The creepy hijinks and statutory rape continues! This is probably going to be the most out of character part, mostly because we all know how much I hate Tracey. Stupid Tracey. Oh, Allison seems a bit off too...
”But what about Tracey?” asked Clay and Allison.
”I need to know how disgusted I should be,” said Allison. “Or how much more disgusted I should be…”
”Oh, just wait for it, Al,” said Clay. “With our current run of luck it’s only minutes before Todd, Bill, Damien, and the Outstanding Mandy appear and tell their side of this torrid affair…”
Allison stared at him. “Mandy?” she asked. “In this current chain of humiliation and pedophilia?”
”That was just my own personal little fantasy. It’s all I have now to keep me from clawing my eyes out.”
”Why don’t you check Tracey’s sketch pad?” Ash suggested.
Clay and Allison exchanged a glance, then lunged, both of them leaning over Tracey to grab the sketch book. “Maybe we should have put something over him,” said Allison as they climbed back.
”What are you complaining about?” asked Clay. “You’ve got a shirt on!”
They both sat on the edge of the bed and opened the sketchbook. “Nurse Joy,” said Allison, turning the page.
”Officer Jenny,” said Clay, turning the page.
”Some random chick,”
”Random chick,”
”Another Jenny,”
”Misty and…oh my god…is that Prima?” Clay asked, staring at Allison.
Allison turned the page. “Well, here’s one of Misty and your mom,” she said.
Looking even queasier than before, Clay and Allison turned the page. They both screamed and dropped the sketchbook. Brock, being the closest, picked it up. “Mmm…Cassidy and Jesse,” he said with a dreamy sigh.
”Give me that!” snapped Allison, quickly taking back the sketchbook. “Oh, ew…Professor Oak and the twerp’s mom…”
”Oh, here’s another piece of nightmare material,” said Clay as they moved on to the next drawing.
”My dad and your dad,” Allison said with a sigh and a shudder.
”Fat bastard sure does get around…”
”Not as much as our parents apparently do. Ugh…looks like a whole series of Misty and…aaaaah!” Allison screamed and flinched.
Clay looked at the sketch pad. “Ooo, looks like Jesse’s been robbing the cradle too,” he said.
Allison flipped past the Jesse/Misty series. “Uhm, Clay?”
”Uh-huh?”
”Please tell me this is just my mom with different hair and your dad as a blonde…”
”Al, that’s basically us.” He looked at the picture. “Oh, god, that is us!”
”I really wish this didn’t explain so much,” said Allison.
”I hate that damn Vaporeon,” muttered Clay. Taking the sketchbook, he hit Tracey with it. “Tracey! Wake the hell up!”
”You need to explain this damn picture!” Allison screamed at him.
Tracey sat up slowly, looking slightly disoriented. “Where…” He then noticed who was threatening him. “It really did happen…I’m not just a voyeur anymore…” He smiled happily, pure joy sparkling in his eyes.
”Explain this,” Clay said, shoving the picture into the artist’s face.
”Please tell us we didn’t model for this,” added Allison.
Tracey looked at the picture, smiling slightly. “Oh, I draw everything from life,” he said. Allison buried her face in her hands again and started sobbing.
”Al,” Clay said, sounding very dazed and confused.
”What?” Allison sniffled without looking up.
”I think I’m bisexual…”
Allison managed to get herself under control and patted him on the shoulder. “No, you’re not, Clay. You just…screw you! I’ve got bigger problems!”
”You already did…” Clay muttered in a small, sad voice.
”What the hell’s wrong with me?” She glanced back at the sketch. “I didn’t even know I had one of those…”
”You do,” Brock assured her.
”I have to be bisexual,” Clay continued. “There’s no other explanation…but I like men so much more!”
”It’ll be okay!” Ash said cheerfully.
”Oh, shut up, you little pest! Now thanks to you I’m bi and a pedophile!”
”What’s wrong with being bi?” asked Allison. “Since thanks to Fatty over there I just found out my parents are practicing bisexuals!”
”Well, so are mine, you whiney bitch! I’m not going to be able to sleep for a week!”
Just then, mostly to add to the confusion, Vaporeon entered. “Good morning, lovebirds!” she cheerfully exclaimed. She blinked as she took in the assorted beings in the room. “Is there anyone you didn’t drunkenly fuck last night?”
”I don’t know, we haven’t seen all of Tracey’s sketchbook yet,” Allison muttered.
Vaporeon hopped onto the bed. “Oh my god…” she said, wrinkling her nose. “The bondage gene is dominant!”
