Fandom: Pokemon: A boy and his electric rat journey to beat gym leaders, gather badges, become the champ, and blow their idiotic enemies out of the water once an episode.
Taunt: My fandom is like a cockroach. IT WILL NEVER DIE.
Ash was awakened in the wee hours of the morning by a strange sound. It almost sounded human—like a scream. In a panic, he attempted to vault himself from his sleeping bag, only to wind up face-down on the ground. There was a break in the action as half a dozen Spearows flew around his head, chirping loudly. He wondered for a moment if he could catch one.
Still, he shook off his dizziness and righted himself quickly. The birdies vanished. He heard Misty's voice nearby saying, "What is that?"
"I don't know!" he called back.
It didn't take them long to find the source of the disturbance, though. It was Pikachu—the little electric mouse was running around in a clearing near their campsite, flailing and waving and making all sorts of strange noises not native to the Pikachu species.
"Pikachu, what—" Ash started to call out, but he was cut off when Pikachu opened its mouth…and a stream of fire shot out, powerful enough to rival any fire Pokemon. It set a nearby tree on fire, a problem Misty quickly dispatched with a little help from Starmi.
They stared at the spectacle, unsure of what to do. Did Pokemon have midlife crisises? If so, why in the world was Pikachu trying to reimagine itself as a Charizard?
Ash started to walk towards Pikachu, but stopped when his foot bumped against something—namely a bottle on the ground. He picked it up and looked at the label…and got his answer.
Pikachu had a deeply rooted love for ketchup. That was perfectly fine.
But maybe he needed to teach Pikachu the difference between the ketchup…and the Tabasco sauce.
PS. For what it's worth, I am a big fan of the games. The anime I could take or leave, but it's far easier to write for. So here is my meager contribution. Thanks for reading, all! Much love!