A/N Yes, they be older in this fic! Ash is about 15, Misty 16, Brock 18, Delia 30 for who knows how many years. But holy crap--this is gymshippy, hellshippy, egoshippy, kitchenshippy, eldershippy and more all rolled into one in VERY disturbed ways! Enjoy! And yeah, I left out togepi and pikachu. SO SUE ME! Maybe they're evolved and in pokeballs at this time.

Freaky Fraturday

            "You spin me right round baby right round like a record baby right round round round!" The miserably drunken pokemon sang into the karaoke machine while teetering at the edge of the stage, seemingly about to fall off at any moment.

            "I think you've had enough," the bartender pokemon shook his head as he reached up to drag the young female pokemon off the stage and put her to bed before she could get into any real drunken trouble.

            "Ack ya tackin' me!" Celebi shouted, zapping various pokemon in the realm with a drunken, miscellaneous attack.

            "Calm down!" the bartender, a graveler, insisted. He thought he'd be dead if hit with a grass attack, but whatever Celebi was doing, it didn't bring harm to those who were hit by it.

            "I feel funny," Celibi blinked, suddenly sobered. She looked down only to find another celebi in her arms!

            "Wow!" she gushed, "I thought I was the only celebi!"

            But then she noticed that her arms were made of rock.

            "Ack!" she began to freak, "I turned myself into a rock pokemon!"

            "No yer didn't," the faux celebi hiccuped, futilely trying to wrestle away from graveler-celebi, "you got my body, yer ah yes."

            "Awwww shoot," Celebi cringed, wondering how the hell she would teach the graveler in her body to reverse what had been done. At least it only affected them.

            "Hot damn!" someone shouted from across the room, "I'm a pikachu!"

            "Noooo," someone else shouted, "I'm a psyduck!"

            Or, maybe the effects weren't so localized.

            "Jenny Jenny Joy Joy," Brock sang in his sleep, still proud of himself for making up new lyrics to Stimpy's infamous happy happy joy joy song.

            "Yes," Misty snored softly, "that's my psyduck. You want to give me a million for him? Ehehehea," she drooled a little.

            "Food," Ash snored.

            Ash woke a little as his pack seemed to move next to him.

            "Mom must have rattatas in her house," he groaned, waking up with argumentative eyes and waddling over to where his pack resided. "I'm sure," he yawned, "bulber-soooo," his eyes closed, but he opened them again quickly, yawning, "one of them can take care of it."

            He lifted his pack, only to find that the problem was coming from the inside. The bag shifted to the left as he picked it up, and he sweat dropped a little as he fumbled with the zipper.

            "I bet the rat ate all my food," he grumbled, opening the bag. His eyes widened as he looked inside, and he lifted the GS ball carefully, thinking he saw it glow moments before.

            "Yow!" he whimpered as something struck him, and he dropped it to the floor. The whole house seemed consumed with light momentarily.

            "Hallucinating," he shook his head, and went back to sleep.

-~-~-~-~

Brock whistled cheerily as he scrambled the eggs in the pan with fervor.

Ms. Ketchum sure buys some heavy pans, he grumbled. He was still sleepy, which was odd, because he was never sleepy in the morning.

Losin' weight too, he grumbled, looking at his arms. And damn, I need to work on my tan some, he yawned, more. Two days in a house and I get all pale.

            "Oh," he began to sing, then began coughing heavily, his face reddening with each hack.

            "Wanna kill us, Misty?" Delia shook her head at Brock. "You're probably choking on the smoke from whatever you're cooking."

            "Huh?" Brock looked down at himself.

            "I'm a girl!" he shouted, dropping the frying pan. He began running around the room frantically. "How could I not have noticed that I had boobs when I woke up this morning?"

            "Whadaya mean?" Delia sniggered, "you still don't--"

            "What's going on here?" Misty walked in the room, and then began clutching at her throat. "Ack, how did I get such a deep voice? And so tan? And so hairy!"

            "My body!" Brock cried, running up to Misty and throwing his skinny white arms around his rightful body. "Why did you leave me?"

            "Huh?" Misty blinked, and then realized that she was in Brock's pajamas.

            "Argh!" she slapped her head, "I'm you, you're me, how didn't I notice?"

            "It must have felt natural," Brock bit his lip, "unconsciously, when we woke up, shit, I dunno!"

            Brock and Misty then both turned toward Delia, their eyes wide.

            "Delia," Brock narrowed his eyes, "it seems strange to me that you would insult me so much. Delia."

            "Huh?" Delia blinked, then looked down at her clothes. "Oh my god! I'm my MOM!"

            "It's Ash," Misty whispered. "Then that means--"

            "How did I end up in Ash's room?" Delia wondered, walking into the kitchen. "Hey--what the--" her eyes bugged out as she saw herself standing in her kitchen.

            "Mom," Ash began playing with his mom's hair which was now on his head, "damn, that's weird," he commented, then continued, "we switched bodies."

            Delia collapsed to the ground, Ash's hat lolling off her head as she did so.

            "We've gotta get him," Brock began, "her, uh, the fainted person to a bed."

            He walked over and tried to lift Delia up, nearly giving himself a hernia.

            "Blockhead," Misty rolled her eyes, then whacked Brock upside the head. He went flying across the floor into the kitchen cupboards.

            "Be careful with my body!" Misty shouted.

            "You're the one who hit me across the room!"

            "I wasn't trying to!"

            Misty then picked up Delia and put him, her, uh, herm over her newly-widened right shoulder and began walking up the stairs.

            Misty the Brock came back downstairs only to find Brock the Misty and Ash the Delia staring blankly at each other.

            "What the hell happened here?" Misty broke the silence.

            "I dunno," Brock replied, pulling the ponytail out of his hair, "but I think you need to use a gentler shampoo, Misty, your hair is like straw."

            "Why I oughta--" Misty fumed, her face turning red.

            "Now now now," Brock grinned widely, "you wouldn't hit a girl, now would you?"

            "For you I'd make an exception!" Misty grumbled, but lowered her arms and brought her fists to her sides.

            "I don't want to be my mooom!" Ash whined, "and I really have to go to the bathroom!"

