Low chatter filled the studio apartment. From the kitchen island where a certain Arcanine loomed, Joel laid out an assortment of snacks on the counter. Pizza logs with clumps of pepperoni dribbling out the side. Sushi rolls cut into bite-sized circles. Cocktail shrimp, like little pink thumbs, plunged headfirst into a crimson sauce.
Joel himself watched as his friends gathered around the television. Small crowds on the screen cheered as the parade of lovingly crafted pokemon floats maneuvered through the familiar main-street haunts.
“Hey Joe, there’s Game Corner,” Harry, a wild Rattata said. He bounced on the balls of his feet as the camera panned past the carefully painted art of trading card characters in festive gear and the words Happy New Year in jubilant red font.
Joel chuckled. He took a beer from the fridge and popped the top with a bottle opener. The bottle cap bounced on the counter as he reached and dropped it into the trash can. His sinuses were rosy with firewater -- the flames in the core of his stomach lapped up the fuel. He stifled a soft burp, then nursed his drink once more.
“Outdid yourself on the glasswork, kid” Joel tilted his bottle at the Rattata. The purple shift manager bowed for the guests, and they applauded generously.
An Umbreon in a white turtleneck sweater sat on a loveseat outside of the partygoers, one leg crossed over the other. Joel took a plate of appetizers and made his way for the Umbreon.
“You’re awfully quiet,” Joel presented the umberon a beer.
The Umberon waved them off politely, then smiled, “I’m content here.”
Joel pulled up a stool and sat beside the Umbreon, the arcanine pushed his glasses up his muzzle and cleared his throat. “Uh, thanks for showing up. I know you’re not one for parties and all…”
“No need to apologize,” the Umbreon, one Edgar Gray, uncrossed his legs and he sat with his hands in his lap. “Though I’m not looking forward to driving home with all the drunkards that’s for sure.”
“I’ve got space here; I wouldn’t let you do that if you’re uncomfortable,” Joel snorted, and he took a mouthful of beer, “you’re always welcome, you know that.”
“Haven’t changed a bit, have you?”
Joel beamed, and he looked over at the television. The countdown was on the horizon. A massive papier-mache Master Ball dangled above town square with spotlights on its blue ‘chassis.’
“I do love how a smaller city celebrates; it feels more...personal.”
“Celadon’s a nice place once you get over the fact that the locals all know each other, took me years to start fitting in,” Joel picked his teeth.
The television lit up with activity as the others in the room began to countdown. Five, four, three, two, one-- Happy New Year!
The master ball popped open as a deluge of confetti scattered the ground like technicolor snow.
Joel hooted and chuckled, “happy new year Ed.” He playfully punched the Umbreon's shoulder.
Edgar wore his ever polite smile and rubbed his sore arm.
The Rattata hooped and hollered as a firework finale illuminated the windows. All eyes were peeled from the TV to watch the garden of sound and light erupt in the sky. The colors flashed in familiar shapes -- the head of Rayquaza in brilliant celadon green peppered with oxidized crimsons.
“Your young protege is certainly an excitable one,” Edgar mumbled.
“Who? Harry?” Joel took his glasses from his muzzle and cleaned them on his shirt. “Ah, he’s a good kid. Don’t let him anywhere near sugar though. I think his parents deprived him of it when he was younger.”
As the party died down, Harry moved through the bright crowded room and found Joel beside Edgar. Harry raised his bottle and smiled -- his buck teeth glistened in the fluorescent light. “Happy New Year Bossman.”
“Harry you know you can just call me Joe outside of work, right?”
“Got it, boss,” Harry slumped in the loveseat beside Edgar.
Joel rolled his eyes, but tipped his bottle toward Harry all the same, “happy new year, Harry.”
“Isn’t he a little young to be drinking?” Edgar quirked his brow.
“Dude, I’m twenty-three,” Harry sputtered, and he held up two fingers and then three in rapid succession.
“Oh so you’re a la--”
“Ed,” Joel grunted and shook his head.
