Gopnikification

by Phanpy-anon

It was winter in Capim Town. Snow lazily drifted down from the heavens and coated the ground. It stuck to trees and it crunched under my boots as I walked back to the guild, carrying a sack of groceries for the guild's chef. Totodile had been caught sneaking wine from the kitchen again. For some reason, I was the one getting punished for it.

In front of the guildhall, I spotted Cyndaquil and Totodile. Cyndaquil had his normal winter attire on, but Totodile had exchanged his normal jacket for a tracksuit. He squatted in the snow with a bottle of vodka. In front of him sat a wooden crate, with a bag of sunflower seeds resting on top of the crate. Cyndaquil leaned against the wall of the guildhall with a lit cigarette in his mouth.

"What are you two doing?" I asked.

Cyndaquil spoke with an awful Russian accent. "Ah, Phanpy! We're just enjoying the fresh winter air! Come and join us!"

I thought about his offer. "May as well. It's not like I'm doing anything else today, so it's a good day for drinking."

Totodile also spoke with an accent. "Every day is good day for drinking, friend!"

I left the two outside as I dropped off my sack of groceries in the kitchen. When I came back, Totodile reached into the wooden crate and handed me a bottle of vodka.

I read the label on the bottle. It was in Cyrillic. “Where did you guys find this?”

Cyndaquil smirked. “I met a nice Alolan Ninetails earlier today. I walked up to her and said: ‘What’s up, my chilla!’ And, long story short, she gave me this crate! It’s full of vodka and cigs!”

I opened the bottle and took a sip. “There’s no way that’s all you did.”

“I may have also slapped her ass.”

I spat out the vodka.

Totodile looked hurt. “Why would you waste vodka?”

I inspected the label on the bottle again. “You guys don’t think there’s something suspicious about this vodka?”

Cyndaquil popped a sunflower seed into his mouth. “No. We’ve been sitting around here and drinking for an hour. If it was poisoned, I’m sure we’d have felt something by now.”

I sniffed the vodka. Nothing smelt off. I took another sip, trying to detect any strange taste. Nothing tasted off. On the one hand, it was free booze. On the other, there was definitely something wrong with it. I looked up from the bottle to see Totodile looking at me with reptilian puppy-dog eyes. I sighed. The things I did for this team.

I swallowed the vodka, and Totodile cheered.

I sat in the snow next to Totodile. “So, what’s with the change in outfit?”

“It looks more stylish,” said Totodile.

“And the squat?”

Totodile shrugged. “Feels natural.”

…

“What are you three doing?” asked Torchic.

I took a draft of my cigarette, then exhaled a plume of smoke out of my trunk. “Cyndaquil got some drinks and smokes, so we were enjoying them in the fresh winter air.”

Totodile, who was still squatting, reached into the vodka crate and pulled out a bottle. He offered it to Torchic. “Want some?”

“I guess so.” Torchic sat down with us. “But what’s with the accents?”

“Feels natural,” I said.

Totodile helped Torchic down a shot of vodka. Torchic, weighing under ten pounds, was tipsy as soon as the alcohol entered her bloodstream.

“You’re right. It does feel natural,” she said, in a light Russian accent.

We heard footsteps in the snow. Someone was approaching the guild. The four of us turned and saw Ronnie, a Numel, walking back to the guild. He usually helped in the kitchen by serving as a stovetop on legs.

Cyndaquil got to his feet and stumbled over to Ronnie. “Hey! You trying to avoid the gop-stop?”

Ronnie was taken aback. “The what?

Totodile sauntered over to the two. “You heard him, Cheeki Breeki! So will you pay up, or do we have to get persuasive?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you people?” shouted Ronnie. “I slave away as a hot stove for ten hours a day, making your food, and this is the thanks I get? Shaken down for pocket change outside of our guild?”

Cyndaquil turned to Totodile. “Is this guy disrespecting the gop-stop?”

Totodile noddled. “I think this guy is trying to disrespect the gop-stop!”

Torichic and I exchanged glances. We seemed to come to the same conclusion. Nobody disrespected the gop-stop.

With the four of us surrounding him, Ronnie could only impotently whine as we patted him down. All he had on him was a small pouch that contained a handful of coins and a few apples.

“Cyka blyat!” I said, taking the money. “You have nothing! Don’t waste our time again!”

We let Ronnie enter the guild. He muttered curses under his breath as he walked away. Torchic and I sat back in the snow, while Totodile and Cyndaquil squatted. We formed a circle around the box of vodka and cigarettes.

I chewed on a sunflower seed. “We need music.”