            "Oh it's easy," Misty rolled her eyes, "you just sit and go, I mean, it's not a big deal, I do it every day."

            "It's not that," Ash began dancing around in his discomfort, "I don't think it's nice to, uh, well, she's my mom!"

            "It wouldn't be very nice to piss on her clothes, either," Brock mentioned. "Go for it, Ms. Ketchum."

            Ash growled and flipped Brock off then ran to the bathroom.

            Misty's darkened face suddenly paled, and she ran her hands through her newly spiked hair nervously.

            "Don't worry," Brock laughed, "I don't care if you see my--"

            "No," Misty clenched her teeth; "I don't want you to see me naked!"

             "Whoa," Brock's eyes suddenly widened, "I forgot I had boobs now!" He pulled on Misty's collar as to look down at her former chest, but was stopped as his head suddenly jerked sideways; his cheek filled with pain.

            "Damn Misty," Brock let her shirt go, "I just wanted to take a peek!"

            "No, you, you pervert!" Misty raised her hand to slap Brock's other cheek, but couldn't bring herself to bludgeon her own body once again.

            "Fine," Brock muttered and rubbed his cheek, never knowing before he had that much strength, "I won't look."

            "Good!" Misty calmed down, feeling that she had triumphed.

            Brock looked away, sneakily raising his hands to his chest, thinking Misty had looked away. He casually began to cop a feel when he found himself on the ground, the back of his head throbbing maniacally.

            "Damn, Misty," he whimpered, "watch it, I hit a lot harder than you, you know!"

            "Try me!" Misty laughed.

            "No," Brock grumbled, "my hands hit harder than yours, you're gonna kill me if you don't watch it!"

            "Then quit feeling me--yourself, well ME up!" she yelled, feeling quite confused when she was through.

            "You won't be able to watch me in the bathroom," his eyes lit up mischievously as Ash returned to them.

            "I'm gonna diiiie," Ash's face was extremely pale, and he seemed mortified as he stiffly waddled over to the kitchen table and plunked down dejectedly.

            "My turn!" Brock shouted with glee, and began to run toward the bathroom.

            "Ohhh no," Misty caught his arm, "not without me, you aren't!"

            "You can't go with me to the bathroom!" Brock blinked, "it wouldn't be right!"

            "Letting you go alone would be worse," Misty justified, pulling Brock by her former ear into the bathroom.

            "You guys SUCK!" Ash cried, wondering where his mother's stash of booze was as he sat alone.

            "Okay," someone gulped from the bottom of the staircase, "this is a dream, a bad, weird dream, and I did not just piss all over the floor while trying to pee standing up--"

            "Mom!" Ash blinked, and ran over to his diminutive mother. He bent over and hugged her, much as she had always bent over and hugged him when they were in their respective bodies. "It's not a dream!"

            "Then," Delia's eyebrows furrowed, and she looked up into her own face with a denial only matched by Brock who was acting as if it were all a game. "How, Ash?"

            "I have no idea!" Ash frowned, "we woke up this way!"

            "Misty!" Misty's voice rang from the bathroom, "I can hold it for you, I swear! It's mine, it's not gross!"

            "God no!" Brock's voice screeched back at Misty's, "I don't want my virgin hands defiled!"

            "Virgin hands," Misty's voice chortled, "ha!"

            "Why you," Brock's voice rang with fury, and a huge slap could be heard, even into the kitchen.

            "Why you gotta hit so haaard?" Misty's voice whimpered.

            "Oh my God," Delia nearly jumped out of her skin, "they're in the bathroom together? And Brock just hit Misty! I can't believe he would--"

            "Mom," Ash shook his mom gently, trying to get her to calm down, "Misty and Brock traded bodies. Misty hit Brock, not the other way around."

            "But why are they in there together?"

            "You don't want to know."

            "I can figure this out," Brock's voice became softer and more contemplative. "If an idiot like you can figure it out, so can I."

            "I've had fifteen years of practice," Misty's voice grumbled.

            "Shut up," Brock's voice ordered. "I'm concentrating."

            Misty tried to get herself to go, but couldn't bring herself to pee standing up. It was just too foreign, and seemed almost barbaric.

            "Screw it," she muttered, and put the seat down and sat on it. "I don't see why this won't work."

            "It will," Brock sighed, "but I'm not two anymore, you know."

            "Well I'm a beginner, damnit," Misty growled.

            Brock had nearly sneaked out of the room when Misty had finished and began grabbing a large wad of toilet paper from the roll.

            "Misty?" Brock coughed to interrupt her as she began wiping feverously, having a hard time.

            "What," she grumbled and stood, flushing the toilet and pulling her pants back on.

            "We usually don't," he began, then gulped as her hands stopped rubbing together as she washed them at the sink, "wipe when we go pee. Sorry."

            "Ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!" Misty screamed, and ran out of the bathroom without even drying her hands. "Oh, geez, ewwwwwwwww!"

            Brock meekly walked out of the bathroom, watching as Misty began running around in circles in the kitchen.

            "What's wrong with him, I mean her?" Ash asked, still holding onto his hyperventilating mom.

            "It's her first day as a guy," Brock shrugged, "she's bound to get a little upset."

            "My mom's having the same problem," Ash shrugged. "I don't think it's hit us yet. How the hell could this happen?"

            "I don't know," Brock blinked, "I don't know everything!"

            "Chill," Ash pulled a hand off of his mom's waist and began rubbing his right temple, "I'll--I'll think of a way out of this. Don't you worry."

            "Yeah," Brock shook his head. "I feel a whole lot better now. But at least Misty isn't paying attention to me!" he realized with glee, and he tried looking down at his new breasts.

            "Damn you!" Misty shouted, placing her huge brown hands around Brock's slender white neck. Brock actually began to truly panic as Misty had been far too rough with him before.

            "Stop!" he nearly sobbed, hardly able to speak as his breathing was halted, "stop! Stop! You're gonna kill me!"

            Misty stopped and put her hands on her hips. "I ought to!" she fumed, "you pervert!"

            "Kill me," he frowned, "and we can never be ourselves again, Misty. I'm not playing around--you really could kill me."

