5,136. That's a funny number, isn't it? It's a splendid four digits... it's significantly larger than the also-impressive 42, and it's surprisingly more than 5,135 by exactly one number. What is it, you ask?
Why, it's the amount of views Tony's Times has received. There's bound to be some sort of mistake there. Perhaps someone can clarify how topics magically increase in viewcount when they hit the archives? Perhaps 5,109 of those views are actually mine? Or perhaps... it was successful.
Yeah, it's bound to be the first or second option, but I thought I'd say screw it anyway and resurrect Minty Thrill from its grave for another ride. I read over it recently, and good golly, those first couple chapters are sparse, aren't they? No wonder, the fic ran from 5th November, 2002 to 11th June, 2004, when I chucked a hissy fit and demanded OzAndrew close the topic. (Partially because I felt my farewell speech was mighty clever and I wanted the last word)
I've grown up a lot in that time, and I kinda got over it a few months later (I started a new fic late that year). Does anyone still care about Minty Thrill? Hard to say, but I certainly do. Historians claim that the wily fic was once rather popular at one time, I might check and see if that's all a lot of baloney. Or bologna. Or whatever.
All that being said, come see what revisions I've made in all its downtime! See if you can actually tough it out for 36 chapters and roughly 100,000 words before finding any new material. Decide whether it's aged well or as crummy as ever, and see if Chase Ginnit still rubs you the wrong way. ...And hey, I might even throw Uncle Terrell in there.
Cue lights... cue spellcheck... cue L'arc~En~Ciel's Ready Steady Go (my intended theme song for MT a full year before I had ever seen Full Metal Alchemist)... cue Minty Thrill.
MINTY THRILL
Chapter the Prologue
Midday with the Master
In my infinite wisdom, there remains but a sparse few things that I have not, and may never, figure out entirely. The meaning of life is one of those questions too complex to decode. Working VCR clocks is another one of life’s secrets that proves hellishly confounding.
But above all else, the one matter that I find so damning, so indescribably wicked, is, and always has been, time. It’s something I have trouble comprehending, and it’s something that has never been my friend. If I ever met Father Time I’d beat him up and roll him off a bridge.
On this day however, time had won. Again it had foiled my efforts, and again… I awoke at 12 PM.
“My god…” I croaked, and rolled over groggily. I rubbed my eyes furiously, hoping to remove the remnants of sleep from them, along with anything else that may have ended up there.
I reached over for my bedside bottle of water, and took a quick swig before throwing it over my shoulder haphazardly. It seemed like a good idea at the time.
“I sure as hell hope I don’t oversleep on Saturday.” I continued, a goofy grin planted on my face.
Saturday was the big day… Saturday was my time to shine… On Saturday, I would be facing the world, and getting my first Pokémon, a moment far too cliché to go spreading around, but exciting all the same. I had waited for this day for a long time, longer than most. I was fourteen, and had already failed Professor Gum’s Pokémon lessons four years in a row. This time however, through some elaborate cheating and exam thievery, I had attained the highest mark in the class, a sign of my dedication toward education.
Now nothing could stand in my way…
I slowly shifted toward the edge of the bed, contemplating. How long did these ‘journey’ things take? A week, I guess.
Fortunately I had attained enough time off school to fit the adventure in without getting in trouble. Nothing more than telling Principal Douglas I had chicken pox, and I was good to go. Well, I didn’t tell him in person, obviously. I assumed that chicken pox had something to do with poultry, so I just made a lot of clucking noises on the phone.
Stretching lazily, I felt good about this story of success. …And speaking of success, I would have to prepare my victory speech for when I defeated the Elite Door. I realised that I didn’t have much time; I mean, how hard could it be to beat up on a damn door?
I rolled again, this time completely falling from bed onto the hard floor. I took the opportunity of being down there to grab an old toy microphone from underneath the bed, as well as a handful of dust that looked like it was alive and scared me witless.
Excitedly, I leapt atop the bed, audibly cracked my neck, and cleared my throat.
“Hello, all my loyal fans!” I roared, the microphone rumbling in a plasticky echo, “It is I, Anthony Chambers from Burake Town! It’s the fourth… or, umm, fifth town of our lovely state of Furudo. I’m hot off a visit from Loserville’s grass-type gym…” I paused for a moment, “Uh, Jungle Gym, and I of course defeated the leader there for the ninth time. That just shows what happens when Frank Furt messes with Terrible Tony! In short, I kicked grass!”
I moved the microphone away from my face, and made a series of guffaws to symbolise the enthusiastic crowd response.
“Seriously though, I’m here to tell all of you future Pokémon masters out there to try your best, never give up hope, and stay in school!”
Unlike I did… I recalled, a minor twinge of guilt surfacing.
“But above all else, always remember the little people.”
I moved the microphone away again, and chirped in a tiny voice, “Like me, Mr. Tony?”
