That's right, part one! This story started to get VERY long, and as I really want to hold to a policy of uploading once per day, I'll give my stories to y'all in ~3k word chunks, as that's how much I can write in four hours.

Anyway, please enjoy the beginning of the tale of Goodra, who mistreats the inflated patrons of PokePark's Balloon Area and gets his just desserts!

(Obligate reminder that story commissions are open for a USD penny per word! :D Click here for full commission details)

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Lighten Up!
By Balloondra

Part One: A Grumpy Goodra

The Balloon Area rose up from the horizon like a floating castle, a massive, walled amusement park on an island with tall, colorful buildings and just as many massive and brightly colored balloons floating about, tethered to posts on walls or to the ground outside of view. Music was faintly audible even from the Wailord ferry a half-mile away.

On that ferry was Goodra, who took in all the sights and sounds and couldn’t help but think… “Eh.”

He really wasn’t impressed by PokePark— neither the original installations; the expansion for Areas like Cove, Crag, Arbor, and so forth; nor this new Area a fair bit off the coast of Cove area elicited any amount of excitement in the pudgy dragon.

Not for lack of trying, mind you. He’d duly visited each in turn and suffered through its boring attractions, only to move onto the next and repeat. All the Pokémon he met were so annoyingly cheerful at that and refused to just leave him be. He would have gone home long ago if his friends back home hadn’t essentially bribed him to spend a whole day in each area.

Now he was approaching the Balloon Area, the last stop in his “vacation”. All he had to do was deal with whatever gimmicks the Area Leader had in store, spend one last night in Pokepark, and finally be on his way home tomorrow.

Wailord came to a gentle stop at the pier. The ferry Pokémon bowed his head as a makeshift ramp as a little Fennekin employee in a blue vest uniform unlocked the gate for the car of benches atop him. “Welcome, one and all, to the Balloon Area!” Wailord jovially said.

Pokémon filed out, thanking the Fennekin and Wailord for the journey. The cacophony of voices only exacerbated Goodra’s headache. He stepped off the metal car and walked down Wailord’s snout to the entrance of the Balloon Area, an arch wide and tall enough to fit Regigigas and Giratina walking side-by-side. Above the arch was the words “The Balloon Area” in bubbly, colorful letters. How saccharine.

Within the park was a light bustle of Pokémon heading to and from various attractions and stands. To his immediate right beyond the gate was a little milk bar run by a Miltank, and straight ahead at a crossroads was a Buizel by a colorful little building— barely more than a shack made of painted concrete bricks— and a downright massive bundle of life-sized Pokémon-shaped balloons, though they were mostly round.

That piqued Goodra’s interest— or what was left of it. He walked up to Buizel, who waved cheerfully up at him. “Hello!” He exclaimed with a smile that stretched across his short muzzle. “Welcome to Buizel’s Balloon Rental! Will you be renting or volunteering today?”

Goodra blinked and frowned. “What kind of options are those?”

Buizel’s countenance brightened. “Oh! You must be new here! Well, then, let me introduce you to the Balloon Area’s best known secret… say hi, everyone!”

Above him, the Pokémon balloons all said hello, some even doing their best to wave squeakily despite their bloated forms. Goodra gasped, eyes widening, stumbling back. But he regained his composure a minute later. “These balloons are alive?” he asked.

Buizel nodded, still smiling brightly. “They’re the volunteers! Many a patron to the Balloon Area come here just to let me and my boss blow them up into enormous latex Pokéloons for others to rent out! It cost ten berries to rent, and you get eight berries for being rented out yourself. Interested?”

“Hold on. So you literally inflated other Pokémon to turn them into latex balloons, and now you’re offering them to me to… rent them. For what?” Goodra was rather put off by all of this, but at the same time he was intensely curious that such a practice existed— and by the looks of things around the park, was very popular.

Buizel shrugged. “Anything, really. They’ve volunteered to become toys, and fully expect to be treated as playthings! Bounce them around, blow them up bigger or deflate them, use them to play games and attractions… there’s a fair number of places that require you to have an overinflated partner!”

Goodra sighed. PokePark was a weird place, but this was quickly becoming the weirdest by far. Still, he could use a guide who could help him pass the time… “Ten berries, right?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Sure, I’ll take one,” he muttered, fishing in his bag for ten berries. He looked up to see Buizel just standing there. He frowned at the worker. “Well?”

“Is something the matter?” Buizel looked confused.

“Aren’t you going to get me one?”

He smiled back, seeming increasingly uncomfortable. “W-well, take your pick! They’d all be happy to be yours for the day.” A cacophony of squeaks and voices agreed.

Goodra groaned and looked up at all the happy-looking Pokéloons, but he just couldn’t be bothered to make a real choice. “Ugh, um. Zorua.” He pointed to a black fox balloon about one-and-a-half meters wide, with a stiffly inflated tail and limbs.

