The realisation of truth was the best thing to have ever happened to the newly named Zam. For years he'd been little Sammy. Little Sammy who was loved by his mother, little Sammy who'd been weak and helpless, little Sammy who no longer existed. Now Zam knew who he really was. He was one of a kind, an anomaly of the universe. He was special and he loved being special.

Looking back on it, he was very thankful of Kevin. After all, it was through Kevin's beatings that Sam had sustained brain damage in the first place and it was Kevin who had truly awoken Zam. Kevin had made Zam realise the harshness of the world and the role that Zam could play in it. Zam had escaped nature's cruel plans once before and that made him different to everyone else on the planet. He was a miracle and it was his job to utilise his life to the best of his abilities. There was a lot of justice to be served.

After taking his final A-Level exams much earlier than anyone else his age, the next stop for Zam was university. Whilst he could probably teach himself everything that was on the course, what he really needed was independence. His mother cared for him but his body was eighteen years old and he was done being babysat. It was time to take his life into his own hands.

He wasn't moving too far away. Having grown up in the hustle and bustle of Goldenrod City, Zam really didn't like the prospect of permanently moving away. Goldenrod was the hub of Johto and it was his home. It was his city.

Rather than renting accommodation provided by the University of Goldenrod, Zam had managed to convince his parents to lend him some money so that he could purchase a flat. It had left him almost completely bankrupt but it meant that he wasn't located actually on campus which gave him a lot more freedom as he had a feeling that attending lectures wouldn't be his main priority.

After a rather soppy goodbye from his parents and a short ride on the Goldenrod Underground, Zam had taken his first steps into his new, independent life. He still had to haul his overly large suitcase for a further ten minute walk from the station to the block of flats he'd be living in. He arrived at the tall building slightly out of breath and so he took a moment to slowly inhale the polluted air, relishing every second of it. There was something about this city and all of its flaws that appealed to Zam. The noise of traffic which he'd once hated and the busyness of it all was exactly what Zam wanted. His brain never stopped working and this city never slept.

He entered the building and was met with instant disappointment. The lift was out of order. Now he had to lug his suitcase up three flights of stairs and he was already worn out from the walk here. He wasn't exactly out of shape but he wouldn't describe himself as fit. Perhaps that was something to work on.

"Need an 'and wiv 'at?" Zam's head darted to the direction of the noise. It came from a young man, perhaps in his early twenties, clutching a small card that had just been handed to him by the lady at the front desk. He pocketed the card in his black leather trench coat before striding towards Zam, a grin on his face.

"That'd be really appreciated actually," Zam nodded after eventually working out what the man had meant. Zam inspected his face when he was close enough. The grin he wore showed off a set of yellow stained teeth surrounded by some well kept stubble. He looked young and his face didn't show much in terms of ageing, his short brown hair showed no signs of greying, but his eyes told a different story. The green spheres showed experience and hardship. They didn't twinkle or give any fairytale signs. They gave him a rugged look about him.

"Bleedin' 'eck, dis fing ain't 'arf 'eavy!" he exclaimed as the pair lifted the suitcase and proceeded to make their way up the stairs. His dialect was exceptionally strange. His words were gargled and barely comprehensible. Zam could only take a guess as to what he meant.

"Well, it is all of my belongings," Zam panted. Each step took considerable effort, even with a helper. "It'd be more of a surprise if it was light."

"S'pose so."

"This should be it," Zam breathed. "I'm in room three-oh-one." He inserted the room key he'd been given and the door swung open, revealing a small room that was a hybrid of a kitchen and living room. Zam shuffled in through the narrow doorway and set his suitcase down by the coffee table. He took several deep breaths and wiped the sweat from his forehead. He was exhausted.

"Fancy a beer? You look like you bleedin' well need one." The man gestured towards himself, walking across to the room opposite Zam's and opening the door with a key of his own. Given that this appeared to be his new neighbour, Zam figured that he might as well get to know him a little better.

"I've never actually tried one. I understand that it's a kind of beverage."

"A bleedin' good'un at that," the man grinned before extending his hand. "I'm Tristan by the way. Tristan Lawrence."

"Zam," Zam gave a firm handshake but was met with an odd look.

"Just Zam? Oh you ain't one o' dem weirdos are ya?"

"Well, I wouldn't exactly call myself normal." The pair entered Tristan's flat which should've looked identical to Zam's new accommodation but it didn't. The place was a mess. Bins overflowed, the television had been left on and numerous dirty pots and pans were just sitting on the kitchen worktop, with no apparent intention of ever being cleaned. Tristan threw down his keys on the coffee table and headed off into his bedroom.

Zam took a seat and picked up today's newspaper which had been lying on top of many magazines and TV guides on the coffee table. Before he could really begin reading the main story Bank Robbers Strike Again: Police Still Stumped, Zam's focus shifted to the television as he heard some breaking news.

"The results from the general election have been confirmed and it's Gordon Bennett and the Conservative party who have won by a majority in a shock outcome only a year after many were calling for the Prime Minister's resignation." The news anchor was cut off by Tristan re-entering the room and immediately turning the screen off. He was holding two brown bottles labelled 'Budweiser'.

"'Ow that wanka's won I'll never know," Tristan shook his head, handing Zam one of the bottles and slumping down next to him.

"In fairness, he has really turned things around in this last year," Zam pointed out. "With things on the rise and no signs of going back, what's the point in kicking him out and forcing a new government to start over again?"

"Cos 'e's a bloody tosspot," Tristan sighed, taking a swig of his beer. Zam eyed the bottle carefully before following suit.

"That's bloody disgusting!" Zam exclaimed as he forced the vile liquid down his throat. He then instinctively carried on drinking. It may have tasted like Purugly piss but there was something about it that left him wanting more.

"Now that 'its the spot dunnit?" Tristan grinned. He put the bottle down for a moment and retrieved the card from his pocket from earlier, a look of intense thought on his face. "Whatchoo reckon 'bout that bird from downstairs?"

"What about her?"

"In my league?"

"What kind of league are we talking about here?"

"Y'know, my league!"

"Placing a slight emphasis on the word does not actually explain what you mean," Zam sighed. This was a mistake that humans often made.

"I mean, she was at least like an eight righ'? Reckon I could get 'er in the sack?"

"Look Tristan, I'm going to be honest with you here," Zam said, "I literally have no idea what you're on about. I'm a human Alakazam hybrid and have absolutely no idea what any human slang means. I don't understand any of these random terms so please bear that in mind."

"You are one o' dem weirdos ain't ya?" Tristan raised an eyebrow. Natural of course. Zam's story wasn't entirely believable at first.

"I'm not a weirdo. I'm just simply not human," Zam tried to explain. "I have a human body and some human hormones but my brain, what really defines me is from an Alakazam. I don't have human instincts or anything that naturally comes to a human."

"So then you need a teacher?" Tristan grinned, rubbing his hands together. "You ain't gonna last in this city long if you don't know jack shit 'bout being human. What you need is someone with experience. Someone with exper' knowledge o' the ways of man."

"Yes, I suppose that could be useful," Zam nodded, "You wouldn't happen to know anybody for that job, would you?"

"Me you plonker!" Tristan laughed."I'm gonna teach you 'ow to be a bloke. Now grab one o' dem cigars, we got a lot to get frough."