ilikegengar
Member
The following pun story was written with all of the puns (about 478 of them) in bold type. it turns out the website does not keep the bold type when posting. so you can challenge yourself to find all the puns, or you can PM me and I'll email you the version with all the bold type. We hope you enjoy the folowing pokemon story. Thanks!
Pokemon Can Be A PUNishing Experience
It seemed incredibly farfetch’d, and even though I was just swampert with too much to do, I afforded myself the luxuray and was off to the Pokemon National Championship. I was skittyish about such a big event, and I knew I would have no chansey, but wynaut try since it was free, no feebasically. We would have to do something with our granbull-dog Poli, find a place for our hound-our not go. We found a neighbor willing to take our poochy-enabling us to go. So we left arcanine Poli-wagging her tail and you should have seen Poli-whirl as we were leaving, but I told the neighbor to make sure Poli-toed the line.
At Mary’s request I used a computer search to get the cheapest flight – big mistake naturally as I should have taken Steven’s advice. It was a rough flight over a stark mountain as apparently trying to reach a level maximum we went through a magnetic storm, a major windstorm from a high pressure system to a low pressure system. There was an energy ark as maybe a meteor falls from the sky, and in a conductive quarry an engine went full flame making me scared there would be a typhlosion. It was awvoltorbulent and lightning hit the plane like an electrode resulting in an elctabuzzing over the captain’s speaker. Could the wingull-timately fall off? The lights would skiploominating on and off. There was a flareon that burst resulting in vaporeon the ceiling. At least I knew it couldn’t be a bomb as now it was outside. I don’t think they did night maintenance or maybe Bill’s maintenance was bad, maybe from lack of Buck’s Training. At one point a double gust bounced us around like an arcade game putting all passengers in a fervor, and it felt like the plane ran over a giant stump, definitely did not seem aerodactylamically stable. There was the flight lieutenant surgeing from the cockpit and I was hoping they would not have to dump magcargo to lighten the plane. There was a lady cradily a baby who tripped and I tried to jumpluff but hit my armaldo I barely noticed. I should have taken Cynthia’s Guidance staying seated instead of trying to calm Cynthia’s feelings. The radio tower said the plane had vibravation problems. I felt like I was in a trap-inching along, just Delta supplying me with a free sandwich (at least better than Delta chargeing me), but with my barf bagon my lap we did flygon to Columbus, Ohio after we were wailord for 2 hours.
I took the night teleporter, an ugly bronzor dark brown bus, to the hotel. Every time he shifted it sounded like he ground a giratina bit. It was drizzling and his se viper blade squeaked terribly, so all I could think was to hope every agonizing milo tic off as fast as possible. We drove by big billboards with huge pictures of Le-bron zong them as this was Ohio, and we also drove by the Columbus (in bright moonlight) stadium. By the time we got there it was way past dusk-ulltimate darkness. As I checked into the hotel there was so much dust-oxygen was needed. I met-a-gross guy in the lobby – he was a purugly hom-brelooming over me and I left quickly. I also met-a-podgy man behind the counter. He told me the room would be cold but I couldn’t even wormadam cloak out of him, which burmy a little. Why couldn’t he give me DeShaw for Pete’s sake? He suggested I go to their gym challenge myself, but I was too tired. In my room I checked the tube for Pokemon shows – I went through the totodile. What a croc an awful bunch of choices, so I settled feraligatr wrestling narrated by tv reporters. There was even a hitmon channel – 100% violence including the hitmon top movie of all time. It was a cheap hotel, not much better than a tent-a-cruel way to save money. But it was way better than a tent-a-cool shower. It seemed to be a day where all I did was swinub stream, and I am a lousy Schwimmer. Even thought the heatran all night, I was still wearing my bubble coat and had the covers drapioned me. I turned off the light switch and hit the pilos-wineing that I would not get enough sleep and that it would be very hard to-marow-aking up as I driftblim-ly off to sleep.