Torchic nodded. “Need hardbass.”

I got to my feet. “I’ll look for some.”

I went to the storeroom in an attempt to find something approximating hardbass. It was difficult, since the layout of the storeroom constantly changed. There were at least two guild members engaged in a passive aggressive war over how the room should be organized. They refused to speak to each other, instead opting to spend days re-sorting all of the garbage the guild members left in the storeroom.

Unsurprisingly, there was nothing even remotely close to hardbass in the storage room. I managed to find a pair of cymbals underneath a cushion. There was also a snare drum wedged between a bag of seeds and a wooden staff. The alphabetical autist was currently winning. I grabbed the instruments and returned to my team.

“That is not hardbass,” said Cyndaquil.

"Sorry,” I said. “I could not find MP3 player on short notice."

Totodile took the snare drum. "No matter. I will teach you music. You can trumpet, yes?"

I shrugged. "I can try "

Totodile gave Cyndaquil the cymbals. He then began teaching us a song. My trunk produced sounds completely unlike any brass instrument but, with some practice, I managed to at least control my pitch. Eventually, the three of us managed to produce something that sounded like music. After several more shots of vodka, it even started to sound good.

Totodile nodded in satisfaction, the snare drums sitting in the snow in front of him. "Good. Now we add lyrics."

Cyndaquil set down his cymbals, resting his arms. "I did not know you knew Russian, Totodile."

"I do not. But the vodka," Totodile rubbed his cheek against a bottle of vodka, "she tells me all I need to know."

As we had practiced, several guild members gave us strange looks as they passed. Most avoided eye contact, not wanting to get roped into whatever we were doing. The one exception was a group of three Pokemon. Cassie, a Sandshrew; Kiyo, an Alolan Vulpix; and Bean, a Fletchling. I could hear Cassie and Kiyo arguing.

Kiyo was trying hard not to shout. "I'm telling you, we should leave before we get sucked into whatever weird game those four are playing!"

Cassie rolled her eyes. "They're just playing music. And look at those outfits! They look adorable!"

Bean whispered something to Cassie from his perch on her shoulder.

"See!” said Cassie. “Bean doesn't think it'll hurt to look!"

Cassie dragged a grumbling Kiyo over to us.

She beamed at us. "Hey guys! What're you playing?"

Totodile stood up from his squat for the first time in hours. "Music from home. Want to join? We need bass player, accordion, and singers. Cyndaquil is always flat."

"It is not my fault!" said Cyndaquil. "I can barely pronounce lyrics, and Phanpy keeps playing out of tune!"

I took a shot of vodka. It was cold from sitting in the snow and soothed my throat. "You want to imitate brass ensemble?"

“I agree with Cyndaquil,” said Torchic. “Phanpy is out of tune.”

Totodile nodded at Cassie's group. "See? We need musicians."

"Sounds fun!" said Cassie.

Kiyo groaned. "Called it. Now we're involved."

Kiyo’s team went off to search the storeroom. They came back with an accordian and something that resembled a double bass.

"We don't know how to play these," said Kiyo.

"No worries. I teach," said Totodile. He showed Kiyo how to hold the accordion. “You play harmonica. Is like accordion.”

“Really?” said Kiyo.

“Yes,” said Totodile. “You blow into it and it makes pretty noise.”

Cyndaquil snickered and whispered to me. “I got something that Kiyo could blow, and I would make plenty of noise!”

I whispered back. “Comrade Cyndaquil, do not talk about our fellows like that!”

With the addition of more Pokemon, we were beginning to look dangerously close to a real band.

Totodile squatted back down in front of his drum. "I give four beats, then we play."

…

The next time we set our instruments down to take a break, I offered Kiyo a bottle of vodka. “Here. We have drinks.”

Kiyo opened the bottle, then gagged at the smell. “Where did you guys get this stuff?”

“Comrade Cyndaquil got them,” said Totodile. “I believe he got it for slapping the ass of a Ninetails.”

Cyndaquil nodded. “Da.”

Kiyo gave us the side-eye. “Right. Can I talk with Cassie in private?”

I poured Torchic another shot. “Go ahead, comrade.”

Kiyo, Cassie, and Bean walked away to form a group huddle. The three of them whispered to each other for a minute before Cassie came back.

“Well, this has been fun,” said Cassie, “but we really need to get going. We have to work on… some stuff.”

“Very well,” said Totodile. “Let us know if you want to play more songs of our motherland.”

Once Kiyo’s group was out of sight, Torchic got to her feet. “Comrades! The music is beautiful, but it does not pay bills!”

