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Published: 2017-01-02 06:27:44 +0000 UTC; Views: 1097; Favourites: 0; Downloads: 0
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The Lucario named Cain watched in absolute boredom from the back of the class. The teacher, an Alakazam, was doing a rather poor job in teaching conics on the whiteboard, especially so because of his IQ of 5,000. The rest of the class were equally bored, and so took out their boredom out by non-creative measures like passing notes, shooting spitballs, and dropping their Five-Star Notebooks on the floor at the same time, all of which the poor teacher was oblivious to. All of them were equally pleased to spend the time in this way, except for the victims of the spitballs and the notebook-droppers, who realized quite quickly that notebooks hitting the ground don’t make the same satisfying wham as textbooks.And Cain? Since he was an emo Lucario with no friends with an edgy name (though not quite as edgy as Super Shadow Dusk Blade Dragon With Blazing Holy Light Of Heaven With Extra Nopesauce), he just put his head on his desk and tried to block out the general cacophony of the room. Maybe this story would be more interesting if one of the spitball victims used Explosion, but no such thing happened. At the bell, Cain left room, only gathering rage from the absolute waste of time and the poor fourth wall break attempted by the terrible author.
And unfortunately, this only seemed to continue throughout the day. Chemistry ended up dismissed early because the Dragonite with the IQ of Brandon Chan’s nonexistent left shoe thought it was an excellent idea to mix all of the chemicals that said, “DANGER: HIGHLY REACTIVE!” Needless to say, the classroom was totaled. And the Dragonite didn’t realize he dun goofed until half an hour later, when the chemical burn started.
English was a joke. The teacher (a Magnezone) somehow gotten on an electro-high by overcharging himself (or herself?) and basically he (or she?) started to twitch during his (her?) levitation, repeating random quotes from the texts of Dostoevsky and Hemingway. A rather (not) funny Vulpix recorded the whole thing and emailed the whole video to all residents of the base, anonymously via a tech-savvy Porygon 2.
The teacher didn’t even show up for Gym, and a majority of the students hid under the bleachers and did who-knows-what, and along with plenty of noises that suggested such. The rest played a rather sad game of dodgeball, with only three people on either side. Cain himself wasn’t on either side, instead choose to play Overwatch on his high-tech laptop he carried everywhere.
Nearly 90% of the transformees enrolled in Cain’s Battle Class didn’t show up. They were still probably at it under the very same bleachers. The Medicham responsible for the class looked progressively disheartened as the minutes passed by after the bell, and simply dismissed class early.
This gave Cain plenty of time to get to lunch early, and was in the middle of enjoying his seconds when the bell rung to signal the beginning of lunch. He always enjoyed getting to lunch extra early to watch all of the people get in line for food. It never failed to amuse Cain watching the teleporters and co. appear at the same second, often on top of each other. And followed by the fliers, who often flew too high and whammed above the door, causing a chain reaction of squawks, feathers, and expletives. And the rest of the scum who always complained about the line too long, which were the rest of them. Cain left before the stampeders (Rhyhorns, Snorlaxes, etc.) arrived.
However, this mayhem only continued class after class. On this day (and most other days) this always happened, and it never failed that someone would inevitably ruin class, whether it be a bad teacher or a stupid student.
Pokéuman History was always the last class for most of the base inhabitants. Why? Because any potato (no offense to the Grass-types) could repeat the same boring-ass summary of the Dance Between Mew and Mr. X, and then proceed to make all of these vague connections between (in)famous people and their true identity, was, in fact, a Pokéuman.
(Did you know that Adolf Hitler’s a Pokéuman? He’s actually a Trubbish!
I thought he was a Dunsparce?
Who the hell said that? They’re probably wrong and stupid and dumb!
The Headmistress. She said so last class.
Umm… Uhh…)
Because of the wide variety of staff and admin who would teach Pokéuman history, a betting pool was established on the actual job (janitor, cook, POW) of the teacher who would teach the next class. Bonus if you got their name too. Some more for their species. And another for the lulz their middle name.
There was a general trend that the class was the most relaxed. The admin actually wanted it to be the most important and deemed it the only class to earn disciplinary consequences, but then a Metagross (bribed by a Sableye) threw a fit, and so the classes became extra-lax, so much so that it cured constipation. Here’s the graph:
Yeah. Fun times.
