AN: We're sorry, the sequel to Spearow's Adventure is not available at this time. It will be ready around July 202... What do you mean, it's ready now? Bleeping Ridiculous Procrastinators and their timelines. She said it would be ready in 2024, but is it? No. Though 2011 is actually way before schedule.
Okay, so here's the sequel to Spearow's Adventure. This is Revenge of the Narrator, which is Exactly What It Says On The Tin. The Narrator... gets revenge!
Warning: Contains a Narrator. But you already knew that, didn't you?
In a land far away (well, ocean) on the cruise ship S.S. Tidal (told you it was an ocean), the ballroom was full. Of passengers, of course. Just imagine what it would be like if it was full of cargo or luggage! There'd be nowhere for gnomes to do polka!
Just pretend it was never mentioned. It's better for your sanity.
Right. Among the passengers were two Team Rocket agents. They were on paid holiday. Lucky bleeps.
Ash Ketchum has a fancy suit on, and his wife Misty wore a green gown. The Narrator will not give you any more detail because the Narrator is busy.
"'Drop A Cow', eh?" the Narrator murmured, turning back to the computer screen. Yes, the Narrator has a computer. Get over it.
Thought, to be specific, it's a laptop. More portable.
"More like drop a- Hey! Readers should not eavesdrop on the Narrator!" the Narrator yelled.
None of the characters heard this because they don't know there's a Narrator in the first place. Except Pikachu, though it was sleeping in a cabin and didn't hear a thing. The Narrator really needs to kill that rodent because no one can get away with attacking the Narra-
The music began and all the couples started dancing. It was bleeping 'romantic' music. Which always makes the Narrator feel a strange urge to steal a large quantity of nuclear bombs and blow them up to try and stop the torture. Love songs are worse than Vogon poetry, and we all know how bad that is.
Well, anyway, the band was playing sappy love songs that were so sickeningly sweet that the Narrator believes a diabetic could get a lethal overdose of sweetness by listening to just one of them.
Please excuse the Narrator while the Narrator vomits.
It wasn't long before the dancefloor was filled with colour. The Narrator watched from above as dancers spread out, twirling everywhere, waiting for a chance to drop a [spoiler!] on Ash.
By the way, the Narrator was not using Standard Narrator Superpowers to levitate. Even though it's possible. Why bother floating in midair when it takes so much less effort to hang from a ch-
Okay, not you've done it! The Narrator warned you not to eavesdrop! Let's see how you like looking into the business end of the bazooka!
...Wait, they're here! Ash (and by extension, Misty) was/were (Depending on if it should be a plural or not. Why is English so weird?) directly underneath.
The Narrator pulled out a knife and sliced the cable holding the-
The Narrator is unsure if it would be a good idea to have the Reveal of the instrument of Ash's demise now.
...You're dying of curiosity? The Narrator will reveal it later, then. Oh, and it's not a musical instrument, if that's what you're thinking.
-holding the object to the ceiling.
The formerly-candle-powered light-emitting object hanging from the ceiling, which actually has a name for the type of light-emitting object it is (most definitely not 'lightbulb') plummeted down towards Ash.
The screaming of the other dancers alerted Misty to the danger. She alerted Ash to the threat to his personal safety. And the object managed to avoid being affected by normal physics.
'This seems familiar...' Ash thought as the chandelier (the Narrator finally stopped avoiding the word) fell.
The ship suddenly lurched to one side, throwing Ash out of the way (Misty had escaped earlier, because she isn't stupid enough to stand still while something's falling towards her), while sending the Narrator flying (not the good kind, either) into a wall. The Narrator would have hit the wall if it wasn't for the fork grappling hook the Narrator used a second before impact. As it was, the force of hitting the wall was lessened. Slightly.
Yes, the Narrator regularly carries cutlery around. Get over it.
The chandelier crashed through the floor. As well as the one below.
And the one below that...
And the one below that...
And the one below that...
And all the way down to the hull of the ship. Of course, it went through that too.
Water started spurting through the hole in the ship.
People ran around in circles, screaming "The ship is sinking!" as the ship sank slowly towards the bottom of the ocean, dragged down by all the water that had found its way in.
Gravity does that.
Usually at 9.81 metres per second per second, or 9.81ms-2. Though physicists are lazy and usually round that to 10ms-2. Because that's the force of attractiveness (innuendo not intended) of the planet, also known as gravity. Which makes things fall to the ground. Like the chandelier, which was being pulled towards the centre of the earth as fast as it could go, a speed known as terminal velocity, smashing a hole in the ship as it went, causing it to sink slowly towards the bottom.
This note brought to you by the Department of Redundancy Department.
