The Legend of Gentooers: The Fourth War

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Goal Pokemon: Mareep
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Sorry for breaking the fourth wall and the silly jokes

The Legend of Gentooers​

The Fourth War​

“...and as the end of the Fourth War draws near, so too does an era of financial desperation. Coming up next on Johto News, sixteen year-old Amy Witheron of Olivine City and her family express their fear for the extinction of another Pokemon species, right after this short break.”

Despite the events of the last seven years, I’d grown impatient of the constant coverage of the Fourth War on the news. The Tohjo Army had the upper hand over Unova, but both sides of the fight were beginning to fail. I don’t think anyone really remembers why the war started in the first place. Perhaps it was because the Pokemon who inhabit Unova are disgusting to look at when compared to Johto Pokemon.

The television illuminated the whole room, but it was only a dim light. I bit into another chip as the advertisements rolled on. Finally, the news returned. The anchor lady smiled at the camera, though it was poorly feigned.

“Now, reports of Pokemon extinction occurring throughout both Kanto and Johto. Amy Witheron of Olivine City expresses concern about the constant slaughter of Slowpoke, Mareep and Miltank as a result of the Fourth War. We speak with her live from in front of the abandoned MooMoo Farm, Amy, exactly how serious is this?”

The television displaced Amy’s face, standing outside the farm that her family used to run. There was that short, awkward silence between the anchor’s question and Amy’s answer.

“Quite serious, Katrina, as over the past seven years, sightings of Mareep in the wild have dropped from common to a rare occurrence. The Mareep simply cannot breed fast enough for the demand.”

“Right, and what about trainers being suspended of their Pokemon for the demand?”

“The suspension of Pokemon from their trainers was considered illegal, immoral and unthinkable until recent years, and should still be today. The fact that some trainers will never see their partner again is disgusting.”

“But with the Fourth War ending, do you think the Mareep Species may see the end of the war?”

“Perhaps with careful planning, it could be done, however, if this war were to carry out for even another three months, the population of Mareep would be scarce.”

“Have any plans been made to prevent the extinction of Mareep?”

“Yes, we have a detailed plan that would involve the hunting of species such as Purrloin, Woobat and Tympole, species that actually deserve to be extinct, to feed the Tohjo Army and keep Mareep alive for years to come.”

I smirked.

“...Okay, thanks for being with us, Amy.”

“Thank you.”

“Next on Johto News, thousands gather in Pallet Town to pay respect to Ash Ketchum, who recently died in the shooting in Route 1,000,003...”

My mobile phone buzzed in my pocket, I slipped my hand into my pocket to answer.

“Hello?”

“Hey, did you see it?” Amy asked.

“Yeah, I saw it. Nice jab at the Unova Pokemon, by the way,” I replied.

“I wouldn’t even call them Pokemon,” she said, “everyone knows anything beyond Generation Two isn’t actually Pokemon.”

“I thought it was Generation One?”

“That’s only close-minded genwunners. Anyway, Eric, I kind of need your help with something.”

“Yeah?”

“You don’t have a Pokemon License, do you?”

“No.” I failed the test four times before giving up, but I told my mates that I hadn’t bothered to try.

“Well you know how we have that little paddock of Mareep out back?”

“Near the shed where you had that party, right?”

“Mmhm, well they’re coming for another batch of them, and this time they’re taking Marat…”

“And you want me to take care of him?” I interrupted.

“Well, yeah. Could you swing by tomorrow morning? I’ll have him all ready for you.”

“Of course, what time?”

“Is ten good?”

“Sure.”

“Thanks a heap,” Amy said, “see ya then.” She then hung up the phone.

I tucked the phone back into my pocket, and slouched back onto the couch, my life slowly wasting away.

***

It was half past eight when I finally awoke, and I found I was prepared to do the twenty minute walk to Amy’s house by nine. So, to kill the forty minutes I had to spare, I turned on the television.

“...program is interrupted to bring you breaking news.” Just in time to hear breaking news.

“Unova Extremists have infiltrated Johto and are now holding seventeen year-old Amy Witheron captive to demonstrate what happens when you call their native Pokemon ugly. Earlier today, the extremists uploaded this video to PokeTube.”

I felt my jaw drop, and my heart seemed to freeze.

“Johto folk have no right calling Unova Pokemon ugly! I mean, look at Kalos. They only found seventy Pokemon, that’s not even impressive. I could have done that when I was ten. Why can’t you make fun of them? And don’t forget you guys have Unown! When’s the last time you ever heard ‘Oh, I really quite like collecting all the f***ing Unown,’?”

“The video then goes on to say complete nonsense such as how dumb baby Pokemon are and how pathetic Sunkern is. The situation is being taken very seriously by the Goldenrod Police Force who now have the house surrounded after the extremists announced an execution at noon.”

I leaped off the couch, rushing down the stairs and burst through the front door without even telling my mother where I was headed.

***

The house was completely surrounded by one moustached cop with a flashlight, who was occupied battling a traveler with his Growlithe, and the Johto News van, so jumping over the fence without being detected wasn’t a concern. Marat the Mareep was still eating the grass without a worry in the world.

I peeked through the window and saw Amy on a chair, bound by ropes and silenced by duct tapes. Her eyes widened, and I signalled at her to stay quiet. Her eyes pointed towards a table inside the room, which had the custom made Pokeball resting on it. I nodded, and slowly creaked the door open. It groaned slightly, however, I drew no attention.

I picked up the Pokeball and slipped back out of the house, jogging hastily over to Marat. Marat raised his little blue head and looked over the yellow Pokeball. He tilted his head in apparent confusion, as if wondering why his master wasn’t with the Pokeball.

“Look, I just need you to get inside the Pokeball, okay?” I felt pretty stupid afterward, because Pokemon don’t actually understand English. It was dumb to think that speaking to them actually made a difference.

Glass shattered from behind me, and I found myself lying prone on the ground, avoiding the rounds of gunshots being fired at me. One of the bullets hit the back of my leg.

“Sh*t!” I yelled. I couldn’t really feel anything at first. Then the pain was intense; it was as though the inside of my entire leg was on fire.

I rolled onto my back, and witnessed Marat and the other Mareep firing Electro Balls back. One of the extremist’s face was electrocuted, collapsing into a heap onto the ground with dribble frothing from his mouth.

Marat was then shot in the leg, red blood staining its fluffy yellow wool. “No!” I screamed, hauling the yellow Pokeball at it. It was consumed in an eerie red glow, and protected from the gunfire of the second Unova extremist.

I looked back to the other Mareep. One had become a Mega Ampharos, a majestic electric being but with long hippie hair as mega evolutions tended to have. It seemed to be surrounded by a golden aura as it started to glide towards the second extremist, impervious to the gunfire of mortal man.

The Mega Ampharos’ little paw was enveloped in crackling electricity, preparing a ThunderPunch. The Ampharos thrust its paw into the Unova extremist’s face, electrifying at such heat that the very skin of his face shriveled and burned away and all that remained was a blood drenched skull. The Unova extremist fainted, and Ampharos received 723 experience. No, Ampharos earned 723 experience.

I exhaled in relief, and looked at the Pokeball in my hand. It was struggling and shaking violently. I let it go and it started wiggling on the ground, the centre button on the Pokeball lighting up a dull red colour. Then I realised, despite the obvious plot holes it would create, that Marat the Mareep was not Amy’s, but was an unclaimed, wild Pokemon that she cared for.

And so I stood there and watched the Pokeball wiggle back and forth, side to side.