Cain dragged his feet over to the class of doom. His laptop mysteriously lost all of its charge and he was gonna die without the distraction. But he couldn’t ditch. That much his parents managed to instill in him before he had transformed.
But he could already tell that this class would be different. Much different.
While the teacher was not at his/her desk, the classroom exuded a different atmosphere. Even the most unruly students, passing the threshold of the door, became silent. Also, no one was absent or tardy. That was rare.
The door opened, revealing a man with a humanizing ring. The respect for him increased sevenfold from the entire class, except for the select few who guessed a female teacher, who passed money to the victorious.
The teacher saw this, for sure. One such transaction had stopped, both parties realizing this, and froze. There was a pregnant silence as the teacher watched, not without malice, but not friendliness either. The silence continued until he sighed and said, “Just give him the money. We can’t waste another second of valuable time.” This was done.
The teacher then stood up from behind the desk, and then after a considerable pause, asked the class, “Where do you see yourself in when you graduate?”
There was considerable chatter, but quickly faded away as the teacher still stood, waiting for an answer. Since there was none, the teacher pointed at a Zoroark, one well known throughout the base as a prankster and asshole, to all. He’d had his graduation delayed by several years already, and didn’t seek to change it.
The Zoroark said, “I see myself as a legendary pimp, surrounded by twenty blonde chicks at all times, with at least sixty luxury cars, as well as four mansions for each of the seasons.”
Titter arose from the class, but the man’s expression did not change. The Zoroark quickly found to have a sinking feeling in his stomach, one that said regret. The man made eye contact, and the Zoroark quickly found that the man’s mental strength was unmatched, and felt that the Zoroark’s entire life was exposed, and the man had seen all of it. Yet he didn’t make any sign of it, and moved on to the next person, the school mega-nerd.
He nervously adjusted his glasses on his Espeon face, and replied in a somewhat shaky voice that he wished to become Headmaster soon, a response that got many jabs and laughs. But when this response had also elicited no response from the impassive teacher, the rest of the students realized that he/she would also be put on the spotlight, and started to formulate their own answers, and listened to each one for ideas.
Several of the responses were shocking, even to the emo Cain. The base slut (Ninetales) said she hoped to move out of the base, and restart her life without labels from her one and only mistake in the base, and settle for an ordinary life in a village where she wouldn’t be looked down with distain.
The troublemaker of legend (the same Sableye) said he wished that he didn’t have to keep getting in trouble, but he felt that he needed to receive the same respect he’s gotten since the beginning since his arrival in base, because he never had any popularity beforehand. He’d wanted to become an engineer beforehand, and didn’t know if it was still possible.
Other responses were sobering. The base’s paralytic (Machop) wanted to become a therapist ever since he’s been pushed around after her accident, and wanted to use her horrible experience to help others through the same pain.
The person no one wanted to associate with (male Lopunny) wanted to defeat the Elite Four in order to gain a humanizing ring in order to be rid of his hateful transformation to go back and see his girlfriend, just one more time, who’s been with his clone and married, just one last time.
So on and so forth. Eventually the teacher finished with everyone, and went back to the Zoroark he started with. This time, the Zoroark gave a real answer.
He said he wanted to devote all his time and energy to bring release his parents, who were being locked up in the base because they had gotten captured and brainwashed by PKE to save him.
Then the bell rang, and the man instantly disappeared.
Legend speaks of a being, who every decade, appears and heals the spirits of all those who are lost, blind, and crippled in the base. No one knows exactly this being is. Sometimes, he is male, other times female. His appearance and ethnic background varies with all affected with him.
None of this really matters, because the idea is the same with everyone across the globe. The spirit of Christmas is eternal, after all.
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Comments: 4
space-time-parallel In reply to Catequin [2017-01-24 07:14:34 +0000 UTC]
Espcially edgey edges. Those are the best edges.
👍: 0 ⏩: 0
IndiscriminatelyJust [2017-01-02 15:22:06 +0000 UTC]
A sarcastic look at the entire concept of pokeumans. Well done.
You wrote this for , by the way.
👍: 0 ⏩: 0