This is a work of fanfiction by Butterfree/Dragonfree/antialiasis and is not to be reposted without permission. This story is in no way official or endorsed by Nintendo, GAME FREAK, Creatures Inc., or The Pokémon Company.
The Pokademy Awards
This story was originally a challenge from my friend Dannichu. I was to fit twenty phrases from her into a short humour one-shot. It includes mentions of one of her old fics (in fact, another fic like this, with phrases) called Fun in Cyberspace, but reading it prior to this one is not required. Anyway, first, the phrases:1. Can I stab you with a spoon?
2. Oh, go eat some lard.
3. Elvis has left the building!
4. I like pie.
5. It kinda looks like a Diglett, if you squint your eyes and use your imagination.
6. Sixteen pairs of socks.
7. My aunt Grapefruit owned an apple farm.
8. Salutations, officer Fred!
9. Receiving message five of eleven.
10. Mine is the last voice you will ever hear. Do not be alarmed.
11. There is no end and no beginning. There is only custard pastries.
12. Hmm. It appears to be sprouting flames of ice.
13. Twelve Bulbasauring, eleven Lapras leaping, ten Tentacrueling…
14. Don’t forget about Venonat! Can’t forget Venonat!
15. If you do, I’ll give you your very own brain.
16. I think I’d rather be eaten by a Charizard.
17. Ye olde prune.
18. Look at me! I can fly!!!
19. Why, it's President Lincoln, of course!
20. Winner of the 2003 Internet Service Providers' Association awards for Best Unmetered ISP and Best Consumer Application.
And to quote Fun in Cyberspace: "This will be interesting..."
George the Charmander walked grumpily forward on the stage. He wasn’t in the best mood ever to be announcing at the Pokademy Awards; in fact, he looked most forward to being able to leave and go home to drink a nice cup of coffee.
Nevertheless, he took the microphone, straightened his tuxedo and sighed.
“Welcome to the 2003 Pokademy Awards. The much-anticipated Golden Pokéball,” he pointed at a pile of Pokéballs which stood on a chair behind him, “will be awarded to the Pokémon thought to stand out from this year’s movies, games and show. First off, we will have the Stereotype Award.”
The specially-hired Whismur hiding among the audience gasped in fake excitement; the rest looked strangely at them, but then faked excitement too.
“Thank you,” said George dully. “The nominees are…”
“Ooh,” was heard from all the Whismur, and soon the rest of the audience.
Some of the various yellow and green pineapple-like members of that species fainted for joy.
“Nin… who nominated Ninjask for the Stereotype Award?!” George fussed without hearing the even louder Oohs from the crowd.
“And finally, Gardevoir.”
Unlike the Ludicolo, the Gardevoir all appeared highly offended and showed that either by booing, folding their arms and sneering, or yelling out insults to poor George, who after all was just doing his job.
“The winner is…”
An Exploud backstage started roaring to make a drumming sound.
The Gardevoir were even more offended about not even winning the award that they should never even have been nominated for in the first place. George got a few tomatoes in his face, but he quickly brushed them off despite his rapidly increasing urge to kill somebody. The Ludicolo, however, were so touched that all the rest of them fainted and one of the Hariyama staff had to use Smellingsalt on one of them. He then walked dizzily up to the stage, received the Golden Pokéball statue from George, muttered something in the direction of “Thank you, amigos…”, and then dropped down as he tried to walk down from the stage. The Hariyama carried him out to revive him.
“The next award,” George said in a tired voice, “is the Crossdressing Award…”
The dress-wearing male Gardevoir instantly knew what was coming, but George knew it too and therefore stuck his fingers in his ears while they shouted out rude words, even though he had no ears to stick his fingers in.
“The only nominee is Gardevoir…”
“…so it’s kind of obvious who won, isn’t it?”
George ducked to dodge a coconut thrown at him. Since none of the Gardevoir appeared to be very keen on getting the award, George just threw it at one in the front row, who unfortunately got caught in the Pokéball as it fell to the ground and wobbled three times before shutting with a ping. Not bothering to correct this mistake, George just went on.
“Um… the best addition of an Ability award nominees include…”
There was a wave of whispers from the audience as everybody tried guessing who would get it.
George couldn’t help thinking that the pink bulldog in the second row should really take off that doll dress if he wanted to look intimidating.
“…and Weezing’s Levitate.”
The only Weezing in the crowd was currently humming “I can fly!” as he hovered above his seat.
“Your award?” George held forward the Golden Pokéball. Weezing, having no hands, also got caught into the ball as he came to take it.
“Well… the Holiday award… in the last award we had a close tie between Delibird and Stantler, but this time I’m afraid that Sceptile beat Delcatty by far…”
The green raptors cheered, and one of them walked up to the stage. When George handed him the Golden Pokéball, the Sceptile burst into song:
“Twelve Bulbasauring, eleven Lapras leaping, ten Tentacrueling…”
“Yeah, yeah, and sixteen pairs of socks,” George interrupted, annoyed. “Now let me get on with the awards.”