In the morning I was drowzee and my sableyes were misty, but it didn’t matter that I couldn’t tell if it was neither dusknoir dawn from the lanturn attracting a mothim the room. When I had arrived I had no special conditions, but now my left arm was paralyzed from being asleep in the wrong position, my stomach felt like I had been poisoned, and I was confused being in a strange room, and that really burned me. I had been koffing and weezing all night and my stomach was tangela in a knot, likely the flucariover from home. I needed a big drag-on-air and zap dose of something stong. So I decided to munch-lax atives as a potion, but then had to make aron, actually a rapidash for the bathroom. It was aggronizing, but at least I felt better after I coughed up a lugia. I needed vigor-oth-erwise I might not make it. At the deli-birdbrain that I was for going there, I ordered a lati-as I needed caffeine to go,lem-on of course. I paid the bill as I don’t take charity. I ordered from the ledybaking sausage even though I was afraid I machoke on it. It looked so much like ash, ketchum or mustard was needed. I took gabite, but I didn’t nido-rancid sausage. It had so much pelipper on it I had to hold my nosepassing it into my mouth. I knew I should just shuppet in the garbage, but I needed to eat something, even leftovers. I was afraid it might be so toxic croak-ing me before round 1. I was a bit horsea and afraid I wouldn’t be able to talk. After gulpin the lati I had this aftertaste of grimer muk er something in my mouth.
I headed for the bathroom with a gas attack and afraid I might sea a gastro don-nybrook. I togepi and washed my hands, but had to spinarak of towels just to get 1 paper towel to dry. Then I crossed the courtyard happy to see blue s-ky ogre head and I took a rhydon the escalator to get to the big room. I had to heracross the room to get to my 1st game. The judges were cloyster-ing there like a castforming to fuss-snover the event. Then they are gone but arbok quickly. They had a parasections set aside for the younger groups (there was more space center left), and there was a remor-aid would be available for the 10&under kids. Their announcements would blairon and on.
I felt a blazekin to the heat of the sun and I wanted to combusken out of the gate and torchic my 1st opponent, but my 1st game was gastly. It would haunt-er at least be a skarmemory for days, and the geng-ar all here to see me suffer. I was already krabby because I flipped ninetales in a row – it was an aw-vul pixture. I flipped so many I thought I should dialgamblers anonymous. I tried to meditite on how to come up with a play, but I needed a miracle flip. So I chanted over the dice “abra, kadabra, alakazam”, but no magikarpet appeared, of corsolanother tails. His bench was a forterress, like a walreining high in front of me, and I knew I was dun-sparce as my bench was, and defeat would hap-pinsir-tainly. His combination was so good I thought the attack might have been a mesprit, but it really did 200, azelf inflicted wound as I didn’t read the card. It was blaine crazy and so uxie ridiculous that I felt solid rage and thought they should banette from play. He ran me into the groudon and I took an aw-volbeating. I knew I should talk in a whismer, but I yelled loudred because I was about to exploud. All I could do was stant lerning from this mistake and move on.
My 2nd game was against a pokeMom who said she expected to lose every game. She donked me. I barely sat down as she went 1st, prayed with her roserade, drew a card, added an energy, flipped heads and with my only basic pokemon weak to hers it was over. Where was Mom’s kindness? She used her only strength,charm was not part of it. I would have needed Leisik surgery to see that very illumeseting result coming. As I sat back a nail began to poke me, so small I would need radar to see it. So I got a bandaid from the drawer to healer it, and used the blower in the bathroom to dry the now-tangrowth on my back. I tried to focus band-aid onto the wound, but I knew ivysaur for a while. I tried to wash but the power spray was so hot it was like steam aqua and it gunked up on the broken mirror (part was a crystal shard on the ground, indeed a mysterious shard) like steam magma.
My 3rd game was better. I recall feeling happiny and took my cue boneanza time! I tried a riskingler move that was very chansey, using my best card with 4 energies onix. I had a ledian I wanted to keep it. Great scott - it worked giving me a feeling of blisseyven though I was only up 2 prizes. My son was watching and he camerupt and said “that attack was big, daddy, snorlax won it for you!” It was a blend of speed plus power. It would have taken a 20 magneton nuke fired as an octillery shell from an M1 miltank or a 2 mag mortar or power treemendous to beat me after that, no challenge at all with my pokemon team rocketing to victory. It was berry good, a miracle, like flying in a fluffy balloon and finding gold at the end of the rainbow, oren-ding on a high note as if healing the 2 losses. My poor opponent looked glum and left eating a sitrus fruit. I let out a wooper, well at least a hootoot, as I noctowl his last pokemon and actually won a game!
