Author's notes: Ok... this is a crazy fic. It's not a part of The Quest for the Legends' plot. It's a crazy little extra addition. It's a challenge from my friend Dannichu - she sent twenty crazy phrases I was supposed to fit into a short story. The phrases are:

1. Don't make me set Magikarp on you!
2. All I've ever killed is a bunch of houseplants!
4. Okay, who wants to be a millionaire?
5. She found out men are dumb and annoying
6. Look at the last paragraph, stupid!
7. Umm... Fridge magnet? No. Safety pin? No. Week-old piece of chewing gum? No
8. Can I have that in English now?
9. Did you know that there are 293 ways to make change for a dollar?
10. Self-destruct, here I come!
11. Peace for the colonies!!!
12. Hide in the clothing rack and when people browse through say 'PICK ME!
PICK ME!!!!!!
13. The names of the continents all end with the same letter with which they
14. Eat all the history teachers!!!
15. Terms and conditions apply.
16. Hey! We're out of toilet paper in here!
17. All you need is a little food coloring, and voila! There you have a green
18. I've been stuck on this story for a while. Major writer's block is just
19. He's that guy. With the hair.
20. Oh, hello Mother Dearest. I'm just...asking my beloved pal about
hurricanes. No, I'm not e-mailing her. Heh heh heh...

It also contains something I've never thought I'd ever manage to put in a fic of mine: over-description. That is, at a few points, I myself feel like the description is too lengthy. You probably don't agree, though.

Minimum reading requirements (to get the general idea of what is happening): The Quest for the Legends: chapter 21 Weird version - special crazy edition.

Recommended reading requirements (to get the full enjoyment out of this fic's potential): All of The Quest for the Legends, Fun in Cyberspace by Dannichu, The Matrix (the movie).

Of course, anybody at all can read it without getting some of the stuff in it...

Extra little neato thing: There are references to some of my favorite books in this fic. They're very small, but if you do notice them, by all means post them.

The Quest for the Legends
Chapter 33,5: Lost in Ruxido

The three kids set off into Ruxido, an ancient forest the almighty Author named by modifying the backwards spelled version of the Icelandic word for “dish”, and decided to let their pokémon walk along with them, out of their pokéballs, so that they could breathe some fresh air.

“Darn it! We’re lost!” Mark said loudly, stopping. “I told you we should’ve gone the other way!”

“Don’t be a fool!” May snapped. “Of course we’re not lost! We know the way out!”

She paused for a moment, then added, “We just don’t know where the way out is.”

Alan rolled his eyes. “Look at the last paragraph, stupid!

“I don’t need to look at it!” May yelled, apparently in a bad mood. “It’s my own line! I remember my own freaking lines!”

The almighty Author decided that it would be wise to settle this argument before it managed to get heated, so her head magically appeared in mid-air. She actually couldn’t resist the temptation to beautify herself a bit, not with scars all over her face, braces and a stupid expression… ouch!

Ahem… the Author, who just banged the poor, poor third person in the head with a frying pan, made herself appear, and actually not only her head. She just summoned a door out of nowhere to step through in the exact way you would expect the ruler of the universe to, and said casually:

“Don’t complain, Alan. You know, I’ve been stuck on this story for a while. Major writer’s block is just awful.”

“Poor you,” said Scyther in his usual, calm I-don’t-really-care tone. “Face it, we’re as lost as a Numel on the North Pole. We don’t have the time to give you tips on writer’s block.”

“That’s not what I came for,” said the author, frowning. “You wouldn’t be able to give me any tips anyway, since I think up everything you say.”

“Oh, really?” said Charizard sarcastically.

Pamela looked around to see if she saw another topic wandering around the forest, but when she remembered that they all took the 10 AM train, she thought of one herself.

“Okay, who wants to be a millionaire?” she suddenly shouted. Everybody fell silent at once and looked at her. She looked around a few times just to see if she didn’t positively have everyone’s attention, then announced: “I’m bored. Raise your hand, and I’ll practise my Pay day on you.”

