2.B.A. Master… bater | Chapter 4: Passage to Pewter

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Authors’ Note: 2.B.A. Master… bater is a work of parody. The AniMessenger asks all haters to refill their haterades elsewhere.

 

2.B.A. Master… bater

Chapter Four: Passage to Pewter

A new day dawned and the trio marched ahead—ragged, weary, and more than ready to escape the accursed forest. The forest of lust and repression. The forest of failure.

“Well, Ash,” Misty started, “we’ve been busting our butts out here for three days and you haven’t caught a single Pokemon.”

“I could’ve if I wanted to!” Ash fired back. “I just got—” He cleared his throat. “A little distracted.”

Misty turned away to hide her reddening cheeks. The shadow of the lake incident hadn’t fully passed. The journey, since then, seemed less like an adventure and more like a chore. Hours of hiking in the humid, boggy air, and not much in the way of conversation besides Brock’s attempts at small talk.

“Hey,” Brock began, “you guys heard of this new Pokemon exercise? It’s called the ‘full body tense.’ You literally just tell your Pokemon to flex every muscle in their body and hold it for five minutes straight. Apparently, just doing it once raises their defense stat by a whole point!”

“Wow,” Misty droned. “That’s fascinating, Brock.”

“Yeah, I know! There’s also an exercise for their special stat. Just have them bend down, touch their toes, and then—”

“Just stop,” she commanded.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Ash had hardly said a word since the lake incident and the Team Rocket debacle. Instead, his mind swirled with globular imagery. A pulsating barrage of mental snapshots tweaked his libido. Gilded memories of each part of Misty’s body percolated in his brain. He couldn’t stop leering at her. When she caught him, she responded with a glare of her own. Ash knew he had to tread lightly around her now. Even the smallest transgression could land him in a world of pain.

“Brock,” Misty said, breaking the long silence. “How much longer ‘til Pewter City?”

“It’s just over the ridge, actually!”

“Are you serious?” Ash scuffled ahead of the pack, Pikachu at his heels. “That means I can challenge my first gym leader today!”

“You have a Pikachu,” Misty scoffed. “And that’s it. One low-level electric type against a mob of experienced rock and ground types.”

“Piii,” the electric rat whimpered, shrinking behind Ash’s leg.

“Misty’s right, Ash. That’s my family gym, so trust me when I say they won’t go easy on you. You’d probably be better off fishing in some of the ponds outside the city. One solid water Pokemon should carry you through the entire challenge. Misty, you could teach him how to—”

“No!” She erupted. “I mean, not right now. This girl is hungry and tired. And, no offense Brock, I’m getting a little sick of your homemade rice balls.”

“Hey, I like Brock’s balls!” Ash interjected.

“Thank you, Ash!”

“You’re welcome,” he said slowly, realizing the awkwardness.

“Alrighty then,” Misty said. “Food and water it is. We’re not gonna get to the PokeMart any faster by standing around.”

The three cleared the ridge and the wall of trees thinned out. They stepped onto a gravel path, surrounded by a rock-strewn wasteland. Stray boulders grew from the earth, separated by dust and dirt. The outlines of buildings dotted the horizon. In the center of the looming metropolis, a domed structure took center stage. A monstrosity held together by massive square stones.

“There it is,” Ash breathed. “The Pewter City Gym.”

“They really take the whole ‘rock’ theme seriously around here, huh?”

“Isn’t it gorgeous?” Brock beamed. “There’s a Pokemon Museum, the Kanto Pokemon League has an Academy here, there’s the Gym, obviously, and the PokeCenter, but also a—”

Ash tuned him out. As they neared the city gates, the path filled with people. And not just people—babes. Ash hadn’t seen many females in his life—only a handful of matronly types from Pallet. And then there was Misty, of course. But he considered every specimen that passed by a premium piece of eye candy. They all wore clothes that left nothing to the imagination. Low-cut shirts that exposed the bobbling Jigglypuffs inside. Skirts so short they barely cleared the tops of the cornucopia of buttocks vying for his attention. And if they didn’t wear skirts, they wore stretchy pants so tight they constituted little less than body paint in Ash’s eyes.

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“Holy Ho-oh,” he mumbled.

“What was that?” Misty snapped. Her eyes bulged as they trailed from his face to his crotch. “Ash Ketchum! What is that?”

The fledgling trainer gasped as his Poke-Flute lengthened under his jeans.

“N-n-nothing,” he squeaked, adjusting himself. “You know what? I’m gonna run ahead to the PokeCenter. I gotta pee like a Rapidash!”

The boy and his mouse sprinted ahead, leaving Misty’s scornful eyes and clenching fists behind. He hustled forward, his boner-blood scattering to the less precarious parts of his body with each stride. He barreled through the Center’s glass doors, almost clipping their edges as they slid away. He gasped a few shallow breaths into his lungs and collapsed onto a bench.

“Sir,” a high-pitched voice said. “Sir, are you alright? Do you need assistance?”

The lovely Nurse Joy. The Princess of Pokemon and the frequent star in many of his sordid dreams. He flopped to his side, still heaving, and stared at her, in awe of the perfect symmetry her curls achieved.

“I’m fine,” he panted. “But could you take care of my Pikachu?”

“Certainly.” She winked. Pikachu cavorted onto the reception counter and sprung up into the protective fissure between her bosoms. “Please rest here for a few moments. This won’t take long.”

“Thanks.”

Ash watched as she turned around and walked past a set of doors to the back room.

“Nope,” he thought. “No good. I can’t see anything underneath her poofy dress.”

Something panged the Pallet kid’s heart.

Why must I always think about sex? I wish I could make myself stop. Make the lust go away. It’s like I can’t concentrate on anything else anymore. Just tits, tits, tits! Ass, ass, ass! At this rate, I’ll never be a Pokemon Master. I’m barely even a Pokemon trainer!

Ash groaned and sat himself up. He stared at the posters smothering the four walls. Mostly Pokemon League propaganda. Register today! Collect all eight badges! Become a master!

The pandering worked.

He felt the passion bubbling up again. That childhood longing to leave his boring hometown behind and quest into the world of monsters. Taming them. Becoming the best there ever was.

Then he saw it.

The poster that could save him from the Muk.

In bold, white letters it read, “Pewter City Beauty Contest! Win Your Very Own Squirtle!”

He steeled himself to a new task. Somehow, someway, Ash would convince Misty to enter the contest and win him that Squirtle.

Then he would crush the Pewter City Gym Leader.

continued4

And, please remember:

~ Don’t Shoot the Messenger
All screenshots and promotional images are the property of The Pokemon Company, Nintendo, Game Freak, OLM, and KOCH Records. The AniMessenger does not claim ownership of any aforementioned intellectual properties.
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