♪♬ ON THE AIR ♬♪

“Deino, no!”

That two word phrase has been repeated so many times this morning it’s not even funny anymore.  Ben could hear people laughing outside his booth that eventually turn to pitied looks the more frustrated he gets.  Deinos are a special kind of Pokemon– aggressive, and blind to boot.  They love biting and headbutting anything and everything they get their hands, and so in close quarters like this… it’s just a recipe for destruction.

But Ben has to keep him out of his ball for a little while longer.  They always have to present the prize Pokemon to the trainer so they know what they’re getting into.  If a Pokemon has a special injury or anything like that, it’s important to note it, and well… this Deino is covered in injuries.  However, unlike some of the other Pokemon the Radio Tower has sponsored before, this wasn’t because of some tragic life it lived.

No… most Deinos look like this.  Because they can’t see and tackle things to understand its surrounding, they’re always injuring themselves.  Ben tries to steer it away from any hard or pointy surfaces in the booth, but it’s difficult to keep an eye on it at all times.  He’s managed to distract it with a delectable bowl of berries, which it’s currently scarfing down on when the young lady walks in.  Ben hardly has time to sigh in relief and recollect himself before her arrival, but he is awfully relieved to see the Pokemon’s new trainer here.

Though he does feel a bit bad.  This trainer looks pretty young, and although young trainers have more than always proven themselves to be strong and resilient with raising tough Pokemon, this one will most certainly be a handful for her.  Hopefully she has the time– and the patience– to take the challenge on.  It’s all he can hope for.

Smoothing his hair back, the DJ grins at the young Cooltrainer and nods at her question, glancing down the Deino, its green scales shimmering under the light of the booth.  “That’s right!  Deino here is all yours.  He’s a little injured, so just be careful and change his wraps often– Deinos headbutt stuff to find out what’s around them so he’ll inevitably get hurt again, but don’t be frustrated.  Oh– and they bite a whole lot, too, so I’d invest in some thick protective gloves.  It’ll eat anything it can choke down so make sure he’s eating healthy and not overeating.  Deinos can get pretty fat under the right circumstances…”

At the end of that sentence, Ben heaves a large breath.  Whew, that was a lot to go over… but at least he warned her properly.  He laughs at the thought of how ridiculous it is– but she seems solemn enough to take raising this Deino very seriously.  He rests a hand on the Deino’s back until it whips its head around and clamps its jaws down on his arm.  Ben howls and jerks it away.  The trainer looks so startled, but he raises a hand to reassure her while recalling it to the Premier Ball it calls home.

“No, no, it’s fine!  Like I said– that’s why you need the protective gloves!  Don’t worry.  He’ll warm up to you, okay?”

Hopefully much more than he did with Ben.  Boy, that smarts…

With a soft sigh, DJ Ben puts his back against the door of his booth, hands on his hips, and he surveys the room carefully.  She has to be in here somewhere… there’s no way she got out.  Poor Pikachu, she was just so skittish that the second he let her out of the Pokeball, she ran off out of fear.  Although the Radio Tower didn’t know what exactly had happened to the Pikachu when she was under the possession of her previous trainer, it obviously wasn’t good.  She needed someone with a lot of patience, someone who would understand her better than anyone else to get her to come out of that shell.

Here was hoping their latest winner would be the right choice for rehoming her.  Ben didn’t know much about this guy, but apparently he was great with these kinds of Pokemon, a real expert on rehabilitating mistreated Pokemon.  Pikachu desperately needed a fellow like that.  But the important thing now was finding Pikachu so he could hand the Electric-type off to this guy, N Harmonia.  But she’s nowhere in sight.

And so there the DJ is, on his hands and knees, looking around for Pikachu, till he finally spots here in the corner of the room underneath his desk.  Ben doesn’t get any closer to her.  Nothing will be achieved by him trying to get her to come to him.  She’s not his Pokemon and he doesn’t want to stress her out any more than she already is being here.  Besides, an Electric-type attacking in his sound booth?  Now that would be bad news.

