Ah yes. Gold and Silver. In my opinion the BEST games in the series. Not until Black and White did I keep up with a Pokemon release like this. I memorized the Japanese names to the point to where I only started to learn all of the English ones when HeartGold/SoulSilver came out (which are the best Pokemon games to ever come out, period). I even had a bootleg strategy guide for the Japanese version and bought the very first issue of Pocket Games just to see all of the new 100. We all remember the first episode of Pokemon, where Ash sees a mysterious golden Legendary flying through the skies over a rainbow. That was our first glimpse at a Gen II Pokemon; the legendary Ho-Oh. Now, I know in recent years, people have tried to claim that all Ash saw was a Shiny Fearow and even one of the movies said that it was really just Mew (who decides to be a dick and just Transform into other Pokemon to screw with peoples heads), but the moment we found out that Ho-Oh was a REAL Pokemon, we realized that there was another Pokemon game on the way. In fact, once Togepi, Snubble, and Marril (the ever elusive “Pikablu” you tried to get by trading a Lvl 100 Pikachu to the dude in the Pewter City Gym) were revealed, it was like Heaven had opened. One of the best things about even the anime’s opening was that it surmised the whole feeling of Gold and Silver in one line “It’s a whole new place with a brand new attitude, but you still gotta catch ‘em all, and be the best that you can be!”

Now, I can go on and on about how much I love Gen II, but I need to talk about my first starter and my favorites of this, the most amazing of all Generations, Gen II.

My Starter: Hinoarashi/Cyndaquil

The last of the non Fire/Fighting Fire starters; the only Fire Starter with just pure Fire, no additives; the lean, mean, exploding Fire Mouse machine himself, and the only Jotho starter that I even considered having until my Nuzlocke run of original Gold: my main man Cyndaquil. Out of all of the starters that I’ve had, Cyndaquil was the only one that felt like I really did raise from a little pet to a mountain of ever-exploding fury. I’ve never had a Cyndaquil that I didn’t give it’s Japanese name to. In fact, in SoulSilver (which I got because I originally had Silver as a kid), my Cyndaquil turned out to be a girl (which is rare as fuck to happen), so I still gave her the Japanese name as a nickname, but combined it with something feminine (Hinoarashe, Megmarashi, and Beckphoon). I loved the fire on this thing’s back so much that I was actually mad at the show when it revealed that the fire can actually be turned off. Also, nothing can replace Typhlosion in my heart after my Beckphoon took out Red’s Charizard at Level 58. And that’s without EV Training, folks. Just pure adrenaline and love.

Otachi/Sentret

As surprising as it may be, I love the Rattata of Gold/Silver. Why? To be honest, I have absolutely no clue. I remember seeing this guy for the first time as a Pokemon card in a sneak peak segment in a card game magazine (it may have been Inquest, but I’m not sure; it was a friend of mine’s copy). For whatever reason, I warmed up to the little guy. Maybe it has something to do with my love of rabbits and raccoons (you don’t grow up watching Bugs Bunny and playing Super Mario 3 without growing to like these critters). Maybe it’s the fact that flying squirrels are fucking kick-ass. Who knows. I just love this little guy. Also, the fact that it’s evolution was one of the Pokemon with an unsettling Pokedex entry (no one knows where it’s body ends and it’s tail begins) might add to my fav factor.

Denryu/Ampharos

Is it a Giraffe? NOPE. Not at all. Ampharos is actually a hairless sheep standing on two legs. Quite possibly one of the weirdest explanations of what a Pokemon is suppose to be (at least up til the dumb shit that comprises the 3rd Generation come along) and that’s what makes me love him. That and the fact that he’s one of the coolest Electric-Types in the game. Ampharos’ first form, Marrip, was shown in the same magazine that I saw Sentret in. I thought the idea of an electric sheep was silly enough to keep one on my team, so I kept him all the way through til he became an Ampharos. My current Ampharos is a mean mothafucker that I ALWAYS keep in my team, and has the honour of being apart of not only my Elite Four team, but my Red Battling team. If I remember correctly, he has the noted distinction of taking out 3 of Red’s Pokepals.

