Actually its just the regular kind of rain. The one that boasts the side-effect of making one wet. But its also time to do laundry which also means its time for…
Well, it’s been a while since the last battle wherein I beat seven shades of shit out of Brock. A quick reconnoiter about his town finds it dull and Pokemon obsessed so its time to move onto greener pastures and bend more Pokemon to my will. Also to find new trainers to humiliate.
Turns out I don’t have far to look as I have to run a fucking gauntlet of every Tom, Dick and Harry who thinks just because they can trap a helpless creature in a tiny ball means they’re serious competition.
For those interested in skipping ahead, they’re not.
For those content to take the long way around, my first opponent approaches me and throws down the following challenge:
“I like shorts because they’re comfortable and cool to wear!”
Now normally this would be an excuse to once again utter a Double-You Tee Eff, but for anyone who doesn’t know me, I don’t wear shorts. Haven’t worn shorts since the last time I went swimming and by the way, the last time I went swimming was around this time last year. I wear TROUSERS and if this little shit wants to tear down my slacks then he’s in for a shock!
Oh… Oh dear…
Anyway, prepared to defend the honour of my pants, I see what he has to offer. Something called a Kakuna, which looks vaguely insect-like and thusly repulsive. Also squishes like an insect under the might of Whatever! Second is its little brother called a Weedle and while it sounds less harmless what they don’t tell you is the spike on its head dripping in poison!!! And how it tries to jab this dripping poison spike into every-fucking-thing that moves. Or how it just likes to lie around with its poison-spike poking up into the sky while it waits for a foot to descend upon it as it lurks in the tall grass. It’s fortunate that beating the ever-loving crap out of Pokemon pays well as I quickly administer an antidote, then quickly administer a beat-down. Looks like he came up short!
After tipping the little bastard upside-down and shaking him until he no longer jingled, I ventured off 90 bucks richer. And it wasn’t long that my favourite creepy money-train made a reappearance. That’s right…
Bug Catcher: “Hey, I remember fighting you in the Viridian Forest!”*
Me: “Really, cause all I recall is giving some dude in a straw hat and net a spanking around about five times”
And here comes number six!
Bringing out his usual “winning” team of Catterpie and Metapod, Bug Catcher tastes bitter defeat and vows to fight me again. Which, as usual, doesn’t turn out to be far away. But that has to wait as I suddenly I’m beset upon by a lass named Lass:
Lass: “Hey, don’t you look at me!”
Me: “Lady, I don’t know if you’ve noticed but there’s only four directions I can look in this world and you’re taking up one quarter of them.”
Lass: “…Are you calling me fat!?”
Fortunately I avoid a slap and instead settle her weight insecurities with Pokemon. Which turns out to be not only definitive but also profitable as I take down another Catterpie and this time a JigglyPuff. This time its Gandhi that answers the call to battle and the spoils of war is sweet as I get a level 13 Pidgey as a result.
A little further down the path, Bug Catcher catches up, just in time for me to take more of his money. I am interested to note that he has upped his game with some pretty high level Pokemon. Level 11 and level13, just two levels below mine. This turns out to be to my advantage as higher Pokemon yield higher experience and I walk away with Taserbait and Whatever! at Level 16. Then something odd happens.
A quick videoclip shows Whatever! thrashing about like he’s having a coniption. At first, I’m worried. Has the little guy taken one too many tackles, scratches and gusts to the head? Despite his name, I find I’ve grown attached to the little guy and certainly wouldn’t want to repeat the grinding of another Nidoran to get him to fighting speed. Not to mention coming up with another nickname. In this case, it turns out not to be concussion but rather evolution as Nidoran grows into Nidorina. Or Nidorama as I like to call him. I’ve yet to see what benefits this yields. Perhaps gills or an opposable thumb.
Putting Whatever!’s possible mutation aside, I continue to run the gauntlet and spot a girl on the horizon. Remembering the last embarrasing encounter, I look away but not quickly enough. She hurries over and:
Lass: I saw the way you looked at me…”
Me: For God’s sake, lady can’t a guy just go for one walk without landing himself in a sexual harassment suit?!”
Lass: “…It was intriguing.”
Me: “Wha? What, Oh? Ohhhhh!”
Alright! Now we’re talking business. Not one day out of town in my quest to be a man and it looks like I”m gonna be one by lunch!
Lass: “You know what we should do?”
Me: “Oh I have some ideas…”
Lass: We should fight Pokemon. Together!”
Me: “…And that wasn’t even one of them”
Hoping against hope this is either a euphemism, or foreplay, I’m shot down with a large case of blue-pokeballs. The good news is that I win. The better news is I get paid for it, though now I feel cheap and dirty.
It’s about this time my laundry finishes and so I leave the game with two level 16’s and a level 14 Pokemon and yet feeling strangely unfulfilled.
*Further proof that they’re all the same guy.