            "Oh I could not," she snorted, "I barely touched you."

            "Fine," Brock closed his eyes and turned away, "don't believe me."

            He stormed off into the living room, pouting miserably.

            "It must be the girl hormones," Ash shook his head sagaciously, and was pushed away gently by his mother.

            "What's that supposed to mean, young man?" his own eyes looked up at him scoldingly. "And where did you learn that word?"

            "Mom," Ash whined, "I'm fourteen years old, I know what hormones are!"

            "I'm surprised you remembered something with that many syllables," Misty giggled, and then tried to escape the room to sit by her old body.

            "Are you inferring that my son is stupid, young man?" Delia fumed.

            "I'm a girl!" Misty yelled, clenching her fists at her sides.

            "You're quite a violent young woman," Delia shook her head. "It's a good thing you really aren't a guy, or you would have been arrested!"

            Misty simply fumed off, not wanting to risk a fight with Ms. Ketchum, although being in Ash's body made it seem quite inviting.

            Ash and his mother then looked at each other, not remembering that they had a score to settle, and followed Misty into the living room.

            "Just how are we gonna get out of this?" Delia shook her head in sorrow.

            "We need to figure out how it happened, first," Misty grumbled.

            "I have an idea!" Ash jolted to his feet.

            "You?" Misty spat.

            "Quiet Satan," Ash ordered, "look, all we have to do is get someone who's a really lousy cook like Misty to make some curry, and then my mom and I will eat off the same plate, and Brock and Misty will eat off the same plate, and then they'll be an explosion, and--"

            "You've been watching all of my shojo anime again, haven't you?" Delia accused her son. "I told you to keep out of my DVD's without asking!"

            "Oy vey," Misty shook her head.

            "I think the only thing left to do is find a mad neurologist to give us all brain transplants," Brock sighed, speaking with such seriousness and resignation that everyone looked up at him, one large bead of sweat adorning their hair.

            "What?" Brock asked defensively, obviously thinking highly of his plan. "It would be a good opportunity for the scientist, and then we'd be in our rightful bodies!"

            "I think we should tell professor Oak about it," Delia interjected, but was quickly subdued by a chorus of dissent

            "He'll think we're nucking futz!" Brock added more loudly then all other arguments, finding one advantage to being Misty temporarily. "He won't be able to help other than sending us to the looney bin!"

            "All right all right," Delia held up her hands in protest, "it was just a suggestion!"

            Silence overcame the four as they pondered without sharing. Delia was surprised at the look of fruitless consternation which fell over her real face as they contemplated. She didn't think she could ever make herself look so--so--she refused to think dumb, so she decided on absent minded.

            Misty seemed to be falling asleep, but Brock blinked as he noticed Delia's face suddenly change. Her chin began to quiver, and it was obvious that she was fighting back tears.

            "Now now Ms. Ketchum," Misty's body ran up to comfort Ash's body, which is as pokeshippy as this is gonna get, from hell it may be. "I'll think of something! I promise! They don't call me Brock the Rock for nothing!"

            Delia looked up at Brock with Ash's brown eyes for a moment, seeming to cheer up, then began sobbing even harder.

            "You just look like a little red-haired GIRL to me right now!" she pointed out. "And Misty looks like an adolescent male! We have NO IDEA how we got into this mess! How can we possibly get out?"

            "I guess brain transplants are out of the question?" Brock bit his lip in defeat, sighing as he induced her to cry more upon his shoulder.

            Misty was going to mention that she didn't want Ash cooties all over her shoulder, but decided to pass since it was probably the nicest thing she had done for someone else in a long time, even though she wasn't present in her body.

            "I got it!" Ash suddenly stood up. "I'll get on the Internet and see if anyone else has had a similar problem! I see people get cured all the time like that on 20/20!"

            "We switched bodies, Ash," Misty gritted her teeth, "I guaranTEE you that it has not happened to anyone before."

            "I say it's worth a try," Brock contradicted, "it's not like we have many other options. Go to Bill's Website--hasn't he switched bodies with a pokemon before?"

            "I think he just became a pokemon," Misty grumbled, not liking the idea of being overruled, "but I guess it couldn't hurt."

            "Ash, you're in charge of that, k?" Brock nodded to him as if bestowing a very important duty.

            "Aye aye!" Ash saluted Brock, then ran upstairs, causing Delia to cringe as he bonked into the wall as if it were nothing on the way.

            "That's gonna leave a bruise," she sighed. "Let's just play boggle until he's done. Maybe something will come to us when we're not thinking about it."

            "That's the spirit!" Brock agreed, and Misty looked at the two as if they were nuts.

            Five board games, three with Ash, lunch and dinner later, none of them had come up with a single solution or even possible place to begin solving their little problem.

            Ding-dong.

            "Oh shit," Delia clenched her teeth, "this isn't a good time."

            "I'd better get that!" Ash declared, vaulted from the couch and began to run for the door, but he found he couldn't run as fast as his Ash-body, and his mother overtook him, answering the door before he could.

            Ash sweat dropped as Delia threw the door open, letting moonlight stream into the room. The figure in front of Delia was shadowed as the light was too dim to allow those used to the light of the room to make out who was there.

            "Sam!" Delia gushed, clasping her hands together, "and Gary, too! My, how you've grown young man!" she tried to bend over to pat Gary's head, but found she had to stand up even straighter. This didn't bring a reality check, however. "Why don't you come visit your poor auntie Delia, sometime, huh?"

            "Um," Gary blinked, not really knowing what to say, "she's not my aunt."

            "Huh?" Delia cocked her head sideways in puzzlement. Ash pulled her away from the door, sweat dropping all the while.

            "Sorry," Ash grinned widely and bowed his head in shame, "he's been sick lately."

            "Well," a rather bewildered Professor Oak began, "seeing as both Gary and Ash were in town I decided to pay a visit. We can all do some catching up."

            "With that j--" Ash began, but his mouth was covered by Brock's Misty hands.

            "She's been sick too," Brock tried his best to giggle, but sounded more like a squeaking mouse as he wasn't accustomed to such girly behavior.

            "Riiiight," Oak blinked, remaining silent for a moment.