Ben nearly jumps out of his skin when he hears someone enter the booth.  Pikachu whimpers but stays in her spot.  As the DJ stands up, he puts on a smile for the man and greets him with a friendly, “Hey!  Thanks for coming.  I– hang on.”  Ben turns and recalls Pikachu to her Pokeball and hands it off.

“Usually we try to let you get some face time with your new Pokemon, but she’s so scared, I don’t think this is a good place to do it.  You have a lot of work to do with her, but I heard you’re great with Pokemon, right?  She came from a home hoarding Pokemon and… it took a toll on her.  I wanna see her do well, so I’m counting on you, okay?  Please be good to her.”

“Heeey, Ponyta!  Look what I got!  Fresh berries!  Eat up, kiddo!”

As soon as Ben opens his palm, a nice little pile of various berries in hand, the Ponyta rushes over and gobbles them up, leaving nothing but a little berry juice and slobber in her wake.  The DJ simply stares down at his hand afterwards, silently laughing to himself before wiping his hand off with a paper towel he had prepared on the desk.  Ponyta whinnies and rears with joy before slamming back onto the floor again.

With a quick hand, Ben rests it on the nape of the Pokemon’s neck, just below its fiery blue mane.  “Relax, girl!  It’s just a little snack!”

Gosh, this Ponyta was overzealous.  So much energy, and so little room in the Radio Tower!  How did she fit all that excitement in her tiny body anyways?  For as thin as the Ponyta is, she seems so strong despite it.  Ben would dread to see this Fire-type at her full strength.  Hopefully, a tough but kind trainer would be able to help this Ponyta get that excess energy out and get her to calm down more.  She needed good air and open space, too, so here was hoping this trainer had plenty of that to spare.

According to Mary, the winner of this lovely Ponyta is a girl the Radio Tower knows well.  She’s won a couple prizes before and as far as they’ve heard, she’s taken wonderful care of the Minun and Litwick in her possession as well.  Ponyta will be a lovely choice for such a kind girl, so Ben was looking forward to becoming acquainted with this young lady too.

When Ben lays eyes on Lillie, he smiles warmly and guides the Ponyta over to the trainer.  “Yes ma’am, we got a Ponyta here who needs a good bit of love from someone’s who’s got the time for her.  She needs an active trainer to really thrive, so I hope you can handle her!  It might take some time to get used to her, but I think you’ll be all right.  She’s a hungry little thing, so make sure you don’t overfeed her.  She loves berries, though, so pack lots of those… uh… other than that, I think you’re set to take her!”

Ben turns to face the Ponyta, which stares at him.  Placing hands squarely on both of its shoulders, he says, “Be good to Lillie, Ponyta!  She’s gonna take good care of you, so be on your best behavior!”  The Ponyta blinks, then whinnies.  Ben nods definitively, as if that settles it.  “Okay, well, have fun with her and hopefully you guys are gonna be best of friends!”

Ben’s hand rests lazily on the back of the Corsola in his lap, slightly leaned back in his chair as he scribbles down some notes for later.  The runner up to the raffle should be here any minute to take her off of his hands.  When he found out it was somewhat of a celebrity who won the prize, one that had won their raffle previously, he was awfully surprised.  Ben had met a hell of a lot of musicians in his time, but he hadn’t yet had the chance to meet Alice.  This would be a great opportunity to meet her.  She sounded sweet, based on what Mary had told him when she had met the idol before.

When he hears someone step into his booth, he spins around to greet them and– ah, there she is, the woman of the hour with a Dunsparce in hand.  Though Ben wasn’t the one to take care of the Dunsparce before they handed it off to the Idol, he had heard from Mary how the creature had been in a somewhat miserable state when he had come into their possession.  Now, it looked so contented.  What a difference a good, caring trainer could make!  Hopefully Alice could repeat that again here with her new prize, Corsola.

Ben stands up, cradling the Corsola in one arm, and extends a hand out for Alice to shake, grinning wide.  While Alice’s music wasn’t exactly to his taste– being a bit of an old school music snob himself– he did play it on the Music Channel from time to time.  It was popular, what could he say?  And some of those songs were real ear worms, getting stuck in Ben’s head all the time, which wasn’t helped by Mary playing the Idol’s tunes from time to time at home as well.  It was always an honor to meet the people behind the music he played, and this was no exception.