“No, thanks,” said Skarmory, “I have a better idea. We who can fly should go and find the way out. Now.”

A weird expression spread across the Author’s face as she suddenly blurted out a sentence in her native language: “Ég er allt í einu búin að gleyma hvernig á að tala ensku.”

All of her characters stared at her, nobody daring to question the ways of the Author, in fear of getting killed off in chapter 34.

“Uhhh… can I have that in English now?” Mark finally said, carefully avoiding anything that might offend Her Authority.

“I said something?” asked the Author blankly.

“Never mind,” Mark said quickly.

“Anyway,” said the Author, as to cheer up the still stunned characters, “I know what happened. You have fallen out of the plot.”

All the pokémon and kids gasped. The Author folded her arms and nodded decisively; as if she was telling them important but shocking news; which she, of course, technically was.

Nobody dared to break the electrified silence that now filled the forest of Ruxido, until Charlie, the optimist he always was, took a deep breath, hesitated and then said slowly: “You know, maybe someone else knows the way out. We can just ask.”

“Or,” said Raichu, raising his ears and his eyes going dreamy as if he just had a sudden artistic inspiration, “we could hide in the clothing rack and when people browse through say ‘PICK ME! PICK ME!!!!!!’”

“What clothing rack?” asked Diamond as she looked at Raichu, raising one eyebrow to get her point, namely that he was turning insane, across. Raichu, however, just shrugged and said: “Ask the Author, I’m not in charge of people’s lines here.”

Diamond’s gaze rolled over to the Author, not bothering to repeat the question, but the Author rolled her eyes, sighed, and said: “Duh, the one over there, of course!”

And she pointed at a clothing rack that, from the moment she decided it should be there, had always been there.

“I still think that doesn’t make any sense,” said May’s Butterfree after thinking a bit. “Who would browse through a clothing rack in the middle of a forest? And in a fanfic where Her Authority is feeling insane, completing a challenge from Dannichu, the mighty creator of Kadabra the Insane One, and to top it all, one where the characters have fallen out of the plot?”

“And not to mention who wouldn’t run screaming away when they find eighteen pokémon, three kids and an author in a clothing rack yelling “PICK ME! PICK ME!!!!!!”…” said Scyther and sighed, as he was far the most logically thinking of the group.

“Good point,” said Alan with a thoughtful expression.

“Why don’t we just stop this clothing rack nonsense and try to find out what we can do???” Sandslash exclaimed, but then instantly covered his mouth with his claws, since this was the Author’s idea, after all. She gave him a small nod as a sign that his silent apology was accepted, and he breathed in relief.

Suddenly, a History teacher dashed towards the group of characters. “You… shall… learn… history… forever!!!!!!!!!!” he panted while running as fast as he could, although he was having difficulties due to his vastly oversized belly.

“NNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Mark screamed.

“Let’s run!” said May, and the group scattered as they tried to run away, but the History teachers advanced on them from behind every tree.

“There is no escape!” the History teachers chanted. “There are too many of us!!”

They circled the characters.

“Columbus found America in 1492!!!!!”

The kids screamed, but Pamela just sweat-dropped and said: “Oh, come on. Let’s just eat all the history teachers!”

“YEAH BABY! Eat them!” Raichu agreed, dancing the Macarena to show his support of the idea.

“Half of the things in Icelandic history happened in 1904,” the History teachers said, slowly reaching forward with their hands like zombies.

“EAT THEM!” Scyther roared, darted forward and started slashing randomly at the History teachers.

“EAT THEM!” Raichu shouted, charged up electricity in his cheeks and used a Thunderbolt on a few of them.

“EAT THEM!!!!!!!” Pamela hissed, stretching out her claws and showing her teeth as she leapt towards some of the teachers.

“Ahhhh! That’s my History teacher over there!” the Author suddenly yelled. One of the teachers, a tall, thin, bearded, black-haired man with glasses stepped forward and started speaking in a most unusually loud voice so that it almost echoed off the trees:


“So what if he’s your History teacher?” said Charizard casually. “We can eat him too.”