            Brock removed his femme hands from Ash's mouth, allowing him to play the role of Delia once again.

            "Sorry," she-he smiled, "I'm under a lot of stress right now."

            "I understand," Oak cleared his throat, pretending nothing was strange. "Have I come at a bad time?"

            "Well actually," Ash began, but his mom in Ash's body interrupted him.

            "Ohhh, no," she laughed, "I'm never too busy for you, Sam, I'll make some cookies."

            Gary and Professor Oak stared blankly as "Ash" pranced merrily into the kitchen to make them some cookies.

            "Um," the real Ash sweat dropped and giggled nervously, "he's just a chip of the old block, eh?"

            "And did we mention he's on medication?" Misty added, much to Ash's chagrin.

            "I'll have the doctor take a look at him later," Oak twitched, then his demeanor switched entirely, and he walked over to Delia and clasped her hands. "It's good to have us all together again," he began his speech while Ash felt that he'd have to burn his palms, "until Ash goes back on his journey, that is."

            "Well, uh," Ash gulped loudly as he tried to think of what his mom would say, "yeah."

            "You seem nervous Delia," Oak turned his head, "did I say something wrong?"

            "No," he laughed, putting a hand behind his head nervously and quickly pulling it away after feeling all the hair there, "I'm just stressed, is all. Ash is a lot of work, you know, ah, so, uh--"

            "Why didn't you say so?" Oak let Ash's hands go and clasped them together; "Gary is going to a party tonight! He can take the kids and let you relax."

            "A party?" Ash blinked, "with him? I--"

            "He's a good kid Ms. Ketchum," Brock interjected, "he'd probably be insulted if you thought otherwise."

            "Oh yeah," Ash laughed nervously, "right. Well, I guess it's okay with me."

            "Grandpa!" Gary barked, "you can't invite other people to the party!"

            "Quiet, Gary," Oak whispered back at him, "you'll take them or you won't go at all."

            Stupid old bastard, Gary thought, saddling me with a bunch of losers.

            Delia/Ash walked back into the room donning a pink apron and matching oven mitts.

            "It'll be ready in about fifteen minutes," she crooned, "just sit tight!"

            "Um Ash," Brock walked up to Delia and put a hand on her shoulder, "we're going to a party tonight to give your mom a rest."

            "A party?" Ash blinked, "do I know the parents? When will you be back? What kind of a party is it?"

            "You're going," Brock whispered in her ear, "you're Ash, remember?"

            "Oh," Delia frowned and looked to the ground. "Right."

            "Mommomomomomomomomomom!" Ash ran over and began whispering in her ear, "you can't leave me alone with Professor Oak and go to a party!"

            "Dear," Delia patted her son's back, "we can't appear suspicious, now can we? No one will believe what happened. You just act like me and take care."

            "But it's not faaaaaaair," Ash whined.

            "Now Ash," Delia looked at him sternly, "I did not raise you to be a whiner. You'll get to go to the party next time."

            "What are you weirdoes whispering about?" Gary shook his head in confusion.

            "Don't be rude, Gary," Oak chastised, though he was curious as well.

            "We're done now," Ash's voice replied to Gary, "I was just telling them how to behave at the party." Delia then turned to Ash. "Now, give me a kiss before we go."

            "Awww," Delia's voice whined, "do I have to? In front of everybody?"

            "Don't you love me anymore?" Delia laid the guilt on thick.

            "Oh all right," Ash grumbled, then planted a kiss upon his former cheek.

            "Wow," Gary could hardly contain his laughter as he muttered to himself, "Ash is such a loser even his own mom doesn't want to kiss him!"

            "Well," Oak coughed, breaking the silence, "you guys better get going! Be home by midnight!"

            "Grandpa!" Gary became livid, "you never make me come home at midnight!"

            "Ash is too young to stay out later," Oak reasoned, looking up at Delia for backup.

            "Yeah," Delia agreed, Ash's voice, that is.

            "He is not!" Delia-shaped Ash stamped his foot, causing Oak and Gary to share a brief moment of confusion. "He can stay out as late as Gary! Gary's not more mature than he is!"

            "If," Oak blinked away his surprise as he stuttered, "I-if you s-say so."

            "I do say so," Ash hmphed. "Be back whenever Gary has to be back."

            "You know y--I have a curfew!" Ash's voice fumed as he held his fists to his sides.

            "But Gary doesn't have a curfew!" Delia's voice whined.

            "Do I look like Gary to you?" Ash's voice shouted back.

            "But M--Aaaash--"

            "Well, I guess since Brock and Misty are here, it's all right, but we're going to have a long talk when we get home!"

            "Awww nuts," Ash pouted.

            "The kid sure disciplines himself for being such a handful," Oak muttered to no one in particular.

            "We have to wait for the cookies to get done," the person who appeared to be Ash smiled, almost lovingly at Professor Oak. Oak began to sweat a little.

            "Go ahead," Delia patted a cushion welcomingly for the Professor, "sit down while we wait, it'll just be a few minutes."

            Everyone shuffled around as they tried to take their seats. Brock jumped a little as Gary sat down next to him, and Oak blinked in what seemed to be a surreal existence as Ash nearly cuddled up next to him and Delia sat beside Brock and Misty.

            "Geez," Oak grumbled inwardly, "it's almost as if they switched personalities."

            "I'll go check on the cookies!" Delia announced, then bolted up and headed for the kitchen.

            "Oh I hope they're chocolate chip," Ash crossed his woman-fingers, "s--he makes the best chocolate chip cookies!"

            "Really?" Oak coughed, "I've never had the pleasure of tasting Ash's--coo--" it was already too late, "cookies."

            Gary, Brock, and Misty really couldn't stifle the giggles on that one.

            "Allllll ready!" Ash's voice crooned sweetly once again as his pink-mitted hands entered the living room, a plate of cookies in tow.

            The group ate all the cookies awkwardly, Delia being the only one obliviously happy.

            So that's why Ash has the great ability to totally forget very important things, Misty thought as she bit into a cookie. Mmm, Ash's cookies ARE good.

            "Gotta go," Gary announced after eating a cookie and tried to sneak out the door, conveniently forgetting his passengers.

