Chapter Text
Chapter 10 - Singing Galore
A lone guard on the fourth floor of the building woke up with a jolt. He looked around anxiously, before relaxing against the wall that he had leaned on. He had been taking a quick power-nap, but had been interrupted from a dream – which strangely enough involved giant slabs of cheese wanting to teach him the polka – by loud noises from the lower levels.
Stupid dancers… why do they have to make so much noise? One would think that they were having a massive Pokémon battle, not a dance lesson… pondered Doken as he glared downwards, as if he could see through the multiple floor levels below.
The set-up here was very odd. After all, what kind of dance school needed guards? Doken knew at least twenty other people had been given the same job as him - to guard the premises and make sure that nobody without ID were allowed past into the cave.
The guy - at least, Doken assumed it was a guy - that employed them was strange as well, and that was putting it mildly. He always walked with some music playing out loudly from a radio, often sung out instructions to the tune, and possessed a large ball of hair on top of his head. Talking with him was very odd, as Doken found himself talking to the tune of the music as well if he didn’t try to resist, and the afro that Miror B - what the guy insisted was his real name - sported was somewhat distracting.
At least the weirdo had a good choice of music.
And more importantly, he paid generously as well. That was the golden rule of business, as Doken had learned in his days as working as a guard - if you wanted your employees to keep quiet, give them money. There was no arguing with that sort of logic, and Doken stuck by that rule. There was no point finding out things that you didn’t want to know.
He had even been given a special ‘Shadow’ Pokémon as a ‘bonus’. It was some apparently stronger and superior Pokémon, although Doken wasn’t all that impressed by it. It was a Qwilfis, a small ball-shaped fish Pokémon that instantly puffed itself up at any sign of danger, revealing a large array of small yet sharp and poisonous spikes. However, it was just too aggressive. The Pokémon insisted on trying to attack any Pokémon that it saw, including Doken's own Pokémon during the battles that he and the other guards had during the breaks, with bets made to make it that much more interesting. Which was somewhat annoying, as having your own Pokémon attack themselves wasn’t much of an advantage in battles. Already Doken had earned a nickname amongst his work mates, thanks to Qwilfish’s contributions: The Moneymaker.
Not that it particularly mattered. Doken’s pay far exceeded his losses, as he had a higher role than most of his fellow workmates. He had control over the lower part of the building’s guards, and it was so much easier to let them do the work instead of doing it himself.
The guard’s thoughts just then were interrupted by the sound of people racing up the stairs. Sounds like the dance class is over, thought Doken.
“I.D. please,” said Doken in a bored tone. He blinked when, instead of seeing one of his workmates appear, a young yet determined teenager stomped up the stairs and faced him down.
“Where’s Miror B?” demanded the girl.
Oh dear, this isn’t good… thought Doken worriedly. Whenever someone asked for someone in that tone of voice, they also meant ‘or else’. But coming from such a person as this girl…
“How did you get through here? Halt, or we will take action if you come past this point!” Doken said. He moved his hand to his back pocket where an walkie-talkie that each guard had was inside, and pressed the ‘silent alarm’ button upon it.
Heh, soon a whole bunch of guards should show up and do the work for me, thought Doken confidently, leaning back against the wall. I love modern technology. The girl didn’t seem all that intimidated by Doken's self-assurance however, and continued forward.
Yep, they’re going to show up any second now.
...Anytime time – I mean, now.
Still the girl kept coming.
Um… where the hell are they?
“Out of my way!” she yelled, suddenly striking out with her foot and making contact with the guard’s shin.
“Oww! Hey, stop that!” cried Doken. How dare she attack me! he thought furiously. He reached back and jabbed the silent alarm button a few more times for good measure, keeping his eye on the crazy girl all the while. Doken decided that it would be wise to stand a bit away from her, and his throbbing shin wholeheartedly agreed.
“I’m warning you – you’d better leave now, or the rest of the guards shall show up and give you a reason to!” he tried, trying the good-old scare tactic again. The girl just frowned at this however.
“Um... there are ghosts ahead!’ he tried. “Oohhh!” He backed up his statement by making wild scary gestures.
“Maybe you should be the one that should leave,” she retorted with a smile.
“I doubt that,” snapped Doken, but deep inside doubt began to creep in. His contingent was never this late for anything, even if half of them were lazy slobs. And anyway, how did this girl get past them without being noticed?
Then Doken heard more running steps come.
