Major Author Notes. I don't own Pokémon – but I never bother to state that anyway. All these authors own themselves – except for Erin. Cos I own her cos she's me. The musical 'Hot Mikado' is based on 'The Mikado' by Gilbert and Sullivan, and as many of you may know, it was the musical of choice of the Wycombe Swan Summer Youth Project 2001 that Michelle and I were in. It's brilliant – soooo funny and I thought it would be fun to lift it into a group Pencilshippy thing.

Ages… whatever we are now:

Trish: 27

Dana: 21

Chris: 18

Kaz/Michelle: 16

Erin/Mia: 15

Rachel: 14

Pokepeeps are proportional around Ash and Misty being 15.

Kaz's birthday fic – horribly late of course -.- Gomen! It's Mia's fault for being born the day before (but a year after) you @.@ It's also my evil Food Tech teacher's fault.

*17/9/01* - but a tad late ^^;

:o)OOOO) (Weedle!!)


Truly Outrageous!

#2 – If you wanna know who we are…


The circular shaped Theatre and its car-park took up almost all of the by-street. Two teenaged girls hurried across the street in the non-existing British sunshine, trying to hold their small shoulder-bags steady as they bounced and threatened to slip off their arms. They were both wearing cropped dance leggings with large black tee-shirts, that were emblazed with white and red logo of: WYCOMBE SWAN SUMMER YOUTH PROJECT 2001 – HOT MIKADO. Both girls had their short hair scraped back off their faces, and fastened securely in place with numerous clips; their faces were clear of make-up, and they wore trainers on their feet.

          "Lunch at the Chinese?" huffed the shorter, lighter haired girl as they pulled the large glass doors apart and strode through the box office, into the Theatre foyer where a group of teenagers of all sorts had already started to assemble. The other girl nodded, breathlessly, and threw herself into one of the seats triumphantly.

          "Thank God," she groaned, slumping in exhaustion. "Thought we were gonna be late!"

            "Rina! Mitch!" greeted a nearby brunette, in an excited voice, rising from her chair and grabbing the shorter, still standing girl in a glompworthy hug. "I KNEW you two would get in as principals!"

            A tall brown-haired man watched the ten teenagers smugly, with his arms folded and an eyebrow raised. This will be my best show yet, he thought to himself, confidently.

          "Coach!" called a voice, startling him out of his reverie, and Drake stared at the teenaged boy who stood in front of him waving a red bound Hot Mikado script.

          "Ash, I'm the director, not a coach. You can just call me Drake." Ash sweatdropped.

          "Um yeah, kay. Draaaaaake?" he whined, "is there any kissing in this show?" Drake stared at him blankly.

          "Ash – you're a principal part – and we open in eleven days, and YOU HAVEN'T READ THE SCRIPT YET?" Ash cowered away from the red-faced man, but suddenly a slender raven haired woman in jazz shoes appeared, and patted Drake on the shoulder, seemingly calming him.

          "Ash, you play the part of Pish – the only characters that have to kiss on stage are Katisha, Ko-Ko, Nanki-Poo and Yum-Yum," the dance choreographer comforted. Ash stared at his script.

            "So not me?"

            "No Ash, not you." Ash bounded away happily, and Trish gleamed at the embarrassed director.

          "Er thanks toots," he mumbled, "dunno what I'd do without you."

            "Probably have to make up the dances yourself. And don't call me toots!" Trish called airily lifting a hand in a casual farewell as she walked slowly backstage, making full use of her tight-fitting dance leggings. Drake sighed, and ran his hand down his face to wake himself up, before doing a quick headcount of the thespians in the lobby.

          "Okay, where's my Nip-Hi?" he demanded, referring to the actress playing one of the heroine's sisters – namely Rachel.

          At that moment, in the slim blonde strutted, fashionably late, with her cropped hair flopping over her face, sunglasses and clothes not exactly ideal for dancing in. Cursing whatever vengeful god had lumped him with the so-far seemingly pathetic cast, Drake ushered the twelve teenagers into the auditorium.


"Okay, we have 11 days, and then 4 performances. You will learn dances, songs and entire scenes will be blocked. Your costumes will be sewn and the set will be built up from scratch. In 11 days. I know it sounds impossible, but I've been directing these for 9 years." Drake sighed as the teens stared at him blankly. "Okay, for those of you who don't know, I'm your director Drake. This is my assistant director, James," he announced, gesturing behind him to a man with shoulder-length lavender hair who twiddled his fingers and grinned. "This is Trish, your dance choreographer," he continued, and the woman from earlier beamed and clutched her clipboard to her.

          "This is Jessica," Trish took over, tipping her head in the direction of a tall woman who was frantically sketching something. "She'll design all your costumes. And this is Dana," she continued, gesturing to a young woman to her left, who waved enthusiastically, dropping her bundle of sheet music in the process. "Eh, she's going to be your vocal instructor," Trish sweatdropped before moving onwards. "This is Jim – he'll play the piano for us in rehearsals – we'll have a full live band for the performances obviously! Jenny here is with venue security, and oh yes, the technical team is also made up of young people, and here's their team leader," Trish smiled, singling out a young boy with purple hair. Erin made a peculiar sound, and the sandy-haired boy next to her gave her a strange look.

          "Okay so now why don't you introduce yourselves when I call your character name in the register," Drake practically commanded, staring around at the teens lounged in the red seats of the amphitheatre, the large stage looming bare and ominously ahead of them. "Nanki-Poo," he began, clearing his throat and readying his pen. A lanky boy with brown hair climbed to his feet.