My 4th game was with this old fossil, very mysterious with a hair piece on his bald dome skull, wearing an old amber jacket, and he had a bad habit where helix his lip continuously. His grandkids were there like his armor to root and claw for him and to help him with just a lileep of faith. He wanted to see my cards. When he tried to pik-achu! – his sneasel alerted the judges. He should have been disquilavad, but he just got a warning. He was a good persian, but he tried to steelix the game from me. I don’t know if he was just trying to be misdreavous or what. He denied it, not the raichuous thing to do - don’t you just luvdisclaimers? It gave me an oddish feeling of gloom, kind of like vile-plumeting in my gut, a sunkern feeling. He had a smeargle on his face and laughed ho-o-ho-oh, a legendary laugh. I wanted to exeggute him, but in this game he was my exeggutor. He had a migh-ty rogue deck and was attacking to and fro-slasshing at my bench. A lass I was in hot water as I had no energy to call on or pickup or restore and was stuck in a quagsire. I needed to recycle my hand to get a boost to bounce and fight back. I tried to fire up to react fast and scramble back into it and holon to my best pokemon with a buffer piece shieldon it for health, but nothing crystal-ized and my grassp of the situation was going retro. Things were dark as he seemed to be psychic and had the upper hand. My complexion was double colorless as I knew I wouldn’t recover. He was electric with the pedal to the metal and was coming at me like a cyclone doing multi attacks as if he had warp drive with a link to all attacks. This was my jynx, never enough energy. Worse his granddaughter came up to smoochum. She was flaffy her arms and being ampharos and would chatot and on and on. It wasn’t really abis-mol tres-passing, but she was so close I probably should have called for an on-lookers investigation, and it was depressing as I didn’t have a rainbow of hope and it went from poor y gone 2 worse and I lost.
Then they were cal-lin noone lunch break and I needed money. I did not go to the atm steeling, didn’t have to floatzel loan, but left the atm rock-ing with money. Thankfully it is not a very technical machine. Oh manaphy charged again and if 1 more phione my bank account might be zero cause I never know what the phoebe. It was nice to have change chingling in my pocket. There was no shiskiwob buffet so I ordered 1 entei (I chose mystery plate A over mystery plate B), 2 side dishes, and a koga-cola. Now the sardines were black – I have no idea how one can charizard-ine, but they did it, and since it was on top of my fruit I also had a charmeleon! I only found out later they called the cook the charman derelect. They tried to celebi-verage at a ridiculous price. I put my bagon the table, ate aipomagranate, a primeapericot, a supposedly good for extending life herb, and some nuts but not with the shelgon (although I did bite into 1 shelldering lunch), and brockali with salamence dressing that tasted like vinegar chomp-ing into it. My sandwich on darkrai bread was butterfree. My nu-melon squirtled in my eye and my bell pepper was so small it looked more like a bellsprout. I ate a pichu would have thrown out. That made me lickitung and I think I bidoff more than I could chew. At least I got to lickilicky a Godiva chocolate, a rare candy, even though desert ruins my diet. And I gave the professor birch beer as it is his favorite. He had a level x I needed. So I said I will swablu my common for it but he wouldn’t swellow that scam.
Game 5 was easy. I had no fearowing to my great hand. I was seaking the perfect hand and I found the absolute perfect hand, the genuine articuno. I felt like the wurmple turned in my favor and I let out a scy-ther was no way I could lose this one, even though I lost the always a hassolrock, paper, scizors supporter thing, and even though I mismagius the entire game making lots of mistakes. Everything was goldeen and going marrilly along and I glalie took the win. It was a ralts in the park and I just sat there kirlia my hair, not even having to gard evoir so closely against a mistake. In fact it took mawile and I had a baltoying with my opponent, just like a claydoll.
