worktodo | 001 | New Bark Town

[Good morning, Johto! Today, for your viewing pleasure, we have...what appears to be the rather dark and damp interior of a Poochyena's mouth, complete with glistening teeth and a tiny smear of drool at the edge of the camera feed. Not a very decent view, but that's okay, because there's plenty of audio to make up for that — and it seems we've tuned in right in the middle of some rather belligerent ranting...]

—ow what kind of game you're playing here, lady, but I have neither the time nor the patience to stand around while some overzealous kitchen marm tries to stuff me full of animal crackers and ship me off to elementary school. I want to know who you are, I want to know where I am, and most importantly I want to know how the hell you got me here to this godforsaken boondocks in the first place. I have plenty of work to do, and I do not have time for your inane prattle. Just give me some answers so I can be on my way.

[There is some background chatter here, which careful listeners may recognize as Mom's standard speech.]

Listen, June Cleaver, I'll make this very clear: I could not care less about these Puggymans you insist on rambling continuously about. The question is simple: where the hell am I?

[More background chatter! Are we sensing a trend?]

Hn. Forget it.

[Footsteps begin to tap across the linoleum, and in response, the camera begins to shake; evidently, the owner of those teeth is trotting over to give her own greeting to this rather angry newcomer to Johto. And it appears, when the footsteps pause, that he's just noticed her.]

What do you want?

[More shaking of the camera, and then suddenly there is bright light and a whole lot of twisting and rotating as the man apparently takes the Gear out of the dog's mouth and turns it over in his hand, twisting it every which way and tapping it as he inspects it. People who get motion sickness, this is really not the video for you.]

...what is this, a toy or some kind of Star Trek — HELLO.

[And hopefully no one had their volume turned up on their gear, because the man holding it is using his Outside Voice as he addresses the microphone that is apparently about three inches away from his face at the moment.]

I DON'T SUPPOSE YOU'VE GOT SOME ANSWERS FOR ME, MR. SCOTT?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Oh, even better. Now I'm out of a job, too.

_{[Henry falls silent for a long moment as he turns that over in his head.]}

Are you a coroner?

I'm a forensic pathologist. Does that answer your question, or do I need to break it down into bite-size words for you?

_{[This earns Albert a frown. How threatening.]}

Well, I guess you better start flipping burgers or something, because nobody here needs that.

You're telling me everybody in this burg is so downright saintly that nobody murders anybody else. Ever.

Really.

Well...I'm sure somebody could break your legs and tie you to a bed or something...but what I mean is, I don't think you can die. My friend had her soul taken...but she got better.

Specific.

[Henry, have you been thinking about how to murder people lately or what.]

Don't tell me this place is rife with supernatural mumbo-jumbo too.

_{[The photographer gives Albert a tired, long-suffering look.]}

There's ghosts...ghost pokemon. Same thing...which does'nt make any sense because you'd need to die first to be a ghost...but the game was for kids. It wasn't supposed to make sense.

Okay, here's an idea, how about we try following a coherent line of thought when explaining things from now on. What about ghosts?

_{[Henry frowns. He just can't come up with an answer to satisfy this guy!]}

Ghost-type pokemon. The little monsters here are split up into types like fire, grass, electric...ghost is one of them.

[Well, what do you know, maybe the shut-in's good for something after all. No point in wasting a potentially viable line of questioning; he turns the video on his Gear to face his Poochyena, who is still sitting pleasantly at his feet.]

And this is one of them. What type is this? Other than "dog", I've got that much on my own.

That? Uh...I don't actually know anyone who has one of those. But you can use the thing we're talking on to see what kind it is. It can tell you a lot, like how old it is, if it's sick, if it's a boy or a girl...stuff like that.

_{[He wonders if there really is a 'dog type'. It wouldn't surprise him. There was Dragon type, which had always, always bugged him.]}

Yeah, thanks, I can figure that out by looking at it. Got anything a little more useful?

[Use the thing they're talking on? What kind of Star Trek gizmo is this?]

...Find a good pair of walking shoes because there's no cars.

So they can hand out doohickeys like these like it's Christmas, but somehow nobody thought to invent the combustion engine?

I think I saw a bus...once. But you either gotta hoof it or get a pokemon big enough to carry you.

Yeah, I've heard about Dragon Air. Where are you supposed to pick up something that big?

Usually the little ones turn into bigger ones after they beat the snot out of enough other little ones.

Survival of the fittest, huh? Charming.

Yup. The people here even call it Evolution.

Evolution is a process that takes thousands of years. So either the people here are nitwits, or there's some kind of acceleration going on: which is it?

It happens fast in this world--like in a flash of light.

Like a flash of light. Okay, and then what?

Well...then you have a bigger pokemon. Pokemon gains enough levels, glows, gets bigger, bam. New Pokemon.

_{[This has been Pokemon 101 with Professor Townshend!]}

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