”No wonder I’m so sore,” added Clay. “Ever hear of a little thing called lubrication, Allison?”
”Well, I’ll be sure to remember it, Clayton, for the next time we get piss drunk and have some forced feminization fun!”
Vaporeon tilted her head. “Oh, it doesn’t look very forced to me,” she said. “See how happy Clay looks?”
”I am never drinking again,” Clay vowed.
”I knew it,” said Allison. “This is god’s way of punishing me for being a slut.”
”Get with the times, Al. God hates gays more than sluts. He’s obviously punishing me.”
”Clay, until last night the only alternative part of your lifestyle was your porn collection.”
”Dammit, Al! God hates me more!”
Vaporeon sighed. “Can’t God hate both of you?” she asked.
Clay looked at the next sketch. “Yeah, looks like it.” He turned another page. “Wait…what’s with the stick figures?”
Tracey leaned over his shoulder. “Oh, that’s from when Allison started drawing.”
”You really can’t draw, Al,” said Clay. “He’s the round blob, right?”
”Duh,” said Allison. “See? You’re the stick figure with its hair sticking straight up. And I drew your dick bigger.”
”Aww, that’s so sweet…”
”Well, if your friends won’t lie for you, who will?”
”You bitch! Come on, Jabba the Slut! We’re both naked! It’s comparison time!”
”I’m leaving,” Vaporeon announced.
”Clay, sit down,” snapped Allison. She pouted. “And I thought Jabba the Slut was my nickname…”
”I thought your nickname was Hand Jabba the Ho…”
”Other people,” Vaporeon reminded them as she left.
”Oh, right,” said Clay.
”Stop that!” Allison shouted at Tracey who was now trying to capture the way that the two Rockets were scantily clad. “You need to explain this!”
”Especially…” Clay turned back to the first incriminating evidence against his proclaimed sexuality, “this one.”
”No, explain this one,” said Allison, turning back to the pictures of Jesse and Misty. “With as few details as possible.”
”I remember that like it was just last night,” Tracey said with a nostalgic sigh. “I’d followed Misty out to Professor Oak’s pokemon ranch—“
”Wait, it was last night, wasn’t it?” asked Clay.
”They’re really hung over,” said Brock.
”You should probably talk slowly,” added Ash.
”Where’s my scepter?” asked Allison, looking under the pillows.
”I’ll be good…” Ash promised.
”Anyway, I was following Misty because I she’d been…” Tracey started to blush. “Well, I’m a pokemon watcher and I knew she had pokemon…”
So I was of course very surprised when Misty stopped in a clearing that seemed to have nothing to do with pokemon. But, since I’m a pokemon watcher, I decided I’d better stick around. In case some pokemon appeared. Then someone said, “Prepare for trouble!”
And Misty laughed and said, “You know it’s just me.”
So Jesse said, “And I know how much you like it.”
”You know what else I like,” Misty said. Then, they—
He was cut off by a high pitched scream from Allison. “Less detail!”
Ash, Brock, and Tracey stared at her. “But he hasn’t even gotten to the hot girl on girl action,” Brock whined.
”I want euphemisms,” Allison said through clenched teeth. “Cheery, banal, non-descriptive euphemisms.”
”Yeah, I’ll take some of those too,” added Clay.
As an artist, Tracey had an eye for detail. As a horny teenage male, he had a penchant for heavy voyeurism. “I’ll try,” he said. “Well, uhm…Jesse took Misty in her arms and—“
”Too much,” said Allison.
Clay rolled his eyes. “Oh, grow up, Al.”
Allison looked him in the eye and said, “Butch and Cassidy having freaky primeape sex.”
”Why do you have to be such a hyper-bitch, Al?”
”Would it make you happy if I just said I drew pictures of Jesse and Misty doing intimate things to each other?” Tracey asked.
”Not especially,” said Allison.
”No…not unless I can see the pictures,” said Brock.
”You can see them after Fatty explains this,” said Clay.
”Oh, that’s simple!” Tracey said cheerfully. “It’s—“
”We know what it is,” said Clay.
”Now we need the ‘why’ and the ‘how,’” Allison finished.
”While I was watching Jesse and Misty—all in the hopes that a pokemon might wander by,” Tracey continued.
I became captivated by the beauty of it, those two sleek forms eagerly pressing against each other, the mark of Jesse’s lipstick, starting at Misty’s neck and fading as it traveled lower—
”Too much!” snapped Allison, covering her ears.
”Sorry,” said Tracey. “Where was I? Oh, right…I became a bit distracted…and was having…uhm…some trouble balancing my sketchpad—
”Yeah, it’s hard to draw and 'sharpen your pencil' at the same time,” Clay agreed.