            "Young man," Oak scolded, "don't forget your guests!"

            "Well," Gary sighed in defeat, "hurry up!"

            "Hold your pants on young man," Ash's finger pointed at Gary as his voice commanded, "I have to wash my hands after eating first. That goes for you too, A--D--Mom!"

            "But my hands aren't dirty!" Delia's voice whined.

            "Now!" Ash's voice ordered, and they both went into the kitchen.

            "They're both on medication," Misty covered up.

            "Definitely on meds," Brock agreed.

            I've gotta get OUT of this somehow! Gary plotted as Ash and Delia washed up in the kitchen. . .

---------------------------------------------------

            "I can't believe I got stuck taking you losers to my party!" Gary fumed.

            "You ever call me a loser again and I'll rip your head off and shove it down your throat!" Misty shouted in Brock's voice.

            Brock quickly covered her mouth and attempted to shove her into a seat cushion. "Sorry, she's been a little upset lately," he grinned widely, and then let Misty go. "So, ah, Gary, how's life been?"

            "You'll let her call you a she," Gary raised an eyebrow, ignoring Brock's question in its entirety, "but you threaten me if I call you a loser?"

            "That's because," Misty began to stumble on her words, "well, I didn't notice, so fuck off!"

            Delia wagged her finger in Misty's face angrily, "you watch your mouth young lady!"

            "Yeah," Brock chastised as well, "behave, young woman, or do I have to take you to the bathroom?"

            "Why you!" Misty shouted, and whacked Brock upside the head once again.

            "Hey!" Gary shouted, "there will be no hitting girls in my car! I'm gonna pull over and make you get out, asshole! That is, after I punch you out!"

            "He's no girl!" Misty argued, "and I could kick your--"

            "If you all don't stop this nonsense this instant," Delia screamed above them all, "I am going to inform all of your parents to ground you immediately!"

            "You've been hanging around your mother too much, Ketchum," Gary shook his head.

            "My," Delia paused for a moment, and then remembered that Gary didn't know she was really Delia in Ash's body. "Look, my mother is an excellent influence, and if she knew what bad influences her son's friends were, she might make him stay home next time he wants to wander off to catch pokemon!"

            "Ms. Ketchum," Brock whispered into Delia's ear, "we're not usually this bad, I just don't think Misty can handle the testosterone."

            "Hmph," Delia crossed her arms.

            "Whatever," Gary shook his head and disgust, then pulled into a driveway, "just keep the hell away from me while we're here, okay? And tell my grandfather NOTHING of what happens, or I'll tell your mom about that time you dressed as a girl to sneak into that gym they wouldn't let you into!"

            Delia's eyes simply widened in horror. She was about to question further when stopped by Brock's voice, as soothing as he could muster using Misty's vocal chords.

            "That was a long time ago," he patted Delia's back. "Let's just go have a good time."

            "Smartest thing I've heard all day," Gary agreed. "You know Misty, you're all right."

            Brock blushed in horror for a moment, wondering if Gary was developing a crush on "her." It was entirely possible with his dashing personality and Misty's hot bod, but still, he didn't want to give Gary the wrong impression.

            "Thanks," Brock's voice replied.

            "YOU," Gary growled, "YOU are one word or movement away from having your nads torn off!"

            "Why I oughta--" Misty raised a fist, but Brock grabbed it before she could get them in any real trouble.

            "You're eighteen, remember, BROCK?" Brock asked Misty, staring at himself intently. "No threatening minors, and I mean it."

            "All right," she sighed, "I'm sorry, I don't want to get myself in trouble. If you catch my drift."

            "I do," Brock whispered.

            The car pulled up to a rather impressive two-story house, a rather impressive two-story house with a rather impressive swimming pool which could be seen in the back yard from the front yard.

            "Sweet," Brock grinned widely as they stepped out of the car into the rather warm night air.

            "I know," Gary stood beside him, "isn't it? A really cute chick is throwing this party, though you're probably cuter."

            Brock blushed again, and then edged away from Gary.

            "Now I'm sure you're just being--nice," Brock laughed nervously while Misty proceeded to laugh inwardly, "I'm not all that--cute."

            Misty suddenly became a little angered, but forgot quickly as Gary pressed on.

            "Oh sure you are," he grinned. "I bet the guys here will be all over you! I could always keep them off of you, if you want."

            "No," Brock's eyes began darting everywhere as he plotted escape, "I can handle myself, thanks."

            "If you say so," Gary shrugged, "let's get going."

            The four "kids" walked up to the door of the house, and Delia could hardly contain her disapproval as three teens stood chatting outside the door with beer in their hands.

            The scene upon the dewy lawn was nothing, however, compared to the body-induced humidity which flowed around the toasted citizens which resided in the house. The living room was dark albeit a few disco lamps and black lights, but the scent of booze hung lightly upon the air, making it obvious that the teens were indulging themselves illegally.

            "Please Delia," Brock put his hands on her Ash-like shoulders, "just survive this for the sake of our predicament."

            "I think I'll go for a swim," she replied, in a voice so incredibly high pitched, shocked, and small that Brock nearly didn't hear her.

            Good idea, Brock thought, assuming that no one would want to swim while drunk.

            "Want one?" Gary came up to Brock as Ash left, wielding some sort of drink. "Mixed it myself."

            Well, Brock thought, I could probably use one.

            "Thanks," Brock grinned awkwardly while taking the drink.

            "Can you hold your liquor?" Gary asked. "It's vodka and orange juice."

            "Hell yeah," Brock laughed, "it would take about five of these to get me toasted."

            "Whoa," Gary's eyes widened. "If you say so!"

            Brock gulped down the drink, not entirely too fond of its pungent flavor, but desiring some relaxation during his predicament.

            "Want another?" Gary asked, still boggling over how handily Misty handled such strong drinks.

            "Sure," Brock shrugged. "Why not?"

            Misty, the mind of Misty in Brock's bod, had decided to wall herself up in a corner for a bit. She was having a good time staring at the opposing wall when she was approached by a very familiar face.

            "Brock!" a young male called, "do you realize Misty is over there drinking one vodka after another? She's gonna get wasted!"