I bent over, and smiled warmly at this nonexistent child, “Yes, just like you, little… Horace. I couldn’t have gotten to where I am today without you, and without my legions of fans, and without the help of my loyal Pokémon…” I paused, and leant further, “My loyal Pokémon… Umm, I like to call him- AAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHHHH!!” I bellowed as I leant too far, and fell off the bed headfirst. I hit the floor with a sickening thud, then lied there for a couple minutes.
“Oww… self-piledriver.” I moaned, and sat up, rubbing my noggin.
Perhaps I should decide which Pokémon I’ll choose right about now. I pondered, As well as think of a name more sufficient than AAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHHHH.
It was time to put my amazing decision-making skills to good use. I grabbed a nearby pen and a pad of paper. I had to think for a minute to remember what the options were.
There was that pear thing with the leaf on its head… I scribbled down Chocolata.
Then, there’s that… water crocodile thing. Something along the lines of Big ol’ Smile. And… oh yeah, the turtle thing. Yerdle, or something.
And then there was that fire shrew thing. Mintythrill. And, and the lizard; that was a fire Pokémon too. Wow, I was just too good at this. I jotted Charbladder, then gave a long hard thought to the final Pokémon available.
It was… that scary frog thing with a green fortune cookie on its back. That was called a Bulb-is-sore.
With my arsenal in front of me, it was time to determine which I would collect from the good Professor. Of course, I’d get all of them in two days; three if I was busy with a photo shoot, but to get my first few, I’d need one to start with. And there were a lot of things to consider. Important things…
Every Pokémon has a diverse range of advantages and disadvantages. There is the obvious range of elements that the Pokémon thrives off, and which of these could overcome another in battle, but one also has to consider the blend of statistics and specialties each species possesses.
Although a Pokémon can ‘level up’, increasing its power and maturity, and improving each of its statistical qualities, it can only be as good as it knows how to be.
Therefore, a Pokémon must also be equipped with the correct attack abilities. One must avoid focussing on physical attacks for Pokémon possessing low attack power, and likewise Pokémon with poor elemental control, or ‘special attack’ power should not be made to use many elemental techniques.
Other qualities of a Pokémon must also be taken into consideration. Which of the moves can it learn to overcome its weaknesses and capitalize on its strengths? If it possesses a diverse range, it will overcome a wide range of obstacles, whilst one must remember that it will excel with attacks of the same element that it is.
Above all however, this Pokémon needs love. With a considerate trainer who is willing to try to be something, a Pokémon can excel. A trainer who is prepared to go through the harsh days and nights, and tend for the Pokémon when it is sick. To be a master, one must remember to be a trainer.
“…Is that it?” I groaned, and flipped another page of the exam I had stolen and submitted as my own, “No wonder I never read any of those stupid books…”
I peered around, and spotted my Pokémonopoly board game. Thinking quickly, I grabbed a die from the box, and held it tightly in my palm.
“When one lacks proper education and credentials,” I said in a hushed tone, “He must rely upon the chance bestowed upon him by the good people at Parker Brothers.” I excitedly rolled it along the floor.
It swivelled to a stop, before landing clearly on the one. That meant… Chocolata.
That’s kind of… girlish. I thought to myself, headlines of me being a sissy running through my head.
I gulped, and looked around. Hoping nobody would notice (seeing as I was alone and all, it’s unlikely that they would), I lightly pushed it over. It stopped on four, which meant I would be getting the shrew.
I grinned, and stood tall. “I shall conquer all… WITH MY MINTYTHRILL!!”
My moment of shining glory was interrupted with a startling pounding against the door.
“Shut up Chambers!” Mr. Michaels bellowed. He was the landlord, and perhaps an oversized blob from a science experiment gone awry, to boot. “You keep the noise up and you’re gonna get a minty thrill where the sun don’t shine!!”
It was overly hopeful to assume he was referring to the underside of my pillow. I hastily grabbed my pen, should I need it to ward off the 300-pound blob.
“And get the rent ready tomorrow. You ain’t gonna scam me with that chicken pox excuse this time, punk!”
“Bu-bu-buckaw?” I squeaked sheepishly, hoping I could trick him,
“Yeah that’s right, I only accept bu-bu-bucks!” he roared. I could hear him waddling down the hallway, muttering profanities and ancient Chinese curses.
I sighed, a wave of relief rushing over me. However, something struck me as odd. Payday was on Sunday… But in theory, wouldn’t that mean…?
I raced over to the table, which seemed to have just about everything on it, and looked at my watch. There, in big digital letters, it read ‘SATURDAY’.
TODAY was the big day! TODAY was my time to shine! Today, I was… LATE!
“Aww Hölle!” I shouted, and threw the watch at the closet door. It smashed into a hundred pieces.
“Aww Hölle!” I repeated, when I recalled that the watch was a gift from my grandfather.
“Aww Hölle!” I let out one more time when it hit me; my grandfather was dead.
I guess those German lessons did come in handy after all…