I awaken on a strange plain of existence. There is nothing as far as the eye can see except from a handsome silver fox standing on a spotlight. Am I dreaming? Is this some sexy romantic fantasy in which this man seduces me? Because I don’t think this is the right forum for me to be airing this kinda stuff.
I briefly wonder, does he remind me of my father? Then I recoil in disgust at the very suggestion. No. My father is a mysterious entity that may or may not exist, this man, is a distinguished slice of FINEAPPLE pie.

Hey good lookin', what you got cookin'.

He introduces himself as ‘OAK’. Is this what it feels like when I talk to people in block capitals? Do I gift them a scintillating blend of fear and arousal? I hope so. I know right here and now that by talking in all capital letters that he is a King in this realm of nothingness. Lower case for the lower class, after all.
OAK goes onto explain the mechanics of Pokémon, I mean, I already know this, who doesn’t know this? I mean my grandmother calls them ‘The Pokey Mans’ but she at least knows that you either fight them, collect them, or both. It’s pretty simple stuff and I nod in agreement, looking over OAK’s chiselled and experienced features with predatory eyes. He’s a professor, an academic and he asks to know more about me.
Sploosh.
Wait. Am I a boy or a girl? I blink. AM I A BOY? OR AM I A GIRL? CAN HE NOT TELL? I’m wounded for a moment, unaware that I was so blatantly androgynous and I rather gruffly tell him that yes, I am a girl.
A girl with a hat, and socks possibly longer than my skirt. Bold move, let’s see if it pays off, Cotton.

Whatever you want it to be, tiger.

I inform Professor OAK that my name is Louise, which is admittedly not in capital letters because I have not earned that right in this world, yet. Perhaps one day they will know me as LOUISE, The One True Lord, but for right now just Louise will do.
OAK ruins the mood by introducing me to his grandson, who has apparently been my rival since we were small children. I feel anger rising in my throat like hot bile, yes, my rival. A stone cold sociopath and the bane of my very existence. I mean, who wears purple trouser? Like, who does that? Who does he think he is?!


BUT REALLY, PURPLE TROUSERS?

Perhaps his sick view of society is distorted by the fact this OAK, his own flesh and blood doesn’t even remember his name but don’t worry, Professor, I do.
His name is Chaz.
Full name Chazlethorpe Broderick the IV. Rumour in Pallet Town said that his parents were terribly inbred, preferring to keep it all in the family, which would have explained their early deaths and prominent Hapsburg lips.
Suddenly I’m not so hot on Professor OAK, and likely given that I’m not a blood relative, he’s not so hot for me. Oh well, you win some, you lose some.
SUDDENLY I BEGIN TO SHRINK, THE BLUE NOTHINGNESS AROUND ME TURNING TO BLACK. IS THIS A NIGHTMARE? A FEVER DREAM? IS THIS THE DREADED K-HOLE THEY WARNED ME ABOUT BEFORE I TOOK THE KETAMINE?!
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Pallet Town
I come to in a bedroom, laying in front of a NES (Nintendo Entertainment System) which is strange, because I was born in ‘91 and had a Sega Megadrive (Genesis in the US). I don’t think this is really my life, or really my house.
Whatever, I sit and play some Double Dragon, might as well, it doesn’t seem like anybody is around to protest much. I can’t help feeling that I’m supposed to be doing something else, however.

Does exactly what it says on the tin.

Oh yeah, my Pokémon adventure! Gotta catch ‘em all! Or gotta catch a self-limited amount and not get attached to them or let them die ever! One of these is not as catchy.
I put down the NES controller and rummage through the bedroom, searching for anything I can use on my adventure. Hopefully some sweet swag that I can borrow and that I am totally planning to return one day. I check the PC, rummage through their group chats and find nothing but inane and mildly racist nonsense, people doing inappropriate things with catfish, this guy who is afraid of gravel and a man that once defecated on his own foot.
I’m not entirely sure how this world’s technology works, but I take a Potion out of the PC, not questioning how I even managed this feat. There’s not a 3D printer here. Perhaps asking questions in a Pokémon world is not wise.
Found 1x Potion!
There’s a woman downstairs, apparently she’s my mother or rather MOM. So, this is my own house, huh? Wait, so were those my friends on the computer? Oh no, I’ve made some poor life choices. Mother doesn’t have much of interest to say, apparently all girls dream of travelling? Is that a hint? Wow. That’s cold. Although she tells me that Professor OAK is looking for me.

