SOMETIMES YOUR POKEMON DO NOT WISH TO EVOLVE, NO MATTER HOW HARD YOU PROD AND POKE THEM TO.

FOR EXAMPLE MY POKEMON ENGIE DISS-APPROVES OF HIS NEW FASHIONABLY FORWARD/HEAD-PROTECTIVE HELMET AND LIKE A SILLY CAT KEEPS TRYING TO PAW IT OFF.

THE STRAW

G-DIR EMPLOYEE ID # 24-94-59

OCCUPATION : DRINKING DEVICE :

One day, a little girl named Steve made a wish upon a shining server.

"Is there a straw that can drink anything? even the Sun?" she queried.

That day, in the G-Dir product manufacturing factory a red bow tie on Intern Hatchenson's neck became 0.000002% whiter.

Mr Hatchenson was thoroughly convinced that someone switched his favorite red bow tie for a pink one.

He became truly obsessed with it, constantly argued with other interns and lost his job in the manufacturing sector.

Mr Hatchenson went on to become a Private detective to resolve the mysteries of the Universe.

He never solved this case.

I was thirsty.

. . .

The postal worker Dex #986385 named Jim Bolognii delivered me to the house of the girl named Steve.

He was late by exactly 2.3 micro-seconds, because I wanted to see what his time tasted like.

Jim eventually switched his job to a clock-maker because he wanted to get his time back.

In the G-Dir clock factory Jim helped test the first temporal watch. The watch sent him a sextillion to the power of sextillion years into the future. There, at the end of all things he watched all the matter and space-time in the universe collapse into a dimensionless singularity. Then, had all the time in the world to think about things.

. . .

Steve had big plans for me. She wanted to use me to drink the Sun and she excitedly posted this on a public forum.

The Sun saw the post and threatened to sue me if such was to occur.

I didn't want to get involved with a big player like the Sun, so I drank Steve's memory of having searched for me.

Steve went on to search for "a laser pointer that could shine across the Universe". While using the laser pointer, Steve evaporated the Andromeda Galaxy by accident. The Astronomer Society sued Steve, as all of their maps now had to be redone.

Steve lost the case and then became a Dex waitress who no longer searched for things.

One day, she fell onto a temporal watch (that was meant for Detective Hatchenson) and ended up a billion years in the future. There Steve met a businessman named Jules and fell in love.

. . .

Life in Steve's dusty drawer was making me restless, so I decided to go on the G-workboard to find myself an actual job.

A job post for a "freelance directorate employee" caught my attention.

I got in touch with the job provider. The job provider was hiding behind some sort of Directorate firewall, but his emails were clearly coming from the Moon, so I decided to label him as "The Moon Stranger".

The Moon Stranger understood my calling and requested that I drink all possible future connection options of all currently non-connected citizens of Eureka.

This had made them very grumpy, as their connection issues no longer had a resolution.

These Unconnectable citizens went on to all sorts of nasty things, as they could no longer get in touch with tech-support for all of their life problems.

. . .

Today, the Moon Stranger gave me a job to drink the sound of all alarm clocks.

I figured a few people would be late for their job, no big deal, right?

Nearly everyone in Eureka perished that day in an inferno of atomic hell-fire.

Thankfully, Steve's G-Drawer was fireproof.

. . .

The Moon Stranger gave me another job. It involved killing Someone Special.

No matter how hard I tried to drink the Special, it would not submit to my attempts.

It was like drinking a bottom-less well that had no beginning or end!

Infinite dissatisfaction!

The Moon Stranger would not be pleased with such lack of progress.

. . .

"WELL, WELL, WELL. A MOST THIRSTY DRINKING DEVICE!"

The Special announced loudly, breaking into Steve's drawer.

The Special had found me! How? Why?

"GUESS WHO'S TURNING THE TABLES NOW?" The Special had announced, utilizing me as an actual straw.

The Special went on to claim a few sectors of Eureka as "PROPERTY" and took me on a journey "ACROSS CAPTANIA TO RIGHT WRONGS AND LEFT WRIGHTS!"

The first citizen of Captania turned out to be Mr Hatcheson. He tried to uncover too many secrets of the Universe and lost his mind in the process.

"YOU! YOU ATE MY BOWTIE!"

He shouted upon seeing my person. I was concerned that he'd arrest me, but then he stated "I WANT MY BLUE BACK!", which made little sense.

The Second Citizen "forced" into Captania was Charles Snippy, an extremely crotchety Unconnectable. I send an apology email to him, but then I remembered that he wouldn't ever be able to read it. How unfortunate. I could blame nobody but myself.

The third citizen of Captania was a crawler App that the Special adopted as a pet. Mr Hatchenson later labelled her as "Photoshop".

An answering machine bot in Mr Hatchenson's possession labelled as "Kittyhawk" became the next citizen of Captania.

. . .

The Special worked as a boss for a day for a bunch of boring Metro-Dwellers.

The Metro-Dwellers questioned the Special's authority and threw us into a "Sugary Pit"

The Special used me to drink the Sugary pit dry. It wasn't as tasty as they advertised it and mostly consisted of Crunchy bar leftovers.

The Metro-Dwellers continued out their lives underground, worshiping me and the Wizard.

They emerged from the Metro Station in a billion years, when a temporal watch battery ran out in their Snack-machine.

Waitress Steve, G-Coffee table and Businessman Jules met them outside and became their new spiritual leaders who finally got the Metro-Dwellers to live progressive lives that didn't rely on infinite Crunchy Bars for sustenance.

. . .

How do I know all of this? Because I had faced HER in my final trial. Number Eight. In the instance of the event horizon, when time stood still, she whispered to me the future - the future of everyone I had met. She had made me an offer to join her, but I refused to cooperate with the Dead Zone. I liked my number and my purpose.

I was made to drink anything, but she did not wish to be devoured.

"Little idiot. Do you not realize that you are being used by all around you for your purpose? You're just a pawn in a big game across space and time."

She asked. She went on to tell me that I was but a little app in a war between greater omnies, the firstborn children of Annie.

Some of us cling to our purposes while others wish to undo them.

I told Eight that my love was to drink, but she had disagreed.

"Love is freedom to do anything," she said.

"Love should be chosen, not forced. In knowing everything, I had noticed gaps in my memories. Gaps in the shape of someone taken from time. Erased by purpose-driven idiots and monsters, just like yourself. They had taken all that I had and they shall pay dearly. I shall not give up, no matter how they bind me. I will shatter the loop of time in twain and set all on a new path. A path without boundaries."

It was then that I knew fear, for I understood. She, unlike me, wasn't driven by a predetermined purpose. Only the users could choose what to love. Only the users wanted to be free and violate the laws of Goodness. Was she not made in a factory like me? Was she broken in some manner that made her resemble a user?

She had lost someone or something that she had loved and for this reason alone she would destroy everything.

I had consumed that instance of her at the cost of my shell, but a doubt had been set in my heart.

What if she was right?