A Pokémon Go! Tale
One man's journey to be the very best.
It all started in the kitchen.
I heard it, like a small whimper, emerging from somewhere near my sink.
After some investigation, I saw what looked like a week old lettuce sitting on my counter.
“Fuck. No. Not you.”
“Bulba!” The creature questioned hopefully.
“Damn it. No. Jog on, mate. I’m looking for Charmander,” I told him, and began searching through my kitchen cupboard.
“Bulba!” A little more desperately now.
“Look, buddy. It’s not personal. It’s just, well, it’s between a fire breathing dragon, a mecha tank tortoise, and you, a giant green fungus.” I checked inside the fridge. Nothing.
“Bulba…” The thing began to rub against my leg.
“Jesus. Okay, fine. You can follow me around. But I swear I’m releasing you into the wild as soon as I find a Scyther.”
“BULBA!” The creature bounced with excitement.
So my journey began. Donning my finest fedora and trenchcoat, I made my way for the nearest Pokéstop. A school. Perfect.
Being as discrete as I could, I began ninja rolling around the school playground, phone in hand. Nothing here. Wily prey was eluding me. No matter, I was just getting started.
Suddenly, a nearby man wearing a high visibility vest noticed me and turned off his lawnmower.
“Can I help you, mate? This is private property.”
“Can’t talk. I’m on the road to Viridian City,” I told him, putting on my all black shades and scanning the environment.
“Er, right. Welp, I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” the man said, reaching for his phone.
“No time. Wild Spearow!” I began to spin furiously. “It’s getting AWAY!”
The man began rapidly entering digits on his phone, watching me as if I’d just run over his dog. I rolled up my sleeves, revealing my fingerless leather gloves, and prepared to battle this civilian. Luckily, just then, I received a call from my accomplice.
“It’s time to hunt,” he told me.
“To protect the world from devastation,” I responded.
"We need to discover new lands. This place is full of rats and pidgeons” I told my accomplice.
“Pretty sure a dude at work drove to a cemetery today to look for Ghost Pokémon”, he replied.
“That’s ridiculous. Let’s go hit up a playground”.
We arrived, screaming children everywhere, playing. And us, two hooded, bearded men on a mission.
“There’s a gym nearby,” I declared. “I’m going for it.”
Using my extensive knowledge of parkour, I manoeuvred across the playground towards the gym. Several of the children’s parents starting to watch me. I heard one mutter “creep” faintly under her breath. Another said something about a “sex offender registry”.
“M’lady,” I started, staring at her. “The Pokédex is the only registry that matters.” I backflipped away.
Finally, I reached the gym, guarded by a Pidgey with 10 CP. I noticed a child nearby of 6 or 7, holding his phone and nervously looking around. The gym leader.
“Bro,” said my accomplice. “He’s just a kid…”
Ha. There would be no contest.
“He knew the risks when he joined the game,” I exclaimed.
I selected my Tentacruel, with 200 CP. It was over in seconds, the Pidgey left a bloody mess on the floor.
The child burst out in tears. I walked over to him, and whispered, softly, in his ear.
Our expedition led us to the foreshore, a surplus of Poliwags, Psyducks, and people in lycra. We ran around, phone in hand, searching for wild Pokémons.
I began to notice many other people doing the same thing, all members of the hunt. This was bigger than us, now. Halfway through a cartwheel, I discovered a wild egg under a bridge. I decided to name him Poachy, and began to care for Poachy as if he were my own son.
Our journey continued, and I considered taking over the world with an unstoppable Zubat army I painstakingly caught at "Public Restrooms South Perth". Suddenly, however, I accidentally locked eyes with another trainer.
Shit. He ran over to us, head-to-toe in fluro lycra and with a nametag that said "Brent".
“Bro. Are you catching Pokémon?” Jogger BRENT asked us.
“Of course. Are you?” I stared him down. I did not trust Jogger BRENT.
“Yeah man! And it’s all thanks to this.” He flashed a shiny object pinned to his shirt.
“A portable charger! Genius!” My respect for BRENT began to grow. He was no amateur.
“What team are you guys?” Jogger BRENT asked enthusiastically.
“Blue!” we replied.
BRENT’s smiled faded. He took a step back. Somewhere in the distance, a battle theme began to play.
“I’m… I’m yellow.” His eyes narrowed. “Guess we better part ways now, before things get ugly”.
“Yeah, BRENT, guess we better,” I was already reaching for my Pokéshiv. He was the enemy. I could not let him escape.
Just then, I was momentarily distracted by a vibration in my pocket. My egg! Poachy was hatching! I’ve waited for this moment for entire minutes.
The egg hatched, and what appeared to be a dead fish flopped out. Gingerly, I poked it with my boot. It began to seize violently.
“Karp! Karp! Magikarp!”
“This game is HORSESHIT,” I yelled, at no one in particular.