“C-certainly.” Buizel’s tails wagged anxiously as he untied her from the post with the other Pokéloons and tied her instead to a heavy metal ring painted red and white like a Pokéball, which he offered to Goodra in exchange for the ten berries.

Zorua giggled mirthfully. “Hooray! Thanks for renting me out, Goodra!”

“Right,” was all Goodra could manage as he walked away, tugging the Zorua along.

And behind them, Buizel’s manager, Floatzel, watched from an open window in the rental stand’s building. He narrowed his eyes and resolved to keep a watch on that Goodra…

“So, what’re we gonna do together? Enter any little tournaments or games? Or maybe we can take a blimp up to the Sky Zone!” Her high-pitched voice grated at the Goodra and he found himself struggling not to snap at her. He was walking aimlessly through the park, Zorua floating just a little behind.

“How should I know? I’ve never been here before. I’m basically only here on a day, so I’m not really interested in whatever balloon games you guys have.” He blinked as he remembered that defining trait of balloons. “What happens if you pop?”

“Um.” Goodra could hear her rubber tail squeaking against her hollow body as she formulated a reply. “Well, don’t you think any of it’s worth a try, at least? And if anyone pops, it’s no big deal! I’ll basically just pull my scraps together, and then poof! I’m back to my regular fluffy self.”

“What if I pop you?”

“Well, sure! You’re certainly entitled to prick me with something sharp or blow me up to bursting! Then once I’m back to normal, fill me up with helium again and I’ll be your big ol’ balloon some more!”

Goodra fixed her with an incredulous, almost accusing look. He couldn’t begin to comprehend why she was so thrilled about being literally torn to shreds in an instant. It sounded awful! He sighed again, nursing his headache with his free paw. “Whatever. Since I have nothing better to do, I guess, I’ll try something. What’s good around here?”

Zorua seemed taken aback by his attitude, but she didn’t question it. “Well… how about Miltank’s Latex Tap and Bar?”

“You drink latex here?”

“No, it’s totally edible and all that! But aside from her regular drinks, her special ‘Moo ‘loon Milk’ has the special property of turning you into a Pokéloon without the need to inflate first. It lasts twelve hours on its own, though she sells an ‘antidote’ for it as well. Not that anyone buys that!” Zorua snickered again.

“I’m not hungry and I’m definitely not interesting in turning into a child’s plaything. What else?”

“Th-that’s sort of the point of this place, you know?” Zorua’s voice quivered.

“Don’t care. What else?”

“I mentioned Rayquaza’s Sky Zone. It’s super cool! It’s like a whole second Balloon Area of the park but way up in the sky and upside down! There, helium feels like air and air feels like helium and everything’s so bouncy and puffy, since you have to be in order to fall “up”! Oh, and sometimes Rayquaza himself visits so everyone there gets a pump and—”

“That’s enough, I don’t want to go. I don’t want to become a Pokéloon, which I just said, and if you had given it any thought you’d have realized that you have to be one to stay up there.”

“...Oh. Sorry.” She seemed deflated emotionally, if quite the opposite physically.

“What here doesn’t need me to blow myself up like some dumb pooltoy?” Goodra asked again.

“Umm… well, there’s a few competitions and games. Like, Furret’s ‘Panic Pump’, where you and a few other ‘owners’ deflate us Pokéloons entirely, then frantically pump us all up into needles in the ceiling! First owner-toy pair to get a pop wins the berry pot!” Goodra mumbled something dismissively.

Zorua frowned, but tried to force some cheer. “Or… my favorite of all, Mew’s ‘Spiky Spike Tower.’ It’s an incredibly precise obstacle course that maybe one person wins every other day. You have to navigate your ever-inflating Pokéloon up through a twenty-story tower filled with obstacles, fans, and of course, super-sharp spikes. Go too fast, your toy’ll juuuust touch a single needle and boom! Go too slow, and your Pokéloon will swell too big to fit through the trickier gaps and, well, boom. And the prize, good Arceus—”

“An exercise in futility if I’ve ever heard one.” Goodra quipped, shutting her down. He was starting to think this was a bad idea, dealing with this excessively happy balloon.

“W-well, what do you want to do, then?” Zorua huffed, frustrated.

What did he want to do? Well… something did come to mind. He could have a bit of fun and get rid of a problem at the same time. He picked at the knot tying Zorua to the metal ring.

Zorua yelped when she realized what he was doing. “C-careful with that! If I float away, it’ll take you forever for us to meet up again. And b-b-besides, who knows where I’ll land in the park?” She was growing increasingly nervous as Goodra continued unabated. “Please don’t let me float away! I don’t want to pop like that; I want to stay with you, help you relax and play games and— yipe!”