“Aha, I told you… you!?!” Doken said in surprise as Tom came up the stairs and into view.
“Ayeiei… look an all the antsys!” slurred Tom, looking over the edge of the building to Pyrite Town below, pointing at the people walking around minding their own business.
Ignoring Tom’s comment, Doken continued to gape at him, as he took a swing from a bottle.
Tom. The town drunk - well, one of them anyway - had come here. But how… surely the other guards wouldn’t have failed to notice him, the loud rambling fool. Unless…
Doken's fears were confirmed as another figure came into view as well, approached him, and flashed the police badge.
“You’re under arrest.”
“Oh, breadcrumbs.”
***
Meanwhile, Silva was starting to rethink his plan on taking on the criminals.
In its original form, it had basically it had consisted of walking in and kicking those people’s butts. In slightly more detail, he had planned to come in, shout at them, beat them up, go in further, take on ‘The Leader’ (whoever he was), own him, tell him to leave Duking alone, and then help Duking bring the town back into order again.
Unfortunately, it hadn’t gone quite as he had hoped it would have.
He got in easily enough all right – he had slipped through the door when one of the guards went in. He got past him as well effortlessly, and had succeeded in breaking a random machine by kicking it.
However, it seemed that shouting at them to stop taking over the town hadn’t been one of the smartest things to do. All it had achieved was getting their attention, which turned out to be a bad thing.
And falling over a vengeful and badly-beaten machine, and twisting his right ankle, hadn’t help matters in the slightest.
In the end, Silva had been captured in far less grace than what he had envisioned it to be like – two guards ended up carrying him up and throwing him in this room with two stupid women who kept on asking him questions.
“I asked you - why did you come in here?” asked one of them for the umpteenth time. “And don’t just yell ‘Help!’ again.”
“Because you’re stupid,” answered Silva. He knew that the key to surviving interrogations was to either change the subject, or deny everything.
“Fine then, Silva, what are we going to have to do with you?” continued the woman.
“That’s not it,” retorted Silva.
“What’s not it?”
“My name’s not Silva,” said Silva with a grin.
“Oh, I give up!” exclaimed the woman in exasperation.
“No you don’t,” Silva said.
“He’s so annoying!” she said, trying to ignore him.
“No, you are.”
“Maybe we should let him go,” suggested the other woman. Silva’s heart lifted – maybe he would get off scot-free.
“No way!” the first woman shouted. She glared at the other is if she was a dim-witted fool, causing Silva’s heart to sink right back down again. “If we do that, he’ll just blab out all he knows, and the whole town will know we’re here then! And personally, I don’t fancy being captured by Sherles and thrown in jail.”
Suddenly the door flew open as a bunch of people charged into the room. Silva and the two women turned around to face a group of people, led by Sherles.
“…Well, this sucks,” muttered the first woman.
***
Wes quickly took in the features of the room subconsciously. The room was of a medium size, with a large bookshelf spanning a wall of the room, and a large television screen covering another. There were a few pieces of furniture around the room, and a set of stairs. The main thing that caught his attention however was Silva wrapped up tightly with a rope, with two women beside him.
“I told you that something was going on downstairs, Reath…” one of the women began.
“Oh, shut up, Ferma!” Reath yelled back, clenching a fist.
“I think I’ve seen you somewhere,” said Wes, interrupting the two’s bickering. “Weren’t you two at the windmill?”
“What do you mean, at the windmill? And who are you, anyway?” Reath demanded, staring angrily at Wes.
“Yeah, you look familiar…” mumbled Ferma.
“Um… I’m Wes.”
“…Who?”
What - they don’t know who I am? Despite that I had disrupted their plans, to put it plainly? Wes contemplated.
“Eh, whatever,” shrugged Reath. “Take one step further and Silva gets it.” With that, Reath grabbed Silva and held him close, a smile of pure malice growing upon her face.
“Uh... Reath, isn’t this too far…” Ferma said.
“Shut up!” she shouted.
Wes’ group tensed, quickly thinking a response to this new threat. One move and Reath could severely hurt Silva.
“D…dee… do whatsi?” asked Tom, walking into the room while throwing an empty bottle behind him.
“What are you doing here?” asked Reath in surprise.
“I thaught it is was me hise!” Tom indignantly said, oblivious to the current situation. “See, I wis... was... no wis! I wemp into this door and them the was lots of…” he said, approaching Reath.