          "I'm Gary," he sneered. Mia made a gagging sound and he shot her a look.

            "Yum-Yum," Drake continued. Mia, an American girl with short brunette hair and green eyes, leapt up, enthusiastically.

          "I'mMariabutdon'tcallmethatyoucancallmeMia," she babbled, blushing slightly before flopping down onto her seat while Gary clapped sarcastically.


            "Pops!" someone hidden giggled, and Drake groaned internally. A tall, broad-shouldered teenager with floppy, dark-green hair stood up, smiling.

          "I'm Tracey…"

            "Katisha" A light brunette with glasses got to her feet.

          "Karlie," she said simply, before sitting again.

          "Pooh-Bah." A tall, older boy stood up.

          "Hey, I'm Brock," he crooned, ignoring the younger girls sitting amongst him but paying very close attention to Trish, Dana and Jenny.

          "Pitti-Sing." Erin stood up, twisting the layered ends of her fluffy mousy hair around her finger nervously.

          "Hi I'm Erin. Or Riny, whatever." Dana stared as the short girl sat down; the role of Pitti-Sing involved a lot of heavy duty vocals, and she wondered if the required sound could ever come out of a girl so slight.

          "Peep-Bo." Michelle stood up, tucking her darker brown hair behind her ears and waving her hand slightly.

          "Hullo, my name's Michelle."

            "Mikado." A tall boy with dark hair and a Nicorette patch blatantly obvious on his upper arm stood up.

          "Hey, I'm Chris," he stated in a Scottish accent, looking over at Jenny with interest.

          "Pish and Tush." Two boys stood up- one dark-haired and one sandy-haired.


            "Richie," they individually smiled, before grinning inanely at each other and sitting down.

          "Nip-Hi." The fashionably late blonde whipped off her sunglasses and sheepishly stood up, subdued at the fact that everybody else had been sensibly dressed.

          "Rachel…" she smiled, before ducking back down.

          "And finally, Tuc-Loh," Drake said, clicking his register shut as a scrawny red-headed girl pulled herself up.

          "Hi, I'm Misty," she grinned.

          "Twelve principle parts…" Drake began, his voice in a thoughtful tone. "Eleven days. Two acts. Twenty-five musical numbers. It can be done. With hard determination, teamwork and lack of sleep," he cautioned. "But what do you say? Let's do it!"


The girls sat in the first row of seats, directly in front of the stage. The atmosphere was excited, and there was a real buzz of anticipation. Where the girls had spent the first half of the day with Dana, the male members of the principle cast (not including Chris) had been with Trish, choreographing and perfecting the opening number of the musical – 'We Are Gentlemen Of Japan'.

          And now they were going to perform this number in front of Drake and the girls. Gary, the hero of the plot, stood onstage staring broodily out at the endless sea of empty chairs. The auditorium could hold up to 700 people, and it was the custom of the Youth Project to be sold out on at least the Saturday night performance. Gary exhaled.

          "Ready guys?" Trish asked, shooting them a thumbs up from where she stood in front of the stage. She was answered by a chorus of excited whoops and cheers and smiled at the enthused boys. "Okay Jim," she signalled the piano player, "whenever you're ready!"

            The jazz shone through even with only the one instrument playing, and the boys picked up the beat instantly, moving to their positions on stage, lining up along the front edge.

          "Take it off!" Mia whooped from the audience, earning herself a severe glare from Drake. The boys launched themselves heartily into a snappy and fast-moving dance routine, whilst the girls looked on in wonder.

          "If you wanna know who we are!" they began to sing along.

"We are gentlemen of Japan.

Play trombola and jazz guitar

Come on, join in our own Big Band!" The music flared up, and they began moving around the stage more vigorously, confident in what they were doing.

          "Our dancing is so adept! We're swinging with every step! We're always so cool and hip!" they sang, sending the girls into spasms of giggles as they went into a chorus of 'dos' and 'dahs'.

          "If you think we all work on strings

Like a Japanese marionette

You don't understand these things

It is simply called etiquette!"

            Most of the boys had had their own solo line, and the girls, despite their raucous laughter, were actually quite impressed.

          "We're living our lives in song! We keep it up all day long! We want you to sing along!

            If you wanna know who we are, if you wanna know who we are, we are gentlemen… OF! JA! PAN! YEAH!"

            The girl whooped and applauded, amazed that such a thing had been accomplished in under two hours, especially w

ith those boys.

          "Did you like that girls?" Trish asked, innocently. "Good, cos Mia, Erin, Michelle, Rachel and Misty – you're coming with me to learn 'Five Little Maids'."

            "But what about me?" Karlie wailed, annoyed at being left on her own. Trish shrugged.

          "Keep Chris company – he doesn't come on till the very end."

            "Here's a better idea!" bellowed the eavesdropping Drake. "Learn your lines!"

            "Hey Kaz," Erin whispered as she was led away, "try and find out the name of the technical director for me, kay?"

            "Get real Rin," Karlie yawned, opening her script and crossing her legs. Chris stared after the disappearing girls dismally.

          "I'll do it!" he wailed. "Give me something to DO!"



Okay I know, that was boring, but necessary.

Christ this is a tad over-due.

Buy the Hot Mikado soundtrack – tis so cool! ^_^