“Hey, great to meet you!  I’m so glad to see that Dunsparce is doing so well with you.  Mary is gonna be so happy when I tell her how happy the little guy is.  She was so worried about how he was going to do when he found his forever home.  Well, we got another project for you.”

The DJ softly runs his free hand over the Corsola’s back.  While most Corsola were a beautiful and vibrant pink and blue, the coral branches on this Pokemon’s back were brown and black– a tell-tale sign that this Corsola was living in unhealthy, polluted water when it was picked up.  Poor thing was doing better than before, but she needed good love and care.  This Corsola was awfully slow, hardly doing much all day, but Ben was certain that once she was feeling better, she’d be much more active and happy.  These Pokemon were so sweet in his experience, so it broke his heart a bit to see it in the straits it was in currently.  At least he knew he could count on someone like Alice to make sure Corsola got just what she needed to recover.

After a slight pause, looking down silently to the Pokemon, he glances back to Alice.  “This Corsola was living in this nasty, polluted bay, so her coral is dying.  Don’t worry, just keep her in some clean, warm salt water for a couple weeks, and keep a good eye on her, and she’ll be good as new!  If the branches break off, that’s okay too.  They grow back as quick as a Slowpoke tail!  And now, she’s all yours.  Take good care of her, all right?  I wanna see her healthy and happy just like Dunsparce here!”

With satisfaction in his heart, DJ Ben leans back in his chair, humming a soft tune to himself.  He was definitely getting used to running these events now-- and what a blast they are!  He can’t wait to see the look on those happy campers’ faces when they realize how much fun the camping event would really be!  Or-- so he would hope.  And if they turned out to be dissatisfied, well... maybe this would brighten their spirits a bit.

Each camper participated in this raffle just the same, so four unhappy campers could be transformed into happy ones with the announcement of that fabulous, magnificent prize of a shiny Pokemon to take home.  Won’t they be so grateful for such a neat gift!  Ben loved giving away those Pokemon.  They deserved a nice home.  And hey, if those campers did well in his little scavenger hunt, then they could get some pretty worthwhile prizes all around!

Mary had her concerns about the event, but Ben just had a great feeling about all of this.  Yes, it would be something to remember-- who could ever forget winning such a cool, shiny Pokemon?

CONGRATULATIONS TO...

LILLIE, COOLTRAINER ASH, and N HARMONIA-- You are our lucky winners for the Summerniversary Event!  Your names were the first to be drawn for our event, so now it’s time to take your pick of any Fire-, Electric-, or Dragon-type shiny Pokemon!  There is no need to wait for the other winners to make their pick; everyone can choose whichever type they desire, regardless of what other types were chosen.

DJ Ben’s become used to the near-constant sound of scuttling around his booth with Mimikyu around.  It’s such an energetic little creature, it’s a wonder it ever finds time to rest.  What starts to worry him is when he stops hearing it wander around.  That means it’s about to get into trouble, or it wants to play with Ben– or both.  Usually both.

When the booth falls silent, Ben stops what he’s doing and spins around in his chair to look around.  Mimikyu isn’t anywhere in sight.  It must want to play hide and seek with him again.  Ben sighs and stands up, standing akimbo while he more carefully surveys his booth.  It’s a pretty small space, so it’s gotta be somewhere.  Talking aloud to himself, Ben says, “Now where did that Pikachu go?”

From under his desk, he hears an excited chatter, but he doesn’t look there just yet.  It’s all part of the game, you see.  So Ben checks behind the shelf and loudly says, “Not here!”  And once again, he hears happy cries from the other side of the room.  Then Ben checks behind his crates of records– an actually decent hiding spot, but Mimikyu’s not there either.  “Not there either?  Where the heck did that Pokemon go?”

Finally, getting on his hands and knees and glancing under he desk, the DJ spots Mimikyu, which rushes forward and bumps its body against his head with excitable friendliness.  Ben snorts, then lifts the tiny Fairy-type into his arms.

“Ahh, you got me again!  You’re so good at this, huh?”