“A late bloomer?” Harry’s ears fell some.
“It’s not that big of a deal,” Joel shook his head, “I was a Growlithe into my twenties, but look at me now.”
Harry snorted, “right boss. So…” Harry cocked his head, “you guys got any resolutions for the new year?”
Edgar shrugged, “stay home more, read more books.”
“You do plenty of that, Ed,” Joel chided.
“Then I’m on the right track,” Edgar examined his clawed fingers, “what about you, big guy?’
Big guy. Joel winced and patted his paunch. “Er, I’m a tad old for resolutions.”
“Come on boss. There’s always room for resolutions. We don’t ever stop getting better, right?’
“Well, I could always stand to lose some weight,” Joel shrugged, “or maybe put on the right kind of weight.” He flexed a flabby bicep and chuckled.
“You know what boss, I’m on the same page,” Harry bounced a little in his seat, “see I’ve meant to bulk up on account of the, y’know, but it’s not easy for me to put on weight. Any weight, I mean. But I met this guy, and he’s been really helping me out. I put on a whole two pounds in a few weeks. ”
“Kinda wish I had that same problem,” Joel rolled his eyes.
“Yeah, but you know you could bulk up pretty crazy I bet. I read up that guys who put on weight easy get muscle just as quick.”
Edgar slumped back in his seat, “yes, but you’re talking to the king of excuses here.”
Joel shrugged, “between the store and home stuff I don’t have time for the gym.”
“Aw c’mon boss, I bet if we worked together and kept each other accountable and all, we could get it done,” Harry said with his dewy eyes.
Joel rubbed his temples, “alright, fine kid. I’ll see this guy you’re going on about.”
“My oh my,” Edgar quirked a brow, “maybe you have changed some.”
“Hardy har,” Joel scoffed, “now before this whole gym talk kills my appetite, I’m getting another pizza log.”
--
Early that next morning, Joel tottered into the kitchen. His glasses slightly askew and a horrible headache embedded deep in his skull. He watched the coffeepot come to a boil as his furry paunch peeked beneath his undershirt. He sighed and tucked his gut away.
Over the kitchen-island, he saw Edgar asleep on the couch. The Umbreon curled up in a cozy bundle of blankets with his head propped atop a spare pillow Joel kept for guests. Joel smiled, almost like old times, much as Edgar pushed his buttons he was glad to see the Umbreon back in his life even if it could only be for a few days.
Joel gasped as his cell-phone buzzed to life. He fumbled with the lock screen and put it to his head.
“M’ello?” He grunted.
“Hey, boss!” said Harry.
Joel leaned over the counter and rubbed his eyes.
“It’s New Years’ day, Harry; I don’t think that the gym is open.”
“I’m here right now! The owner says he’d be glad to meet you.”
“Does it have to be today?”
“C’mon boss, you said you were serious.”
Joel scratched his gut, sighed, and nodded, “fine. I’ll be there in an hour…” Joel hung up the phone and hobbled back to his room. His stiff legs barely obeyed.
-----
The Bodybuilder:
Shed the winter weight and rock the beach-bod -- Joel’s new fitness instructor is a Machamp with a passion for bodybuilding. Six-packs, bowling ball biceps, and glutes that can kill with a flex. Symmetry and balanced bulking are in this regiment. Will Joel be able to keep up?
The Musclebeast:
Bigger is better, but the biggest is best -- Joel’s new fitness instructor is a Nidoking obsessed with gains. Roidguts, meaty slabs for arms, and pecs big enough for their own area code. Growth is all that matters in this regiment, chemically induced or otherwise. Will Joel be able to tame his inner muclebeast?
The Strongmon:
It doesn’t look pretty, but who cares when you can haul a freight train? -- Joel’s new fitness instructor is a Hariyama most concerned with power. Muscleguts, bear hugger arms, and tire thick necks. Strength is the purest virtue, despite all the dirty bulking. Will Joel’s self-esteem cope despite getting even heavier?
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