”Can I finish?” Tracey asked in a small plaintive voice. So I didn’t notice Clay come up behind me. Because I was still hoping that a rare pokemon might wander by, of course. Thankfully, years of being a pokemon watcher have trained me to remain calm in all situations. So when Clay clapped a hand over my mouth and started dragging me back here, I didn’t scream. Plus, I needed to finish a few details of this sketch.
After I was brought here, Allison was lying on the bed, wearing only a pink pleated skirt. I think it was leather.
”You put your dirty pillows on my bed?” Clay screamed at his partner.
”Look, that’s nothing compared to what you put on it!” Allison shouted back, pointing to Tracey.
”I guess Clay’s not bisexual anymore,” said Brock.
”I’m going to have to burn my sheets!” Clay continued. “I was going to have to anyway, but still…”
"If they can still burn," muttered Allison.
Tracey, meanwhile, was still lost in the flashback. He’d always remember how much nicer people were to him when they were drunk enough to walk into walls and apologize to the inanimate. “Then Allison sat up and said ”Draw me, Jack. Draw me like one of your French girls.” I was willing to agree because I was fairly sure that Allison had pokemon. And those pokemon would probably appear sometime in the near future. But just as I was starting to work on some of the most important shading, Clay told me he had a much better idea for something to draw. Then he took off his shirt and said—
”In a sultry falsetto, ‘Draw me, Jack. Draw me like one of your French girls,’” Allison finished.
”I thought you didn’t remember anything,” said Ash.
“It’ll be a cold day in hell before we can get plastered without Clay stripping down and asking someone to draw him,” said Allison.
“It’s usually right before we run naked through the sprinkler,” added Clay. A beat passed.
“Did we run naked through the sprinkler?” asked Clay and Allison.
Tracey nodded and held up the corresponding picture from his sketchbook. “I wish I’d been awake for that,” said Ash.
“You know, I’ve learned something today,” said Clay. “It was wrong of us to accuse Tracey of being an Oak humping little homo just because we didn’t particularly like him. Because it just inspired him to draw these lies.”
“They’re not lies!” Tracey protested.
“I thought it was because he is an Oak humping little homo,” said Allison.
“Well, I did draw Allison’s breasts a bit bigger than they really are,” Tracey said, looking at the sprinkler picture.
“You lying little fat bastard!” screamed Allison. “If anything, you drew them too small!”
Brock and Ash looked at the picture, then at Allison. “It looks about right,” said Brock. Ash nodded.
“Look, it’s time we stopped using sexuality as an insult, dammit!” Clay continued, deciding to ignore this exchange. “I mean, I’m so queer I spit rainbows, and everyone loves me!” Allison, Ash, and Brock exchanged a glance. “Will you at least admit that I’m sexier than Tracey?”
Allison, Ash, and Brock looked from Clay to Tracey, then back at Clay. “He does have nice hair,” said Allison.
“And nice eyes,” added Brock.
“Nice normal hair,” Allison continued. “You can probably run your fingers through it without worrying about getting stuck…”
“I hate you so much, Allison,” said Clay. “I hope you’re pregnant with a eyeless Brock baby!”
“Up yours, Tracey-fucker!” snapped Allison.
“I’m not eyeless,” Brock whimpered.
“You fucked Tracey!” Clay replied.
"I have six words for you, Clay," said Allison.
"And they are?"
Ash, Brock, and Tracey looked nervously around as the appropriate background music started playing, despite the fact there were no speakers in the room and it seemed painfully spontaneous. Somehow. "Shut your fucking face, Tracey fucker! You're--"
“Does this mean you don’t need to know what happened last night?” asked Tracey, mostly because no one should have to face a duet of the bastardized "Uncle Fucker." Especially if one was the subject of the bastardization...
Clay and Allison looked at each and sighed. “Keep talking,” they said dejectedly.
Tracey turned the page. "I think it's fairly self-explanatory," he said. "I mean, a picture is worth a thousand words..." He received two death glares. "But words are good too...after you ran...naked through the sprinkler, you came back inside...still naked, droplets of water glistening on your bodies...and Clay said, "Allison, I have a theory. If you were a man, I bet you would have a really big penis."
Then Allison pulled a bottle of grape pucker out of no where...which was kind of frightening since she was naked--
"Not the grape pucker," said Clay with a sigh.
"We were saving that for when we'd remember it," added Allison.
"Al, have you noticed how fixated on the naked thing he is?" asked Clay.
"I wish I'd been able to draw it," Tracey added, mostly to himself.
