"Ugly!"

"Creepy!"

"Ugh, stop following me you bastard! No one cares about you and your creepy mime friends."

Words like these hurt a Mr.Mime emotionally as he trudged through a town.

He had to go. No matter how hurtful their words were he had to pass them by. His family relied on him of all the children they had to go out and fetch them their daily dinner from the Kecleon Mart.

The young mime rolled his back and shoulders, pulling a bag off his shoulders.

He reached inside his bag, pulling out a wad of cash.

Mr. Mime glanced down at the pp in his possession. 450 for apples and Oran berries.

He had a pretty big family, plus he was the only one with enough skill in case someone thought about fighting him.

Clowns like him weren't treated like any other. The only Pokémon he saw beaten down like him was a Duskull. Even then the ghost-type could float, and he couldn't.

He set his gaze upon the ground, praying to Arceus he wouldn't be halted in his quest.

His feet constantly hit the ground with as much silence as he could muster.

Gotta get to the market! He thought in hastiness, his feet scrapping slightly against the ground.

It's a good thing most ignored him.

He didn't want to get a beating.

If Pokemon were so scared of clown-like Pokemon, then why were they so eager to beat them up?

It seems most of the Pokémon located here weren't willing to attack him, though.

At least something good about being an unwanted clown in these parts. He pondered.

Pokemon would more than often fear to even touch him in case he used his mind tricks on them.

His pace slowed down as a little shop came closer in view. A young Kecleon was wiping down the counter.

The Kecleon turned around, screaming in fright. He leaped a foot into the air.

The same response every time.

But no matter how frightened the Kecleon was, he was always eager to sell his items.

The Kecleon forced a smile on his face, but his body language told Mr.Mime Kecleon wanted to run far away from where he was.

"Hello! Have you come to shop like always?" He asked, smothering his face with a wide smile.

The Mr. Mime quietly nodded his head.

He was better off not talking. Bad things could happen if he talked.

Many Pokémon might take his words the wrong way like they've done before.

He barely escaped with his eyes the last time.

He got close, but not too close in case the Kecleon would get the wrong idea.

Kecleon leaned away but then asked, "What can I get you today?"

Mr. Mime sighed. It would appear the Kantonian variant would have to speak in order to get the groceries.

It was moves like this that tested the Psychic-Type's mentality state.

"I have 45o Poke. I would like some Apples and Oran Berries please if that's not too much to ask. Also if you don't have enough, I'll look elsewhere." Mr. Mime said swiftly, praying with tingles of fear he wouldn't be attacked.

The Mr. Mime placed the Poke on the counter.

The Kecleon counted the money eagerly, turning his back for a couple of seconds.

Instantly, despite not doing anything but standing there, Mr.Mime was pinned down by a Scizor.

"Don't you dare sneak upon that unsuspecting Kecleon like that!!" He roared, not wasting a single moment as his claws turned green.

Instantly, the Scizor attacked the Mr. Mime with X-Sissor.

Mr. Mime put out his arms to protect his face.

What fuck! He thought with his eyes closed. I didn't even move a muscle!

This was the kind of discrimination Mr. Mime received. And not just him. It was his whole kind that received this treatment from most Pokémon who existed. Especially Pokémon who were aggressive.

Scizor weren't naturally this aggressive or were aggressive towards him, but there was something with this Scizor.
Maybe it was the scar on his jaw that sent the shivers down Mr.Mime's neck, but he just knew this Scizor had something to him.

The Scizor lashed out again with the same attack.

This time, however, Mr. Mime didn't have enough time to protect himself, and he could see a flash of green before it all went dark.

He cried out in pain.

"Whoa! Whoa! whoa!" Kecleon spat out.

It's like he wants to say something, but can't. What?! I don't...I can't see! The bitch blinded me!

Before the Mr. Mime had so much as a protection strategy the Scizor attacked him once more.

Pain erupted from his throat. He wanted to talk, but couldn't breath.

The Scizor attacked him once more.

His knees felt weak and he could feel his blood pool at his own feet.

A quick snap could be heard with the last attack and the Mr. Mime's head rolled clean off.

Satisfied, the Scizor turned around and walked away with a smirk.

The Kecleon gasped at the Murder he just witnessed. Then, he collected the money, and prepared himself to tell the family of the bad news.
————

Authors note: sorry if this ends up a bit too long, but first I would like to say thank you so much for reading this! It means so much!

I decided to write about the kinds of Treatments Mr. Mime get because they looked like clowns and lots of people just see them as a creepy clown that has no feelings. Since mr. mime can't talk for themselves, and since the main character of the prologue can't even keep his head on, I decided to show people Mr. Mime deserves a chance.

And with that I hope you enjoy the rest of the story. And if you did please vote and comment! ❤️❤️❤️