As I lay dormant in my bed, recovering from another day of kicking donkey and general name-taking, raptor ninjas ninja'd into my room and assailed me as I rested.
I was in no shape to defend myself against these intruders after doing battle earlier in the day against assorted aliens and daemons; and the ninja raptors, weak as they were, overpowered me after a full three hours of furious, non-stop hand-to-hand combat.

Their goal was my laptop, and they managed to hack the password, and delete the 30 images documenting Sigmund's epic journey from Fortree to the Safari zone; all in the thirty seconds before I was able to turn the tables with my impeccable martial skill and suddenly recovered stamina.

Unfortunately, while my glorious, adonnis-esque body is capable of much, it cannot undelete files deleted by raptor ninjas in the dead of night.

The tale has been lost to all time, and a work of art truly lost.

I have no fudgeing idea what I did with them, I was fairly sure I saved them, but I might have deleted them by accident, thinking them processed images from "Part X-2 4: Electric Boogaloo 2: Rise of the Sigmund".
Oh well. Not a lot happened in that time, any way. Just grass. And rain. No pokemon of note, either.

It's like I just drank a pan-galactic gargle-blaster. One moment, I'm estatic with glee over my new badge, the next, I'm out in the middle of fudgeing nowhere.
It's vegas, all over again. Although, without the being buried in the sand bit, hopefully. That was not fun. Nor educational.

New Route, new pokemon sl- Friend.

As per expectations, I capture it flawlessly within my not inconsiderable balls.

Don't ask what the logic is behind this. Also much like Vegas, this section of the story is a barely-remembered haze of stumbling, ball-slinging and probably vomiting.

Ah, Baller is evolving. Like a bawse.

Baller now looks bad donkey. I should work on him, I suppose; he does need to be levelled, ready to put paid to... uh... I dunno. Fags that use metal types, I guess. Or magnetons.


Oh look, it's the pirates. Yar har, fiddle de dee.

Fortunately for me, they're more interested in this Mt. Pyre thing, so they leave me be. For once. I swear those wankers got nothing better to do than bother me.

I should probably follow them...

...right after I "talk" to these fine young ladies right here. With the only language I know how to use on hot females.


Well, that was fast. On her part, of course; being the gentleman that I am, I waited until after she was done to prematurely ejaculate.

Rare pokemon, huh? Safari Zone is it's own area, so I could catch a pokemon here. And my team is missing a flying type, after all.

Yesyesyes, show me the flying rare pokemon.

FUCK. NO. $500? Far too expensive. Make it cheaper, chocolatehead.


Alright, so apparently, it's not considered "acceptable" to "negotiate" admission fees for pokemon reserves with a pokemon. I would add this place to the chocolatelist, but I can't find my pen, and I'm not so mad that I can piss blood and use that instead.

Oh well. I'll stop here and look for the pen, hopefully I'll have found it before the next time wee meet.

And I'm back.
I wonder what that item is, I want it. For reasons totally not to do with the remote chance it contains substances for me to abuse.

Fuck. I can't get high off of this, nor use it.

Who designs roads like this, seriously? So inefficient! So hard to use! Not straight lines!

Ah. Lilycove city. Compared to other towns, it looks like less of a chocolatehole.

I stand corrected. It's a glorified beach. Oh well, time to wander and talk to people/things/myself.


Sounds interesting...

Oh. Now it sounds like a really poor bullchocolate-trap, I ain't having spoon to do with that trench. Hopefully.

Huh. Strange cave, huh? Could be profitable.


Well, I wouldn't download a pokemon, but apparently these people would.

YES

I FUCKING LOVE QUIZZES

YES, LOCK IT IN

FUCK YES I'M SHARP

GIVE ME THE BUXOM BABES AND/OR OBSCENE AMOUNTS OF CASH

GIVE PRIZE NOW

...

If I could find my chocolatelist pen, I would so put you down, bitch. Vengeance will be mine.



Wailmer training? Those pirates? HA!

Well, that's bad. Sailors and ships are the lifeblood of our region, you know. That's 68% of our GDP, right there.
Well. In the light of this potential, thirteen-trillion-dollar national fiasco, I put the hard questions to a nearby pirate.


Clearly, the man is brainwashed and will be of little help. I abandon my hastily acquired quest, and get on with the business of identifying molestables.

Who, me?

Ah, this would be the strange cave I heard about it earlier. But why should I listen to you, pirate?

Oh. Well that sounds totally reasonable.

Complying with the wishes of the pirate, I found this guy while ignoring the big cave in the harbour.


Very deep, I guess.



You must live under an old rock, and not heard that I hate chocolatety puns.
I really need my pen.


Okay, I can't ignore that cave any more. Too tempting. I want all of your fiscally liquidatable items, and I want them now.

Aw, shucks. For a moment there, I was sure he had money. I guess not.