"Tracey, stop being such a scrummy little perv and keep telling us why...this happened," snapped Allison.
"Isn't scrummy supposed to be a good thing?" asked Clay.
"Clay, listen to it. Scrummy. It's like skanky and crummy's bastard child."
"It was very...educational," said Tracey, looking down at the picture.
"I've seen what you look at online," said Brock.
"I really thought I was joking when I said that thing about your vibrator, Al," said Clay, staring at the picture in numb shock.
"You might have been," Allison replied. "Because that is a strap-on."
"A what?" asked Ash.
"No offense, Al, but you really have more members of the dildo family lying around than any straight girl should." Clay thought for a moment. "Too bad Misty was off having sex with your mom..."
Allison glared at him. "Too bad your parents have really loud sex every seven hours. Although I never quite understood why since your mom's a lesbian..."
"One of the great mysteries of life, I suppose," said Clay.
"Next page," Allison said to Tracey.
"That one's already done all the emotional damage it's going to do," added Clay.
The next page featured a stick figure and a circle on top of an oval.
"Allison, this is why you're my best friend," said Clay. "You tell it like it is."
"Clay, if that picture was accurate, you wouldn't be able to stand up. Ever."
"Shows how much you know," Clay muttered, starting to pout.
"And since you're naked and happy to see someone, we can all see how inaccurate it is..."
"Where'd my pillow go? And it's...uhm...cold in here?"
"That only works for nipples, Clay."
"I'm...special..."
"I can't argue with that," Allison muttered. She looked at the picture. "Wow, Tracey, I can't believe you managed to fit most of it into your mouth..." Tracey flipped to the next page. "Damn, Clay, one of us was really drunk..."
Clay looked. "Holy...I think it was you, Al..."
Tracey shook his head. "That's basically what happened," he said.
"How?" asked Clay.
"He hasn't been a top since...at least, I don't think he's been..." Allison wondered aloud.
"Al, come on. Have I ever expressed interest in anything other than older men?" He glared at Ash, Brock, and Tracey before they could say anything. "While sober."
"You know what's a better question?" said Allison. "How the hell you managed to keep it up with that much alcohol..."
Tracey was once again lost in times gone by. "It was amazing," he said with a sigh. "Even better than just watching...and the waiting...I felt like I was on my hands and knees for forever. Then Clay pulled off my headband and told me he'd teach me everything I needed to know...but only if I drew him like one of my French girls. I still didn't know what he was talking about, but I agreed anyway.
Then Allison volunteered to draw us as a souvenier. Clay told her to try to get his good side. Allison said that no matter what side she drew, you could still see his hair.
That was about when Clay started crying about how no one loved him, how he'd never been able to live up to his parents' expectations...and I think he said to Allison that she was the best thing that had ever happened to him because he could finally tell his parents he'd slept with a girl. And Allison started crying and said that Clay was the best thing that ever happened to her because he was practically a lesbian so she wasn't the only semi-normal one in her family. Then you finished off the grape Pucker. I don't think I've ever seen anyone drink that out of big plastic cups before...
"Yeah, if you've got a spare liver, we'd really appreciate it," said Clay.
"I'll take a B positive one, please," added Allison.
"Then once you guys finished crying," Tracey began.
"Wait...you were naked and on your hands and knees the whole time?" asked Brock.
"Allison announced that it had been a 'delightfully cathartic' experience," Tracey continued, deciding to ignore Brock's question. "Clay announced that he was horny again...and that since I'd been waiting so patiently, he'd put my...uhm...'plump, juicy ass' to work.
Allison sighed. "Well, Clay, now that we know your thoughts on everyone else's ass, how would you describe mine?" she asked.
"Womanly," Clay replied. "In the bad way."
"It hurt a bit at first," Tracey said, "but as you can see from this drawing--well, barely. I can't believe you wasted perfectly good paper, Allison."
"Shut up, Fatty," Allison replied.
Anyway, it was almost everything I hoped for. Clay didn't even mind when I...said someone else's name. Of course, he kept calling me James...I didn't really mind though.
"Whose name did you say?" asked Ash.
"How could I confuse sexy, sexy Jamie-pie with fat, fat chunk-boy?" Clay asked.
"Well, you and your color distinction problem," Allison said sweetly.
"None of your business, Ash," said Tracey.
"And ew! I look nothing like Professor Oak!" whined Clay. "Although, I bet he could teach me so much about...uh...pokemon."
Tracey put his hand on Clay's knee. "I feel the same way," he said, looking deeply into the other boy's eyes. He then continued his blissful reverie. "Finally, for the first time since I left home, I'd found love..."