Game 6 was incredible. I could seadramatic ending right from the start, a tough shroomish all the way. I might even infer nape of my neck was arched as this was intense. The atmosphere was electrike. The game was eeveen till the end, espeonecially close. I felt like I was in the huntailing a little. It was slobrother and I needed to be jolteoned back to reality because he was a very slowpokeing through his discard pile every turn, but he had an altaria motive for slaking every turn as he would drag-on-item by item. I was ahead 2 prizes to 3, but it was so slow it was torterraus. This was a tyrant-I-targeted, but could I do it? Even though he could knock out my ex I knew I would knock out his and win. How could he weedle out of this? I was definitely in the ryperior position. Then they called time during his turn and I realized he would bedrilling me. I was up the kricketot-al disaster as he knocked out my ex and that was the game – I was mewted, like a mime, feeling like I was being stabbed with a thousandslashes with a spearowver and over. Omanytell you it was terrible. Omastars I couldn’t believe it! I was hypnotised and could seedots in front of my eyes. My plusle was racing and I tried shiftry my seat. This game was min-um, well it should have been. Finally I tried to grovyle to the judge asking for more time, but I was not a good graveler and she was sceptile, even though I assured her it was no treecko. This was lunatune and totally ludicolous and I nidoking to overrule her. Like the gong show I asked please dewgong this player out of the tournament. Even though I wanted to slugma judge I could do nothing else knowing it was always the boss’ way and my zangoose was cooked. It was a big snub-ulltimate embarrassment.
Game 7 was against a smelekid, and he sure was stunky. I guess he was 15, but he looked like a castaway from grade school and he needed to growlithel bigger to play. He was oh man-tiney, really small for 15, but he had a lot of spoink, which didn’t help since I was pretty grumpig by this time. A gust of wind blew my cards and they fell in my lap-ras I was trying to shuckle my deck, and I had to crawdaunter the table to get some, but we got started. It was like a zubattle as he had 5 diffurret types of pokemon. And he was like an accrobat moving them around beautifly. I couldn’t seem to get anywhere as it was wiggly tuff to knock anything out. He used an attack with an unown Fect, even though it was unown I should have figured it out. I had to diglettle more until I had dugtrio of evolutions, and weavile my way around, and to-get-ic was difficult, but I somehow pulled it out. It was radicate.
My last game was against a pokeDad who just wanted to finneonish this thing. I got a good start and was ahead fast. He could see it was over so he just super scoop up his cards and he congratulated me – I said ditto that. It was don,phan-tastic for both of us.
So I ended 4-4. I knew I was no expert belt it was lumineonating to learn how tough the competition was. I knew even if I bibarrel of cards from Aaron’s collection I probably couldn’t win. I wanted to have a blast-oisteing a trophy on stage. It was supposed to starmie or staryu, but it was a shaymin every way that neither of us made it. They sounded the victrebel, but for me it was a weepinbell. The beldumped my hopes. I whiscash was awarded to 400th place, but zip. Ge o dude from our area won – he was a starapter all as he got to hopip onto the stage 2. Since he won the trip to Hawaii he was acting like the big kakuna. He may have not been my choice but he was machamp. My gol-duck the champ as he was my son’s rival. I had to listen to the cheers chime echoing in my ear. There would be a Premier Ball right after dusk with dual master of ceremonies in the ultra fine Champion’s room, but I was fast and quick to tell everyone that even though it would be great, even a friend could not lure me as it was a luxury I could not afford! I guess this isn’t Paras afterall, but Pokemon Nationals is more fun than a barrel of mankeys and I will cherrim this trip always. My wife masquerains as Nurse Joy (she’s my galladen with candy) and had a great time. She came over togekiss me to console me. Now my sun-floraed his last 3 opponents with great play to make the final 16. He played so sharp-e-donated a prize to a kid in his last game so the kid wouldn’t be skunktanked 6-0. I got to rotom on but he lost in playoffs. He finished 10th and this improved azelf esteem.
I hope you enjoyed my lopunny pokemon story and will give it your seel of approval and send me gold een-ough to go to nationals next year.
