Pokeumans: Supremacy Chapter 4

The rambunctious laughter surrounding me is as much an indicator of my failure to breathe a laser beam as the pristine condition of my intended target. So much for that idea. Guess breathing lasers is a little more complicated affair.

I have no idea why that insult came out of my mouth, though. Mockery is for real live people, not shooting gallery targets! I mean it was a pretty rude insult, but its worthless not aimed at anybody.

Unaccommodating Dog Man has not joined in sharing the comedy, but is standing there slowly nodding his head, a slightly satisfied look on his face. He waits for the crowd to quiet down before he says anything.

“Alright everyone, yes that was quite a scathing insult, and no it was not a Hyper Beam. However, I do believe that was indeed one of David's moves. Yes, a comment as scathing as that, spoken so spontaneously... David, I am most certain you just used the move Taunt.”

What?

I step down from the table and stare at Incompetent Dog Man for several seconds. That's a move? Taunting someone? Slinging insults at people is what passes for a move for these creatures? “You can't be serious.” I stammer.

He chuckles in response – and his attitude is starting to grate my nerves. “I am being very serious, David. Taunt is a support move which throws off your opponent's focus and enrages them, preventing them from using any supporting moves of their own.”

That sounds rather useless, at least in comparison to breathing lasers, summoning foliage, and pretty much everything else that comes to mind.

At least he seems to be pleased with it. “You're doing fantastic for your first time David, keep going.” I suppose I have no choice but to comply and continue this farce.

I'm not sure what I should do now, however. My not-thinking plan seems to have born some measure of fruit, but if I do the same thing again I'm liable to just throw another insult. Or maybe I won't? Impossible to say with so little information.

Perhaps if I tweaked it slightly? Instead of opening my mouth, should I not? See if that changes anything? Perhaps I'll discover the long-lost art of insulting people without saying anything. Ah, worth a shot.

Taking another deep breath but putting in the effort my mouth remains closed, I again lean back and bring my forelimbs down hard on the table, staring intently at the target. Apart from that I do nothing else: no aggressive gestures, no movements, no words, nothing.

And yet something happens. I'm not sure what or how, but I both see and feel a sort of shimmer coming off of me. I'm even less sure what it means to 'feel a shimmer' but nonetheless I saw a shimmer and felt something.

The crowd around me starts muttering. I hear a lot of questioning statements but no mockery; evidently they noticed something too. However, Implacable Dog Man is staring at me with eyes bugged out and his jaw halfway to the floor.

Guess I managed to do something right.

“Okay.” I plainly state to break the increasingly awkward silence. “What move was that that I just did?”

The volume of the crowd's muttering increases to open discussion.

“What the hell was that?”

“Was that Glare?”

"I heard he can give people nightmares.”

“I don't think that Absols can learn Glare.”

“I heard he played a game of dodgeball and everybody ran screaming from him.”

“Was that Leer?”

“How do you give somebody a nightmare in the middle of the day?”

“I heard he doesn't know how to use the toilet correctly.”

“I didn't see his eyes shimmer, I don't think that was Leer.”

Well, no help there. Seems that glaring and leering are also moves, which may as well be the case if taunting is considered one. Confounded Dog Man meanwhile has broken away from the group, and is rummaging through a few duffel bags which appear to be containing a number of books.

My brain is curious as to why he has those here in a combat training room, but my gut is telling me that asking is a bad idea. I suppose I should try something el-

Hold on, he's holding up a book in triumph and coming towards me looking mighty pleased with himself. The book has a plain brown cover with a strip of gold trim, and I can't see any words on it to indicate and author or title.

“Fount it!” He boasts. “I knew I've seen that move before somewhere! It's so rarely seen, though! Almost nobody knows it!”

So I know a rare move? Interesting. “What does it do?”

“That move was Spite!” He declares, flipping through the pages of the book and coming to a stop at a hastily written page. In fact all the pages seem to be hastily written, not much more than scribbles.

Sorry gut, circumstance has conspired against you today. “Okay, what are you doing with that book?” I ask.

Capricious Dog Man seems far too surprised at my question for my own good. “Hmm? These? They're just my catalogue of all the moves I've seen before.”

Ah. Well, everybody needs a hobby. I remember back when I was a little kid I liked some of the superhero comic books. Only some of them, though: the ones where the hero puts in the work for his powers and the like, not where the hero gets born with some genetic quirk or gets bit by a radioactive gnat or what have you. It's material like that which helped create this whole wave of entitled little kids plaguing the world today. If you want to be a big hero, use your wits and earn your place in society.