"Love nothing," snapped Allison. "Who told you little retards that you have to be in love to have sex?"
"My guess would be their parents, Al," said Clay, brushing Tracey's hand away.
"God, I'll never forget the day I proved mine wrong.."
"Too bad you can't gloat."
"Oh, shut up, Clay, or I'll tell yours it's not a phase."
"You bitch!"
Oblivious to this, Tracey sighed like a talentless actress crammed into the role of Juliet. "I let Clay have his way with me four times. Then, he staggered to his feet, looked down at me and said--"
Something registered with Allison. "Four times?" she asked. "While utterly plastered?"
"I've never had my way with anyone before," Clay said, sighing happily.
"It was Tracey," Allison reminded him.
"I said, I've never had my way with anyone before. Don't ruin it with the truth."
"Four times," Allison repeated, staring at both men in shock. "Four times..."
"Oh, Al, you act like I've never had sex four consecutive times with anyone," Clay said.
Allison laughed. "Clay, from the details of your love life, I doubt you've ever managed to have sex with the same person four ti--"
"I said, you--"
"He looked at me and said, 'Let's do something kinky,'" Tracey continued. "He left the room, saying he was heading to the kitchen. After what I've seen...from, uh, watching pokemon...I thought he was going to bring back chocolate syrup or whipped cream. I was a bit surprised when he brought back a bottle of ketchup.
Allison burst out laughing. Ash smiled shyly at the group. "Pikachu likes ketchup," he said. "One time I was eating a hamburger and some ketchup got on my jeans, so Pikachu jumped up on my leg and started licking it off."
Everyone naturally stared at him. "Uhm, Ash?" asked Brock. "Where exactly did you spill ketchup?"
Ash blushed and pointed to his crotch, generating a group shudder. "You are one fucked up little kid," said Allison.
"So don't blame us when you need therapy," said Clay.
"Seriously. You were molested by a pikachu months before we did anything to you."
"I've never licked ketchup off anyone before," Tracey went on with a slight grimace. "Hopefully, I'll never have to again."
"Didn't anyone ever teach you little retards how to say no?" asked Allison.
"Al, 'no' is not in the vocabulary of a preteen or teenaged boy. At least not when it comes to sex," Clay explained. "If your dad told me to lick rancid motor oil off his feet, I'd do it." Clay smiled. "Mmm...rancid motor oil..."
Allison looked down. "Is it cold in here again?"
"Where's my crotch pillow?" asked Clay. "And I told you not to look at me!" He smiled sweetly at her. "It's almost like that day when we spent seven hours on your hair and--" Allison hit him in the head with his own crotch pillow.
"I'd lick rancid motor oil off Professor Oak's feet," Tracey said with a dazed smile. "But while I was licking ketchup off Clay's...uhm...anatomy, Allison announced that we were 'boring the hell out of her' and left. She came back an hour later looking smug." Tracey looked at Allison. "Well, smugger than usual."
"Who cares about her?" snapped Clay. "How many other condiments did we go through?"
Tracey turned an interesting greenish color. "Just Grey Poupon. Please don't make me talk about that..."
"No, why don't we talk about Allison?" Allison suggested.
"And how she's dragged her family name through the mud," added Clay. "Not that it was that good a name to begin with..."
"Clay, I'm going to beat you like a redheaded stepchild."
Tracey shrugged. "I don't really know what happened..." He looked at Clay. "Shortly after she came back, you staggered over here and passed out."
"And you weren't considerate enough to put some damn clothes on?" snapped Clay.
The artist looked at the floor. "You dragged me here with you...and passed out on top of me. I couldn't move for a few hours..."
"So there's someone else involved in this torrid little affair and none of you knows anything about it?" asked Allison. Brock, Tracey, and Ash all shook their heads. "You're all worthless. Get out!"
Ash and Tracey quickly gathered up their clothes and slunk out. Brock hung in the doorway, watching Allison. "Uhm...Mistress Al?"
"What?" Allison snapped.
"Can I have my shirt back?" Allison threw it at him, then folded her arms across her bare chest.
"Maybe everyone will forget about it," said Clay once the two Rockets were alone.
Allison nodded. "Hell, tomorrow they probably won't even remember it."
"Right." They looked at each other and sighed. "So, what do you want to do tomorrow night?"
His partner shrugged. "How about pot? I mean, we're out of alcohol..."
"Sounds good to me."
"We can ask Vaporeon to keep us indoors."
"Good call." Clay stood up. "I need clothes..."
Allison nodded, shifting slightly. "I'm probably just going to go back to bed," she admitted.