Chapter Twenty-Four: Face the Mewsic



Benga's POV



Whatever I was expecting when I turned into that alleyway, it certainly wasn't this.



Coins. Coins everywhere. Countless round, flat disks of shiny. And piled on top of these coins, silver platters of every type of fish available. Baked fish, fried fish, grilled fish, and sushi. Also pizza, burgers, pizza burgers, and multiple strings of frankfurters.



It's a gold mine, not just of gold but of food. And the place is crawling with those very same Meowth-cats that robbed Paul's store. Not just them either -- the place is teeming with Unown as well.



There's chains of beads, stacks of shiny CDs, and a spinning disco ball. And right smack up in the middle of it all, like a king on his throne, sits the big big cat, the one with a jewel set in his forehead, looking smug as a bug in a rug. He lounges on a pillow on top of a stack of pizza boxes, his neck bedecked with glittery necklaces, with a big ol' crown on his head, like he's the king of the world.



Ilima tenses, and I can smell his nervous. "So this is what the Unown have been doing?"



We try to make our hosts feel comfortable, Kappa says telepathically. It appears that my kinfolk encountered these Meowth and decided to entertain them for a while.



"With this? Countless riches and a gravy train? I mean, the food is just common decency, but this much money lying around in a part of town like this is just going to attract trouble!"



The bigger cat looks up and gives Ilima a stare. "Well, well, well. What have we here?"



"Can Persian tell you're a Mew?" Shu whispers to Ilima.



Ilima speaks slowly, with strained patience. "He can now that you've told him. He has very good hearing."



"Look," Terra says, "we just need these Unown to weave their spell over Ilima to keep him safe. Then... I guess they can go back to making kitty treats?"



Kappa shakes its... eye... in what I presume is a 'no' gesture. This cannot end well. Not in a place like this.



The big cat -- Persian, Shu called him -- gives a short laugh. "Ah yes, Tiny. That was your name, wasn't it? The Mew obsessed with being on the other end of Pokemon battles?"



Ilima blushes in embarrassment. "You, ah, still remember that, Pywicket?"



The Persian nods. "You want the power of the Circled Ones to make you look like a human? You'll never be human, no matter what you look like. Might as well give up and enjoy being a Pokemon."



"I can't enjoy anything if I'm captured by Team Rocket," Ilima says, but I can hear the uncertainty in his voice. "Or by any other trainer. I need this."



"You need a nice warm trout, is what you need." Pywicket waves a paw, and a Meowth tosses Ilima a fish that he barely catches. "Maybe after you've got some food in your fuzzy belly you'll be more reasonable."



"I am being reasonable!" Ilima says, a little too loudly. "My best friend got kidnapped protecting me from Team Rocket! I can't put my friends in danger!"



The Unown around us start to slow down. Even the Meowth halt their feeding frenzy to investigate.



"Oh? Your friend?" Pywicket looks interested. "And, pray tell, how do you intend to help him as a human? Because there's a reason humans are always after Mew. It's because they want the power that you seem to have cast aside for foolish reasons."



Ilima looks about to steam. "Foolish? Because I want to protect my friends?"



"Fat lot of good you'll do protecting him as a skinny little human with no powers to speak of. Tell me, would rescuing your friend be easier as a Mew or as a human?"



"It's not what you think!" Ilima sets the trout down on a pile of silver platters. "Sabrina can sense me as a Mew. She could be planning to grab me even now!"



"And how well can you fight back against her if you've lost the very thing that makes you special?"



Gary blinks. "Um... hey, Pinky? Half of us can't speak Cat, remember? What's going on?"



"Hold on a moment," Shu says, fiddling with his N-Comm. "If I can adjust the volume level of the translation..."



That will not be necessary, the Unown say. If you seek a translation, we can provide that.



The Persian grins. "Translation? Don't see what the point is, me talking to a bunch of humans. But if it helps me get the point across to this misguided kitten, sure enough. I'm all for it."



The cat leans in closer to Ilima, looking as if he's about to fall off his pillow. "You think you can convince these Unown to neuter your powers? You'll have to fight me first. And I won't yield easily."



Ilima's eyes gleam. "A battle? I'm always up for proving my worth."



"Just get rid of those silly dishrags you're wearing and face me like a real cat," Pywicket says. "Stark naked."