“You can’t eat him!” the Author protested. “I need to take tests! Besides, he’s the only teacher in the whole school who can keep my class quiet without me having to get up and shout “SHUT UP!” every ten seconds.”

“Then we’ll not eat him,” Scyther said. “Happy? Besides, he’s gone already, guess he doesn’t believe in pokémon.”

Actually, he was still there. He now spoke from behind them, so that they all jumped, “No, but terms and conditions apply.”

“What?” asked Jolteon, confused.

“To be allowed to be among the History teachers in this fic, I had to agree to many things, such as not hurting the Author,” explained Her Authority’s History teacher.

Jolteon glared at the Author, completely forgetting about making sure not to offend her, and said in a quiet voice: “That’s unfair. Why can WE get hurt, but you can’t?”
“Because…” the Author’s History teacher started, but he didn’t get any further because then her old Biology teacher appeared out of nowhere, holding up a video tape.

“Because WE… ARE HUMANS!” he said, his eyes closed in deep admiration of his own kin, as patriotic music started playing in the background. Then a white car drove up to him without a driver, he sat down in the driver’s seat and drove away.

“I’ve just found out something,” Butterfree said thoughtfully when he was gone.

“What?” asked Mist. Butterfree wasn’t about to answer, but the Author pushed her History teacher quickly out of the frame.

“She found out men are dumb and annoying,” she then announced. “But don’t tell them… it may upset them,” she continued in a lower tone so that the History teacher, who was after all just behind the frame, couldn’t hear her.

“Anyway,” said Diamond, looking around, “what do we do with all the half-eaten History teachers?”

Raichu got that dreamy expression again, then walked up onto the pile of dead History teachers and stuck an American flag he was suddenly holding into one’s nostril.

“PEACE FOR THE COLONIES!!!” he shouted passionately.

There was a long silence. Then Diamond, after flicking her eyes between the characters, said, “Err… huh?”

“Just thought I should mention that,” said Raichu and shrugged as he walked down from the pile. The flag fell down due to Raichu having stuck it in the nostril without fitting it first.

“Uh oh,” said Charlie and pointed forward. All of the characters looked where he pointed, but the Author hurriedly pushed the dead History teachers out of the frame before taking a look herself.

Apparently, it was some kind of a parade. It consisted of a priest who walked first holding something that looked like a burning Pokémon Sapphire game. The smell of burning plastic filled their nostrils. A few of them coughed. Following the priest were dozens of kids that were like in a trance, chanting, “Burn them! Kill them all!”

“People like this awaken a certain feeling within me…” Scyther slowly muttered. Charizard turned to him. “Why?” he asked.

“Because I designed Scyther as me in Anti-anti-pokémon mood, with a violent twist,” said the Author, still staring transfixed at the priest and the kids. “Meaning disaster,” she then added.

Scyther stepped forward and confronted the priest. The parade stopped. The kids fell silent. For a while he just stood there and breathed, surveying the priest’s face. The priest didn’t dare to move, as he wasn’t used to seeing giant mantises from the gameboy games he was burning suddenly stand in front of him. Then Scyther finally opened his mouth.

“So… you spend your time teaching children to kill pokémon, and consequently animals too. Then you go around killing pokémon everywhere you can, just to get attention. This is just sick. And I’m getting mad.”

He spoke pretty quietly, but fast; while he said he was getting mad he didn’t look it. But this intimidated the priest even more, until he managed to utter out:

“Th - that’s not true! All I’ve ever killed is a bunch of houseplants that were devil worshippers!”

“Don’t make me set my Magikarp on you…” Scyther threatened. As the priest did not know what Magikarp was, he was terrified.

“You keep off the line, or all I’ve killed will include a stupid priest,” the mantis pokémon then hissed, very slowly to be sure his words sunk in. “And yes, that was a death threat. Go and leave those kids alone, they don’t want to burn pokémon games. Or all the trading cards and action figures you’re also carrying.”

Scyther pushed the priest backwards.

“Leave. Or do you want more proof that I’m real and solid?”

The priest made his choice and disappeared.