Rich Armstrong (3 times oldest player at Pokemon Nationals)
Assisted by wife Nanette, and son Clint
Pokemon Can Be A PUNishing Experience
It seemed incredibly farfetch’d, and even though I was just swampert with too much to do, I afforded myself the luxuray and was off to the Pokemon National Championship. I was skittyish about such a big event, and I knew I would have no chansey, but wynaut try since it was free, no feebasically. We would have to do something with our granbull-dog Poli, find a place for our hound-our not go. We found a neighbor willing to take our poochy-enabling us to go. So we left arcanine Poli-wagging her tail and you should have seen Poli-whirl as we were leaving, but I told the neighbor to make sure Poli-toed the line.
At Mary’s request I used a computer search to get the cheapest flight – big mistake naturally as I should have taken Steven’s advice. It was a rough flight over a stark mountain as apparently trying to reach a level maximum we went through a magnetic storm, a major windstorm from a high pressure system to a low pressure system. There was an energy ark as maybe a meteor falls from the sky, and in a conductive quarry an engine went full flame making me scared there would be a typhlosion. It was awvoltorbulent and lightning hit the plane like an electrode resulting in an elctabuzzing over the captain’s speaker. Could the wingull-timately fall off? The lights would skiploominating on and off. There was a flareon that burst resulting in vaporeon the ceiling. At least I knew it couldn’t be a bomb as now it was outside. I don’t think they did night maintenance or maybe Bill’s maintenance was bad, maybe from lack of Buck’s Training. At one point a double gust bounced us around like an arcade game putting all passengers in a fervor, and it felt like the plane ran over a giant stump, definitely did not seem aerodactylamically stable. There was the flight lieutenant surgeing from the cockpit and I was hoping they would not have to dump magcargo to lighten the plane. There was a lady cradily a baby who tripped and I tried to jumpluff but hit my armaldo I barely noticed. I should have taken Cynthia’s Guidance staying seated instead of trying to calm Cynthia’s feelings. The radio tower said the plane had vibravation problems. I felt like I was in a trap-inching along, just Delta supplying me with a free sandwich (at least better than Delta chargeing me), but with my barf bagon my lap we did flygon to Columbus, Ohio after we were wailord for 2 hours.
I took the night teleporter, an ugly bronzor dark brown bus, to the hotel. Every time he shifted it sounded like he ground a giratina bit. It was drizzling and his se viper blade squeaked terribly, so all I could think was to hope every agonizing milo tic off as fast as possible. We drove by big billboards with huge pictures of Le-bron zong them as this was Ohio, and we also drove by the Columbus (in bright moonlight) stadium. By the time we got there it was way past dusk-ulltimate darkness. As I checked into the hotel there was so much dust-oxygen was needed. I met-a-gross guy in the lobby – he was a purugly hom-brelooming over me and I left quickly. I also met-a-podgy man behind the counter. He told me the room would be cold but I couldn’t even wormadam cloak out of him, which burmy a little. Why couldn’t he give me DeShaw for Pete’s sake? He suggested I go to their gym challenge myself, but I was too tired. In my room I checked the tube for Pokemon shows – I went through the totodile. What a croc an awful bunch of choices, so I settled feraligatr wrestling narrated by tv reporters. There was even a hitmon channel – 100% violence including the hitmon top movie of all time. It was a cheap hotel, not much better than a tent-a-cruel way to save money. But it was way better than a tent-a-cool shower. It seemed to be a day where all I did was swinub stream, and I am a lousy Schwimmer. Even thought the heatran all night, I was still wearing my bubble coat and had the covers drapioned me. I turned off the light switch and hit the pilos-wineing that I would not get enough sleep and that it would be very hard to-marow-aking up as I driftblim-ly off to sleep.