No, I'm deaf and missed the 3 or 4 people who told me about it.




I like this old man. He thinks what I think. To a T. Har.

I depart, to go bother the pirates in their training of deep-sea mammals.


Your money or your life. Preferably the money, I can't sell life.

Fine. But I'll, like, return to fudge your spoon up.

Do ho ho ho. The cave. I'll look into it later, I've no mind to go surfing right now. Mt. Pyre in particular calls for my attention, what with those other pirates going there. This cave'll be here when I get back, I'm sure.


...most honeymooners just see the sights and have a chocolateload of sex in a foreign country... not that I'd know or anything.

Motherf-

I can't best this whore. She's too undeniably cheerful.

That's nice, I guess.

Spoon, SON

Whoa, calm down. I am not psychic. (Staples is, however. Not that he could tell us what the answer is, anyway.)

Uh oh, my spoon pun sense is tingling.

And there it is. So mad.

To piss the owner off, I block his view.

Ha.
Guess who I found?

I stuck my pocky in his ear, just for laughs. It was humorous. I also farted in the direction of his sleeping face.

That's candidate for obvious statement of the year, right there.


Time to admire my trainer card, I haven't done that for a while.

Who's a pretty boy, then?



Retail therapy. Just what I need.

...push through the pain, push through the pain, push through... *deep breath*
Look at this while I calm down.


Not yet, I'm not. Out of my way.

That's great, look at all the people who care. Now, out of my way!


I'll beat the spoon out of your pokemon, now move!

AAAAHAHAHAGH FUCK YOU

I DON'T EVEN CARE THAT I HAVE AN OPTION TO OPT OUT, NOTHING WILL SAVE HER FROM MY pocky OF JUSTICE AND DRY-RAPE... MOSTLY DRY-RAPE.

.
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.
.

So, the reason there's a bit of a jump is because the entire battle was a push over. Erhardt solo'd 4 of her team, the other two fell to significantly less notable but still quite strong members of my team. (Magnets and Staples, I think.)
I couldn't be arsed giving the donkey-kicking of such weak pokemon screentime. (And yet, I give screen time to all and sundry; what does that say?)


Yeah... I kicked your donkey then, too. Not as hard, but still pretty hard.

...I don't know if you can claim credit for that. That's like saying me breathing counts as credit for helping a forest stay alive.


Going to go and cry to daddy? Little BIRCH. Ha. hahaha.

Stay as far away from your dumb donkey as possible.

If it means I avoid you, yes.

Don't give a fudge, etc.
I can only catch one pokemon per route, anyway; you saying that's like challenging a quadraplegic to a no-holds-barred fistfight.


Crazy bitch.
On a positive note, I've calmed down and now posess considerably less rectalpain than before.

On my way back to the pokemon center...



It's nice to see I've achieved legend status in the 16 episodes I've done.

Ah yes, an "ART DEALER" *wink*

I too, partake of "ART"; not a fan of PAINTINGS, but certainly, SCULPTURES are my favourite. Especially when you cut SCULPTURES into thin lines and snort them up your nostril.

It occurs to me while taking a hit of some ART, that I could be fishing for a pokemon; it probably couldn't fly, but a wailmer would be useful.

Come on... come on...

I am crushed.

I'll leave it there for this post, part 16.2 will be up shortly.

Alright. I'm sick of this place already, time to go back to Mauville, I have things to do.

Time to put it to use.

Alright, so in theory, I could fly on a sparrow, but not on a bat? Maaaan.

I don't like this at all. Not. At. All.

Idea. Boat. Sail. Fast.

Thank god for chocolatety coastal regions.

[!]

nononononononnononono


GHAHGHAAAAR


You and me both. Now, about that whore on the dock...

Some time later...

By the time I get back to Lilycove, the heat should have died down.
First stop:


Well, alright, then. I think it evolves at 40, so I might be able to piggyback it to that point myself.




Wait... I just paid ransom for a magikarp.
...
It had better be worth it.

The fact that he can actually attack now is a plus.

Haters are going to hate.


Stop. Soda pop time.


Time for autofire-A and 500% speed.

I think I have enough soda pop, now.

Meanwhile, I find myself back at the trick house.

Not much to be said about this one.

Time for Mr. Fish to show us all what he can do.

...

Not worth it, IMO. He's got a full ten levels on these bitches and can't even do a half health bar of damage.

See that little dent in the healthbar? That's how hard Mr. Fish hits. Stupid pocky.


Alright, the secret password is...


I got to say. Trick master's ego is almost as big as mine by three... no, four places!

That's what I'm told.



Sure ye will, laddie, and I'm John McLane.

After trick master teleports into the ceiling, I take my leave. Odd guy.

Before I leave, just one more stop.



And I depart!

It'll take me some time to run back to Mt. Pyre, so I think wee'll leave it there for now.