As soon as he was off, the children burst out in joy over all the stuff that was now just lying on the forest floor. Soon enough all of them were trying to pick up as much as they could. Some already started trading the cards they managed to pick up before everybody else.

Suddenly, a small, mousey-haired boy looked up from his cards. “Can we own those?” he asked.

“Feel free to,” said Scyther and smiled. “And don’t forget to trade with your friends to catch ‘em all!” he then added and started humming the pokérap.

“Gotta catch ‘em all, PO-KÉ-MON! Yeah!” he dramatically ended it, then noticed that all of the kids had left except for the mousey-haired one.

“May I have your autograph?” the boy asked in a squeaky voice. “I’ve always wanted to meet a pokémon in real life!”

Scyther scribbled his name down on a piece of paper (how he got the piece of paper, the pen and the ability to write was something the Author couldn’t figure out) and then said, “How do you define real life?”

Everybody stared, trying to figure out what that could possibly mean, except for the Author, who was still staring at Scyther and humming a tune. Charlie listened a bit to the melody, and then said, “Uh oh.”

“What?” Charizard asked, leaning down to his brother and speaking in a hoarse whisper.

“The author’s in Matrix mode,” Charlie whispered back.

“And in fictional revenge mode at the same time,” Charizard said when he saw two boys from the Author’s year at school confront her, putting their schoolbags down. What became of the schoolbags still remains a mystery.

All of a sudden, the boys went into battling poses similar to characters from The Matrix, and one of them said loudly: “Bring it on, agent!”

The Author finally awoke from her trance, smiled and posed too, along with Scyther who didn’t want to miss this chance.

The Author’s humming turned into actual Matrix music as she and Scyther staged a Matrix-style battle with the two boys. For the purpose of keeping this fic’s rating at a bearable point, the details will be ignored due to the rather nasty outcome of a Scyther staging a Matrix battle scene.

“There,” said the Author and sighed as Scyther got rid of the remains. “Fictional revenge on those two.”

She took out a small notebook with many names written in it, and crossed two of them off the list.

“Shouldn’t we get out of here now?” Skarmory said, getting impatient as he hadn’t done anything at all since he got the now forgotten idea of flying out of the forest. Everybody agreed with him this time, and they walked on.

And walked.

And walked.

“Haven’t we passed this clothing rack before?” May commented. “It looks somehow familiar.”

“Duh!” said the Author, completely turned off by how thick a character based on herself could be. “There’s only one in the whole of Ruxido!”

“Darn it!” May hissed and kicked a nearby tree. A Pineco sitting on one of the top branches woke up.

“This is it,” he said dramatically. “Self-destruct, here I come!”

He took a deep breath, because this was a depressed Pineco who was about to purposefully end his sorry life, and was a bit nervous.

“GERONIMO!” he screamed as he fell down, glowing white. When he hit the ground, he exploded like a grenade.


The force of the explosion was such that all the characters and the Author blasted off into the sky.


“Wwwwwo… Hhha! Tahw egaugnal ma I gnikaeps??” Kram detrulb tuo ni cinap.

“Yeh! Yhw sah eht tserof denrut der? Dna yhw si eht nus kcalb-hsieulb nda stime ssenkrad?” Nala detnemmoc no eht tnemnorivne, hcihw demees ot evah detrevni.

“T’nod yrrow, taht Tcurtsedfles tsuj detsalb su ot Odixur-Itna,” dias eht Rohtua.

“Yhw t’nod I dnatsrednu flesym?” deksa Kram, gnikcinap.

“Ni Odixur-Itna, ro, llew, yna ecalp-Itna,” eht Rohtua denialpxe, “elpoep kaeps sdrawkcab. Os s’tel ekam na troffe ta gnikaep sdrawkcab, os ti lliw emoc tuo yltcerroc. Tel em yrt: Hello? Can you hear me properly?”

“Rahc Drazirahc?” deksa Drazirahc.