“Hey… get back!” Reath said. Tom however was oblivious.
“…but thenss the was this hig duck called Simon! And le wemp ‘quack mack dack’ and…” he slurred.
“Reath, please, let’s not… a duck called Simon?” questioned Ferma.
“… and thuh I says, I saddy says, ‘Let mer be… jammy tarts! And then there there there was… there something, and I was happy,” concluded the rambling Tom, waving his arms about.
“I said get back!” shouted Reath. Deciding that Tom had crossed the line, she started to move her fist back and curled it, preparing to strike Silva.
Espeon, stop her! Wes quickly thought to his partner, trusting that he would be listening. Reath’s fist started moving at an increasing velocity towards Silva’s face, only to suddenly freeze in mid-air only centimetres from Silva’s head, who gave an exasperated sigh of relief.
“Hey, what the…” began Reath, before her fist moved again and connected with her own face.
“Espi Espeon!” (Why don’t you pick on someone with psychic powers!) said Espeon, before lifting Silva forcedly away from Reath and placing him next to Rui and Wes. Next, Espeon began focusing his influence into the transmitter upon his neck and built it up. The transmitter started humming, and began glowing a dark blue. In an afterthought, Espeon also moved Tom towards the group.
“Espeon!” (Keep Silva next to you!) he shouted. Understanding what was about to happen, Rui grabbed Silva and pulled him close. Noticing this, Espeon put a bit more energy into the transmitter and released it, as a glowing wave of energy pulsated from the tiny device and engulfed the room.
“What are you doing now, you little-” snarled Reath, until the wave hit her. Her face of anger was promptly frozen into that expression. Ferma too was affected, only her face was plastered into a look of shock, her mouth gaping open.
“What… just happened?” asked Silva finally in awe, having watched all of these events unfold before his eyes.
“Wiped their minds,” answered Sherles gruffly, as if such an event was a common, everyday part of being a sheriff.
“Pineapples,” commented Tom. Wes sighed – it didn’t seem that the drunk had really noticed the event, nor being transported by Espeon to a different part of the room in the process. But he seemed unaffected by the memory-wiping wave. Tom must have been within range of the transmitters he and the rest had. And at least Johnson seemed silent for once.
“So, Espeon,” began Sherles, ignoring Silva’s confusion over the turn of events, “any way to be able to get them to talk about the whereabouts of Miror B?”
“Esp! (Sure!) Espeon said.
“Good. So then,” Sherles began, turning to Ferma and Reath, “where is Miror B?”
“I don’t know,” answered Johnson suddenly in a monotonic voice. Sherles sighed.
“I know that you don’t know, you idiot. That’s why I was asking them. So shut up. And use your brain for once.”
“That’s not possible,” answered Johnson.
“What, you’re capable of making a joke about yourself?” enquired Sherles, scratching his head. “Whatever, just pipe down. So, where is Miror B?” he asked, turning to Reath.
“He is in the cave,” answered Reath.
“What cave? The one outside this room? Is it easy to get there?”
“Yes. No.”
“You spokes funnis,” said Tom suddenly. “Ikes a Robert.”
“Well, Tom, could you please-” began Sherles, before the blank television screen occupying a wall flickered on into a blurry, multi-coloured image. Slowly, the pixels upon the monitor rearranged themselves to form a more definite shape. Sound started to filter through as well – a faint salsa beat could be heard.
“It’s you,” muttered Wes, observing the revelation of the figure. “Miror B.”
“What’s going on here?” Miror B crossly asked. His eyes behind his yellow disco-styled glasses widened as the afro-wielding man realised that something wasn’t quite right.
“Bla… shud… swha?” cried Tom in fear, noticing the newcomer on the screen. “It’s…. arrghh! Scary wary! SAFE ME, MUMMSY!” he screamed, diving for cover from the abomination into a wall, before running out of the room.
“Um…” sounded Miror B, at a loss for words. “Why did… what scared him?”
“Umbre…” (Talking about ignorant…)
“Ferma, Reath, tell me what’s going on!” Miror B demanded.
“They won’t answer – we’ve got them under our control,” Sherles said, when they simply stood and blinked at the mass of hair in front of them.
“What… but how, and why…. Oh, this is bad, bad, bad!” cried Miror B, running his hands through his afro. “Sherles shows up, they’ve taken over the building, and…” he muttered, before stopping as his eyes picked out Wes. “You’re here! That explains it! And you too!” he cried, spotting Rui as well and pointing at her. “Oh dear, Nascour is going to chew me out!”
