The Pocket Monster Diaries, Part 6

Dear PokeDiary,

Call me crazy, but I was under the impression that evolution is, in general, a beneficial process. Organisms such as Pokemon evolve in order to be better suited to their environment and increase their chances of survival by making it easier to find food, avoid predators, etc. So, say you’ve got a Caterpie. They’re pretty small, and they don’t have any arms, but their coloration helps them blend in with leaves and foliage, so that’s a plus. Also, their little stubby foot-nubs can cling to most surfaces, and they can shoot sticky string to entangle their enemies, which is also pretty helpful. Not the toughest or scariest Pokemon in the world, but it’s something I can work with. But wait! Just then, Old Man Evolution decides to come along and reward all my hard work and training by taking away its legs. Gee, thanks a lot Old Man Evolution, thanks for removing my Caterpie’s only means of locomotion. I really appreciate it. I’m so glad we fought all those Rattatas now.

P.S. You’re a DOUCHE

Finally! It's about time that-wait what the HELL is this thing


I really didn’t know what to do at that point. Should I continue JitterBug’s training? How? Could this thing even fight? I didn’t want to hurt JitterBug’s feelings, but I also didn’t want her to get killed if I sent her into battle with this rather ungainly looking body. It was tough to get a read on how she felt about this, especially since her new form came equipped with a thousand yard stare.

How about this one, eh JitterBug? This Grass type doesn't look too tough...oh. That's because it's just a shrub. A normal-ass shrub.

So there I was, wandering around on Route 22, trying to find an opponent that wouldn’t slaughter JitterBug immediately.I still had no idea how she could actually win a battle, but just then I would have settled for “not dying instantaneously.”

However, I ended up getting a lot more than I bargained for.

This guy again.

For a brief, shining moment, I hoped that he wouldn’t want to battle. He stood there. I stood there. I decided to try walking past him like nothing was wrong. G’yorp’s brain was tiny and, probably, walnut shaped. Like an Iguanodon. Perhaps this plan would work after all! I tipped my trainer’s cap to him as I strolled past casually. “Evening…uh, G’yorp.” His Bulbasaur stared at me impassively. He also seemed to have acquired a rather hyperactive Pidgey that was flapping around his head in circles. He allowed me to pass him without incident. I was just thinking that my ruse had worked when his Pidgey dive bombed me in the kidney.

Since the last time we met, he does not seem to have...bathed. At all.

I spun around and dropped the Pokeball in front of me as I collapsed to the ground like a punctured balloon animal. “Mr Suds…I want you…to hurt…that BIRD!” I wheezed, still trying to get my wind back.

What followed was a long and heated battle. Probably. I spent most of it looking at the hearts, stars, horseshoes, etc. that were swirling in front of my vision as a result of the renal punishment I had recently received. By the time the errant celestial bodies/marshmallows had cleared from my field of view, Mr. Suds looked like he had taken quite a few knocks, but the Pidgey was clearly down for the count.

According to that rather sad excuse for a school they have back in town, Flying types are not weak to Water. They do seem to be weak to Mr. Suds, however.

As the Pidgey sank into a deep, brain-damage-induced slumber, G’yorp used a series of wild hand gestures and nonverbal grunts to urge his Bulbasaur to take its place in battle. I recalled my Squirtle and sent out the only other member of my team who currently possessed the gift of limbs. “Mr. Suds, take five. Chuckles…you know what to do,” I coughed as I rolled over onto my side, kneading at my lower back like a retiree suffering from lumbar distress. I made a mental note never to turn my back on another trainer or his Pokemon ever again, unless I was also running as quickly as possible in the opposite direction.

Chuckles and Bulbasaur faced off with one another. I could tell Chuckles was already getting super-pumped about this fight. He charged in using the new low-kick he had just learned.

What?! You can't be resistant to karate! Karate works on EVERYTHING!

Well, that was rather disappointing. Perhaps I didn’t spend enough time in the Pokemon school after all. On the other hand, I also know how to calculate a 15% tip in my head, so you can suck it, PokeNerds. I may not know exactly which types are weak to Fighting, but at least I’m not weak to basic arithmetic.

Back to Chuckles. “Okay, well, your kicks aren’t working so why don’t you just…scratch the hell out of him!” I hardly needed to say anything before Chuckles set to. The blows came fast and merciless from both combatants, neither one letting the other get the upper han…um, extremity. These low-level Pokemon battles were a strange affair, indeed. For all the mountain-destroying power I’m sure these creatures will one day possess, most of the fights I had seen so far looked suspiciously like a pair of pissed-off animals beating the everloving tar out of each other.

Yes!! Rake him with your furious digits!


And that was it. I had won my first trainer battle. It happened so fast, and I spent most of it on the ground gasping for air, but that didn’t matter. I had beaten G’yorp. It was a glorious day.

Farewell, my pungent companion. Perhaps it is I who will smell YOU later. Unfortunately.

As he carried off his unconscious team members, I realized that I had just beaten someone who successfully defeated a gym leader. I strode limped off towards the PokeCenter with a new sense of purpose. That settled it. I would travel through the Viridian Forest, go to Pewter City, and challenge the leader of the Pewter Gym.

But first, I had to find a way to expand JitterBug’s skill set beyond “Remaining immobile for extended periods of time”, “hardening” and “staring directly into your soul with huge, unblinking eyes.” If only because it was really starting to creep me the hell out.


About toastybiggins

This guy? He's alright.

Posted on July 22, 2011, in The Pocket Monster Diaries and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 1 Comment.

  1. keep these coming!

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