How Cyrus Got His Groove Back

Chapter 1: A Birthday Surprise

"Happy Birthday, Cyrus!"

Sparkling blue confetti flashed through the air. Mars, Jupiter and Saturn; the three ex-Galactic executives; leapt in joyful celebration as confetti rained upon them and began to amass on the crusty linoleum flooring of their tiny apartment. Jupiter blew a noisemaker in Saturn's ear.

"You shouldn't have," Cyrus said, completely deadpan. He sat at a plastic card table, staring at his sorry-looking synthetic blue and white birthday cake— the same colors as his pasty face and seldom-washed hair. A piece of confetti landed on the cake and he poked in into the frosting.

The executives stopped, exchanging awkward glances with one another. They spent a chunk of their remaining money on the cake and decorations, not to mention on the special present they were planning to give him. Money was tight in the sudden economic crisis that Sinnoh had fallen into. Jupiter even offered to whore herself out on the streets of Veilstone, but the other two assured her that they weren't that desperate.

Mars summoned a forced smile. "Oh, it was nothing! It's your 30th birthday!" she said, waving her hand. "Piece of cake!" No one appreciated her lame pun, especially Cyrus.

"You really shouldn't have."

Saturn looked uncomfortable. "Well…there was that loophole in our contracts that bound us to you as slaves for life, but…" Mars and Jupiter glared at him.

"But we wanted to," Mars pressed, attempting to make eye contact with her ex-boss. The man took great effort to look everywhere except her face, so much so that his appeared to be eye-spasming. "You spent your last birthday in the Distortion World, and we wanted to give you a party in our new home. A real party, with a real birthday cake instead of the weird giant kelp that you tried to eat last year."

"Hell, I'm just in it for the free housing." Jupiter shrugged.

Cyrus placed his fork down carefully and stared down at his cake, speaking in his characteristic monotone. "You should not have done this because I am now the closest thing to sad I can be, seeing all of you being happy and…jubilant. I will never be jubilant, because of one single mistake."

"Hey, man, don't be down…I mean, don't be emotionless." Saturn forced himself to give Cyrus a manly pat on the back. "How were you supposed to know that being emotionless for so long would wire you to stay that way forever?"

"I should have done some research," Cyrus intoned. "I despise human emotion and yet it is challenging when one cannot form facial expressions or internal emotions. But I suppose that was my fault. Regardless, I failed my greatest dream." His face twisted up and he looked constipated for a moment, but the others recognized it as him trying to make an emotional face.

"I want feel…" he began slowly. "I want feel…"

"Sad?" guessed Mars.

"Disappointed?" asked Saturn.

"Like a huge, creepy loser with has no life and lives in a crappy apartment with his former co-workers, surviving off of money his estranged grandparents send him?" pressed Jupiter.

"Jupiter is right," the man said. "I am a loser and a failure at 30. I dedicated my life to creating a new universe, and a mere child defeated me. I am no use to the world now, just another worthless speck on this useless planet. I couldn't even keep myself in the Distortion World. I got hungry. How pathetic. I might as well die. No one would mind that much, I assume."

"Harsh," Saturn whispered to Mars. "Maybe this would be a good time to give him his present."

Mars nodded and hurried away. She soon returned with a huge, elaborately wrapped present decorated with pictures of chubby rainbow unicorns. She placed the colorful box directly in front of Cyrus, accidently crushing the cake in the process. Jupiter snapped a photo of Cyrus staring at the box, smashed cake dribbling down onto his lap.

"Cyrus," Mars began, "we decided that your birthday present would be a useful one, one that might change your life for the better. We all believe that it's time for you to get on with your life, even though you can't do things like smiling. We want you to be…um, not happy, but…um, useful! Useful and full of life experiences." She clasped her hands together, smiling widely to mask her terrible speech. "So…open it!"

The blue-haired man stared at the present, scratching at his blue five o'clock shadow. Although Cyrus couldn't hate or dislike, there were some things that he did not care for, such as cute animals, love, children, sunlight, rainbows, warmth, and candy— but above all, colors. Regardless, he opened the present, flinging the wrappings aside to peer inside the box and find…a piece of paper?

"This is not what I was expecting," he deadpanned, putting his constipated-face on once again to attempt confusion. "I distinctly asked for a potato peeler, not a…" He picked up the paper, staring at it.

CONGRATULATIONS!

YOU HAVE BEEN ACCEPTED FOR THE JOB OF FRY COOK AT OUR QUALITY EATING ESTABLISHMENT

FATTY BURGER!