Mimikyu cries happily, crawling along his arm up to his shoulder, perched like a typical Pikachu.  Just moments later, Leaf steps into his booth.  She seems thrilled about the Mimikyu, and before DJ Ben can move a muscle, Mimikyu rushes over to Leaf, hopping around her feet in hopes of being picked up by the trainer.

Ben grins.  “A shiny Mimikyu?  Sure is.  And she’s all yours now.  Even if she wasn’t, I don’t think I could convince her to leave you now.  She likes you a lot!  Just make sure you play with her a lot.  She’s got waaay too much energy for an old guy like me.  I think that’s why her old owner gave her away… needed more engagement than they could give, you know?  So take her on walks!  Buy her toys!  Play hide and seek– that’s her favorite.”  Ben leans down and gives Mimiku a hearty and affectionate pat on the head.  “Hey, you don’t cause this girl too much trouble now, you hear?”

He turns around and grabs the Pokeball on his desk and holds it out to Leaf.  “Have fun.”

Ben’s just returning to his booth when he hears something from inside.  It sounds like... singing?  But, what could that be...?  He hadn’t put any music on, and there’s no sound of instruments, so it’s not a record.  He stays put, just outside the door, ear hovering just above the wood.  Wait, could it be--?

DJ Ben opens the door and the singing abruptly stops and the Gardevoir Ben is holding for a winner stares at him wide-eyed.  Oh, this poor thing was terribly shy!  It hardly looked at him, let alone made any sound.  Ben did his best to try and get it to open up to him while it was waiting to be adopted out, but to no avail.  He knows that under that shell, there’s a happy and friendly Pokemon.  He doesn’t have enough time to help it get out of this shell, but he’s holding out hope its new trainer.

Ben smiles to the Gardevoir that’s quickly stepping out of his way nervously.  He sits down in his chair at the desk and then looks to the Pokemon.  “Was that you, Gardevoir?” the DJ asks. “That was really good!”  Gardevoir blinks and stares.  “So, you like music?”  It nods.  “Aha!  You do!  Let me see if I got anything you like...”

Sifting through his carefully arranged set of records, he pulls out a nice, vintage jazz record.  He starts the record up, and soon, the sounds of music fill the booth.  This song has got such a smooth, pleasing sound, and Ben finds himself snapping along.  Glancing to Gardevoir, he can see it looks displeased.

“Ah, not a jazz fan?”  Laughs.  “All right, hang on...”

Before he can make another great selection, somebody enters.  He sits up in his chair, and stands up to say hello.  Gardevoir looks anxious about the appearance of this new person and remains behind DJ Ben.

“A band, huh?  Nice.  If you ever make an album, send it my way.  I might play it on air for you.  Well, you’re going to have to work with Gardevoir on that.  He’s super shy, so it might take some time for him to warm up to you.  But he’s pretty good singer, so you’re in luck today!”  Looking to Gardevoir, he adds, “Don’t worry.  You guys are gonna be great friends! Just, uh... don’t make him listen to jazz, okay?  He doesn’t like it.”

Ben shoots one last reassuring smile to Gardevoir.  He places the Pokemon’s Pokeball into the lucky winner’s hand.  “Be good to him and be patient.”

“H-Hey, no!  Don’t touch that, please!”

DJ Ben pulls the award out of Croagunk’s hand gingerly, half not to upset the Pokemon and half because of the layer of slime that has unfortunately enveloped the object.  He groans at the slick, gross feeling of holding the award.  This had been a trophy given to him for his work at this very radio station-- it was special, by the gods, and he didn’t need the Poison-type rubbing its weird greasy hands all over it!

It's such a troublemaker of a Pokemon despite its deathly calm appearance.  You’d be hard-pressed to encounter a wild Croagunk out in Johto, so admittedly, Ben just doesn’t know how to handle Croagunk.  That’s why he’s glad some lucky person gets to take the frog home.  He’s certain that with the right person, Croagunk will be as happy as can be!

Here’s hoping the winner of Croagunk likes rowdy, slimy Poison-types...

