Muah ha ha ha ha...
You choose you... as Mewtwo! Power, good looks... he's got it all. You decide to be *another* Mewtwo, though; no sense interrupting the original in his frolicking with Mew after he finally found happiness after the first movie.
There's a flash of light as the world fades around you.
A burst of inter-dimensional flame relieves you of your clothing and body hair. Before you can blush, your lower abdomen fuses together and loops down between your legs.
You feel like an anchored rope in a tug-of-war as your new tail archs up behind your back. Your neck and shoulders snap, crackle and pop as you shoulder blades become more pronounced and the Mewtwo neck handle bursts out from behind your head. You skin gets smooth yet tough, like well-worked leather, as your legs snap into digitigrade.
Although painless, it feels like your feet and arms are simultaneously in a vice and taffy puller as your feet become two-toed, your arms lose muscle mass and your fingers fuse into threes.
Finally, it feels like someone sticks three huge suction cups on your head and yanks, giving you two stubby horns and one stubby muzzle.
As your surroundings solidify into some random cave, you feel the psychic engines start up. It's nothing radical; it just feels like all that stuff you've wanted to do can be done now....That's all.
"Woo..." your voice manifests itself psychically as you stumble and fall down like an ass. Soon you catch yourself, though, and get the hang of movement. Excited, you scoot off around the cave to find something shiny to admire yourself in. At one point, you knock over a Geodude which looks at you crankily.
"Geo Geo DUDE!" it cries.
"Dude," you thought-speak, "C'mon. How on earth could evolution develop a whole species of creatures who are all equipped with the ability to use human speech, but can only say their own name?"
"Pues, lo *siento!* Tengo difficultiados con ingles, OK?" it goes off. You ponder that.
Finally you find a reflective rock and admire yourself. Yea, you're Mewtwo. Nay, *a* Mewtwo, one of your own. Patting your muzzle speculatively, you plan the next move.
Written by Mr.Peaches on 23 July 2006