WARM REGARDS,

H. C. BRADLY

OWNER

Even after he finished reading the words, Cyrus continued to stare at the paper. He blinked.

"Surprise!" Mars shouted.

Cyrus blinked again, looking at the executives.

"Wow, he's really good at screaming in horror without opening his mouth," Jupiter commented.

"It's to get you off your feet!" Saturn announced, pumping his fist. "A real man's job! Grilling burgers! Standing over a hot burner filled with tubs of lard!

"Lard is unhealthy and raises one's chances of heart disease," Cyrus said. "I do not want to work there. It is beneath me to grill burgers, I have a college degree; and working at said eating establishment will force me to interact with other human beings."

"But you interact with us just fine," Mars said.

The blue-haired man brushed some cake off of his pants. "You are my slaves for life, and therefore I must, to order you to do things and demean you."

"I might have a solution if I may interrupt…"

The four turned their heads to where the creaking voice came from to see a short, stooped old man in a lab coat hunching from the partly opened basement door. He smiled creepily, revealing yellowed teeth.

Saturn immediately grabbed whatever was next to him, in this case a cheap-looking floral vase, and chucked it at the man, screaming, "GET BACK IN YOUR CAVE, CHARON!" The elder ducked away, whimpering, the vase barely missing him.

"Wait, Saturn," Cyrus said. "Let him come up. I believe we skipped his last twenty minutes of sunlight time, so he will have it now. And I would like to hear what he has to say."

"Thank you, sir!" Charon smirked at Saturn, adjusting his pince-nez glasses. He shuffled over to Cyrus, hiding a poorly wrapped gift behind his back. "I too wanted to partake in this fun birthday celebration, because half of the time everyone treats me like some kind of evil old mole."

"Well, you did diss Cyrus and forcibly take over his position after he left." Jupiter glared at him.

Charon shrugged. "Things like those happen when you're old. One day I'm Napoleon, the next I'm insulting Cyrus, which of course is completely uncalled for!" He smiled at Cyrus and the man stared at him. "Anyway, I am no longer that mislead old man— I am an inventor, and I have to make useful things to do something with my time. So this is why I appear above ground, because I've created an excellent birthday present for Cyrus!" He slammed down a wrapped, banjo-shaped object in front of Cyrus, once again smashing the cake. "A genius creation, I do say! Simply brilliant! It is my thanks to you for housing me in my old age!"

"Show off," Saturn muttered. Mars elbowed him.

"Well, Charon, this would be a surprise if I could register that emotion." Cyrus ripped away the purple unicorn wrapping paper masking the present to reveal a circular dry erase board glued to the end of a stick. Taped to it was a dry erase marker. Everyone stared at it.

"Wow," Saturn said. "That is a fine piece of equipment right there."

"It's ingenious!" Charon stormed, turning the color of a beet. He ripped the marker from its board. "Here, let me show you how to use this. Now, Cyrus, say you want to convey an emotion and show it to the people around you, but you can't. Pick an emotion."

"Pain and torment," Cyrus said, almost happily.

"Err…okay, fine. Pain and torment. Now, all you have to do is draw a face on the circular board that looks like it's in pain or being tormented, hold it up to show everyone, and voila! Instant Emotion!" As an example, Charon drew a screaming face on the board. "Pain! Torment!"

"Pain and torment," Cyrus mumbled, taking it from him and drawing a big, happy face on it. He showed it to the three other executives. "Now I may use this to make you see how happy I want to feel when I demean you all." He inspected the device. "Executives, I am sorry that I disliked your 'Fatty Burger' present upon originally seeing it. But now that I can communicate my emotions, perhaps I will attend work. I believe that this will be a good experience for me. And this thing, too." He drew a sorry face on the board. Mars, Jupiter and Saturn sighed with relief.

"I'm ecstatic that you like it!" Charon clapped his gnarled hands together. "Now, might I help myself to a glass of orange juice? You know how much I love its pulpy goodness!"

"Go back downstairs," Cyrus said.

Charon frowned, a spark of anger beneath his eyes. "Just…one…glass?"

"You heard the boss," Saturn barked. "Get back down there!"

The old man turned indignantly and did so. Mars frowned at the basement door. "You know, we're a little too mean to him," she said slowly.

"Ah, he doesn't mind," Jupiter said. "He's basically doesn't have a soul, so it's okay!" She leaped over to his ex-boss. "So, dude, are you ready to start work next week? Are you psyched?"