Blacky/Umbreon

You read right. The Japanese name for Eevee’s night time Evolution is, in fact, Blacky. Now, until I found this out again, I had said that his Japanese name was YanYan. Now, the reason I most likely thought this is one of two reasons. Remember the Bootleg guide that I got? If I’m remembering correctly, the guy who wrote it had an Umbreon on his team and he referred to it as YanYan, very barely touching on the original name. Conversely, in that original issue of Pocket Gamer, it could have listed the name as YanYan to keep the whole “Blacky thing from being in print… Either way I love Umbreon the most out of EVERY SINGLE EEVEELUTION. Seeing as I wouldn’t get to play Silver til I got home from school, Umbreon became a very obvious choice for my Eevee to evolve into. Something about the fact that I was a black cat/black fox monster was also DARN COOL. Also, for tradition’s sake, all of my Umbreon have the nickname of YanYan.

Doble/Smeargle

An art student’s best friend. Smeargle is one of those Gimmick Pokemon that only people who play te game to enjoy playing the game use. I’m one of those people. Never hard up on trying to pump my Pokemon full of vitamins and EV stats, I focus more on making a team that I would want to have in real life. As such, Smeargle, the artist Pokemon, is a no-brainer. Also, the potential of this little dude is amazing. A Smeargle could technically learn all of the secret moves of any Pokemon. Because of that, I could have a Roar of Time, Spacial Rend, Shadow Force, and Judgement on a single Smeargle, making it the God of Smeargle. Smeargod as it were. Besides, LOOK AT THAT FUCKING BERET.

Bangirus/Tyranitar

The main man, the king of kaiju, the Godzilla of the Pokemon, the biggest, baddest bruiser who’s ever existed. Weighing in at 445.3lbs, towering like a motherfucker, 6’07″: TYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYRANITAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAR. The ultimate proof that you were willing to raise a killing machine back in the days of Gold and Silver. Based on the legendary Tarasque (which, in its DnD incarnation, can never truly be killed and will just sleep in the heart of the Earth until it awaken  and a Japanese name coming from a combination of HATE and GODZILLA, Tyranitar is one motherfucker that’s to be feared and respected. I never managed to raise one in the original Gold/Silver, but in HeartGold/SoulSilver, I had to raise one  to have back up for the Elite Four. Her wrath is fucking phenomenal and just walking onto the battlefield is enough to scare lesser Pokebros. Another reason why I love this Pokemon? It’s a fucking T-Rex. What’s not to love?

Next time is (in my opinion) the worst Pokemon generation: Ruby and Sapphire.

One of the greatest mysteries of all time is why Boba Fett of all people got to be transformed into the Galaxy’s biggest bad-ass.

If you watch the movies, he doesn’t do jack shit, aside from ONE FUCKING THING:

He’s the only one to consider that the Millenium Falcon could have been hiding on the side of a Star Destroyer when they disappered from the radar.

THAT’S.

IT.

The other time’s, he’s just… there. Or whining to Vader about not getting his money.

You can turn the Super Mario Bros. movie into something that looks incredibly faithful to the games, but still have nearly the exact same dialogue.

Make King Koopa and all the people in “Dinohattan” look like they do in the games: highly evolved dinosaurs would look like Koopa Troopas.

Instead of it being the Mushroom Kingdom, call it SarasaLand, (which is were Daisy is from in the games anyway)

Make Lena into Wendy Koopa, Spike into Lemmy Koopa, and have Iggy, Wendy, and Lemmy be referred to as Koopa’s Kids.

Make all the “Goombas” either Super Big Goombas, Buzzy Beetles, and/or Dry Bones

Change Big Bertha into a BoomBoom (but still technically be a big black woman)

Those jumpy shoes are now Kuribo’s Boots.

Name Mario’s girlfriend Pauline.

Have baby Daisy not come out of an egg, but out of a ?Block at the beginning.

Make Scapelli into Foreman Spike from Wrecking Crew, with his cronies being Wario and Waluigi.

Have Scapelli turn into Donkey Kong when hit with the de-evo ray.

Koopa turns into Giga Bowser when he’s hit by the de-evo ray

Yoshi is baby sized

Flamethrowers are Fire Flowers

Have Toad (yeah, he was in the movie) look like Toad

I’m not a market analyst, nor am I marketing major. However, I’m pretty sure that if something has a fanbase, it has a dedicated stream of income. And the more beloved that particular something is, it has guaranteed profits. It’s agreed that Final Fantasy XIII and ET the Extraterrestrial for the Atari 2600 are colossal piles of shit, but they were also huge sources of revenue.