Somebody had a little too much fun with the inner glow.

There are seriously mixed feelings about this. Like ten minutes ago I would have been all aboard the OAK train but I’m a new woman with new information.
I go next door to OAK’s laboratory aaaaand he’s not even there. Dude, don’t look for people and then suddenly be super sparse. It doesn’t make you more desirable, I figure that Professor OAK is the type of person to stay invisible on Skype whilst talking normally to everybody they usually talk to. Nobody cares, bro. Suddenly I’m even less attracted to him.
Peeking inside I can see Chaz standing up there inside the laboratory and I make a bee-line for the exit, I won’t willingly speak to that knob-rocket unless it’s absolutely necessary.
How can anybody call this a town?! There’s two houses and a one room laboratory! Nobody has a bathroom! Like, NOBODY! Where do we poop? The body of water south of the town? Who are these people that roam the town? Where do they live? It’s all too confusing and I stomp north, trying to leave this illogical hellscape.
I’m two steps from the tall grass and I hear a shout.
It’s Professor Oak! Where did he come from?! I LOOKED EVERYWHERE IN THIS GOD FORSAKEN PLACE! He runs up to me and tells me that it’s not safe to walk in the grass and that wild Pokémon are lurking there. Well duh, dude but where else could I have went? You weren’t here and I had nothing else going on.
He drags me to his Laboratory and over to where Chaz was waiting before, the inbred orphan starts chatting a mad game but I block him out, as I have done for the most of my life. Turns out that good old OAK is going to give me a Pokémon, so I can actually leave the cursed so called Pallet Town.


I'm not down with this family reunion.

There are three balls on the table, and I can only choose one. I look to the sky (or rather the roof) and ask the Aztec Gods which one I should choose. They offer no guidance and so I close my eyes and pick at random.
It’s Bulbasaur, and he’s mine! I call the little dude Budley before Chaz rushes over and picks the Charmander because...of course he does, that little wazzock lives his life on easy mode after all.
I received the Bulbasaur!

More like Brobasaur, amirite?
Statistic nerds dig this stuff.
This means absolutely nothing to you, doesn't it?
Super varied moveset, I know.

I assume we’re done here and start heading to leave, so I can start my very own Pokémon adventure and never look back on Pallet Town and its logical fallacies ever again. But it wasn’t to be so simple. Chaz shouts to me and comes stomping over, demanding a battle. Inwardly I snarl. I hate him and his guts but I’ll gladly leave his new Pokémon in a crippled heap on the floor.

Bring it on, you dirty commie lizard.

However since my Budley and his Charmander are so low-leveled they know rudimentary attacks and are essentially just bashing and scratching each other like a pair of plebs on bath salts. Tackle, Scratch, Tackle, Scratch, Tackle. This goes on until there is one victor…
...and her name is Louise.
Budley grew to Level 6!
Won 80 Pokémon Dollars!

You might have won if your trousers weren't PURPLE.

Chaz storms off after blaming his Pokémon and not himself, standard Chaz. We’ve been rivals for so long now and yet he still doesn’t understand that he’ll never best me. Well, furious inbreeding is known to cause serious mental defects after all.
Now my adventure can finally begin.
I slip out of OAK’s Lab and make my way to the north exit of Pallet Town, not even bothering to say goodbye to my mother. She was pretty insistent that I was going to leave home one day, after all. I’m a strong independent woman and I don’t need no goodbyes.

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Please forgive any errors in regarding spacing and disappearing words, the blog formatting is super-duper-uper broken. Thanks for reading!​