"I am indeed…psyched," Cyrus said, but paused in thought. He began slowly drawing something on the board. "But there is one man whom I must look out for and be wary of, for he is the only one who can halt my quest for a normal life…"

And with that, he held up a big, fat, angry face.

OoO

Champion Cynthia cheerfully strolled down the picturesque Veilstone sidewalk, out on a brisk afternoon walk with her beloved Garchomp. Garchomp loped along, as happy as his owner, even when she had to reprimand the creature several times not eat the small children, no matter how delicious and weak they looked. Just as she was mentally running over a list of errands, something caught her eye. She stopped, having to yank Garchomp back on his leash, and squinted at a tree about twenty feet in front of her. Something was moving behind it, some sort of dark humanoid figure with its head slightly protruding from behind the tree.

"Hello?" she asked uncertainly.

The figure disappeared fully behind the large plant and then slowly maneuvered around the tree on tiptoes, revealing himself to be a dark-haired man in a large brown trench coat. He whipped his head around with narrowed eyes, hunched over to apparently make himself less noticeable. It didn't work.

Cynthia sighed. "Hello, Looker."

"Haha! Yes, hello, Ms. Cynthia!" He leapt over to her, his bizarre accent flying free. "You are quite the smart one to be able to see me, indeed! In fact, it is you who is the Looker, haha!" He stopped suddenly. "The Looker meaning to see, yes! Not the other meaning! That would be of the awkwardness! But, I mean, the other meaning, it is true for you! Yes, haha?"

She frowned. "Looker, why were you following me?"

"Well," he said, pulling a piece of paper from his pocket, "I have come to ask you for help. You see, these evil men—" he unfolded the paper to reveal two crude crayon drawings of presumably Cyrus and Charon "—are wreaking havoc upon the land of your home! Yes, you see, I arrested Charon a while ago and locked him away for good, as all criminals should be! But, horror, it has come to my attention that he has escaped, and that is not good! Also, it was you who helped defeat Cyrus and drove him into hiding, you should not forget!"

Garchomp sniffed his leg and Cynthia pulled back her pet so that it wouldn't begin gnawing on the spy. "What's your point?"

"Yes, my point! Haha!" He bit his lip nervously. "Ummm, it was I who was wondering if you would help me on this new mission by…by…umm…"

Cynthia looked at him, furrowing her brow. "Yes…?"

"Um, by getting the drink that is coffee at the café, which is down the street, where we may discuss these unfortunate and criminal circumstances with beverages of caffeine." He bit his lip. "For justice!"

"Are…are you asking me on a coffee date?"

"Coffee date? Haha, this coffee date, what does it mean? I have no idea what you are saying! It is for the good of everyone, our coffee date— I MEAN MEETING OF BUISNESS."

They stood awkwardly for a few moments before Cynthia sighed and looked at him. "I'm going to give it to you straight, Looker, and I hope I don't hurt your feelings. I'm not interested in tracking has-been criminals, and…well, I can't do coffee. Frankly, I have a date this evening, and I've been looking forward to it."

"A date of girls night out, yes?" Looker laughed nervously. "Yes, right? Manicures? Haha?"

"With Steven Stone. He's here on a business trip."

Looker gasped. "The Stone who is named Steven! Even in my country, we know him as the man with much money!"

She shrugged. "Yes, that's true. He's quite famous."

"But…but how could your love be given to a man who is cold and distant!"

"Looker, what are you talking about?"

"Like steel," Looker said wisely.

The champion frowned at him. "Look…Looker. I appreciate your attention to stopping crime. Keep doing that. But I'd like to live my life, free of worrying about random insane criminals running around. To tell you the truth, I only got involved because my grandma refused to take her medication until everything was safe again. So, feel free to say hi to me, but I'd rather not hear about crime or coffee, okay?"

Looker's head drooped. "My understanding is complete," he mumbled. "I will just go home and count the cracks in my ceiling, which is what I do on every night of Saturday. Bye-bye…" He dragged himself away and out of their sight.

"Maybe I was a little harsh," Cynthia commented to her Pokemon.

Garchomp was busy chewing on a Bidoof. Cynthia sighed once more and shrugged, trying to forget this blip in her day. She wondered what she would wear that night.

Oh, hello everyone! Long time no see! I just got a new computer and was sorting through files when I found this story! I wrote it a few years ago and don't know why I never uploaded it, but here it is now in all of its glory! It's short, about 6 chapters long, but chock-full of wonder and excitement! Tune in later for more 'How Cyrus Got His Groove Back'!