From: "STEFFAN HEDD ALUN" <sha3@aber.ac.uk> Subject: [PW!] The Whisper of a Whismur with a Little Brittle Brain Date: Sunday, January 18, 2004 10:38 PM "When you're walking, maybe talking, through the deep, dense, dusty trees And a sound is on the groun that sounds almost like a breeze And if you fear that you hear that old breathful breeze again It's the whisper of a Whismur with a little brittle brain." -- traditional playground rhyme "And so we come to the last of our great attractions," announced the conductor of Pugh Pewter Tours. "The wonderful Pewter City museum. You will now be dropped off..." "Shut up!" cried someone in the back of the bus. "...and then you will be free to spend two hours here until..." "I'm hungry!" "...until the bus returns to pick you up. The bus will be back at two-fifteen, and will be taking you..." "I hate museums!" "...back to your school, departing at two-thirty. Thanks for your..." "Old stuff is boring!" "...attention." The conductor sat down, out of breath, and closed his eyes. He couldn't bear to look at the kids as they departed. He opened his eyes again and saw his own reflection in the window. He'd become a stranger to himself. He'd been offered the job completely out of the blue, and he certainly wasn't qualified for it. The only reason he was in the job was because the pay was absolutely unbelievable. He'd loved his old job, but had handed in his notice the moment he'd heard of the amount of money available in bus tours. He hated his new job. He wanted his old job back. His old life. But he needed that money more than anything in the world. He needed it to pay for a vital operation for his daughter. PokéWars!: Mike Smith "The Whisper of a Whismur with a Little Brittle Brain" Steffan Alun Once all the children had left the bus, the driver got up and followed them. Mike had to stay to take care of the bus. This didn't bother him. Indeed, it was the easiest part of his job. No distractions. He pulled out his notebook and began to scribble furiously. His latest attempt at raising money was writing a novel. He continued from where he'd left off. "Mark hopped into a taxi. He told the taxi driver to follow the car ahead. The taxi driver followed the car ahead. This continued for a good fifteen minutes until the car that Mr Halliwell had stolen crashed into a man. The man who was a Ditto transformed into a Charizard. The Ditto who was a Charizard faced Mr Halliwell to see that he was running away and the Ditto who was a Charizard was almost going to follow Mr Halliwell but Mark was now in his own car which Mr Halliwell had stolen." Mike stopped writing. He was beginning to regret making Mark an author avatar. It certainly limited his plot. He couldn't think of a name for the Ditto, either. Mike stood up and stretched. He looked out of the window. The Pewter Museum. He'd never been inside, despite travelling there and back every day. His job was to take care of the bus, and for the money he earned, he made sure to guard it well. Nobody would be allowed onto- "Freeze!" came a shout. Mike's face fell as he raised his arms and turned slowly around. Right. A gun. Problem one. He raised his hands further up, hoping that this would better convey the message he was trying to send. More than one, eh? Problem two. He looked past the gun-toter nearest to him and examined the evidence. Oh dear. Officer Jenny. A herd of Growlithes. The driver in handcuffs. An arsenal of weapons. Problems three through six. "Michael Smith, you are under arrest on suspicion of aiding in the smuggling of illegal substances." "What the-" Mike was stunned. He was stunned beyond the ordinary level of shock and awe. He was beyond words as mild as "surprised" or "taken aback". He was shocked to the extent of actually finding the situation quite funny. "Whis," came a voice from somewhere. The police officers quickly looked around, keeping one eye on Mike at all times. "What illegal substances?" asked Mike. "If you don't know, you have nothing to worry about," said Jenny, calm but harsh. "If you'll please come with..." "Murrrr?" Jenny turned around. "Was that the wind?" she asked. Remembering herself, she turned back to Mike. "Michael Smith, you are under arrest on..." "You did that bit already," said Mike, but Jenny was unphased. "...of illegal substances. You do not have to..." "Whismur!" "...anything but- what WAS that?" Mike smiled. He was used to his surrogate Whismur's constant noises, but the species was virtually unheard of in Kanto. "But anything you DO say," continued Jenny, "may be used as evidence against you." "Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeess!" Whismur, a pink Pokémon with different-coloured eyes, suddenly jumped up and grabbed Officer Jenny's hair. All the guns in the vicinity were suddenly aimed squarely at Whismur. "What the-" Jenny looked behind her, spinning the Whismur - still clutching to her hair - to the side. "Don't point those at me! Make safe!" A series of safety catches were put into place. Mike was suddenly struck by a thought. Here he was, faced by a dozen or so police officers. The nearest one was being attacked by a Whismur which conveniently belonged to someone else. All weapons were useless for the time being. For the first time, Mike decided to do something rash. He closed his eyes and fell into the driver's seat. "Officer Jenny! The suspect's collapsed!" As Mike slid further towards the ground, he grabbed hold of a PokéBall. "Whis! WHIS! Murr!" Mike released the Pokémon from its ball. It was his daughter's Smoochum. "Go on, Smoochum," whispered Mike. "Kiss the lot of 'em." And so, with a dozen representatives of the Pewter police force watching, Officer Jenny was suddenly kissed by a small blonde Pokémon. "Argh!" she yelled. "What the- Where am I? Why is there no floor here?" "Floor?" said one of the supporting officers. "There's floor right...argh, those lips are free...duders, why are you so stoopid." "Are you alright? Why are...pwetty colours!!" Suddenly, and without warning, Mike jumped to his feet and rushed off the bus. Seeing this, Whismur and Smoochum chased after him. He kept going until he was long out of sight, and by the time the police force had recovered from their states of extreme confusion, Mike was hiding in the discomfort of Mount Moon. TBC?