"You!" Pokemon trainer Joey thrust a finger at the man who was standing beside a Dragonite at the riverbank on Route 30, taking a drink. The man turned to take a look at his assailant, his dark gaze glancing off the side of the youngster's indigo ballcap.

The dragon master cocked a muted red eyebrow, the same shade as his dull but fiery spiked hair. "Me?" He inquired amusedly, pointing at himself to indicate that he was the object of Joey's rambunctious shouting. His cape billowed in the breeze behind him, adding masterfully to the heroic effect of his stance.

"Yes, you!" Joey exclaimed. "You have a Pokemon, I have a Pokemon. Do you know what that means?"


"Yes! Wait, no! That means we battle! One on one, your Dragonite versus my Ratatta!" Joey folded his arms over his miniature, ten-year-old chest, very sure of himself and proud of his powerful Ratatta.

"A Ratatta?" The dragon master—whose name is Lance, in case you were curious, which you probably weren't—snickered, his mouth curling upward into a smirk. "This is almost as interesting as the time I posed shirtless for the May cover of Pokegirl!"

Joey gaped. "That was you? My sister was all over that issue."

"Yeah. There's a full-sized, mostly nude poster of me in that one, too." Lance stared off epically into the distance. "That was a good shot."

"Gross! My sister has that hanging by her bed!" Joey gagged, trying to swallow the fact that he was challenging the possible object of his sister's sexual fantasies.

"Is your sister hot?" Lance asked.

Joey wrinkled his nose. "Ew, not at all."

"Then I don't care," Lance said frankly. "Let's fight!"

"Finally!" Joey pumped his fist, still desperately trying to purge his mind of Lance in all his willy-nilly glory. "I'll have you know that my Ratatta isn't like any other Ratatta. It's in the top percentage of Ratatta," he boasted.

"Oh, really?" Lance feigned his impressed tone. In his experience as a Pokemon trainer, he had yet to encounter a remarkable Ratatta. "There's something of mine that's in the top percentage, too." He gave Joey a lecherous simper. "And it's not my Dragonite, if you know what I mean."

Joey clasped his palms over his ears in blatant irritation. "I don't want to know what it is or hear about it!" The young boy snapped.

A hungry glint slunk stealthily into Lance's eyes. "How old are you?" He inquired.

"Me? Like, ten or something." Joey had lost count. He wasn't very good at math, which was probably why he had only one Ratatta. Any more and he would have lost his mind trying to keep track of them.

Lance rubbed his hands together, wearing the stereotypical guise of a maniacal supervillian. "That's the perfect age," he chortled with the turpitude of a pervert. Joey thought he sounded like lemons. Lemons were very evil.

Gulping, Joey took a retreating step back. "P-Perfect age for what?" He stuttered.

"I love little boys like you," Lance purred.

"What—EW! You're a pedophile!"

"So? I'm the Indigo League Champion. Nobody knows or would particularly care," Lance shrugged.

"You should be arrested for trying to seduce underage boys!" Joey cried.

"I only seduce one underage boy. That's my boyfriend. He's fifteen."
"Yeah, but that's fifteen! Still illegal, but fifteen! I'm ten! I'll bet he's not even willing!"

"Oh, believe me. He's very willing."

"That's… that's so wrong!"

"Not to me! C'mere, you!" Lance reached out for Joey with his muscular hands, longing to fulfill his highly perverted and distinctly unlawful desires.

Shrinking away with blended disgust and fear, Joey backed into an obstinate tree, blocking any feasible means of escape. This tree! Joey realized, horrified. It's collaborating with Lance!

Pivoting around on his heel, he began to chastise the tree. "Stupid, stupid flora!" He yelled, beating his tiny fists against the trunk. "Let me get out of here! You're in my way!"

Unfortunately, in his eco-unfriendly rage, Joey had neglected to remember that Lance was still after him. Suddenly, he was hoisted off his feet, dangling quite a ways up in the air. Lance had collected him in his giant bodybuilder's arms and was squeezing him like a teddy bear.

"I've got you now!" Lance cackled in an antagonistic tone.

Just as Joey was about to scream for help, Policeman Keith—who had traversed to this river during his long and dangerous from Goldenrod City because he had sensed danger—burst from the underbrush with his Growlithe. "Lance, you are under arrest for being a creep!" He announced. "Now unhand that boy! His Ratatta is in the top percentage of Ratatta!"

"Oops. Crap," Lance cursed. "Foiled again!" Dropping Joey in his rear end roughly, Lance jumped on the back of his Dragonite, who had been slumbering up to this point. Lance's sudden weight startled it awake, glancing at the scene with bleary eyes and a disgruntled sneer. "Let's get out of here, Dragonite!"

Still half-asleep, Dragonite stumbled forward awkwardly with a growl, only to trip over a log that was conveniently placed there by the author for a sight gag. Flying headlong into the tree Joey had abused, Lance's temple smacked against the bark. He fell to the ground, unconscious, as his Dragonite soared away into the ashen sky without him.

Policeman Keith stared at Lance. Joey stared at Lance. They both stared at Lance. The only one who wasn't staring at Lance was Growlithe; it was too busy yapping at the departing form of Dragonite.

"Can I pee on him?" Joey whispered.

"Nope," Keith whispered back. He wasn't sure why they were whispering. "I think that's a

"Are you sure it's a felony?"


"Then how about we find out?"

"That isn't something you say to a policeman."

"Oh. Right."


Five hours later, Silver arrived at the Cherrygrove City Police Station to bail his boyfriend out of jail. The minute Silver entered Lance's cell to retrieve the concussive dragon master, Lance affectionately called him a "honey bun." Silver then promptly slammed the barred door, turned to the guard accompanying him, and angrily demanded a refund. Therefore, Lance was forced to stay the night without anybody's pity.

Still, that didn't matter much—upon pressure from the rest of the Elite Four, Koga disguised himself as a prostitute, lured away the guards, and then proceeded to slip away unnoticed to break Lance out.

Once Lance got home, Silver never heard the end of it.