Let me tell you a story. This is about a boy, a boy who wanted more than just the usual routine. He has always been arrogant, never doing what others do and taking his own route.
…..pfft, nah. This is the story of a lazy good for nothing who can't help but take a bet. No life lesson, no morals, all for some money. Meet Ty, and this is his bet.
Nuvema Town, 11:34am Spring
Ty moved around under the comforter of his bed, covered head to toe to protect himself from the sunlight cascading inside of his room. Why the hell were his shades open anyway? And that voice, damn that voice was annoying.
"Ty! Wake up you lazy excuse of a son!"
Groaning, he peeked out from his blanket. There stood his mom, furious. Her foot tapped on the wood floor and her hands were on her hips that signaled she was seriously impatient. "You were supposed to be awake three hours ago, you damn idiot. Now get out of bed and get dressed."
A groan was his response as he slipped out of bed after his mother left the room. Dragging his feet across the floor, Ty made his way to his closet, wearing nothing but a pair of plaid boxers. Slipping into some jeans and a slightly baggy shirt that said "I don't give a Sawk," of course with a picture of a Sawk underneath it, the boy groggily made his way downstairs.
"Oh thank god, Sleeping Beauty is awake." Anna Lee, his mother, sat at the table. A cigarette was smoldering in an ashtray as she held her glass of whiskey on rocks in her left hand. "I was afraid you'd be a useless bum for all of your life."
"Shaddup ya hag." Rubbing his eyes, he opened the pantry and pulled out the bread. "Not like ya raised me to be the perfect son." Which was only slightly true. Ty popped the bread into the toaster, rummaging in the fridge for some condiments. Today was the day he finally was able to get his first Pokemon. Of course, this was odd for him. Why? Because a beginning Trainer starts out when they turn ten years old.
Ty is eighteen.
"Well 'scuse me. While your father was out looking for some hoochie I had to take care of your sorry ass. And I hope those devils in hell are poking at his soul the way he poked all those women." Oh boy, great mental image there. Ty slathered Oran berry jam on his toast and took a bite. Yeah, his father never left. He just went out and slept with any woman that would sleep with him. At least he went out with enough under his belt before the heart attack. But what would you expect when you eat nothing but fast food since your smoker wife cooks bland food?
" 'ey, I don't blame Dad. If I was him I'd be sleeping with other women too." He snickered and grabbed the second piece of toast, walking towards the front door to slip on an old pair of running shoes he's had for nearly three years. "Well, best not ruin your celebration. Just don't drown yourself in booze, bitch."
"I'll make sure to sell all your shit, bastard."
Ty shut the door behind him and stretched, the air fresh with the scent of blooming flowers and fresh starts for the future…pfft, yeah. That last part was corny. Chewing on his toast, the soon-to-be Trainer made his way to the lab to get started with this whole ordeal.