So Your Friend Owes You 50 Pokebux
So your friend owes you 50 pokebux…
He said he’d pay you back next week. And that was two weeks ago. Pokemart doesn’t sell stuff for free!
You decide enough is enough and angrily march over to his house to demand your pokeyen!
And in your haste and rage you fail to notice the pokeball truck headed straight for you. You are killed instantly. Limbs and pokeballs scatter all over the road. The carnage is horrible. Onlooking children and pokemon are scarred for life.
You may be dead but your financial woes live on. Still tied to the world by the root of all evil, your soul becomes a Gastly. And while you can’t make much use of those pokedollars in this form, that doesn’t matter. Your soul literally cannot rest until you get that money back. You make a ghostly beeline to your ex-friend’s house with the intent to terrorize him incessantly. You meet him in his front yard. He was on his way up the road to see what all the commotion was about.
He sees you and exclaims “Wow! A Gastly! I don’t have that one in my pokedex yet!”
Your former friend throws a pokeball to the ground. “Go Sentret!”
“Sentret?” You think, laughing. What a crappy pokemon. You always knew this kid had terrible taste. Plus it’s a normal type and you are a ghost. It’s a stalemate from the start.
But the joke’s on you when El Cheapo exclaims, “Sentret! Use flamethrower!”
“Flamethrower?” You think, shocked by the absurdity. Who teaches a Sentret flamethrower? What a waste of a perfectly good TM. This kid is even dumber than you thought. But this is no time for pondering the nuances of TM management. You’re about to be-
In the blink of a Decidueye you’re set ablaze. You didn’t know that ghosts could burn! You fall to the ground, writhing in pain. Being a pokemon sucks more than getting hit by a truck. At least that was quick. This however is agony like you’ve never known before.
You’re all ready to meet Arceas when the true nature of your spectral rebirth kicks in. You have a grudge. A grudge worth 50 pokebills. Your business with this world is not yet done. That last HP refuses to deplete and you’re just stuck there laying in the grass and wishing you never set out today to collect that debt.
“Alright!” The kid cries out. “Great job Sentret! Let’s catch it!”
“Catch it?” You think. Wait a minute. You never even thought of this. The only thing on your mind was your money. It’s the whole reason you revived as a Gastly in the first place. You have to get out of here!
You struggle to levitate. But you just don’t have enough energy. So you are forced to roll slowly along the grass. Very slowly. You’ve barely moved a few inches when you hear the kid sigh in disappointment.
“Aww man! I forgot my pokeballs!”
You’d laugh but you are in too much pain. At least you’ve escaped becoming the property of the cheapskate who owes you money. Everything seems swell until that kid’s annoying voice beams out once more.
“Hey look Sentret, a pokeball!”
That TM wasting tightwad spotted one by the side of the busy road that he lived downhill from. How lucky.
Within seconds you are caught, far too weak to even attempt to break free. Imprisoned within a pokeball that was ejected from the very truck that changed your life (and afterlife) forever. It was like the ultimate cosmic prank. Somebody up there must really hate you.
And to make matters so much worse, the kid who caused you all of this trouble in the first place just chucks you into the PC and forgets that you ever existed. His cousin traded him a Gengar for his flamethrowing Sentret. Thus relegating you to the loser locker for all eternity. But you have no idea about any of that. Because you will languish alone in a PC box filled with other poke-rejects until the heat death of the pokeverse. Then maybe, just maybe, Arceus will have mercy upon your tortured soul.
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