“Who’s Nascour?” asked Sherles.
“...Pretend you didn’t hear that. Ah, whatever, I’m already in dire straits,” said Miror B.
“Serves you right! Now, what have you done to Plusle?” said Rui angrily.
“I haven’t done anything to him!!” cried Miror B in protest.
“How could you… wait, what? So why did you kidnap him?” Rui asked, surprised.
“Look, I didn’t want to get involved in this! I just wanted a place to be able to dance in peace! All those people in the other regions kept on bugging me for autographs, and free hugs, and a piece of my hair… it was too much! I travelled to this region, ended up with this job here, and before I knew it, I was in charge of all this! Then I was ordered to get the upper hand over Duking all of a sudden, and what could I do? I was told to kidnap that Plusle, to keep Duking quiet.”
“Wait, you didn’t really want to be a part of this?” asked Wes.
“Well, not initially, no,” admitted Miror B, “and I still don’t. But the set-up was oh-so-lovely!”
“So then,” Sherles said, scratching his head, “if you want out of this, why not turn yourself in? We can get you a greatly reduced jail sentence if you come willingly and help us,” he offered.
“What? No no no no no! I still think I have a chance!” defended Miror B. “After all, first you’ll have to find me within the cave! And I assure you, you’ll have a hard time getting through there with all of my guards to get by!”
“Whatever – your loss,” said Wes.
“Oh, confident are you?” asked Miror B amusedly. “Maybe this will make you think twice!” Miror B danced off the screen for a moment, and appeared again with a radio in hand.
“W-What are you going to do?” asked Rui, taking a step back.
Wordlessly, Miror B opened a slot in the radio, inserted a tape, and closed it, before he hit the play button. Music blazed from the radio instantly, with an all-too-familiar tune. Smiling mischievously, Miror B began singing.
I want to be the very best,
That no one ever was,
“Es. Pi. On.” (Oh. GOD. No.)
To catch them is my real quest,
To train them is my cause!
“Make it stop!” shouted Rui, clutching her head to try to block out the sound, but to no avail. Even Ferma and Reath in their mind-wiped state seemed to flinch.
I travel across the land,
Searching far and wide,
Each Pokémon to understand,
The power that’s inside!
Just before Miror B got any further with the song however, Tom came charging into the room.
“More any not mich too fir stood up with hiss I not will! Die singing this!” he shouted, as he picked up a book titled ‘Dancing and You! How to dance the steps to the top!’ from a bookshelf and hurled it at the screen.
“NO! That’s my book – no, not the tel-” Miror B shouted, just before the book made contact and split the screen into a million glistening fragments, the music breaking off into a violent shatter. Rui slumped to the floor and gave a sigh of relief.
“Tom, I don’t usually say this,” Sherles said, “But… thanks – I’ll buy you a round for this!”
Tom’s face brightened up at this, seemingly forgetting his terror just moments ago. “Goody! Maybes cans I haves the stuffis froms… heoptin? They hive a verys good wine there…”
“Um, sure,” answered Sherles.
“It tastes like yellow!” Tom continued brightly. “It had a name.... I knows! It was called Jimbo the hippotootomas. No, what, it was...” struggled Tom, trying to get his tongue around the difficult yet irrelevant word. “Hi... hip... hippietopotnyus! Hyperjelotomus! No, th it’s nit sit...”
“Anyway,” Wes said, taking deep breaths in an attempt to recover from the recent ordeal. “We’d better move on then and stop him. And get Plusle too,” he added.
“Yes, let’s,” Sherles agreed. He turned to Reath and Ferma. “You two – you are to lead the way to Miror B’s hiding place.”
“Yes,” they droned.
“H...H...Hypotenuse!”
“Ok then – Wes, Johnson and Rui, you go ahead and confront him with Espeon. Brainwash any guards and send them up here, I’ll arrest them.”
“Espeon.” (Fair enough.)
“Hang on Sherles, I’ve just had a thought,” interrupted Wes. “Ferma and Reath, do you have any Shadow Pokémon? If so, hand them over.” To Wes’s delight, the two nodded, and handed two Poké Balls from their belts to Wes.
“Good thinking, Wes,” praised Sherles. “We better do the same for any other guards we encounter - after I arrest them, of course.” Sherles then turned to Silva. “Silva... just stay there for the time being.”