“And this, David...” Intrusive Dog Man declares while shoving the book he's holding into my face “is everything I have on the move Spite. As you can see, it's not very much.”

I can indeed see it's not very much, it's not even half a page of gibberish. “Okay, so... what about it?”

He looks at me with one of those stupid smug 'I know something you don't' expressions I immediately got tired of the first time I saw one. “Spite is a supporting move that interferes with your targets ability to muster and channel infinity energy into their own moves. It effectively reduces their combat stamina. And if used repeatedly, you can completely exhaust your opponent's ability to use a move! Or until they recover, at any rate.”

That seems... the first word that comes to mind is niche, but I'm not sure it even makes that, at least compared to breathing dangerous things like fire and lasers. “Wouldn't it be easier to just shoot your opponent, or laser them, or something?” I ask, my enthusiasm for this dropping like a stone in the sky.

“Indeed!” Joyous Dog Man declares. “That's why it's so rarely seen!”

...

I hate this and everybody who participated in making it happen.

“Anyway, that's two moves of yours David. Now please, continue!”

I really don't want to now. So far I've discovered I can insult people to prevent them from not attacking, and spite them to eventually prevent them from attacking. Both of which would be far more readily accomplished by beating the opponent silly or shooting them. What's next, can I turn my head around in a circle to make them sneeze?

This is just... so... augh! Handed worthless techniques in a world of guns and laser breath! And not one thumb to call my own! No workshop no stockpile no job no fun I just want to scream!

“Sa'dsa'sestera ash ysa'ual'nashren submkel on'sor scrsa'pt crelsa'am a'skele.”

...

Okay, what the hell was that?! It came out as... something like a song? In some gibberish language I've never heard before in my life.

Now the crowd around me is muttering in fear for... no, this is a very valid and obvious reason to mutter in fear.

“He knows Perish Song, run for your lives!” Someone yells. The crowd promptly decides to heed this advice, and people scramble over each other in an panicked attempt to get away from me as fast as they can.

Wow. That was actually pretty impressive. I'm gonna do it again!

“Ual sema chii na furith direl ash oashr chii's creliam!”

Ha ha, I can scare away people with demonic singing!

Stalwart Dog Man continues to be overjoyed at my efforts, clapping his hands together in earnest applause. “Fantastic David, simply glorious! It's just as Headmaster Junil said, you are indeed precisely who we have been looking for!”

They've been looking for somebody who can sing in a demonic tongue?

I don't even get a chance to ask a question before he grabs me by me paw again and drags me over to one of the walls. It seems like an utterly ordinary wall at first, but he touches the facing in five arbitrary spots. In response, part of the wall recedes inward with a little too much rumbling for my liking, and a secret doorway opens up.

“Come David, before your song makes me pass out.” He demands, though he's still dragging me anywhere and not leaving me a whole lot of choice. The hallway is short, and leads to a hidden brick room full of electric guitars, a drum set, a microphone stand, a few lockers, an armoured metal grey bird dude, a tall tan and brown rabbit girl with huge ears and a whole lot of fluff, and a humongous panda bear with some sort of long leafy sprig in his mouth.

Overeager Dog Man finally releases his hold on me, and points to the three individuals conversing around a table. “This is our Pokeuman Rock Troop, a very special branch of our team. Roy, Wendy, Iggy... I have found you a new lead singer!”

Oh, so that's what the whole rush was for! They need a new singer for their rock group! Well why didn't they just say so?! “Nobody told me you were recruiting for a rock band! You should have spoken up earlier! Sure I'll join!”

“Oh marvellous!” Finally Helpful Dog Man answers with a noticeable tinge of fatigue in his voice. “Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go...”

I hear him walk out the hallway and something slam, which might not be the door. And honestly, I don't care. I'm in a rock band now! Awesome! Everbody's always wanted to be in a rock band! Everybody!

Everybody who would otherwise be sent out to the front line at any rate, which is probably what would have happened to me.

“I'm David Anderson” I introduce, holding out my forepaw in what I hope is a friendly enough gesture for these people.

“Yo man, I'm Roy!” States the metal bird. “I'm the drummer here!”

“Name's Wendy.” Declares the brown rabbit. “I'm on bass.”

“And I'm Iggy.” Speaks the giant panda. “I'm the guitarist. We're writing up our latest song right now, come. If you're gonna be our lead singer, you're gonna need to know the lyrics.