“You need to speak backwards, then it will come out correctly,” the Author explained again. “That Selfdestruct blasted us to Anti-Ruxido, and in Anti-places, you say everything you mean to say backwards. So you need to mean to say something backwards, and you will say it correctly.”

Mark didn’t quite understand this properly, but he still made an attempt to speak:

“Let me try: Testing… 123… testing…”

Poor Charizard was still saying his name backwards. “Oh, yeah… you can only say your own name forward,” the Author said, stroking her chin. “So you can’t say anything understandable at all while we’re in an Anti-place.”

“How do we get out of an Anti-place?” May asked.

“We must anti-go,” said the Author like it was the obvious thing.

“Stay, you mean?” Alan corrected.

“No, we must come,” said the Author.

“How can we come if we are here already?” May said. The Author sighed.

“That’s the problem. We probably have no other choice than going on an Anti-vacation, then we can Anti-come back.”

“Good idea,” Mark said, without even having understood what the Author said.

“Wait,” said the Author quickly, “to go on an Anti-vacation, we first need to check if we don’t positively not have anything we’re going to anti-take.”

“OK…” said Alan and thought a bit. “Umm... Fridge magnet? No. Safety pin? No. Week-old piece of chewing gum? No. There. Let’s go on an anti-vacation.”

And they went on what was certainly not a vacation, and then when they did not come back from it, they got out of the evil place of Anti-Ruxido.

“Phew!” Charizard said, stroking the sweat off his forehead. “That place was creepy.”

“Yeah,” Charlie agreed. “I’m happy to be out.”

“Only problem is,” said the Author, “that we are now in the Arctic.”

She was shivering, and so were the other pokémon, all except Charizard, Charlie and Diamond, who had flames of their own after all. In fact, all the pokémon were gathering around Charizard’s tail flame in order to keep warm.

“This won’t do,” Mist uttered out. “We’re freezing.”

“Don’t they always say that all you need to do is to change your view on things?” said Scyther, as small icicles started forming on his scythes. “If we had something green on here, we could imagine that we’re still in Ruxido, and we’ll feel better…”

“You are green,” Pamela commented. “And Racko too.”

Scyther just shrugged and moved closer to Charizard’s tail flame. Meanwhile, Alan and Mark were building a snowman.

“There!” Mark said happily as he stuck a carrot the Author handed him into the snowman’s face.

“Oh, do you have to be doing this now?” Scyther snapped. “You’re just making things worse for us who don’t wear clothes.”

Mark was about to apologize, but Alan just searched his backpack and took out a green bottle.

“All you need is a bit of food coloring, and voila! You have a green snowman! Now he’s green, so you can’t protest!”

He folded his arms to emphasize the last part. Mark, looking quickly between him and Scyther, folded his arms too, and there they stood, both looking very determined, with the green snowman between them. Scyther rolled his eyes and turned back to the flame.

“We need to get out of here,” the Author said decisively. “Remember the Wizard of Oz? We need a hurricane or something to blow us back to the pokémon world.”

“You mean we’re in the real world?” Mark gasped, his eyes widening. “AHHH! I see it now! Look at yourselves!”

The rest of them screamed as they noticed each other’s 3d.

“Seriously, guys, you don’t have to act like the real world is still World War II with Hitler around or something,” the Author said, rolling her eyes.

“Who’s Hitler?” May said blankly.

“He’s that guy,” said the Author. “With the hair.”

Her eyes full of understanding, May nodded and said: “Oh, him. Now I know who you mean.”

Suddenly, the Author’s mother came walking. She didn’t believe in pokémon, so all that she saw was that the Author stood there alone, muttering something about hurricanes.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she said. “In the Arctic! Are you trying to kill yourself? And don’t mention Hitler! Can’t you ever get off your computer without getting depressed?”

“Oh, hello Mother dearest. I'm just...asking my beloved pal about
hurricanes. No, I'm not e-mailing her. Heh heh heh...” the Author said awkwardly, making an attempt at smiling.

“I don’t see any beloved pal of yours,” her mother said angrily.

“Of course not,” the Author said, frowning. “She’s my invisible friend, you see.”