“No fair! I want to help!” protested Silva, getting to his feet, only to clutch his ankle and yelp in pain. “Fine then,” he grumbled.
“Hyperbolela! Heppolehitutas!”
“Tom, go home,” Sherles ordered shortly.
“Yay! Homey, tasty hippo! Hi hose, Hi hose, it’s off to home I go!” he chanted, walking out the door.
“Sherles, are you sure…” began Rui, as distant shouts of ‘Home!’ could be heard from below.
“Oh, he’ll be fine. I end up dealing with him a couple of times a week,” Sherles said offhandedly. Wes had his doubts about Tom’s ability in getting home - after all, he had stumbled here mistaking this place for his house. But now wasn’t exactly the time to worry about that, I suppose.
“Let’s keep moving,” said Sherles. “The sooner we get Miror B, the better. Besides, we don’t want him to hurt Plusle. We need to bring him down as well - he knows something about some Nascour guy, so it’s of utmost importance!”
“Yes, let’s get a move on,” agreed Rui, thinking back to the singing she had just experienced. The four turned to make for the cave, with Ferma and Reath left to follow against their will. Just as they approached the door however, a large figure appeared by the door frame.
“Ok, I’ve thrown those rascals into jail now,” began the figure. “There was the drunk stumbling down the stairs as well, shouting about going ‘ova da Mountain’ or something. I let him be. Anyway, any more for me to… Silva?”
“Oh, hi Duking,” began Silva weakly.
***
“Hey there! Yes, you! Stop now, or I’ll-” began a guard, before he conveniently lost the ability to speak, along with the ability to remember who he was.
“Yes, very nice,” Wes said offhandedly. “Please proceed to the cave entrance, and get arrested by Sherles. Then follow his instructions.”
“Yes,” droned the now tame guard as he obeyed Wes’s commands.
“Good work, Espeon,” Wes said as two more guards they passed followed suit.
“Ess, Espeon,” (Oh, it’s nothing, you’re welcome,) Espeon replied offhandedly as they ploughed deeper into the cave, following Ferma and Reath who were forced to lead the way. Umbreon merely rolled his eyes.
“Well, luckily for Silva, Duking didn’t bite his head off,” said Rui.
“He had been trying to help him,” agreed Wes. “Just… maybe not quite in the right way. Wonder what would have happened if we didn’t find the gear anyway? Oh, you - cave entrance - get arrested - obey Sherles,” Wes told to another immobilized guard.
Wes, Rui and Johnson - still oddly quiet, Wes noted - continued on their way down a steady slope into the maze of large winding cave paths, following the two women lead the way to Miror B. The pathway was illuminated by many small torches hung on the wall, lighting up even the furthest corners of the hideout. Occasionally Wes and Rui encountered a staircase, some which they went down, and some which they ignored. All the while Wes ordered guards back in the opposite direction to Sherles and Duking with Espeon’s assistance. This process went on for a good twenty minutes or so, until Rui began to wonder if they were going the right direction.
“Oh look - water now,” commented Wes as they climbed up a staircase, to have an array of bridges - some broken - greet them. The bridges spanned over a large underground lake of surprisingly blue, clear water. Wes guessed it was the town’s water supply.
“Umbreon!” (There’s more water here than Phenac City!) remarked the Pokémon. Wes had to agree - despite the large resources of water the city had to boast to run over fifty-odd water features, there was a mass of the stuff right here as well. It must have been how Croconaw had been able to get the water to use for a Surf attack as well earlier.
“Hang on - can you hear that?” Wes asked. Rui stopped for a second, and then grinned at Wes.
“That’s Miror B’s music!” she exclaimed. Wes nodded absentmindedly.
She has a nice smile, he thought.
“Wes?”
“What? Oh, yes, let’s, ah, move on,” Wes swiftly said before moving on.
As the two moved onwards, crossing the bridges and sending more guards back the way they came, the music slowly got louder, and before long they found themselves in front of a lone cave entrance, the music louder than ever.
“Al right - you two can go back to Sherles now,” Wes said, as Ferma and Reath obediently turned and left.
“Espeon?” (Couldn’t we have had some fun and give them a quick swim beforehand?)
“There’s no time for that, Espeon - it’s time to deal with Miror B,” Wes said, before taking a big breathe. “Ready, Rui?”
“Yep.”