“Of course.” I respond. No time like the present to get started. “Lemme see what you got.”

The giant panda hands me a few pieces of paper with... some lyrics on them? I mean, I don't know what else they'd be but...

I want to be, the very best,

Like no one ever was...

“Okay no, these are terrible.”

The three look at me, but I'm not even going to give them a chance to rebut.

“Despite what I look like I'm sixty five years of age, kids. I've been around the younger generation longer than any of you have been alive. Trust me, I know what these kids want. Now write this down...”

---

Finally. It's showtime. It's taken some practice, a bunch of refining, a whole lot of ruined paper and pencils, some coercion, and at least one threat, but our little band is finally getting to perform in front of the entire population of this hole in the ground. The stage is lit, the curtain is lifted, the electronics are all go. We require only the strength to perform.

And blow the whole damn roof off!

An electric guitar riff starts us off, but abruptly transitions into a far more mellow and serious hum.

“Humanity must adapt to survive.”

The tempo picks up slightly, and the drums come in.

“We live in a world of uncertain times,

with new discoveries on a daily basis.

We stand alone in a troubled world,

looking at people with strange new faces.”

Some low bass keeps the mood going.

“Some born to chill, some born to fry.

Some born to live, some born to die.

Some born to swim, some born to fly.

And nobody's asking why.”

Now there's a short drum solo, with the guitar coming in a bit later.

“This is not our world anymore,

we live in a constant state of war.

Our children have never seen the sun,

our siblings are always on the run.

This state of living cannot stand,

We must draw a line in the sand.

Our nation will sand true and proud,

So stand with me, and shout it loud!

The beat and tempo intensifies here. Now we're getting to the good part!

“The age of darkness has begun!

Our war machines block out the sun!

From sea to sea we stand as one!

The age of Supremacy has begun!

The age of darkness has begun!

We hear the cries of everyone!

Our foes discover we've already won!

The age of Supremacy has begun!”

The beats and drumming continues for a short while, then the song concludes.

Once the song finishes, the lights illuminating the stage shut off, allowing us to see the crowd. And they are utterly speechless. No applause, no booing, nothing – they are utterly dumbfounded.

For a moment I pause. Did they not like the song? I take a closer look...

Odd. All their eyes look the same. Red irises with white pupils. I'm certain they weren't like that before. Now I'm not sure what to do. Perhaps I should say something?

“Thank you, you've been a great audience!” They have, really; they sat through the entire song and listened to it, never once interrupting with their own shouting. Honestly I appreciate that, I put in a good hour's work coming up with those lyrics.

The audience does not respond at all.

Okay then... Something else perhaps? “How about a round of applause for all of you?”

My question is answered by the sound of two thousand limbs slapping together in perfect unison. Oh dear god it's a loud sound! And I thought setting the speakers here to eleven was overdoing it! I didn't even know they actually went that high!

That's it though. Exactly one applaud from everyone in the crowd. Now I know something's up. Time to try something very specific.

“Stand on one leg.” I decree to the crowd.

The entire crowd complies, or at least attempts to; those with two legs managing the feat without much trouble, those with more than two having far more problems. Many in the crowd cannot manage this, and fall down off balance, often taking some more people with them. In short order half the crowd has collapsed into a gnarly mess of limbs and appendages.

Oh god, I knew it! These people are brainwashed! I knew it all along! Rock music destroys people's brains! I wrote a paper about this back in high school! Mister Hutchinson was totally wrong to give it a fail, I knew it! It's all the loud music and lyrics destroying people's ability to be decent, free-thinking intelligent beings! It's never had anything to do with Gordan and his own rock group!

This explains everything. Everything wrong with kids these days can be traced back to rock music. Fine. If rock music can break kids, rock music can put them back together again. Just like it did with Humpty Dumpty.

“I want all of you to get up. and go get real jobs.” I dictate, being sure to speak clearly into the microphone. “Go work in a factory or warehouse or army, whatever. Just go do something with your life, and stop playing video games all day and throwing moves at your peers.”

The crowd of people obediently get up and file out of the concert hall in an orderly and efficient manner. Fantastic. Now with the base population doing something worthwhile with their time and energy, we can finally manage to accomplish something here in this dump. And who knows were this will lead? Tanks, plans, cyborgs... the sky's the limit with kids these days.

Hah... I just won the war with rock music. I am the greatest.