Carol stood at one of the concession stands, sipping on the soda she'd
bought, waiting for the hamburger she had ordered. There was a line behind her,
and they weren't too happy with the wait.
"Come on, come on, the next match begins any minute!" the guy behind her
yelled at the kid behind the register. "What's the hold up?"
"Sir, my manager is out getting the ingredients we need. It shouldn't be
long."
"Screw this! Let's riot!" one woman wisely suggested. Carol ducked out of
the way as the crowd started piling into the stand.
"I don't think any hamburger is worth all this," she said to herself. She
tried to slink away from the scene, but the crowd pushed her in as all. Riots
didn't tend to be very well-organized. "Ack! Hey! Don't bring me into this, I
just wanted a hamburger!"
"People, people!" the stand manager yelled. "You may all settle down, the
food has arrived!" He wheeled packs of "fresh" Karp meat into the stand and
began to prepare the food. The crowd gathered back into a line, leaving a
beaten and bruised employee on the floor. "Take a break, son, I've got it
covered. Alright folks, get your hot, fresh Karpburgers! Comes with a small
soda for only four-fifty!"
Carol was first in line, so she was the first to receive these new
Karpburgers. The meat was gray and moist, but she figured that since she had
already paid for a burger, she might as well try it.
"Mmm... mmm... oh my sweet heaven... THIS IS THE BEST THING I'VE EVER HAD!
THE JOYOUS SENSATION IN MY MOUTH CAN'T BE DESCRIBE BY MERE WORDS, IF I COULD I
WOULD MARRY THIS MEAT AND HAVE ITS CHILDREN!"
"GIVE ME SEVENTEEN!" a large man yelled. "WITH SODAS!" Carol walked away
from the stand blissfully eating her delicious Karpburger. Even though she knew
where it came from, she couldn't resist it. So she had exaggerated a little,
but she hadn't actually had a good meal in a while.
---------------------------------------------
"Trent, kudos! This is a prime dish!" Carol said to him through the
earpiece.
"Shut up and leave me alone, I've got a demand to fill here!" Trent and
Ashura rushed to cut up the meat as more and more stand managers arrived,
demanding some meat. Kurt the Abra sat on a rock, counting the money.
"Ah, we've reached the two-thousand mark!"
"SHUT UP! I NEED TO CONCENTRATE! Forty pounds you said? Seventy pounds,
ma'am? You, baldy, did you say sixty or sixteen? No, fatty, the head is not for
sale! NO YOU CAN'T KEEP THAT GRAVELER YOU FOUND!"
"Trent, the first wave of vendors have sold out, they've come back for
more!"
"DAMMIT!"
Jose L. Solano
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A devious, degenerate defender of the devil