In the morning I was drowzee and my sableyes were misty, but it didn’t matter that I couldn’t tell if it was neither dusknoir dawn from the lanturn attracting a mothim the room. When I had arrived I had no special conditions, but now my left arm was paralyzed from being asleep in the wrong position, my stomach felt like I had been poisoned, and I was confused being in a strange room, and that really burned me. I had been koffing and weezing all night and my stomach was tangela in a knot, likely the flucariover from home. I needed a big drag-on-air and zap dose of something stong. So I decided to munch-lax atives as a potion, but then had to make aron, actually a rapidash for the bathroom. It was aggronizing, but at least I felt better after I coughed up a lugia. I needed vigor-oth-erwise I might not make it. At the deli-birdbrain that I was for going there, I ordered a lati-as I needed caffeine to go,lem-on of course. I paid the bill as I don’t take charity. I ordered from the ledybaking sausage even though I was afraid I machoke on it. It looked so much like ash, ketchum or mustard was needed. I took gabite, but I didn’t nido-rancid sausage. It had so much pelipper on it I had to hold my nosepassing it into my mouth. I knew I should just shuppet in the garbage, but I needed to eat something, even leftovers. I was afraid it might be so toxic croak-ing me before round 1. I was a bit horsea and afraid I wouldn’t be able to talk. After gulpin the lati I had this aftertaste of grimer muk er something in my mouth.
I headed for the bathroom with a gas attack and afraid I might sea a gastro don-nybrook. I togepi and washed my hands, but had to spinarak of towels just to get 1 paper towel to dry. Then I crossed the courtyard happy to see blue s-ky ogre head and I took a rhydon the escalator to get to the big room. I had to heracross the room to get to my 1st game. The judges were cloyster-ing there like a castforming to fuss-snover the event. Then they are gone but arbok quickly. They had a parasections set aside for the younger groups (there was more space center left), and there was a remor-aid would be available for the 10&under kids. Their announcements would blairon and on.
I felt a blazekin to the heat of the sun and I wanted to combusken out of the gate and torchic my 1st opponent, but my 1st game was gastly. It would haunt-er at least be a skarmemory for days, and the geng-ar all here to see me suffer. I was already krabby because I flipped ninetales in a row – it was an aw-vul pixture. I flipped so many I thought I should dialgamblers anonymous. I tried to meditite on how to come up with a play, but I needed a miracle flip. So I chanted over the dice “abra, kadabra, alakazam”, but no magikarpet appeared, of corsolanother tails. His bench was a forterress, like a walreining high in front of me, and I knew I was dun-sparce as my bench was, and defeat would hap-pinsir-tainly. His combination was so good I thought the attack might have been a mesprit, but it really did 200, azelf inflicted wound as I didn’t read the card. It was blaine crazy and so uxie ridiculous that I felt solid rage and thought they should banette from play. He ran me into the groudon and I took an aw-volbeating. I knew I should talk in a whismer, but I yelled loudred because I was about to exploud. All I could do was stant lerning from this mistake and move on.
My 2nd game was against a pokeMom who said she expected to lose every game. She donked me. I barely sat down as she went 1st, prayed with her roserade, drew a card, added an energy, flipped heads and with my only basic pokemon weak to hers it was over. Where was Mom’s kindness? She used her only strength,charm was not part of it. I would have needed Leisik surgery to see that very illumeseting result coming. As I sat back a nail began to poke me, so small I would need radar to see it. So I got a bandaid from the drawer to healer it, and used the blower in the bathroom to dry the now-tangrowth on my back. I tried to focus band-aid onto the wound, but I knew ivysaur for a while. I tried to wash but the power spray was so hot it was like steam aqua and it gunked up on the broken mirror (part was a crystal shard on the ground, indeed a mysterious shard) like steam magma.
My 3rd game was better. I recall feeling happiny and took my cue boneanza time! I tried a riskingler move that was very chansey, using my best card with 4 energies onix. I had a ledian I wanted to keep it. Great scott - it worked giving me a feeling of blisseyven though I was only up 2 prizes. My son was watching and he camerupt and said “that attack was big, daddy, snorlax won it for you!” It was a blend of speed plus power. It would have taken a 20 magneton nuke fired as an octillery shell from an M1 miltank or a 2 mag mortar or power treemendous to beat me after that, no challenge at all with my pokemon team rocketing to victory. It was berry good, a miracle, like flying in a fluffy balloon and finding gold at the end of the rainbow, oren-ding on a high note as if healing the 2 losses. My poor opponent looked glum and left eating a sitrus fruit. I let out a wooper, well at least a hootoot, as I noctowl his last pokemon and actually won a game!
