“All right, buddy, remember the rules?” Helga looked down at her nephew expectantly.
“Um…” replied Conrad as his eyes wandered the dojo. He reached his hand under his blue suncap, worn backwards, and scratched his head. He then looked up at the young woman, frowning. “Uh, I forgot.”
“Come on, we just went over them on the way over here.” Helga raised her hand, clad in a navy blue fingerless glove, and held up three fingers. “There were three.”
The little boy’s eyes, brown like his aunt’s, lit up as he suddenly remembered. “Oh yeah!” Holding up a finger, he started reciting, “One: No running into the ring while our Pokemon are training.” He held up a second finger, continuing, “Two: No bothering other trainers or their Pokemon.” He then held up a third finger. “And three…” he trailed off, looking back up apologetically. “Sorry, Aunt Helga, I forgot number three already.”
“Three: Have fun!” the woman finished, playfully rubbing Conrad’s hat into his messy brown hair.
“Hey!” the youngster exclaimed with a giggle as he readjusted his cap. He then reached into the pocket of his shorts, dark blue with a white stripe, and pulled out a repeat ball. “Okay, I’m gonna let Blitz out to play now!” He grinned, a small gap in his teeth visible. His aunt nodded her approval, and he threw the ball.
“Rhy!” Blitz exclaimed as he emerged from the repeat ball. The Rhydon’s diaper, orange and yellow with a little black, matched the pokeball’s pattern.
Helga quickly tightened the orange tie securing her blonde hair into a hightail, then took out a fast ball and threw it. “All right, Swift, time for some training!”
“Foo!” cried the Meinfoo as she appeared next to her trainer. The fighting Pokemon wore a pull-up that, while similar in color scheme to the Rhydon’s, more closely matched the pokeball she had come out of; incidentally, this also matched the colors of her trainer’s top and shorts.
“Swift and I will go first to show how it’s done,” Helga stated, “then you and Blitz can have a turn, okay?”
“Okay!” Conrad exclaimed excitedly.
Pointing to the punching bag suspended over the center of the sparring ring, the battle girl commanded, “Now, Swift, use Jump Kick!”
“Mein-foo!” Swift cried as she recklessly threw herself at the punching bag, leg outstretched. Unfortunately for the little fighting-type, she missed the bag, sailing right past it to crash into the padded bumpers lining the far wall. Dizzly standing up, the Meinfoo moaned, “Mei mei…” She waddled back over to the others, her pull-up looking to be wet after that mishap.
“You’re okay,” Helga said, patting her Pokemon on the head. Turning to her nephew, she explained, “Our Pokemon are more gung-ho than other members of their species, so some of their attacks hit harder than they normally would. Unfortunately, that includes the damage they do to themselves when they miss.”
Conrad didn’t respond at first, being too busy messing with the velcro on his blue-and-white shoes. He eventually looked up, saying, “Ok. Can Blitz go now?”
Sighing, Helga nodded. “Yeah, go get ‘em, little buddy.”
The little boy’s face lit up as he turned to his Pokemon and boldly commanded, “Blitz, do Supersa Slam!”
The rock-type looked at his trainer in confusion as he intoned, “Don-don?”
Helga, who had been sipping from her water bottle, suddenly choked, spraying water all over her navy blue shoes as she spluttered and laughed. “It’s ‘Supercell Slam,’ buddy!” she eventually managed to get out between coughs.
“Oh, ok,” Conrad replied as he pressed the peeling band-aid on his face back into position. “Do Supercell Slam!’ he corrected, pointing emphatically at the punching bag.
“Rhyyyyy-DON!’ Blitz yelled out as he wildly dove forward, crackling with electricity. The heavy Pokemon’s entire body squarely hit the bag, knocking it off its chain and sending it to the far wall in a blast of lightning. “Rhy-rhy-RHYDON!’ he yelled triumphantly, standing back up.
“That’s so cool!” Conrad yelled, jumping up and down excitedly. His yellow-and-blue shirt flapped up and down, briefly causing the yellow waistband peeking out from the top of his puffy shorts to become visible.
“Good job, Blitz!’ Helga praised the Pokemon, giving him a thumbs-up.
Her nose wrinkled as she suddenly caught a whiff of a sharp stink. She looked down at Swift, who immediately shook her head. The trainer then discreetly checked her own pull-up. Nope, still clean, thank Arceus. Blitz didn’t particularly look to be messy, either.
Helga went over to her nephew and put a hand on his shoulder. She leaned down, whispering, “Hey, bud, did you poop?”
“Yeah,” he whispered back matter-of-factly. “I had to fart, but then I pushed too hard, and I started pooping.”
Somehow managing not to crack up at his frankness, Helga straightened up and patted the young boy on the head. “Well, you go ahead and finish doing that.” She turned to their Pokemon. “Looks like we’re takin’ five, guys.” Inwardly, she chuckled. Or taking ‘two’, I guess.