Ilima winces a little at this last part, but reluctantly nods his head. "All right, then." He starts to glow and shrink again, into his smaller Mew form. His clothes drop to the floor in a bundle, and he psychically pushes them off into a corner.



Pywicket grins, then leaps down from his pillow, shedding the necklaces and crown. "All right, battle's on. Play the music."



"Music?" Ilima asks, just as a Meowth plops a CD into a boombox that seems to have a Rotom inside it. With the press of a button, the music begins to play...



"Well, ol' Ilima hasn't always been this man," Pywicket sings,



"You were a fab little cat once,



"Do you think you can be happy as a clam



"As just a pretty boy, baby



"Did your mother say to listen to your heart



"Be who you are on the inside?



"I need to warn you, and you ought to take to heart



"YOU'RE GONNA DIE!"



Pywicket leaps at Ilima, aiming a Knock Off attack clear at his face. Ilima teleports away, but the momentum from dodging the attack knocks him off balance, straight into a pile of coins that cascade all around him in what looks to be a painful mess indeed.



"You ought to stay tiny!



"You're the cutest little creature that I've met.



"What a pet!"



Ilima grows something and dashes after Pywicket with his claws. The Persian dodges with a swift step the right.



"What makes you so whiny?



"You afraid to take the plunge and risk your neck?



"What the heck?"



Pywicket rams his head into Ilima, sending him flying into a open pizza box, which closes upon impact.



"Don't you know



"You're being dumb, dumb, dumb!



"If you want to call it quitters, like beginners"



Ilima pops out of the box with pizza sauce and pepperoni on his face. He doesn't look happy.



"Well, here I come, come, come



"What's the matter, you got jitters?



"With fighting critters?"



Pywicket leaps into the air, and Ilima quickly teleports a safe distance away as Pywicket collides with the pizza. He doesn't look happy.



"Listen to me, dude



"Unless you want to be food..."



Ilima growls and charges at Pywicket, his body crackling with electricity. This strike hits, shooting sparks all over the alley, singeing the masses of coins piled and stacked in every corner.



Pywicket barely seems affected. In fact, he laughs at it.



"Well, well, well



"Little Mewy's having trouble with his sthick



"You little semi-demi-mini-god,



"What a terrible performance, that's just sick!



"You don't swing it like you used to, Mew!



Ilima shakes his head, but Persian isn't finished.



"Still, I have to give you credit since you're smart



"Though you're not strong on the outside,



"That psychic brain of your is such a work of art



"Why should you hide?"



Ilima shakes his head no. "It's not that simp--"



Then Pywicket leaps right on top of him.



"Can't you stay tiny?



"Keep your dazzle when the battle gets too rough



"Show your stuff!"



Ilima teleports away, looking winded. "But I--"



"You're tough, you'll be fine-y!



"Staying humanoid will never be enough



"Love the fluff, Mewy boy!"



"If you'll just list--"



"You could try, try, try



"But you can't expect a human bod



"To match a demigod"



"Why are you even sing--"



"You would die, die, die



"And Team Rocket would just rip apart



"Your beating heart"



Pywicket starts to stalk Ilima, and the crowd goes quiet. Quieter than usual, at least.



"Don't let the 'Mons that kept taunting you force you



"To try to be human so someone will want you



"You try to be tough, but you never think you're up to snuff"



Ilima doesn't even have anything to say to this. This time, he doesn't try to dodge.



"Tiny!



"I'm gonna kick your heine!



"Never heard a 'Mon so whiny!"



Pywicket pounces, but this time Ilima counter-attacks with his own pointy bits. The two cats roll on the concrete floor littered with coins and various fast food debris.



"Suck it up and be the cat you're meant to be



"Trust in me, mon amie, you're tiny!



"Now I'll beat you, so prepare your final plea



"Just for me!



"You carry that look so finely



"Why wish you weren't soft and tiny?"



There's a flash of light, and Persian is thrown across the alleyway, knocking against the disco ball in the process. A monstrous... thing... with the head of a white bird and a dark, four-legged body rears up its feathered head and crows triumphantly.



Behind that thing is Gladion, stepping into the alley like he owns the place. "Holy crap," he says, staring at Ilima, at the Unown, at all the shiny coins and abundance of food. "What'd I miss?"



Gary turns to Ilima and smirks. "Told'ja they'd let him go."