The Sceptile strode off, seemingly very offended.
“Anyway… erm, next is the winner of the 2003 Internet Service Providers’ Association awards for Best Unmetered ISP and Best Consumer Application…”
George was getting thoroughly ticked now, so he just said sarcastically: “Why, it’s President Lincoln, of course!”
He threw the envelope containing the winner angrily into the dustbin. Nobody paid any attention to it, since it was a mystery how that even got into the Pokademy Awards.
“Well, our next award is for, uh, the most pieful Pokémon still in the game… Magikarp won by a long run…”
Somebody threw a Magikarp onto the stage, where the fish flopped stupidly. For a moment, it didn’t appear to know what was going on; then it spoke three words of wisdom:
“I like pie.”
George gritted his teeth; the nominees just kept getting stupider. “Do you?” he asked icily.
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do,” Magikarp replied, failing to catch the sarcasm.
“If you do, I’ll give you your very own brain. How does that sound?” George spat.
“Brain?” asked the Magikarp quizzically. George slapped his forehead.
“Forget it,” he grumbled, dropping the Golden Pokéball on the Magikarp so he was caught and rolled off the stage.
“All right,” George announced, the blood dripping off every syllable, “now it’s the most evil Pokémon.”
The Whismur, who had totally forgotten their role for a while, started “oooh”-ing again.
“Nominated are: Carvanha, Glalie, Absol and Zangoose.”
One Pokémon of each of those species immediately rushed to the stage, convinced that they were about to receive the award.
“Mine is the last voice you will ever hear. Do not be alarmed,” Zangoose threatened George, holding up his purple claws.
“No! Mine!” said Carvanha, gnawing at the air.
“Mine!” Glalie hissed.
“It shall be mine,” said Absol, glaring at the others. Soon they started fighting, all the other members of their species joined in and they had to be removed from the scene by some of the Hariyama.
“Looks like this winner will have to be declared later,” George sighed. “Well, now it’s the Insanity Award. Spinda was nominated, but I’m afraid Kadabra from Fun in Cyberspace is getting this Pokéball.”
The Spinda among the audience were too drunk to boo or throw tomatoes at George, for which he was delighted – but that didn’t change that he was about to have to hand a golden Pokéball to the craziest Pokémon in the history of fanfiction.
Kadabra himself teleported out of his seat and suddenly stood by George’s side. He jumped and stepped backwards as Kadabra aimed his spoon at him like a sword.
“Can I stab you with a spoon?”
“No thanks, I think I’d rather be eaten by a Charizard,” George replied, absolutely creeped out already.
“Ye olde prune!” Kadabra hissed, glaring madly at George as he pushed the spoon further towards him.
“Salutations, Officer Fred!” the magician suddenly said, holding his spoon to his forehead and grinning like a salesman.
“Please leave,” George muttered, slapping the Golden Pokéball into Kadabra’s palm. “Man, I wish this was over…”
“There is no end and no beginning,” said Kadabra wisely. “There is only custard pastries.”
“Oh, go eat some lard. Please,” George hissed in the iciest voice known to Charmanderkind.
“Hmm. It appears to be sprouting flames of ice,” Kadabra said scientifically, tilting his head as he observed George carefully.
“GO AWAY!” George screamed. Kadabra looked slightly taken aback for a second.
“Receiving message five of eleven,” he said electronically before disappearing in a flash. When he was gone, a telepathic echo of “Elvis has left the building!” sounded; then all went silent.
George wiped some sweat off his forehead. “OK, he’s gone.”
But nobody was paying any attention to him. The audience was starting to chat. A Venonat in the front row was excitedly talking to a Growlithe: “Hey, you know, my aunt Grapefruit owned an apple farm…”
“No! Stop it!” he groaned. “We just have one award left!”
He got no response, so he decided just to get this over with.
“All right… the last award is the Poser award. The honour is shared between the nominees Plusle, Minun and Feebas.”
“Don’t forget about Venonat! Can’t forget Venonat!” the Venonat piped up hopefully.
“Venonat? Why?” asked George quizzically.
“Well, it kinda looks like a Diglett, if you squint your eyes and use your imagination,” the Growlithe suggested. “Really, she sometimes fools me.”
George screwed his eyes shut and sighed; then, in order to keep the fic’s rating at a reasonable level, he took out a pen and walked up to the camera man. He wrote two large words on the lens:
Then the Pokademy Awards developed some unexpected, violent twists which will not be repeated here for the sake of the kids reading.
A/N: Kadabra and Fun in Cyberspace are owned by Dannichu.
Page last modified July 14 2017 at 16:44 GMT