While he’s wiping off the award with a towel and placing it back in its rightful place on the shelf, Ben can hear Croagunk messing with papers behind him.  He spins around, bumping into his shelf.  His miscellaneous stuff and things that were set upon the shelf fall over rolling around and then off the shelves entirely.  He cringes at the sound, but is more concerned with Croagunk not messing with important documents.  Once they’re slimy, there’s no going back from that.

DJ Ben manages to wrest the papers from Croagunk’s hands, and they’re not in too bad a shape.  He’s just about to scold the amphibian, until he hears someone enter his booth.  He takes a deep breath, smooths his hair back, and then turns around to greet the woman with his most charming smile.  She must be the lucky recipient of this fine Pokemon-- what fine timing!

Just from the quick look-over he gives this woman, she seems like the kind of trainer who could handle a Pokemon like this, or so he’s hoping.  Ushering the Croagunk forward so the woman can get a better look, Ben says, “Hey!  You’re--” checks the paper listing the winners again-- “Anzu, yeah?  Hey, congrats on winning.  I hope you like Croagunk, ‘cause that’s what you’re getting!”

Ben hands off Croagunk’s Pokeball to Anzu, then looks down to the frog, which stares up at him.  He hasn’t known this Pokemon for very long, and yes, it was a nuisance, but this still feels like a parting of friends somehow.  He very, very softly pats the Croagunk on its head.  He looks back to Anzu.

“I think you’ll really like this guy.  He’s really rowdy and likes touching all your stuff, so watch out for the slime.  But you know what?  You guys’ll get along great!  Take good care of him, all right?”

DJ Ben stretches out in his chair, yawning silently to himself.  The Delibirds flew out just a few hours prior, and he feels nothing but utmost confidence in them.  He’d never bring it up to Mary, but he still can’t believe how the messages managed to get mixed up for three years running.  He’s determined to make this Valentine’s Day go as smoothly as possible.  Delibird are known for their innate delivery skills.  How could anything go wrong?

Ben’s going to show Mary that letting him take the reigns of this event wasn’t a mistake.  Everything was going to go right this year!  He has a good feeling about these Delibird as they return, one-by-one, to the Radio Tower.  Passing around nicely-decorated Pokepuffs to each obedient Delibird as reward, DJ Ben can’t help but feel all too pleased with himself about the event.

Such a shame he mixed the Delibirds up on their way out.

What DJ Ben brings to you, under the cut, is a tragic tale of woe.  Each Valentine has been preserved in its original state.  None of the people who actually received each Valentine were the intended recipients.

To further add to the confusion, each Valentine was randomized three separate times along with their sender counterparts.  Thanks to the based RNG gods, some people received quite the coincidental string of Valentines…

DJ Mary took one last, long look around the office.  Everything was in its place, from her desk to her bookshelf to her favorite squashy pouf.  Even Meowzie’s torn cushion lay neat in the corner.  She held the clipboard closer to her pounding chest.  A vacation.  Right.  She hadn’t gone on vacation in years—she was perfectly fine without one.  Mary closed her eyes tight and forced herself out of her office.  Grudgingly put her key in the lock.

There was no going back now.  Her bags were packed, and Ben—gods, he looked so excited to be running this event for her!  He’d been in the music industry as long as she had.  He’ll be fine.

He’ll be fine, Mary encouraged herself.  She steeled herself for the week she’d be away from the Radio Tower.  Gosh, I miss it already.  Mary took a deep breath.  And another.  And walked to DJ Ben’s office, where she dutifully placed the clipboard containing the rest of the instructions for this season’s event into his inbox.  Pinned to the clipboard was a scrap of paper that read, “to the chords of my heart—you’ll do great<3.″

As she walked out of the Radio Tower, DJ Mary’s sensible shoes felt lighter.  Ben was perfectly capable of running events.  What could possibly go wrong?

DANCER CLAUDIA, LEAF, and MUSICIAN KATLYN—Congratulations!  Your names were the first to be drawn in the raffle.  You may now pick one (1) shiny Pokemon as your very own, so long as it is a Normal-, Psychic-, or Fairy-type. There is no need to wait for the other winners to make their pick; everyone can choose whichever type they desire, regardless of what other types were chosen.

