From: "Steffan Alun"
Subject: [PW!] The Selling of the Trunk
Date: Saturday, January 10, 2004 12:51 PM
Karl sat by the fire, warming himself after the long journey home.
Nomak, his pet Farfetch'd, was fencing thin air with his leek.
Occasionally, he'd pretend to be hit, and would put on an extremely
melodramatic demise before "resurrecting" and winning the match. Nomak
could be very childish at times.
Karl's father walked into the room with a bowl in his hands.
"I brought you some soup, lad," he said. "That'll warm you up.
"Thanks, dad," said Karl, rubbing his hands in the warm glow of the
fireplace. "This fire's wonderful."
"You can thank my new Pokémon for that!" grinned Mr Weiser. The glee in his
voice spoke volumes; he'd been dying to tell his son about this.
"You got a new Pokémon?"
"Here he is!" Mr Weiser stepped aside to reveal a Vulpix.
"Vulp!" exclaimed the fox Pokémon. Much to Karl's surprise, she jumped onto
him and began licking his fingers. Her tounge was warm.
"She's very friendly," laughed Mr Weiser.
"Where'd you get her?" asked Karl, laughing as the Vulpix licked his
knuckles.
"A trader from Hoenn," replied Mr Weiser.
"You traded her?" Karl was genuinely surprised. "What for?"
"Remember the old trunk I used to keep my clothes in? Turns out it's an
antique. He actually paid me a fair bit of money for it, and threw in
Vulpix to sweeten the deal. I mean, I didn't need the old thing. And he
seemed honest enough."
Mr Weiser became very aware that his son's face was falling as he spoke. In
fact, his expression was slowly changing into one of horror.
"You didn't...want to keep te trunk, did you?" he asked. "I mean, it was
only an old box, really."
"It had a false bottom," whispered Karl eventually. "It's where I kept all
my old attack notebooks. All the information I gathered about Pokémon moves
and skills was contained in that old trunk."
Mr Weiser impersonated an embarassed man with some degree of success.
"I'm so sorry, Karl. I've got the dealer's address here, though, if you
want to get hold of him."
Mr Weiser retrieved a piece of paper from the kitchen and handed it to his
son.
"Well," said Karl, breathing in deeply, "I suppose I'm GOING TO HOENN!"
TBC?
"Wait!" said Mr Weiser. "I have his phone number too! I can just ask him
to post the notes back."
"Weisers don't do things in half measures, dad!" smiled Karl. I'm GOING TO
HOENN!"
TBC?
--
Steffan
http://iceduck.pkmn.co.uk
Go there now. No, NOW.