Goodra had pulled the knot free, letting the helium-filled Zorua rise high into the air. He had all the time in the world to grab the excess string and pull her down again, but he simply smiled for the first time as she floated up higher, higher… and out of reach. Her protests stopped, too, thankfully— she seemed consigned to her fate, and though he wouldn’t admit it even to himself, it was quite satisfying seeing her so scared and speechless.

Goodra relaxed on a plastic bench, craning his neck to watch Zorua float up and away for a time. It was nice to just let your problems go, he thought. He was content to relax here for a while; aside from the music blaring around him, it was quiet and relatively secluded.

“Excuse me! Goodra, sir?”

Oh, great, he thought. Another Pokémon to deal with. This one was a Floatzel in that blue staff uniform; in one paw he held a can of soda, and with the other he waved Goodra down.

He panted, paws on his knees before Goodra. “I… I saw what happened. I’m the owner of Buizel’s Balloon Stand— yes, I evolved after I began working here. But I noticed your interactions with my Pokéloon; you didn’t seem happy with her, did you?”

Goodra sniffed. “She was just irritating to me. That’s all.”

Floatzel nodded emphatically, to Goodra’s surprise. “I understand completely, sir. I’d like to apologize as well by offering a cold soda and a full refund. I’ll ensure she doesn’t bother others in the future, as well.”

Goodra smiled widely. Finally, somebody understood that the overly saccharine shtick just didn’t work for everyone. Besides, he was getting thirsty… “I accept your apology and gift, Floatzel. You’re a good manager.”

“Oh, wonderful. Here you go.” He passed the soda over and started to reach in his bag for some berries. While he waited for his refund, Goodra opened the ice-cold fizzy drink and took a nice, long swig, downing the whole can before even checking the brand. It was tangy and sour, which wasn’t all that good, but it was something at the least. The bubbles tickled his belly as he turned the orange can in his hand to find the name: “Pooltoy Tang”.

“And your payment, sir.” Floatzel handed over the ten berries. Payment? Goodra tilted his head; the bubbles hadn’t gone away in his stomach either— if anything, they were getting bigger and fizzier. Still, he pocketed the ten berries, frowning with confusion.

His eyes widened with realization when he saw his belly start to stretch and round out. He looked up to the Floatzel, angry. “You tricked me! That soda is going to blow me up into a Pokéloon, isn’t it?”

He shrugged, seeming entirely unconcerned. “Look, you’re being rude and obstinate. That sort of attitude won’t fly in the Balloon Area! Especially when there’s many, many living balloons around to be respectful of. It’s clear that you’re not going to lighten up by choice, so really, my only choice is to force you to lighten up… literally!”

Goodra got spooked, springing to his paws even as his body rounded out around the middle, growing wider and forcing his arms out to the side. He ran off as best he could, but he felt air fizz into his limbs as well, making them stiffen and squeak. It was hard to tell giving the natural glossiness of Goodra hide, but his new translucency had made it clear that he’d been converted to latex— if the knotted balloon nozzle that had appeared on his navel wasn’t proof enough. He continued inflating throughout, bubbles fizzing loudly inside him, forcing him to walk, then waddle, each step increasingly floaty, until he realized in horror that soon he wouldn’t be coming down.

Almost on cue, Floatzel caught up to him with a ring and a spool of ribbon string. Effortlessly, he knocked the swelling dragon over, then tied his balloon knot to the ring, then sat back and waited him to float up, tethered by the metal ring to the ground. And float he did, swelling up like some cartoonish toy of a Goodra, just a puffed-up head, tail, and limbs attached to a round lavender and purple globe over two meters across.

Goodra was too overwhelmed and embarrassed to say anything in response, even when Floatzel picked up his ring and tugged him back through the Area. He was just so overwhelmed by the unfamiliar sensation of being so huge, so tight… A gentle wind blew across his body, but being so big and hollow, it felt like a hurricane’s gale-force gusts.

So it felt like almost no time at all when he found himself crammed against the side of a bundle of Pokéloons at a very familiar stand… As he realized his surroundings, he snapped out of his inflated stupor. “H-hey!” he called out to the unresponsive Floatzel. If he still had a heart in his hollow chest it would have been pounding. “You can’t leave me here! I didn’t volunteer!” Painted-on eyes wide with fear, he looked up to the Pokéloons around him. “I didn’t volunteer! You can’t let them do this to me!”

“Oh, Floatzel called Buizel and Mew and explained everything,” Flaaffy said. She snickered. “Apparently, someone needs to lighten up!” She laughed even harder at the pun.

Goodra tried the other Pokéloons in vain. All of them seemed to be in agreement that he had broken the biggest unspoken rule within the park, and so fully deserved his fate to be sold off like the Pokéloon he cruelly mistreated.

Goodra squeaked against the other balloons as another breeze blew them all to one side. Helpless, unable to do little more than squeak and plead, Goodra shut his eyes and resigned himself to his fate.