Because it was redundant.
That message was brought to you by Captain Obvious.
By the way, crashing into walls hurts.
And that message was brought to you by the Narrator, who found out first hand. It's almost as bad as electrocution.
And that message had absolutely nothing to do with the gravity of the situation.
The Narrator decided it had played around for too long.
It was time to get serious.
The Narrator searched its pockets for a weapon.
Knife... dropped it then the Narrator crashed into the wall.
Fork... still hanging from the ceiling out of reach. And the Narrator is too lazy to try to get it back.
The other 133 knives... doctors appointment, saving the world, partying, playing video games, on holiday, driving lessons and many other similar excuses.
Bazooka... lost. Again. Bleep.
Nothing for it. Time for the secret weapon.
The Narrator pulled out its last remaining weapon. No, not another chandelier. Or Mewtwo. Or a fork handle. (That last one can't kill anyone, anyway.)
"Time to die, Ash Ketchum!" the Narrator screamed, advancing on said character, weapon raised.
Ash turned and saw the Narrator for the first time in his life. He then looked at the weapon the Narrator was holding.
"Is that a spoon?" he asked, staring at the spoon in the Narrator's hand.
Yes, the Narrator has hands. Get over it.
"There is no spoon," Misty replied, not even looking at the Narrator.
Someone's Genre Savvy. Or, rather, meme-savvy. Or maybe she's played WarCraft III and used the infinite mana cheat.
As soon as the words were spoken, the spoon disappeared.
"Awww..." the Narrator moaned dejectedly.
The water was now at waist level, and still rising steadily at a rather fast rate. Events don't take that long, really.
Ash had just noticed that there was water covering the floor. What an idiot. And slower than a Slowpoke.
Slowpoke take five seconds to feel pain. It takes a lot (of missing brain matter) to be worse than that.
'This seems familiar...' he thought again as the water level reached shoulder level. Despite the speed at which the water rose, that's actually a fairly long time for one thought to be processed.
"Ash! We've got to get out of here!" Misty screamed at him.
The Narrator took the opportunity to leave, utilising the 'breathe water' Standard Narrator Superpower to, you guessed it, breathe underwater. Narrators can also breathe in space. Okay, maybe not breathe as such, but definitely survive in the vacuum of space. For as long as they feel like it.
The Narrator swam out of the ship, leaving Ash and all the other passengers to their DOOM!
Because DOOM! is so much better than ordinary doom.
Just as the Narrator was congratulating itself on a job well done, some heads burst out of the water. One of them belonged to Ash. Another one also belonged to Ash, this time with the added advantage of being attached to the rest of his body.
The first that Ash owned was Pikachu, who 'belongs' to Ash in the same way people 'own' cats.
"How the bleep did he survive?" the Narrator muttered.
Still relatively kid-friendly. Really.
More objects (and heads, most of them still attached to bodies) floated to the surface.
"There's the bazooka!" the Narrator cried happily, picking up the (somehow floating) bazooka and hugging it tightly. Maybe a bit too tightly, causing the bazooka to temporarily borrow the Narrator's self-healing Standard Narrator Superpower to return to its original shape.
Happy reuniting scene over, the Narrator pointed the bazooka at Ash.
But, before the Narrator could fire the bazooka, a Gyarados reared out of the water.
'This seems familiar, too...' Ash thought, while everyone else swam away screaming.
Spot the smart people. Shouldn't be too hard.
If n is the total number of people, n-1 equals the number of smart people.
...Feel free to ignore that last bit.
The Gyarados chased after the people swimming away, completely ignoring the fact that there was a much closer potential target.
The Narrator grinned, pointing the bazooka at Ash, who was now only facing one source of danger, to the Narrator's delight.
This was going to be fun.
The Narrator fired.
Alerted by the sound of a pretty large explosion (which was almost nothing compared to what was to come), Ash turned around just in time to see a rocket heading straight for him. He got the extreme close up view.
'This...doesn't seem familiar,' he thought, just before the rocket turned him into chunky salsa.
"BOOM! HEADSHOT!" the Narrator exclaimed gleefully, jumping up and down like an excited little kid.
The Narrator pulled out a bag of corn chips. Extracting one from the packet (with much less precision than the wording implies), the Narrator used it to scoop up some of the chunky 'salsa' that was all that remained of Ash Ketchum.
"Tastes like chicken," the Narrator said, eating the corn chip. "And stupidity."
"Oh, wow! So pretty!" Misty exclaimed from behind the Narrator. The Narrator spun around to find her with eyes sparkling in the way only anime characters (well, mostly) can manage.
Spot the fangirl.
She was gazing lovingly at a Tentacool. Naughty Tentacles, anybody?