The rest of us grumbled in agreement.

“You know why we have no money?” shouted Torchic. “The bourgeois of the Federation!”

Cyndaquil nodded. “You’re right!”

“They exploit our labor,” said Torchic, “and reap the profits while giving us nothing!”

“It is an injustice!” said Totodile.

Torchic hopped on top of the vodka crate. “We must overthrow their oppressive regime! We have nothing to lose but our chains! Working ‘mons of the world, unite!”

Totodile and Cyndaquil applauded.

“But comrade,” I said, “we have no money. How will we wage war?”

“We must expropriate from those who steal from the working ‘mon,” said Torchic. “On my walk today, I came across Skiddo. He was transporting cart, full Poke! He took it to bank, and said they would be unloading money tomorrow. Right now it is parked underneath bank, still full and ripe.”

Totodile downed another bottle. “We must act now, comrades!”

We sprang into action as fast as four drunks could. Cyndaquil and I packed our bags with everything we would need for the robbery. We also took enough supplies to last several days. After we stole the money, we would have to lay low in the wilderness.

When we returned with our supplies, Cyndaquil tied the crate of vodka to Totodile’s back. As much as we wanted to take the instruments with us, none of us could carry any more. The four of us made our way to the bank.

There were a handful of snow-covered bushes next to the bank. Torchic and Totodile hid in the bushes while Cyndaquil and I circled the building, looking for where the cart would be kept. Eventually, we found the snow covered pathway that led to an underground storage chamber. A metal grate stood between us and our much needed funds.

I dug out a hole in the snow and dumped out the contents of my bag. Hopefully the snow wouldn’t get the blast seeds too wet. I backed away as Cyndaquil psyched himself up. He spit a fireball at the seeds then dove for cover. There was an ear-rupturing explosion, but we didn’t have time to sit and recover.

Ears ringing, the two of us ran inside and found the cart. I stood still while Cyndaquil attached the harness to me. It was built for a Pokemon taller and wider than me, but it would be good enough to get out of town.

Cyndaquil hopped onto the cart. “Let us run, comrade!”

I dragged the cart out to the bushes where our other comrades were hiding. Cyndaquil helped them into the cart. Totodile untied the vodka crate from himself and stored it with the boxes of Poke.

I ran through the snowy streets of Capim Town. There were shouts behind us from the Pokemon working at the bank.

“Can you pull any faster, comrade?” said Torchic. “The authorities are much faster than I anticipated.”

An iron spike whizzed past my head and landed in the snow.

“To the river!” yelled Cyndaquil. “We will lose them in dungeon!”

We were pursued out of town. Even with the snowfall, I was familiar enough with the area around Capim Town to find Serenity River in my sleep. Once the bridge over Serenity River was in sight, I stopped. Bullet, a Noivern that hung around the guild, stood in the middle of the bridge, blocking our path. He had flown ahead of us and brought several guild members with him. Behind us, I heard Officer Magnezone and the Guildmaster shouting after us. We would have to chance crossing the iced-over river.

I broke into a sprint. If we failed, we would have died for the glorious revolution. We were halfway across the river. We would be free in less than a minute.

I took another step, and my foot suddenly felt cold and wet.

I heard the sound of ice cracking around us.

I had just enough time to utter one word.

“Blyat.”

…

The four of us laid in a room at the clinic. Our physical injuries were only minor, but we couldn’t be left unsupervised.

“You four are lucky Kiyo warned the Guildmaster about you four,” said Nurse Kina. “Kiyo said you might try something stupid. It took several guild members to haul you all out of the river.”

Totodile still spoke with an accent. “What happened to us?”

“A Ninetails gave Cyndaquil cursed vodka,” said Kina.

“It just made us Russian!” I said. “What kind of curse is that?”

Kina hid her smile behind her clipboard. “Around the guild, we’ve started calling it ‘Gopnikification.’ ”

“But why would that be the curse?” I said.

“You’d have to ask the Ninetail that, I’m afraid,” said Kina.

“So will we be like this until we detox?” asked Torchic.

Kina nodded. “You four had developed full blown Bolshevism, so it will take some time to fully regain your senses. We’ve been administering fruity cocktails to help speed up the recovery process.”

“How does that work?” said Torchic.

Kina shrugged. “It’s a curse, not an illness.”

Cyndaquil lay back in bed with a contented smile. “Still worth it. I’d slap that ass again in a heartbeat.”

There was a knock on the door to our room.

Kina went to get the door. “Well, good luck explaining that to the Guildmaster!”