“You’ve never had an invisible friend!” her mother hissed. Just then, there was a noise from a helicopter. They looked up, and there was one directly above them, throwing down a rope ladder. The Author immediately started climbing up it, and her mother followed.

“Sorry!” the Author yelled down. “I can’t escape from her in any other way!”

And with that, she was gone.

“Hey! We’re out of toilet paper in here!” somebody suddenly shouted. It was Pamela, who had gone into a little hole in the snow to pee.

“Do you usually use toilet paper?” May asked. She didn’t answer, so Alan did it for her.

“No, but she likes to make others think so when she’s not at home, to make everyone think she’s the queen of the universe or something.”

Pamela came out, highly offended, and turned her back at the people who dared questioning her rule over the universe.

“Now, how can we get out?” May sighed. “The only one who can just transport characters to somewhere else is the Author.”

“And Kadabra,” Butterfree added, but everybody hushed her down. Everybody waited in suspense for a few moments and looked carefully around, but when they saw he wasn’t coming, they sighed in relief. Then they started talking amongst each other about how they could bring the Author back, and ended up in a heated argument. Nobody cared to stop it except Scyther, who was after all based on the Author in Anti-anti-pokémon mood, so he had a natural hatred towards flaming.

“Silence!” he bellowed. Everybody fell quiet and waited for him to say his suggestion, as everybody was sure he must have been suggesting a way to bring back the Author. When he realized that, he made up one on the spot.

“Look, the Author won’t come back unless we completely ruin her fic. What if we twist it so that it makes no sense? Then she must come to fix it.”

Everybody started saying random sentences, most of them being quotes from Dannichu.

“My brother can fit 30 grapes into his mouth at once!”

“Did you know that there are 293 ways to make change for a dollar?”

“This is obviously the evil and cruel attack of the Nine Vertical Pies!”

“The names of the continents all end with the same letter with which they

“I have some Sunflora in a vase!”

“It is I, Omelette, the Cheese Danish!”

After this went on for a while, a human actually appeared.

“WOW! IT’S DANNICHU!” everybody screamed, rushing towards her to get her autograph. Confused by her sudden appearance in the Arctic, she just made Kadabra teleport her back to the safety of her room.

Meanwhile, the pokémon started saying random phrases again.

“I didn’t know it was possible to mutate into a textbook!”

“Hey, guys…” May suddenly said, “I think the Author isn’t going to come this way.”

Everybody looked up.

“This is a crazy fic. We’re out of the plot. It’s only better for her that we freak.”

“She’s right, you know,” said Mist. Everybody fell silent and sulked for a while.

“You know,” Scyther suddenly said, “I think we only have one choice.”

He suddenly walked forward in a random direction, raised his scythe and… AHHH! NO! DON’T! PLEASE! I BEG YOU! I’M JUST A POOR THIRD PERSON!

It worked. The Author popped up behind Scyther.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” she hissed. “You can’t kill the third person! Who can tell the story then?”

“Sorry,” said Scyther and let me go. “I just had to do it to summon you, because we need to get back.”

“Hmmm, you’re right,” said the Author thoughtfully. “But first, I’m going to fire this third person.”

“What?” I asked. “Why fire me? I’m a great third person!”

“You tend to over-describe,” said the Author, apparently deciding to be picky. “And you just don’t do your role properly. People aren’t supposed to know you’re here.”

“You can’t fire me without saying the exact right words,” I said, crossing my arms.

“Yes, I’m keeping you to the end of this fic,” said the Author. “Chaletwo!”

Chaletwo’s Mewtwo-like shape popped out of Mark’s pokéball.

“Take us to Ruxido, at the exact time when they got out of the plot.”

And in an instant they were all back in Ruxido.

“Molzapart, erase their memory,” the Author ordered, and Molzapart popped out of his ball, his eyes glowing red and shooting into the characters’ heads. At that very moment, Chaletwo and Molzapart went back into their balls and the Author disappeared with a small pop. When the characters were past, however, a low hissing voice said:

“Third person agent BLW/553/c, you’re fired.”