Palletshippers Rule!
By Ketsuban
The wind blew along the deserted city street as a short blonde-haired girl crept toward a building at the end of the block, staying hidden within the shadows of other buildings.
She glanced down at the stuffy of Coconut that she held and gulped. One wrong move, and it would go off…
Here it was. The Official Fruitshippers HQ. Now, for the honor and dignity of Nutshippers and Explosionshippers everywhere… she placed the doll on the doorstep, rang the doorbell, and ran off.
Someone opened the door. Someone picked up the doll. And someone was blown to smithereens along with the building and everyone inside.
****
Almond stopped at the end of the block and stared as the building went up in flames. Headquarters was…
Oh, God, please don’t let it be a Seasonshipper, he prayed. Let it be an Alienshipper or a Brothershipper, but not a Seasonshipper. And if it was a Seasonshipper, don’t let it be…
He blinked as the figure running from the building came into view. “Ket… Ketsuban.”
She slowed to a halt. “Almond…”
“You just did that, didn’t you?”
Ketsuban nodded. “Ah… I’m glad you weren’t in the building…”
“Yeah, sure you are.”
“I am! I’m getting tired of this just as much as you are, Almond!”
“Then why did you just blow up our headquarters?!”
“Because I was ordered to, okay? I, unlike some people, follow orders.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?!” Almond demanded as Ketsuban skirted around him and started to walk off. “Ketsuban!”
She glared back at him. “One of the most important of orders given to all Nutshippers was to never abandon your cause.”
“I was never a Seasonshipper. I was faking.”
“Uso.”
“Whatever.” Ketsuban waved as she continued to walk off from him.
---
“So, how’d it go?” Treble Clef Jigglypuff asked her back at base.
Ketsuban shrugged. “All right. Mission complete.” She left out the part about meeting Almond.
“Hey, tonight I’m doing with Archaic’s group to raid a PI hideout. Wanna come?”
“Ah… not really.” If it was a Palletshipper versus Pokeshipper thing, Almond would definitely be involved. And besides…
“Why not? You hate the Palletshippers as much as the next Pokeshipper!”
“Well…” Ket rubbed the back of her head anime-style. “I… just don’t wanna, okay?”
“You know…” Jigglypuff put her hands on her hips and stared at Ket. “You never really have taken a side in this one. Come on! All the other ship wars are completely irrelevant compared to this one! Pick a side!”
“I AM a Pokeshipper!” Ket exclaimed. “I… have to go.” She turned and ran from the room.
Jigglypuff snorted and shook her head. “Yeah, whatever.”
---
Little Pikachu sat in her office at Sadistic Poke Toys, Inc., a company which specialized in manufacturing evil Pokemon toys. The latest design, which she was working on, was a Pikachu ketchup dispenser which came complete with poisonous ketchup. The only fans it wouldn’t reach would be those pesky Australians, who didn’t have ketchup…
LP sighed and sat back in her chair, one of those ones that could spin around; but she had no sense of fun, so had never tried it.
Looking out the window, she could see the Official Fruitshippers HQ burning to the ground. Good. Soon, all those pesky shippers would be out of the way…
---
“That good-for-nothing Almond, I’ll show him…”
Ketsuban was sitting in the back of the minivan driven by Barb LeMaster, the oldest member of any shipping organization at 32. The van was usually used to drive her kids to and from school, but under cover of night it became the official transportation method for the Pokeshippers.
There were two others besides herself and Barb in the van – Jigglypuff and Kim. Kim was, as usual, wearing her Mondo t-shirt. Jigglypuff was carrying the bag full of tear gas bombs.
“What makes you think he’ll be there?” Barb asked over her shoulder.
“I just know it,” Ket replied. “The only other place he ever is is the Fruitshipper headquarters, which…”
“Which thanks to you, is no more,” Jigglypuff laughed. “Great job. Seasonshippers all the way!”
“NUTSHIPPERS!”
“Oh, whatever.” Jigglypuff slumped back in her seat and pouted.
Suddenly, the sound of a siren whining could be heard. Barb glanced in the mirror and sighed. “Damn… it’s the cops…”
She pulled over to the side of the road and two cops walked up to the car.
“Yes, officers?” Barb asked, pushing her glasses up on her nose.
“You were driving awfully fast,” the first one said. He was rather short, too short for his uniform, and had on a nametag that read, “Hello, my name is KERO.”
“I’m sorry,” Barb apologized. “It won’t happen again.”
“Where are you headed?”
“Ah…” Barb bit her lip. “I’m driving my daughters home from a baseball game.”
“How old are you? These girls look too old to be your daughters.”
“I’m fifty.”
Ket stifled a giggle as the policeman nodded. “All right.”
He took one more look at the girls, flipped Ket off, and got back on his motorcycle and drove off.
“What was that for?” Kim wondered.
“You don’t want to know. Believe me.” Ketsuban groaned. This was not a good day.
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