Why?

Because of the fanbases. Final Fantasy fans pre-ordered it like crazy, because (and this may come as a shock to you) it was a new Final Fantasy game. ET sold like hotcakes because (holy shit, you’ll never guess it) it was the video game of a very popular movie. Yes, as soon as people played them, they were out and out appalled, but not before they shelled out big bucks to get them. I constantly heard people whining about Nintendo games and how they aren’t Halo FPSs; how fanboys need to stop liking them so they can be completely changed or discontinued. Yet, so how, fans magically don’t have an effect on something when they get mad about being denied a promise? You can’t say that game companies pander to fan whims one minute and then say that no company cares about what they say. The fans are the ones buying the games. We’ve entered into an age of “If you don’t have this game, why are you even playing games” to the point to where we’ve forgotten that only the people who like a certain thing are the consumers of said thing.

Only Sonic fans buy Sonic games

Only Dragon Quest fans buy Dragon Quest

Only Disgaea fans buy Disgaea games

Only Megaman fans buy Megaman games

So on and so forth. In these cases, fan = customer. I don’t expect an FPS fan to buy Person 2 PSP when it comes out. I’d expect the very specialized number of Persona fans to buy it. Why do you thing Atlus made Devil Summoner 2 have a limited release in the states? All in all, a company should indeed listen to it’s fans when those fans are the primary source of income from that particular product.

And as far as the “they don’t owe you anything” line goes, would that work with anything else? Superbowl’s cancelled, because the NFL doesn’t owe you anything. Toyota and Nissan pull out of the states and don’t sell their cars, because they don’t owe you anything. Peter Jackson cancels production of the Hobbit, because he and his film company don’t owe you anything. The last Harry Potter movie doesn’t come out because Warner Bros doesn’t owe you anything. A video game company releases info about a game that’s been waited for for 10 years, allowing the fanbase to put in more content than any game in the series and then cancels it because they don’t owe us anything. That’s the stupidest reasoning that I’ve ever heard. If there were real reasons, that’s fine, but “We don’t owe you anything” is the dumbest excuse for cancelling a product.

But then, it all comes down to them being a company that really does care more about the money than the product. Considered the following: Capcom would never cancel Street Fighter, because it makes them too much bank. Megaman, whilst making bank, doesn’t make as much as Street Fighter, so who cares if that series is shelved.

Think of it like this: Capcom is McDonalds, Street Fighter is the Big Mac, and MegaMan is the Fillet-O-Fish. You’d never discontinue the Big Mac, but if you discontinued the Filet-O-Fish, sure you’d get backlash, but who cares? Look at all the money you’re making with the Big Mac, the McDouble (which is a Big Mac with less bread and lettuce) and the Big N Tasty (essentially a revamped Big Mac); they’ll just have to wait until we feel like bringing it back.

Capcom: Once a company that listened to the fans, now, just another company.

I’ve had a Master to go with my Doctor and I hadn’t realized it til now.

Say hello to Shade the Changing Man.

Originally created by Steve Ditko (The guy who helped make Spider-Man and one of my favorite heroes, The Question), Shade was originally just a guy from a parallel dimension who had a crazy M-Vest that made people think he had become some ultra crazy monster version of himself to fight the people who wanted him dead. Eventually, DC’s vertigo line got their hands on him and re-wrote his story to where he came from his home dimension to stop the madness of humanity from consuming the Earth. The M-Vest could now actually warp reality by taking hold of madness itself. Unfortunately, the only way for him to be able to stay on the planet is to occupy the body of a dead person. He ended up have 5 different forms during the 70 issue run, one of which was a woman. Did I mention that each of these forms had different personalities? And that he has companions? And at one point they all got a time machine to travel around in to fix stuff? And was even written by a British guy?

Just like a particular well know adventuring Time Lord, now; doesn’t it?

