Brock was whistling to himself as he chopped the garlic. He sure could cook, even if he
did say so himself. Which he did. He swirled the oil around in the pan to see if it was
hot enough. Deciding it was, he threw in the garlic.
Yes, he might not be a Pokémon Master like Ash, but he was an excellent chef. As the garlic popped and crackled in the pan he
smiled and began to chop an onion with swift,
expert strokes.
"Hey Brock, how’s it coming? I’m starved!" yelled Ash from the
living-room.
"Patience Ash! You can’t rush these things!" Brock called back, adding
the onion. He was so pleased Ash and Misty had got together. He couldn’t believe he
hadn’t noticed they were attracted to each other - but then he wasn’t exactly a
girl expert was he? Ash and Misty. It seemed so right. Of course Misty would want someone
her own age; not, say, a slightly older boy. A small tear formed in Brock’s eye.
"Darn these onions!" he said aloud, opening a window.
Ash had stormed to the top of the Pokémon League this time round, defeating all in his
path. Brock had been at the Final, seen faithful little Pikachu gather itself together for
the Thunder attack that would wipe out his opponent’s last remaining Pokémon –
the legendary Articuno, no less – and win its trainer the title of Pokémon Master he
had coveted for so long. He had gone on to challenge the Elite Four, who had toppled like
ninepins before him and Pikachu. He was truly the Ultimate Pokémon Master.
That evening, Brock had come to Ash’s hotel room to offer his congratulations and
found Ash and Misty on the balcony holding hands, looking up at the stars. He had
understood immediately and left them alone. Good old Ash! Nice one!
So now he was cooking Ash a celebratory meal. It was going to be really special, Brock
was determined. Ash would never taste anything like it again. He was adding a
secret combination of herbs and spices to give it a unique flavour that might never be
recreated.
"Pinch of this…dash of that…"Brock muttered. The meat was
browning nicely, sizzling and sending up a mouthwatering smell. Time to add the sauce he
had prepared earlier. Appetising steam rose from the pan as he stirred the mixture. Brock looked
at his watch. "Ten minutes, Ash!" he called.
Exactly ten minutes later, he whipped the pan off the heat. He spooned the meal onto a
bed of basmati rice and garnished it with a sprig of parsley. Then, as the finishing
touch, he squirted a dab of ketchup on the side. It made him wince to do it, but it was in
honour of Pikachu. And Ash would probably prefer his food with ketchup too. He was still a
little kid, Brock reflected, with childish tastes.
"All right!" said Ash, grinning from ear to ear as his friend swept in
wearing a crisp white apron and chef’s hat. Brock removed the cover from the silver
platter with a flourish and set the dish in front of the Pokémon Master.
"Aren’t you having any, Brock?"
"No, Ash, this is all for you. It’s your victory dinner."
"Wow, thanks Brock!" Ash dug in with gusto, shovelling the delicious food
into his mouth. His chopsticks were a blur as he crammed in the perfectly-cooked rice and
the savoury chunks of meat. When he had almost cleared his plate he looked up.
"Hey Brock, have you seen Pikachu? It’s not like him to miss one of your
special meals," he said with his mouth full, looking around for his favourite Pokémon.
A strange smile spread across Brock’s face. "Why, he’s right here,
Ash!" he said. "In fact, he’s right – there!"
And he pointed straight at Ash's stomach.
By Agent 99
[Note: Please don’t hate me. I like Ash, and Pikachu, and Brock. I just thought
this was a funny idea, which came to me as I was cooking a chicken curry.
If you care, it was based on a Greek myth]