“Well, let’s go.” With that, the two walked in and gradually approached a large door. Wes peered through a keyhole. Although it was hard to see, he could make out the shape of Miror B dancing upon a raised platform in the middle of a large spacious room. Dancing with Miror B were two other forms that appeared to be the duck-like Pokémon Ludicolo. The Pokémon had wide beaks, a yellow-and brown zigzag pattern on a large part of their bodies, and sporting festive-looking hat upon their heads, similar to the leaf that Lotad bore. They were keeping up to the pace of the music and seemed to dance effortlessly, despite having short, stubby, green legs and a chubby, pineapple-like body.
“The door’s open!” Miror B said suddenly, continuing to dance.
“Eh, how did you know we were here?” Rui asked as they warily walked in.
Miror B motioned to a small screen by a wall, showing Espeon and Umbreon stroll in after them. Wes turned around to see a video camera pointing at their previous position.
“Oh.”
“Where’s Plusle?” Rui asked.
“He’s fine, I assure you! I must admit, you kept me waiting for a frightfully long time, my darlings! So I decided to work up a little sweat while dancing,” he said, as he pulled out a remote from his pocket and reduced the volume of the salsa music that was previously blazing from a radio. He ushered the two Ludicolo near to him, as they quacked in response and took a protective stance around him. “I must say, I do wonder how you got here with such ease, and how you persuaded Ferma and Reath to help you… I’m disappointed in them - I was going to give them a raise as well, despite their ineptness at dancing!”
“You want to know what we did to them?” Wes asked. “This. Now, Espeon!” he shouted.
“Espeon!” (Your mind shall be wiped!) he said grandly and confidently, before using the transmitter and sending out a wave of energy. It dissipated around the room and hit Miror B, who looked surprised at this move. A moment passed.
“What was that?” Miror B asked finally.
“What?” asked Wes in shock. “How come you aren’t… any idea why, Espeon?”
“Espeon! Espi…” (It doesn’t make sense! Hang on, give me a sec…) Espeon said, before sending out a much smaller wave of energy that once again engulfed the room.
“Espeon! Espi… Esp?” (Hang a tick… Miror B has something that’s blocking the signal! And it seems to be coming from… his hair?) Espeon asked incredulously.
“Something from his hair is blocking the signal?” Wes asked blankly.
“Umbre!” (I told you there’s something about his hair!)
“Something in my hair? Never! It must be something odd with your Poke- hang on,” Miror B mumbled as he stuck a hand in the aforementioned afro. “Hey, what’s this?’ he asked, as he pulled out a black object.
“That’s the Itemfinder Secc made! But how does he have one?” wondered Rui.
“Espeon, Espi!” (It appears that Johnson’s one is missing - but that means he’s been under my control all this time to a degree!) Espeon suddenly cried, before sending another pulse of his Confusion attack into Johnson. Johnson suddenly sprang up straight, and looked generally confused about his current location.
“Johnson, where’s your Itemfinder? Did you lose it?” Wes asked, dreading the answer he though Johnson would give.
“Oh course not! It’s in my pocket, right…” Johnson started, rummaging into a pocket. Then he froze, and forced a smile. “Uh... Oops.”
Wes slapped his forehead. “So you’re telling me that you lost it, and now Miror B has it?”
“Wait - you’ve been brainwashing my guards?” asked Miror B, putting the pieces together. “How frightfully… awful!”
“Hey look - it’s Miror B! I, Johnson, shall take him out!” Johnson proclaimed, charging at Miror B who was upon the platform. Just before making contact, Miror B stylishly danced to the side and dodged his charge, and sent him flying off the platform with an elegant sway to the side.
“Fufufu… nobody is going to get at me with my dance steps!” remarked Miror B.
“Great,” muttered Wes. “If he gets past us he can make a run for it! Espeon, have you tried taking out the Ludicolo?”
“Espeon! Espi Espi! ” (You think I haven’t already? I don’t think this works too well on Pokémon, and they’re close to him as well!)
“Well, I can tell you, if you want to arrest me, you’ll have to challenge me to a Pokémon Battle. Seems fitting - your Pokémon against my Ludicolo. It’ll be a lo-ver-ly finale, that I can assure you!”
Well, we’ll just have to beat him the old fashioned way, Wes thought. “So,” he began to Miror B, “may I ask before we battle - what is with your hair anyway? And your name?”