Hell, his third form even looks like a cross between the 9th and 11th Doctors. But, since he has so damn much in common with the Doctor, it would seem like cheating in rewriting my story to where Shade is the Doctor character (plus, I’m more partial to Mark and the Magic Only world I’ve made). So, instead, I’ve decided to make Shade more of an antagonistic character, trying to get the better of Merlin and his unlikely crew. A Master to Merlin’s Doctor. Especially since The Master’s own regeneration colours were pretty psychedelic; much like Shade’s Vertigo-era M-Vest

Shade would still come from another dimension, but this dimension is just a pocket within Earth 32. Merlin would have met Shade there whilst exploring the multiverse before adding any companions to his adventures. Shade accidentally becomes aware of the fact that his M-Vest (which have a combination of both of it’s functions) doesn’t work on Merlin, due to the former’s run-in with the Mobius Chair having made him Super Sane (driven so mad that he’s sane again). Fascinated and terrified, he vows to inhabit Merlin’s body so he, too can gain nigh-infinite knowledge of everything. This of course would mean killing Merlin, who escapes Shade’s dimension. Not taking kindly to this, Shade finds a body to inhabit on Earth and plots to kill Merlin whenever the chance permits itself.

Of course, I’d have him act in mirror of his Vertigo selves while on Earth, with his original Ditko version not only being his actual form, but act in the criminal way that everyone in the original comic thought that he was.

One of him tells would be the line that his first Earth body during the Vertigo-Era said “I’m not mad. I get mad, but I’m not mad.”

Perhaps I should just go ahead and write this story out, eh?

Kyoji here, posting a story written by an anonymous wordsmith on 4chan’s /co/ board. I take no credit for this story, and will even post the picture that he did to open up his thread that featured this 16 post story. The only thing I’ve added was the title.

This is for all you Hey Arnold fans out there.

It’s amazing how much can change in ten years. One minute you are eleven years old, most liked kid in Mr. Simmons fourth grade class at P.S. 118. You help save the last remaining tree in your neighborhood from being destroyed. You clean up a vacant lot so you and your friends don’t have to play baseball in the streets. You get stuck downtown with your best friend dressed like fruits. You help the strange kid in your neighborhood leave his stoop. You help the crazy ice cream man realize he can do whatever he wants. You meet your favorite baseball player Mickey Kaline. Your only real worries are avoiding the school bully and losing your favorite blue hat. Next minute, you are engaged to a girl who used to call you football head just to tease and make fun of you.

The Sunset Arms Boarding House is emptied quickly after Elementary School. The Kokoshkas, that is Suzie and Oskar, they divorced and went their separate ways about the time I was in 6th grade. Suzie went on to be a teacher, Oscar ended up becoming the owner of a moderately popular website that sells all sorts of gags and gifts. Last you hear of him, he still does his work lazily and half-assed, just like he did when he lived a few doors down from you. Ernie Potts ended up severely injured on a worksite and became paralyzed from the waist down. After winning a huge lawsuit against the demolition company he worked for, he was able to afford his own house somewhere on a lake. After I was able to find his daughter on Christmas that year, Mr. Hyunh helped to put her through school and get a college degree. Apparently, he had been saving all of his earnings for something, but he didn’t know what to spend it on. After she finished her degree, the both traveled back to Vietnam to visit their homeland before returning and opening a business.

Grandma died when I was 15. Grandpa was devastated at his loss, and he wasn’t really the same afterwards without her. She was a big part of his life, as well as mine. He was the last remaining border in the house, and told me time after time that I will inherit the Boarding House when he passed away. I wasn’t sure what I would do with the old place when he passed, but I don’t know if we would have enough boarders to keep it open. He lived a very long and fulfilling life. The day he died was gravely hard for me. I tried to give a memorial speech for him at his Wake, but found myself unable to do so. This happened earlier this year.

The faces around town sure have changed as well. Harvey the Postman is now the Head Manager at the Post Office for our district. We don’t see him on routes anymore; instead we have a grumpy old man who doesn’t like to mingle whose name is unknown to me. Mr. Simmons is no longer a teacher; instead he is the school counselor, and he makes it his mission to help students out of any crisis they may find themselves in. Mrs. Vitello, the flower shop owner, passed away earlier last year after having a stroke.