My 4th game was with this old fossil, very mysterious with a hair piece on his bald dome skull, wearing an old amber jacket, and he had a bad habit where helix his lip continuously. His grandkids were there like his armor to root and claw for him and to help him with just a lileep of faith. He wanted to see my cards. When he tried to pik-achu! – his sneasel alerted the judges. He should have been disquilavad, but he just got a warning. He was a good persian, but he tried to steelix the game from me. I don’t know if he was just trying to be misdreavous or what. He denied it, not the raichuous thing to do - don’t you just luvdisclaimers? It gave me an oddish feeling of gloom, kind of like vile-plumeting in my gut, a sunkern feeling. He had a smeargle on his face and laughed ho-o-ho-oh, a legendary laugh. I wanted to exeggute him, but in this game he was my exeggutor. He had a migh-ty rogue deck and was attacking to and fro-slasshing at my bench. A lass I was in hot water as I had no energy to call on or pickup or restore and was stuck in a quagsire. I needed to recycle my hand to get a boost to bounce and fight back. I tried to fire up to react fast and scramble back into it and holon to my best pokemon with a buffer piece shieldon it for health, but nothing crystal-ized and my grassp of the situation was going retro. Things were dark as he seemed to be psychic and had the upper hand. My complexion was double colorless as I knew I wouldn’t recover. He was electric with the pedal to the metal and was coming at me like a cyclone doing multi attacks as if he had warp drive with a link to all attacks. This was my jynx, never enough energy. Worse his granddaughter came up to smoochum. She was flaffy her arms and being ampharos and would chatot and on and on. It wasn’t really abis-mol tres-passing, but she was so close I probably should have called for an on-lookers investigation, and it was depressing as I didn’t have a rainbow of hope and it went from poor y gone 2 worse and I lost.
Then they were cal-lin noone lunch break and I needed money. I did not go to the atm steeling, didn’t have to floatzel loan, but left the atm rock-ing with money. Thankfully it is not a very technical machine. Oh manaphy charged again and if 1 more phione my bank account might be zero cause I never know what the phoebe. It was nice to have change chingling in my pocket. There was no shiskiwob buffet so I ordered 1 entei (I chose mystery plate A over mystery plate B), 2 side dishes, and a koga-cola. Now the sardines were black – I have no idea how one can charizard-ine, but they did it, and since it was on top of my fruit I also had a charmeleon! I only found out later they called the cook the charman derelect. They tried to celebi-verage at a ridiculous price. I put my bagon the table, ate aipomagranate, a primeapericot, a supposedly good for extending life herb, and some nuts but not with the shelgon (although I did bite into 1 shelldering lunch), and brockali with salamence dressing that tasted like vinegar chomp-ing into it. My sandwich on darkrai bread was butterfree. My nu-melon squirtled in my eye and my bell pepper was so small it looked more like a bellsprout. I ate a pichu would have thrown out. That made me lickitung and I think I bidoff more than I could chew. At least I got to lickilicky a Godiva chocolate, a rare candy, even though desert ruins my diet. And I gave the professor birch beer as it is his favorite. He had a level x I needed. So I said I will swablu my common for it but he wouldn’t swellow that scam.
Game 5 was easy. I had no fearowing to my great hand. I was seaking the perfect hand and I found the absolute perfect hand, the genuine articuno. I felt like the wurmple turned in my favor and I let out a scy-ther was no way I could lose this one, even though I lost the always a hassolrock, paper, scizors supporter thing, and even though I mismagius the entire game making lots of mistakes. Everything was goldeen and going marrilly along and I glalie took the win. It was a ralts in the park and I just sat there kirlia my hair, not even having to gard evoir so closely against a mistake. In fact it took mawile and I had a baltoying with my opponent, just like a claydoll.