            Ignoring this comment, Misty was suddenly struck with an idea.

            She could convince Tracey that she was Misty and not Brock for sure!

            "Tracey," she grabbed his shoulders, "I don't know what you're doing here and frankly I don't care, but I'm not Brock! You have to believe me!"

            Tracey's face fell as he squirmed beneath Misty's Brock hands.

            "Uh," Tracey began to sweat, "let's go--ask Misty about--that--okay?"

            "I know you think I'm just crazy," Misty clenched tighter in her desperation, "but I can prove it! Ash me something that only you would know and not Brock!"

            "What ever happened between you and professor Ivy?" Tracey grinned smugly.

            "Nothing," Misty fumed, "I'm not a lesbian! Be serious!"

            "Whoa," Tracey's eyes boggled, "you didn't freak out, that's one point for your argument. But if you really are nuts, then you might be able to suppress that."

            "Ask more then," Misty dug her nails into Tracey's shoulders.

            "Let go then," Tracey ordered.

            "Sorry," Misty put a hand behind her head nervously; "I don't know my own strength now."

            "Riiiight," Tracey's lip twitched, and he began to ask a string of questions about the orange islands, all of which "Misty" answered correctly. He still dismissed them all as things Misty could have told him, but he was slowly being convinced.

            "Okay," he held up his hands, "Misty never would have told you this, because she didn't even know--"

            "I AM Misty!" Misty stamped her foot.

            "We'll see," Tracey grinned. "When on the orange islands I picked up Misty's diary and thought it was my sketchbook. I read the first page not knowing what it was. Do you or you not like Ash?"

            Misty blinked hard, confused as to what her diary had to do with that question. "Dude, the first page of my diary was all about how my sisters bug the crap out of me, I didn't even KNOW Ash when I wrote it! And why didn't you just put it down you little piece of--"

            "Oh lord!" Tracey stepped away from Misty momentarily, "you ARE Misty! How the HELL did this happen?"

            Misty sighed and looked away, forgetting momentarily about Tracey's heinous crime. "We woke up this way this morning. Things have been crazy ever since."

            "Wow," Tracey shook his head. "So, Brock is in your body?"

            "You got it," Misty sighed.

            "Oh damn," Tracey laughed, "Gary just told me he thinks Misty is really cool and he was going to try and dance with her! He'll die when he--"

            "Like he's going to believe this," Misty sighed. "Although yeah, that is pretty damn funny."

            "We should tell Professor Oak," Tracey nodded. "He'll believe me after I tell him how you proved it. Maybe he'll have an idea."

            "I'm pretty desperate," Misty admitted, "I think that's a good idea too. I'm just SO glad you believe me!"

            "It's weird," Tracey bit his lip, "but undeniable. Unless Brock read your diary too. But you seemed too sincere."

            "Please don't start doubting me again," Misty pouted. "Can't you take that combined with the other questions you asked as proof?"

            "I have one last idea," Tracey smirked, then waved his hand, "follow me."

            Tracey and Misty made their way through the crowd to the now tipsy Brock who was working on his third vodka.

            "Hey," Tracey tapped him on the shoulder. "Have you heard anything from Professor Ivy lately?"

            Brock's Misty face suddenly paled, and he dropped his drink and fell to the ground.

            "Please," he shook, "don't mention her, please--"

            "Hey!" Gary shouted, running up to Brock with two drinks in hand, automatically assuming that Misty the Brock had done something.

            "What did you do to her?" Gary shouted, ready to pummel Misty into dust.

            "Nothing," Brock whimpered, standing back up. "I fell and they came to see if I was okay."

            He still glared angrily at Tracey, but made up the story all the while.

            "I have no doubts in my mind," Tracey looked to Misty. "Let's go call Oak."

            "He's at Ash's house," Misty replied as they walked to the phones.

            "Are you all right?" Gary asked softly, putting a hand on Brock's shoulder in a tender gesture. "You can tell me if he did something to you--don't protect him--"

            "No," Brock nodded, "I really fell. Honest."

            A maid came to clean the carpet, and Gary and Brock stepped out of the way.

            "Here," Gary sighed, "I brought you another drink."

            "Thanks," Brock grasped it almost hungrily. I REALLY need it now, he grumbled in thought.

            "What?" the voice on the receiver seemed panicked.

            "Ash?" Brock's voice seemed surprised, "are you all right?"

            "No!" Ash shouted. "Oak, he, he, HE TRIED TO KISS ME!"

            Misty put a hand to her mouth, wondering what kind of a pervert Oak was before remembering that he still thought Ash was Delia.

            "He wanted to kiss your mom, not you, dingus!" Misty groaned, "man, I needed to talk to him!"

            "He's still here," Ash replied, and a large thud could be heard on the receiver.

            "Even though you rejected him?" Misty boggled.

            "Errr," Ash bit his lip, "I'd better just give him the phone."

            Misty waited for Oak to answer, but the old man seemed winded and frightened as he began babbling into the receiver.

            "Why does Delia think I hit on her mom?" Oak seemed to be on the verge of tears, "I told her that I'm sorry but she won't believe me! She's gone crazy and hits me with the broom if I try to leave the closet!"

            Misty nearly began laughing, but instead coughed away the humor of it and decided to be frank. "Wait for us to get home. There's a VERY good explanation for all of this."

            "I sure hope so!" Oak's voice was shaky, "that broom really hurts!"

            "One way," a voice came from the stage, "or another, I'm gonna find ya, I'm gonna getcha getcha getcha getcha one day, maybe next week, I'm gonna win ya, I'll getcha--"

            "Dear lord," Misty's Brock-face suddenly paled, and she ran from the phone, handing the phone to Tracey.

            "Yeah baby!" some males called from the audience. Gary seemed peeved at them, and was even more peeved as Misty nearly knocked him over to reach the front of the stage.

            Brock's dancing was rather seductive as he pranced around the stage, his drunkenness obviously removing all inhibitions.

            "She said she could hold her liquor!" Gary frowned, feeling responsible.

            "Are you kidding?" Misty blanched, "I--she can't drink a wine cooler without getting tipsy!"

