A Poke Af-Fair

Hamlet flexed his tiny biceps and pushed his chubby chest out. “Fair day, fair day, time to win some tickets on fair day!”
	Static narrowed his eyes. “Oh I love that tune you just made up. Please sing it again.”
	Their neighbor Stitches began cracking up so hard he collapsed in stitches.
	Flurry rushed to him to check his seams. “Careful, Stitches, or you might split apart.”
	“A-huh-huh-huh!” Stitches giggled.
	They arrived at the train station entrance, where they were supposed to rendezvous with the others. Nibbles was already waiting, her little feet tapping the gravel impatiently.
	“Where’s Diana and Marshal?” asked Flurry.
	A sing-song voice called out. “He’s hereeeee!” Marshal walked up to them and swished his head so his blonde bangs fell to the side. He twirled and finished with a smart pose.
	“Who invited the King of Drama?” said Static.
	Marshal scowled. “I don’t know what your deal is. You’d think you’d be nicer to me, us being the same species and all.”
	“What’d I miss?” Diana said as she sashayed up to the train station.
	Hamlet flexed his biceps some more. “Nothing important.”
	Flurry scanned the area. “Where’s Fuchsia?”
	A high-pitched voice rang through the crisp winter air. “GUYS! GUYYYYYS!”
	“I think that about answered your question, a-huh-huh,” said Stitches.
	Fuchsia came running up to them, her usually immaculate blonde bangs frazzled like wet straw. “It’s a disaster! A disaaaaster, girlfriend.”
	“Whoa, what’s going on?” Static asked.
	Fuchsia grabbed Marshal and Nibbles’ arms and attempted to drag them away from the train station. “Run! They’re taking over the faaaair!”
	Hamlet held an arm out, blocking Fuchsia’s path. “Calm down. Who’s taking over the fair?”
	“Team Flare! They game-jumped and now they’re at the fairgrounds, burning tickets and stealing prizes.”
	Nibbles clapped her hands together. “Oooh, did they bring any cute Pokemon?”
	“An Inkay was squirting ink all over the place.”
	Nibbles gasped. “We have to go. We HAVE to go. Now. C’mon, guys!” She turned ran into the train station without another word.
	Fuchsia growled. “Why do I bother? Nibbles - wait!”
	“I used to battle Charizard in my day,” said Hamlet. “Those girls’ll need my protection.” He, too, disappeared through the mouth of the train station.
	Static sighed. “Do we have to?”
	“They’re out friends,” said Flurry.
	“I’ll stay here and protect Stitches,” said Marshal.
	“I don’t need protection. My fabric is fireproof.”
	“I don’t care who Team Flare is, I’m getting my face painted today,” said Diana. “To the fair!”
	–
The fairgrounds were a wreck, the air tinged with burnt barbecue and burning stalls. Someone in the distance came a roar of a Charizard. The eight friends from Stardust could hardly disembark from the train with all the animals fighting to get on it. The train was close to bursting when it left the station.
	“We shouldn’t have disembarked,” Fuchsia wailed. “We’re never getting home!”
	“Quit being a baby,” scolded Static. “That’s Nibbles’ job.”
	Nibbles pointed at an Inkay hovering over a food stand. “There are Inkay here! Aren’t they adorable?”
	“Yes, not to mention evil,” said Marshal.
	“That’s only because they’re under the wrong hands. If I caught an Inkay…”
	“Why are we standing around instead of fighting?” said Hamlet. “Haaaiyah!” He ran out to the food stall, jumped, and wrapped himself tightly around one of the Inkay’s tentacles. The Inkay squealed and flailed like a banshee, squirting thick globules of ink everywhere. One of the globules of ink smacked Marshal right in the face. His carefully styled fringe sopped with pungent ink.
	Marshal turned the shade of a perfect apple. “Nobody messes with my hair,” he growled. “It’s payback time.” With a battle cry, he ran forward and grabbed ahold of another Inkay. His white fluffy tail swished in the air, hitting a few other Inkay, who responded by jetting more ink. The grass was quickly drowned in a sludge puddle.
	“Poor Marshal,” Diana said. “It’s going to take forever to get that ink out of his hair.”
	Just then, a slender man in a striking red suit stepped into the fray. “What’s this? Do these cutesy animals really think they can take on our Pokemon?”
	As if in response, one of the Inkay squealed and rose into the air in a desperate attempt to shake Hamlet off.