Game 6 was incredible. I could seadramatic ending right from the start, a tough shroomish all the way. I might even infer nape of my neck was arched as this was intense. The atmosphere was electrike. The game was eeveen till the end, espeonecially close. I felt like I was in the huntailing a little. It was slobrother and I needed to be jolteoned back to reality because he was a very slowpokeing through his discard pile every turn, but he had an altaria motive for slaking every turn as he would drag-on-item by item. I was ahead 2 prizes to 3, but it was so slow it was torterraus. This was a tyrant-I-targeted, but could I do it? Even though he could knock out my ex I knew I would knock out his and win. How could he weedle out of this? I was definitely in the ryperior position. Then they called time during his turn and I realized he would bedrilling me. I was up the kricketot-al disaster as he knocked out my ex and that was the game – I was mewted, like a mime, feeling like I was being stabbed with a thousandslashes with a spearowver and over. Omanytell you it was terrible. Omastars I couldn’t believe it! I was hypnotised and could seedots in front of my eyes. My plusle was racing and I tried shiftry my seat. This game was min-um, well it should have been. Finally I tried to grovyle to the judge asking for more time, but I was not a good graveler and she was sceptile, even though I assured her it was no treecko. This was lunatune and totally ludicolous and I nidoking to overrule her. Like the gong show I asked please dewgong this player out of the tournament. Even though I wanted to slugma judge I could do nothing else knowing it was always the boss’ way and my zangoose was cooked. It was a big snub-ulltimate embarrassment.
Game 7 was against a smelekid, and he sure was stunky. I guess he was 15, but he looked like a castaway from grade school and he needed to growlithel bigger to play. He was oh man-tiney, really small for 15, but he had a lot of spoink, which didn’t help since I was pretty grumpig by this time. A gust of wind blew my cards and they fell in my lap-ras I was trying to shuckle my deck, and I had to crawdaunter the table to get some, but we got started. It was like a zubattle as he had 5 diffurret types of pokemon. And he was like an accrobat moving them around beautifly. I couldn’t seem to get anywhere as it was wiggly tuff to knock anything out. He used an attack with an unown Fect, even though it was unown I should have figured it out. I had to diglettle more until I had dugtrio of evolutions, and weavile my way around, and to-get-ic was difficult, but I somehow pulled it out. It was radicate.
My last game was against a pokeDad who just wanted to finneonish this thing. I got a good start and was ahead fast. He could see it was over so he just super scoop up his cards and he congratulated me – I said ditto that. It was don,phan-tastic for both of us.
So I ended 4-4. I knew I was no expert belt it was lumineonating to learn how tough the competition was. I knew even if I bibarrel of cards from Aaron’s collection I probably couldn’t win. I wanted to have a blast-oisteing a trophy on stage. It was supposed to starmie or staryu, but it was a shaymin every way that neither of us made it. They sounded the victrebel, but for me it was a weepinbell. The beldumped my hopes. I whiscash was awarded to 400th place, but zip. Ge o dude from our area won – he was a starapter all as he got to hopip onto the stage 2. Since he won the trip to Hawaii he was acting like the big kakuna. He may have not been my choice but he was machamp. My gol-duck the champ as he was my son’s rival. I had to listen to the cheers chime echoing in my ear. There would be a Premier Ball right after dusk with dual master of ceremonies in the ultra fine Champion’s room, but I was fast and quick to tell everyone that even though it would be great, even a friend could not lure me as it was a luxury I could not afford! I guess this isn’t Paras afterall, but Pokemon Nationals is more fun than a barrel of mankeys and I will cherrim this trip always. My wife masquerains as Nurse Joy (she’s my galladen with candy) and had a great time. She came over togekiss me to console me. Now my sun-floraed his last 3 opponents with great play to make the final 16. He played so sharp-e-donated a prize to a kid in his last game so the kid wouldn’t be skunktanked 6-0. I got to rotom on but he lost in playoffs. He finished 10th and this improved azelf esteem.
I hope you enjoyed my lopunny pokemon story and will give it your seel of approval and send me gold een-ough to go to nationals next year.
Rich Armstrong (3 times oldest player at Pokemon Nationals)
Assisted by wife Nanette, and son Clint