            "Oh shit," Gary's face fell.

            "Catch me!" Brock shouted, then yanked off his shirt and jumped into the crowd.

            "Damn you!" Misty shouted as her body was caught by a mob of males who began molesting it severely.

            "Hey!" Gary shouted, running into the crowd, punching every guy he could reach and trying to pry Brock the Misty from their drunken clutches. Misty the Brock joined in, prying them from her body with fervor.

            Misty grabbed Brock and lifted him from the ground, running as she carried him to safety, Gary following with Misty's removed shirt in tow.

            "Get her to a bedroom," Gary shouted over the party noise and the sound of Brock's crying and screaming.

            "Got it," Misty complied, her heart pounding. On one hand she wanted to kill Brock. On the other hand--she--well, wanted to kill him.

            The bedroom was veeeery nice. The girl who owned the place's bedroom seemed nearly as big as the Cerulean Gym, and the bed seemed as if it belonged in a palace.

            Misty laid Brock down on the bed and then tried to calm him down.

            "Be quiet," she fumed. Gary relinquished the shirt so that Brock could clothe himself.

            "I'll go get her some food and drink," Gary sighed, nearly painfully. "She'll need it to sober up."

            "Good idea," Misty agreed, wanting a moment alone with Brock more than his sobriety.

            She watched like a hawk as Gary exited the room, then her head snapped around as if on a hinge to face Brock with extreme wrath in her eyes.

            "How DARE you get MY body drunk and then make a FOOL out of me!" she shouted at him, shaking badly. Her eyes nearly teared up at the thought. Nearly.

            "I forgot you wouldn't be able to handle as much," Brock choked on sobs and drunken slurs as he choked this out.

            "I mean, all those guys saw me shirtless!" Misty's breathing became even more choked up as she couldn't fight all the tears. "They'll be making fun of me for months!"

            "Well I think your body is beaudiful," Brock's head swam as he made his argument. "They'll be dreaming, not laughing."

            Misty was momentarily silenced as she gazed at the drunken expression on the face she had worn for all 16 years of her life until that day. A drunken yet very honest expression.

            "I," she gulped. "Thanks."

            "You are beaud-ful," he muttered, nearly falling asleep. "Most beaud-ful girl in the whoooooole world."

            Tears still ran down Brock's former face, but they were followed by a grin and an embarrassed chuckle.

            "You mean that, don't you?" she sniffled, then leaned over and kissed her own lips lightly.

            "I wanted to have my first kiss as a guy," Brock whined, nearly sleeping.

            "Yeah," Misty wiped her lips, "that WAS way too weird."

            "Can I have a rain check?" Brock mumbled, "for when we're normal again?"

            Misty shook her head. She should have been pissed as hell. She should have been giving Brock a rain check to use his head as a basketball.

            Instead, she hugged him for a second, then pulled away and agreed to the rain check, then stood from the bed as the doorknob was jangled and Gary entered the room.

            "Amity would KILL me if she knew I was bringing food into her room," he shook his head.

            "I think she can afford to get a new one," Misty snorted.

            "Right," Gary laughed, then walked over to Brock with the goods.

            Gary took Misty's small hand, not knowing that it was really a male's at the moment.

            "Here," he sat Brock up and brought a drink to his lips, "have some of this, you'll feel better."

            Gary waited for Brock to drink for a moment, and then took a frosted oatmeal cookie from the package he brought up. "Why did you tell me you could hold your liquor?" He asked, seemingly distressed.

            "H--she's been super stressed lately," Misty answered for him. "REALLY stressed. Like you have no idea."

            "Well," Gary grinned, "I'll try and make her feel better!"

            Misty cringed, feeling bad that Gary was pining after a male in femme clothing. But she was really surprised to see this caring side of him. What did Brock do to convince Gary that she was a great gal?

            Knock knock.

            "Who is it?" Gary shouted, nearly jumping from his skin with worry that it was Amity and she would catch them with food in her room.

            "Tracey!" the knocker replied. "Someone told me he saw you guys come up here, and no one is in any other room!"

            Misty walked over and opened the door for him, feeling bad as she had totally forgotten about going home to save poor Professor Oak.

            "Hopefully they can overlook your drunkenness because of this," Misty muttered under her breath, then turned to Gary. "Would you please take us home?"

            "Gramps will KILL me!" Gary blinked, "getting Misty drunk like this--I--"

            Tracey walked over and put a hand on Gary's shoulder. "Don't worry about it," he laughed, "the drunkenness PALES in comparison to the bomb we're about to give him."

            "It is my fault," Gary sighed. "Yeah, I owe it to you guys. I'll take the punishment. For Misty."

            Tracey cringed as Gary said this, beginning to feel sorry for Gary as well. He was friends with the guy, after all. How couldn't he be a friend with the grandson of his idol?

            Brock paid homage to the porcelain God once, and then they were on the road.

            Misty looked at Gary miserably as he sped down the road, his window rolled down, and his hair blowing backward in the wind. He almost did seem attractive to her at that moment. He was never lacking in the looks department, but the sweetness he treated Brock with made her feel differently about his personality as well. He still retained coarseness, especially to her, but a soft spot could be found, she guessed.

            And Brock thinks I'm beautiful, she laughed to herself, the most beautiful girl in the world--it had to be the drunkenness talking.

            She smiled over at her sleeping body fondly as it rested in the passenger seat. She dreamed of Brock in her place, wanting to see the body along with the mind which resided there. She was tired of looking at herself.

            Why did Tracey ask her--

            "SHIT!" Misty shouted, "We forgot Deli--Ash!"

            Gary nearly slammed on his brakes and spun out, but somehow managed to retain composure.

            "Now I'm DOUBLE dead," Gary frowned.

            "Wait," Misty thought, "Tracey is ahead of us in his car--does he have a cell phone? We can call him and tell him we had to go back for he--him."

            "Naw," Gary grinned, "even if a cop pulls me over, we won't get a ticket. I AM Gary Oak, after all."

            A large u-turn which caused Misty and Brock to fall over onto the side doors ensued, and they were back on their way to the party.

            "Chug chug chug chug!" Gary and Misty heard upon entering the party, having left Brock in the car.