Forget the Narrator said anything, then.
Oh, yeah. Misty survived.
...You know already? How did you find out?
Don't bother answering. The Narrator doesn't care, anyway.
Pikachu's head is floating over there. The rest of its body is nowhere to be seen. You know what that means?
"About time that tiny little rodent was dead," the Narrator muttered.
"Who are you calling a shrimp so small that he's dwarfed by the smallest particle in the entire universe?!" a voice yelled from a piece of flotsam that was just a speck in the distance. Though it was getting closer.
"The Narrator wasn't talking about you, shrimpcake!" the Narrator yelled back. Yes, the Narrator is a Third Person Person. If you hadn't figured that out by now, you're an idiot.
The flotsam increased speed and came closer still, eventually bringing the tiny bit of flotsam close enough for the Narrator to see a short figure wearing a red coat clinging to the pitifully small piece of junk.
The Narrator took the time to ponder why a certain Edward Elric, aka Fullmetal Alchemist, was on the S.S. Tidal, as opposed to Amestris.
Maybe alchemists holiday on the Pokémon world.
It's possible. Not very likely, but possible.
This discussion is not helpful to anyone.
Back to the thing mistakenly referred to as a plot.
"There's no logic to this!" Ash's ghost exclaimed.
"You keep out of this, you're dead," the Narrator said forcefully, firing the bazooka at the ghost.
Ash (or rather, his ghost) turned into chunky ghost salsa, proving Ash's complaint correct.
If you're getting worried by the lack of logic or something, just repeat after the Narrator:
"It's just a story, the Narrator should really just relax." (Though you should replace 'the Narrator' with 'I'.)
And if you need something less stressful to read, avoid My Immortal by Tara what's-her-name.
Spot the troper.
Or, even better, spot the tropes. There's at least five mentioned by name. As well as lots of others hinted at or described.
(Visit http://tvtropes.org/ for more info.)
Or, better still, make a drinking game out of it. At least it'll be better for your liver than the one for My Immortal.
Or TV Tropes' very own drinking game, the reason that TV Tropes Will Ruin Your Liver.
Alright, back to the story.
The Spearow was celebrating its reunion with its Trainer when-
Wait, wrong story.
"Not this again!" the Narrator groaned.
A text box popped up in front of the Narrator, saying that Pikachu had respawned.
On the S.S. Tidal.
The Narrator had to do something about this.
The Narrator dived down to find where Pikachu was hiding. After many seconds of searching (helped by the Standard Narrator Superpower of locating characters or items), the Narrator found Pikachu in a fairly large air pocket on the S.S. Tidal.
"Bleep," the Narrator muttered, pulling out the bazooka.
Suddenly, a paper aeroplane flew through the water (without dissolving... somehow) and hit the Narrator in the eye. The Narrator pulled the dry paper plane out, dragging bits of eyeball with it.
The Narrator carefully extracted the plane from the Narrator's eyeball.
The eyeball was most definitely not pulled out.
The Narrator is an experienced Save Scummer.
The Narrator unfolded the paper and read what was written on it.
"Fired?! You must be joking! Why would you fire the Narrator?"
The Narrator screwed up the piece of paper and threw it in the ocean, where-
Greetings! This is the new Narrator. Everything you have just read is a lie.
Here's what really happened, in a super-condensed flashback:
Ash and Misty got married, the Boss retired and left Team Rocket to them, they took over the world, Pikachu had a dye job and is now a PokéGod, and a new religion involving worship of shorts ap-
Here's the old Narrator back. Did you miss the Narrator?
Why did the Narrator have to be interrupted during the Narrator's daydream? It's not fair!
(Old Narrator, not new Narrator, by the way.)
Don't mess with the Narrator, unless you want to look down the business end of a bazooka.
By the way, that other Narrator won't be coming back. Bazookas are proof that there is no kill like overkill.
Someone tapped the Narrator on the shoulder. The Narrator turned around to see...
The other Narrator!
"The Narrator thought the Narrator had killed you!" the Narrator exclaimed.
"The Narrator got better," the other Narrator explained.
"Stop using third person!" the Narrator ordered. "The Narrator claimed it!"
"The Narrator could say the same to you," the other Narrator countered.
"And stop troping!" the Narrator demanded.
"No! The Narrator loves TV Tropes and wants to ma- Wait, said too much."
"The Narrator is TV Tropes' beloved! Not you!"
"Oh, go kiss your bazooka."
This fight only makes sense when you figure out that both Narrators are Third Person Persons (and can tell which one is which).
"DID SOMEBODY ORDER A LARGE HAM?" Major Alex Louis Armstrong yelled, striding into the middle of the confrontation.