Mary really, really didn’t want to part with the exotic Vulpix.  She was everything Mary had ever dreamed of ever since she was a child.  The soft, luxurious fur... the big, fluffy ears... and the smallest of beans on her feet!  Aaa, she could hardly stand it!  DJ Mary held the Alolan Vulpix closer to her chest and closed her eyes.  Absolutely delightful.

When the young man, Brendan, strolled into her office, Mary was loathe to let her go.  But she was a professional, and so she stood, greeted the boy, and placed her into his arms.  Vulpix mewled cutely, and it was almost more than she could take.  “This Vulpix is really special!  Her owner gave her up because she likes to dig.  She’s also frightened of loud noises and bright lights.”

Mary patted the boy on the cheek.  “You will take care of her, won’t you?”

Just why, exactly, did she let Tyrunt out?  It was one tiny peek (she only wanted to see), but now her office was trashed.  An absolute wreck.  Papers everywhere, books out of order, coffee stains on the floor!  She clamped her hands tight around the wriggling Poke Ball; Tyrunt still wanted to play.  Mary scolded the tiny dragon and put her on the pedestal on her desk.  It wiggled again.

When Draze walked through the door, Mary cried with relief.  She leaped back to her desk, stepping all over the mess on the floor and nearly slipping, and thrust the worn capsule in his hand.  “Hello!” she exclaimed, breathless.  She adjusted her glasses and tucked a piece of loose hair behind her hear.  “Thanks for coming to get Tyrunt!  She’s... she’s just a handful.  Ever since she lost her eye, she’s become more clumsy.  So she’s been biting things... knocking things over... getting into places she shouldn’t...” Mary trails off, thinking about having to train the little nightmare.  Not that she hated Tyrunt, but... she just didn’t have patience for that sort of thing.

“I hope you’re ready for a challenge!” the DJ says, smiling brightly.  “Tyrunt here will give you one.  Take care!”

There’s a place in Mary’s heart for all round and soft Pokemon.  She’d never seen a Dunsparce in person before today, and frankly she’s kicking herself for not finding one sooner.  It was just so cute!  The DJ smiles warmly and gingerly rests her hand on his round head.  Dunsparce looks at her, then grumbles and settles himself further in her lap.

She might just die of cuteness overload.  Meowzie sits in the corner, her tail twitching irritably.  She settles on her haunches like she’s ready to strike.  Mary knows that Meowzie’s jealous, but today was about Dunsparce.  He was finally getting a good home after years of being in the system.  He deserved to be happy, too.

When the girl walks into the room, Mary’s eyes light up.  She smiles hugely and welcomes her inside her office.  “Hello, hi!  It’s so nice to meet you!”  Mary lifts up Dunsparce and proudly shows him to the young idol.  “This here is Dunsparce, isn’t he cute?  I’m so glad you’re going to take care of him.

“He doesn’t like strangers.  His poor wings also don’t work as well as they used to... another Pokemon must’ve taken a bite out of them; you can still see the scars.”  Mary gives Dunsparce carefully to the girl, and pats her on the shoulder.  “He’s going to need a lot of attention.  I’m glad I can count on you.”

DJ Mary adjusts her glasses, nonplussed.  Her cheeks burn hot and there’s a 75% chance they’ll fog up before too long.  The boy’s hopping from one foot to another, ready and eager to adopt his new Pokemon.  Mary hesitantly motions him inside, to where he rushes in, sees the small dragon, and instantly grabs him in his arms.  Barry’s carefree like that.

But the Deino isn’t.  He chomps delightfully down on the boy’s arm, gurgling deep in his mouth.  “Oh no!” she exclaims.  Mary can already see the white sheen of drool dripping down Barry’s arm.  "Ah, um, I’m so sorry!  He’s, um, he really likes to bite!  But he doesn’t have teeth right now...” Mary said, trying to take the dragon from the boy’s arms, but failing miserable.  “The Professor doesn’t know when they’ll grow back... dragons are mysterious creatures.”