            "Yeeeeah!" the guys shouted, and then held up Ash upon their shoulders.

            "Delia?" Misty whispered, and no one heard her.

            "Ash you MORON!" Gary shouted. "GET THE HELL DOWN HERE THIS INSTANT!"

            "Hey guuuuuys," Delia grinned widely, "I just won a drinking contest!"

            "And ya also won a one way ticket home!" Gary shouted, stamping his foot. "Get y'ass in the car!"

            "Delia?" Misty whispered again, trying to blink away her disbelief.

            And thus they made their way back to Ash's house.

            Again.

-----------------------------------------------------

           

"Oh yes I believed him," Oak snorted, "it explains A LOT. But what I DON'T get is HOW that is humanly possible!"

"Neither do we," Misty cringed. "Trust me.

            "I will try and help you," Oak sighed, "but I really don't know what to do. I'll call Bill in the morning. For now we'd best get some rest, and you all can sleep off the drunkenness," he glared at Gary.

            "Sorry Gramps," Gary sighed.

            "Well," Oak's lip contorted in emotional duress, "I guess I can't be too mad, seeing as Delia is an ADULT and she didn't know better. But do it again and you'll be cleaning tauros poop for a week."

            "Got it gramps," Gary sighed in relief. However, he was more stressed than he'd ever been in his life.

            Gary walked upstairs to the bedroom where Brock was lying down on a bed.

            "M--Brock," he stammered, "I'm sorry I hit on you all night. Really, I mean--"

            "No worries," Brock yawned, his head still swimming. "If I was a chick I woulda been all over you."

            Gary didn't know how to take this statement. Instead he sadly left the room. He wasn't sure he'd get along as well with the REAL Misty, but he just couldn't shake the attraction.

            "But I suppose if he has to stay a girl for life he'd be a lesbian," Gary almost laughed as he told himself this while walking down the stairs. He almost laughed.

            They all left for their respective beds, weary and uncertain of their lives.

            "I loooove mornings," Celebi sighed as she hopped out of her broken bed. Her graveler-like weight had broken it, but she still tried to be in a good mood.

            "Oh," she frowned, "who am I kidding? I'm a graveler! A male graveler! My life is flip turned upside down--and I'm not even the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air!"

            She sadly floated across the room to brush her teeth, looking in the mirror dejectedly.

            "Hello, Graveler," she sighed. "New Celebi."

            She then picked up her toothbrush.

            "Hey Graveler," she blinked, "you have the same toothbrush as me! But please, why are you standing in front of me? And oh I have a headache."

            She put toothpaste on her toothbrush.

            So did the celebi in the mirror.

            "Graveler?" she blinked, then as her headache subsided she noticed that is WASN'T her toothbrush, nor did she wake in her bed.

            And she began laughing.

            "It wore off."

            "The attack wore off."

            And she laughed. And laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed.

            "Good FUCK!" Misty grumbled, though she shouted in a whisper so no one could hear her.

            "Hmmm?" Brock blinked as he woke, yawning and stretching his arms.

            "I feel so heavy today," he cracked his chin, and looked down to see a large, brown hand.

            "I am heavy today," he realized, then stood and looked at his feet.

            "And I have a hangover today," Misty whimpered. "And--a girly voice!"

            Misty and Brock suddenly exchanged a long look.

            "Rain check time?" Brock inquired.

            "Well I kinda don't want my first kiss while I have a hangover," she looked away.

            "New rain check?" Brock shrugged.

            "Mmmm," Misty contemplated, "nah."

            Brock grinned like a child, then ran over and smothered Misty with a kiss on the lips.

            "Do you really think I'm beautiful?" she giggled.

            "Most beautiful in the world," Brock replied, kissing her again.

-----------------------------------------------------

           

"Oh potty time," Ash suddenly stood, from the floor in his mother's room, blood rushing to his head as he felt the most miserable headache he'd ever had. "Damn!"

            He ran to the bathroom despite the pain, and noticed something.

            He was standing.

            Yet he was peeing.

            He was both standing and peeing at once.

            "Mom!" he shouted, pulling up his pajamas and running into the bedroom. "I can stand and pee! I can stand and pee!"

            "Oh no!" she gasped, half asleep, "we're both Ash now?"

            "No!" Ash laughed, "you're my mom again!"

            Delia did suddenly notice her voice, but looked down her blouse just to make sure.

            "Hallelujah!" she shouted, and Ash jumped on the bed to embrace her in a hug.

            "But Ash," Delia suddenly frowned, "what is this about you dressing as a girl to sneak into a gym? Gary told me--"

            "How did Gary find out about that?!?" Ash shouted, and then looked around in despair. "Uh, I think I'm gonna go find out if Brock and Misty changed back yet!"

            "Ash Ketchum!" Delia chased after her son as he bolted out the door.

THE END

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Brock: Wait! It's not over yet!

Misty: --whilst glomping Brock-- What? You mean it wasn't gymshippy enough?

Gary: wasn't hellshippy enough?

Brock: No! We need to spin the wheel of Morality!

Gary: but the lesson was obvious--booze is BAD.

Misty: it did bring Brock and I together.

Gary: yes, but it made you all SWITCH BODIES.

Misty: then just don't give it to your pokemon!

Pikachu: Piiiiiika! You could have given me SOMETHING. I could have traded bodies with Togepi!

Misty: You sure can say a lot in two syllables.

Brock: Look folks; let's let the wheel decide.

Ash: But I'm hungry!

Delia: You must wait young man!

Ash: I guess.

All: Wheel of Morality, turn turn turn! Show us the lesson which we must learn!

Brock: And the lesson is--~tears off sheet of paper~ Sticks and stones may break my bones, but whips and chains excite me!

Gary: care to test that one out?

Misty: you betcha! ~Drags Brock off into another room~

Ash: Good night, everybody!

BTW: That WAS how I intended on ending it (the wear off thing) THE WHOLE TIME. Mostly. Ask Trish! It wasn't a rushed thing. Think about it--all pokemon status changing effects WEAR OFF, as did Celebis. What was this move? A drunken one. And that's all that can be said about it.