Miror B laughed at the question. “Fair enough - I got that a lot already. Well, my name came about as a typo when it was written by some inept person on my birth certificate - instead of ‘Mirror Ball’, it ended up missing an ‘r’ in ‘mirror’, and ‘Ball’ - my family’s last name, was shortened to B. For some reason or another, it never got changed back.”
“But… why would your parents name you Mirror Ball?” Rui asked with a frown.
“That… I still don’t know. I think they thought it funny or something. As for my hair - well, strangely enough - it’s natural.”
“N-Natural?” asked Rui uncertainly, eyeing the red and white ball of hair.
“Yes, even the hair colour, and the equal divide of the two colours. It’s true!” he cried, noticing that Wes and Rui didn’t quite seem to believe him. “It’s a rare hair condition I was born with - so I decided to make the most of it and turn it into an afro! It is, as you can see, plainly afro-tastic!” Wes and Rui cringed at the joke - Johnson on the other hand, laughed at it.
“Please don’t say that again… and what’s with the music?” Rui asked.
“Umbre.” (Good music, may I add.)
“Well, it all began a long time ago, when I was little. See, I had…. Hang on, I feel a song coming on!’ Miror B exclaimed.
Wes and Rui quickly backed off towards the exit.
“No, it’s not the song I did before!” pleaded Miror B as he inserted a tape into the radio and began switching songs. “That was just me warning you not to take me lightly. This is a spur of the moment thing - hopefully it’ll come off.”
“Oh… fine,” gave in Wes, before leaning to Rui. “If it’s that other song, cover your ears and run - I’ll rather he gets away than endure another rendition,” he whispered.
“Good,” answered Miror B happily, finding the song he wanted and pressing the play button. Wes immediately recognised the tune, as a worker in Team Snagem used to play it over and over again while Wes was working there. It started to get annoying after a while, but the song was pretty good, despite the treatment it received at being played over and over again, much like the over-usage a song often got on the Orre Radio station - the only working and active station which took to playing the same three songs of the month repeatedly.
However, the words were different this time, as Miror B started to sing and incorporate a dance routine to boot - even his two Ludicolo joined in.
I remember when, I remember, I remember when I bumped my head,
When I tripped and fell down a flight of stairs.
I had been running to get to dinner,
in record time.
And, at the time,
when I fell,
From my dad’s stereo,
This addictive salsa beat was playing through the house,
And then I blacked out.
Mum rushed like crazy,
She thought I’ll turn crazy,
Would I become crazy?
Possibly.
Luckily I awoke but there was something not quite right,
For I needed, to hear a marvellous beat.
I’m afraid, said the doctor, that you have, that you have, that you have an sickness,
What? What? What? Asked my mum - he said,
He can’t endure no music.
Now,
Normally I’m not crazy,
Music stops the crazy,
I have not turned crazy,
Music’s my remedy.
My heroes were the kind, that break-danced on T.V.,
And all I remember is thinking, I wanna dance like them,
Ever since I was little, ever since I was little I’ve been dancing for fun,
And I’ve been listening to these tunes since I bumped, my head,
And I can dance when I'm done.
But maybe I'm crazy,
Maybe you're crazy,
Maybe it’s just me,
Probably.
At the end of the song, Miror B spun thrice, and struck an unorthodox pose, with his two Ludicolo joining with a loud ‘quack’.
“That was… good!” remarked Rui in surprise.
“And I came up with it on the spot!” claimed Miror B, before quickly changing the song to a quiet and calming tune. Wes wasn’t sure if Miror B’s song had been inspired right then and there, as the choreography was a bit too good to be true.
“So, basically, you bumped your head, and developed another rare condition, meaning that you have to listen to music, or you start acting up.”
“Yes, that’s another less entertaining way of putting it… and because of it, I decided to get by with it the best I can, with music, dance and my precious Ludicolo.”
Like dance contests, mused Wes, thinking back to the news article about Miror B that he found.
“I too bumped my head at a young age,” declared Johnson unexpectedly. “Only, I don’t think I suffered any ill effects…”
All in the room exchanged glances.
“But that’s enough of this stalling - I shall proceed with my last frantic dance. I say - let the music play!” cried Miror B, changing the song and hitting the play button, before striking a pose.
A different, yet still enjoyable disco-themed music started playing.
“What, wait, that’s the wrong song…” mumbled Miror B, fixing his error. Soon enough, the previous and familiar salsa music blazed from the radio. “Aha! That’s it! Let the music play!”
***