She eyed the boy and his new Pokemon.  The dragon was full of energy, matched only by Barry.  She vaguely wondered if this was a good idea, but seeing the boy’s smile set that thought to rest.  Mary smiled.  “Take good care of Deino, okay?  He’s quite rowdy, and doesn’t like to listen.”

Desperate times called for desperate measures.  Holly, garland, and tinsel in hand, DJ Mary nodded solemnly.  There was only one thing to be done.  She stole a glance at Meowzie—Meowzie, who wore the most darling red bow around her neck, meowed, and hopped up on her chair, where she proceeded to curl up and fall asleep.  Yes, it seemed everyone felt that holiday spirit.

She checked her Pokétch.  Time to get going.  Pushing up the sleeves of her sweater, and securing her glasses on her nose, Mary set to work decorating her office, studio, Ben’s office, and the foyer of the Tower in record time.  Red and greens and blues and whites and lights and sparkles and snow and stars and so, so much more!  Nobody had ever seen such a festive wonderland.

I wonder if I went a little overboard, she thought, heading back to her office.  She giggled, knowing Ben at least would find it hilarious.  No, there was no such thing as celebrating too much.

DRAGON TAMER DRAZE, CLAIR, and BRENDAN—Congratulations!  Your names were the first to be drawn in the raffle.  You may now pick one (1) shiny Pokemon as your very own, so long as it is a Ice-, Rock-, or Steel-type. There is no need to wait for the other winners to make their pick; everyone can choose whichever type they desire, regardless of what other types were chosen.

Not even an hour and her office was already trashed.  Mary looked with alarm at the papers that littered the floor, just barely fighting back tears.  She choked on a sob.  In the middle of the mess was Mimikyu.  She stared at Mary defiantly, her Pikachu-like tail quivering.

“I-it’s all right,” Mary said, shivering.  “It’s just paper.  I can clean it up, see?”  And she moved to pick up a file.  Mimkyu wasn’t having any of it, though: she zoomed forward in a black blur and smacked the folder from the DJ’s hands.  Mary yelped, leaping back in surprise.

Mimikyu hissed and spit.  She tore the folder to shreds.  This wasn’t going to end well.

Just then there was a blissful knock on the door, and the blonde artist Mina walked in.  Mary flushed at the state of her office.  “H-hello, Mina!” she said, stepping towards the girl and giving Mimikyu a wide berth.  “I’m so sorry for this mess—Mimiyku, see...” and she trailed off.

DJ Mary would have looked helpless had she not been a professional.  But she steered herself up and forced a smile at Mina.  “Mimikyu is very restless,” she began, “and doesn’t know how to cope.  She just... destroys.  We think it’s because she wants the attention.”  She gave a weak laugh.  “Please give Mimikyu a good home.  She needs it.”

Phantump let out a high, bell-like tinkle of a giggle and reappeared at Mary’s elbow.  The wisps that were her arms gingerly grazed Mary’s skin and she shuddered—th-that wasn’t natural.  Feeling 10 degrees cooler, the DJ smiled weakly.  Phantump giggled again.

“Easy now, Phantump,” Mary chastised with a forced grin, “we mustn’t get too carried away.”

But that wasn’t in the Pokemon’s vocabulary—indeed, the Phantump disappeared only to reappear several feet from where it floated next to her desk.  She stared at the expensive baubles the Director gave Mary with childlike wonder.  Meowzie hissed, her golden eyes glinting.  Her tail flicked irritably.

As much as DJ Mary loved Pokemon, ghosts freaked her out most.  That was a lie: they terrified her.  She was abashed to admit it, but the sooner the participant came to retrieve her—

A brief knock, and the door opened, revealing a very tall, very large, red-haired man.  His face was gaunt and his eyes were sad.  Phantump materialized next to him immediately, her blue eyes glowing.

DJ Mary knew this man.  As Lysandre stepped into the office, she did her best not to scream.  “A-ah, h-hello!  Um, yes, I’m—I’m DJ Mary.  Th-this is, um, Phantump...” she feebly waved towards the Pokemon.  Phantump studied Lysandre closely.  “She’s... ah... rather bold, er, affectionately, that is.

“Phantump doesn’t like being alone,” DJ Mary finished lamely.  “Please take good care of her.”