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Old February 17th, 2013 (3:21 AM). Edited February 17th, 2013 by Cutlerine.
Cutlerine Cutlerine is offline
Gone. May or may not return.
Join Date: Mar 2010
Location: The Misspelled Cyrpt
Age: 22
Nature: Impish
Posts: 1,030
> Totodile, huh? There's only one explination: ZOOOMMBIIIEEEEES. That or Team Rocket. Probably zombies.

To be honest, you have no idea what's going on. Some futile sense of nationalism says you ought to blame the Rockets, but really, given their decidedly lacklustre attempts to conquer the Kanto/Johto area, they couldn't criminal their way out of a paper bag. If you're going to assign blame based on past exploits, your money's on the Aquas or Magmas. I mean, they're the only ones who've ever actually managed to summon Ancient Evils and set them loose.

Freakin' hippies.

> Releasing and examining 'Totodile' is probably not the best of ideas. Do it anyway.

You nickname Totodile 'That Thing', since that's what you've been calling it so far and it seems to have been doing just fine. Then you set your Pokémon Training skills to the problem of what the hell is happening here.

First up, you pop open the Pokédex and have a look at the entry for 'Totodile', since it was beeping earlier – and yes, as you suspected, it's registered a new form. You see a little picture of That Thing, towering over that of its more familiar little blue variant.

This form appears to have a name.

It is called Eldritch Form.

You swallow. 'Eldritch' is not a comforting sort of word. In fact, when there are beasts that defy the laws of nature slithering around, 'eldritch' is probably the last thing you want them to be described as.

Well. That, and 'titanic'.

The Pokédex also cheerfully reminds you that 'it won't hesitate to take a bite out of anything that moves.'

Gee, thanks for that, Oak.

You look around for a while – at the smashed TV, at the broken door, at the wrecked chair. That Thing has caused about $3000 worth of property damage since it turned up; you're actually kind of glad Mom isn't here, or she'd be chewing you out something fierce.

You take a look at That Thing's Poké Ball. In a process that's either a manifestation of pure evil or just the Narrator screwing with you, the Eldritch Form Totodile appears to be corroding the Poké Ball from the inside, bits of metal and plastic flaking away to reveal spots of oozing black oil. You don't know how long this thing is going to stay captured, but you're pretty sure it isn't going to be more than a couple of hours.

Man, you wish you hadn't wasted your Master Ball on that Skarmory. You wouldn't have done it normally, you really wouldn't. But you know how it is: you're out on Mt. Silver, it's getting late, you can't be bothered to go through that whole lengthy battle process... Screw it, you thought, and lobbed it at him. I mean, it's not like you were ever going to need a Ball that good for anything anyway.

All the self-esteem you gained from that capture is draining away rapidly. You are, you realise unhappily, a Grade A moron.

Well, it looks like you've run out of ways to put this off.

You toss down the ball and step back hurriedly, wiping unrefined oil on your jeans. There's a burst of greasy black light, and That Thing appears. Thankfully, it's still unconscious. Although it's supposed to obey you (you do have all eight Gym Badges) you really don't think That Thing has much respect for the institutions of the League.

And you really don't want to have your face eaten by an eight-foot-long demon crocodile.

Or by anything, really.

You hunker down next to That Thing and have a look. Looks like he's male, Level 5, and dear Lord look at those stats.

125 Attack?

113 Hit Points?

98 Speed?

Oh my God. You are so lucky this guy is only Level 5. If he'd even been Level 10, he would probably have killed you so badly you're not sure you would ever have been born.

That Thing is also holding an Item: Your Right Shoe. Apparently it boosts Speed slightly.

That Thing's moves are:

Scratch (Physical, Normal, 40 Att., 100 Acc.)
Leer (Status, Normal, 100 Acc.)
Face Chomp (Physical, Abominable, 123 Att., 87.5 Acc.)

You blink. OK. So that's pretty weird.

You are really, really glad he never managed to get his teeth into your face.

For information about A Grand Day Out, a bizarre short story in video game form, click here.