	“Hamlet, let go!” Flurry cried.
	Hamlet did, and he plunged into the puddle of ink below. He sprang to his little feet. “I’m okay, I’m okay!”
	A white snowball landed right next to him and was immediately engulfed in black liquid. It coughed and spluttered. Diana gasped. “Poor Marshal.”
	“I think we should call Marshal Sootball from now on,” said Nibbles, giggling. “Eh, Flurry?”
	Flurry had buried her face in her aurora knit shirt. “I can’t watch.”
	This was when Stitches starting sobbing. “The plushies – I can’t stand it, it’s too horrible.”
	He was pointing at a crowd of Houndoon who were ripping apart the stuffed toys in the stalls, pulling out stuffing and chewing on their plastic eyeballs.
	Diana covered Stitches eyes protectively. “Shh, it’s okay…”
	“Monsters!” said Fuchsia. She ground her hooves together. “I’ll take revenge for you, Stitches-”
	But before Fuchsia could make one step into the fray, someone purple had barrelled into the site of the massacre. Someone with a lightning bolt on his forehead.
	“No one makes Stitches cry but me!” cried Static. He was soon enveloped by the pack of Houndoons, gnashing fangs and all.
	“No - Statiiic!” Fuchsia ran after him, pushing through the Houndoons. She kicked at them with her hooves and karate chopped their faces. The Houndoons ran away whimpering, their Team Flare trainers running behind them shouting curses and ignored commands.
	Everyone ran over to the carnage. Static lay motionless on Fuchsia’s lap amongst ripped plushies, his arms wrapped around something. Scratches ravaged his face.
	“Static!” Nibbles cried. “Static, are you all right?”
	“A-huh-huh, don’t die on me, buddy!” said Stitches.
	Flurry began sobbing into her hands. “Oh we were supposed to go skiing next weekend…”
	“And...we shall,” came a raspy answer.
	Static’s eyes had opened a silver; a grin spread across his face.
	“Oh thank Isabelle, you’re alive!” Nibbles threw her arms around him and kissed his cheek, her large front teeth bumping against his chin.
	“Of course,” said Static weakly. “You’ve got to have at least one cranky in town or it will start reeking of niceness.” He smiled and opened his arms. “Stitches - I saved something for you.”
	Stitches reached out to take the mini plushie version of himself from Static’s arms. A small tear escaped from his eyes and was immediately absorbed into his face. “You saved me,” he whispered.
	“No, Stitches,” said Static. “You saved me. When you agreed to sell your hammerhead shark to me last week.”
	Hamlet puffed out his chest. “Hey. You refused to sell it to me when I asked.”
	“Your offered price was too low,” said Stitches.
	“Guys, look,” said Fuchsia, pointing into the fairgrounds. “The Pokemon - they’re leaving.”
	Sure enough, the Pokemon who had previously been ravaging the grounds were taking off into the woods. The ground shook with the passing of Digletts and Dugtrios that burrowed under ground, Meowths were chased away by dog villagers - Cherry and Lucky amongst them - and Pidgeys flew away into the horizon, pursued by the ever-resplendent Phoebe.
	“Looks like the battle’s over,” said Hamlet. “You’re welcome, everybody.”
	Just then, a familiar face approached. “Thank you for saving the fair. I am ever so grateful.”
	“Isabelle?” said Marshal. “You’re the organizer of the fair?”
	Isabelle looked proud. “Of course. I am the planner extraordinaire. I prepared souvenirs for fairgoers, but I’m afraid they’ve been ruined by Team Flare. They won’t be returning anytime soon, though, so if you’d like to come back tomorrow, the fair will be back a-running and I’ll have door gifts for everyone!”
	“Do you need help?” asked Hamlet, puffing out his chest.
	“No thank you. Myself and my brother Digby have got it covered.”
	“Guess it’s time to go home,” said Nibbles, disappointed.
	“Not necessarily. I’ve got good news” said Diana. “It looks like the face painting booth is intact. There doesn’t seem to be anyone manning the stall, so yours truly can run it! Who’s up for winter makeovers?”
	“I’ve already been painted enough, thank you,” said Marshal, who, with dark rings around his eyes, looked like a panda.
	“Time to go home,” said Fuchsia.
	The others quickly agreed and turned to run back into the train station.
	Diana turned around to see their running backs.
	“Hey guys! Where’re you going? Guys?”

THE END.