"Why is he here?" the Narrator asked. The other Narrator shrugged.
"THIS HAM HAS BEEN PASSED DOWN THROUGH THE ARMSTRONG FAMILY FOR GENERATIONS!" Armstrong shouted, posing with the ham as his shirt did a disappearing act.
Both Narrators proceeded to ignore the alchemist.
The Narrator pointed the bazooka at the other Narrator and pulled the trigger. (For anyone who has trouble telling them apart, only one Narrator has a bazooka.)
"Not again..." the second Narrator muttered, accidentally quoting the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. An instant later, the second Narrator was turned into chunky salsa.
Major Armstrong left the area to find somewhere else to eat the scenery, as it was dangerous where he was, what with the missiles flying everywhere and all.
The Narrator (the old one, for anyone who couldn't figure out which one survived, despite the hints provided earlier for your convenience) took a look around.
"Ash Ketchum is the ruler of the world? When did that happen?" the Narrator demanded. "...And why is Pikachu blue?"
A lightbulb flashed above the Narrator's head a few minutes later.
"Maybe Pikachu's now a- Wait, shouldn't explain the joke."
A bright flashing light caught the Narrator's eye. Not literally, of course.
"'Church of Shorts'?" the Narrator read from the flashing sign. "Sounds like fun."
And so the Narrator wandered down to the Church of Shorts just in time for the nightly prayer meeting or whatever it is they do there.
"Hey! You're not wearing shorts!" a kid protested when the Narrator tried to walk in the building.
The Narrator looked down, saw that the kid was right, and grew a pair of shorts via Standard Narrator Superpowers. The Narrator was about to enter when it saw the kid's Pokémon.
And not just any Spearow. It was that Spearow. The Narrator's...
The Narrator started counting off on fingers.
The Narrator's third worst enemy!
"If you're not gonna go in, you can buzz off and visit the Church of Miniskirts. That's where all the weaklings go," the boy sneered.
"'Church of Miniskirts'? Sounds horrible," the Narrator replied, walking in.
"It is," the boy agreed. "I mean, they don't even wear miniskirts! They's rather make girls wear them!" He shuddered.
The Church of Shorts did not hold prayer meetings. They hold war meetings.
Church of Miniskirts.
The enemy's leader...
"Roy Mustang?" the Narrator asked, mildly surprised. Then the Narrator remembered something that totally explained him leading the Church of Miniskirts. "So he's onto his goal of making all women wear tiny miniskirts," the Narrator muttered.
"You know him?" one of the boys asked.
"The Narrator knows of him, yes. More importantly, the Narrator knows his greatest weakness."
The Narrator explained its plan to the boys. All they would need is a whole lot of Pokémon who could learn TM18.
And then... then they would eliminate the Church of Miniskirts for good! Whoops, that should have read 'For Great Justice!!!'
We apologise for the inconvenience.
And so the Church of Shorts rained on the Church of Miniskirts' parade. Literally... ish.
It wasn't exactly a parade. But they definitely had the rain.
Helpfully provided by Fracto Cumulo Nimbus, who likes to rain on parades.
Roy is somewhat of an expert in combuation chemical reactions. He can make things burn!
*gazes wide-eyed at pretty f l a m e s s s s*
Uh, sorry. Back to the explanation.
This reaction requires oxygen. Water (H2O) is not oxygen (O2). Water puts out fire.
So, now you know why Roy Mustang is useless when it rains.
The Church of Shorts was celebrating victory over its mortal enemy, the Church of Miniskirts, when Ash's ghost appeared in front of the Narrator, who was sitting away from the others. Despite being turned into chunky salsa last time. And the fact that this Ash only existed in a daydream.
The Narrator was so upset it picked up a nearby bulldozer and started chewing on it.
"Stuffing the bulldozer in your mouth would do little to help at this point," Ash's ghost noted.
"For a dead person you are talking too much," the Narrator retorted, pulling out the bazooka and turning Ash into white mist. It's like pink mist, but with ghost vapour.
The Narrator thinks it resembles volcanic ash.
Two Mudkip were sitting on a rock in the middle of a lake.
"Mud!" said one Mudkip.
"Kip!" finished the other Mudkip.
"Mud!" replied the first Mudkip.
"Kip!" the second Mudkip continued.
"Mud!" the first Mudkip responded.
"Kip!" the second Mudkip answered.
"Mud!" the first Mudkip countered.
"Kip!" the second Mudkip retorted.
"Mud!" remarked the first Mudkip.
"Kip!" said the other Mudkip.
And so they continued for the next half an hour. The Narrator just ran out of synonyms.