Gerald was accepted into a major university somewhere out of state. We keep in contact, but only the occasional text message or weekly email update or facebook status change. Sid and Stinky were contracted into doing a show for a local channel, which aired for about 3 seasons. Everyone loved it, and now they are producing more television shows rather then star in them. Eugene ended up winning the lottery, ironically enough. The unluckiest kid in school became one of the luckiest people alive. He is living off his winnings happily with a girl he met at community college. Most of the other kids from class, Brainy, Phoebe, Curly, Lorenzo, Lila etc, well, they either moved away or lost contact with me. I still see Herald about town every now and then, seems he is getting ready to buy Mr. Green’s Meat Shop and continue work as a butcher.

Then there is Helga. Well, her story is pretty sad. Helga and I started our relationship over in high school. In about the 6th grade, out of nowhere she stopped with the relentless name calling and bullying. I noticed a drastic change in her about this time, and did not know what had caused it. It wasn’t a gradual change either, but something had completely shifted seemingly overnight. Shortly after, her father was convicted for some sort of felony involving his failing company Big Bob’s Beepers and sent to prison for many years. I don’t remember what it was exactly, but Helga’s mother and her moved to a different part of town and she was pulled from the PS 118 school system.

High school came and in 9th Grade we were placed in the same Public School System again. She was back in our district and was different…. extremely different. Her once pretentious attitude was diminished. Her boisterous voice was weak. She was sad, melancholy if you will, and seemed depressed all the time. Her appearance, vastly different from what I remembered, was also uncharacteristically askew. She no longer kept her hair up, but rather down and untidy. She dressed in clothes that seemed too big and dirty. Her general appearance was that of extreme poverty. The only time she seemed to show even the slightest sign of life was when I was present. When she would see me, her face would light up for a split second, and I saw the Helga I remembered from elementary school. Something inside me did a flip-flop when this would happen. I realized that I had missed her during the years she had been absent.

My senior year I asked Helga to Prom. She said yes. That night is still very vivid to me. When I picked her up, I was amazed at the state of her house. The place was filled with garbage, no tidiness as I had perceived Helga from her younger days to live in. The whole atmosphere of her home was that of uncaring and gave a general feeling of disgust. Her mother did not seem to notice or care that she was leaving, or that I was even taking her to a Prom. I guess a normal mother would be radiant, taking pictures, absorbing the feeling. Even though her house was a terrible mess, when she came down that staircase, she looked stunning, as if she had sold everything to rent her beautiful dress. Donned in a tight fitting blue smock, glittering with shines of light blue, her image would be engrained to me until even this day. The night was filled with dancing, good times, and ended with a kiss I will not ever forget. Something came back to life in her that night. She did not want to go home, so I didn’t take her back. That evening, we sat up on the roof of the Boarding House and watched as the sun rose over the city.

After High School graduation was about the time she moved into the Boarding House with me. Grandpa had his own room, and I had my attic room still, slightly modified from my Elementary Days of course. After seeing the vast change in her persona from Prom, I knew something about me completed her. When she moved in with me, she brought very little, but did not want to retrieve anything else. A small car full was all that she had ready, mostly clothes and other small knickknacks. Helping her move out of her mother’s apartment was depressing. All her mother did was sit on the couch, smoke cigarettes, and stare emptily at the television set. Few short words were exchanged, and Helga informed her mother that she was moving out, from which she did not receive an encouraging response. After she was settled into my room, she told me her whole story.

She started in fourth grade, how she had obsessed over me, loved me from the day she met me. She kept my picture in a gold frame on her at all times, hidden from anyone else to see. She sometimes made small idols of me. She wanted me more then anything, but couldn’t find the strength to tell me, for fear of rejection. She instead turned that desire into teasing, the only route she knew to utilize. Her home life was terrible. She lived in a constant shadow of her older sister Olga, the perfect daughter in her mother and father’s eyes. She told me how she was constantly reminded of her older sister’s success, and how she was never given any credit for any good thing she ever accomplished, simply because it wasn’t good enough. Her mother was ditzy, and her father was controlling.

When she turned 14, the sexual abuse from her father began. Big Bob Pataki was a deviant, and hated the fact that he had a second unwanted daughter. After Helga was born, he forced his wife to have a female vasectomy of sorts, called a tubal ligation, so that another unwanted child was impossible. When his wife told him that she did not crave sex anymore, he decided instead to turn on Helga. She told me how she always knew he hated her existence, but was stern in the fact that it was just a tedious idea concocted out of jealousy for her sister, but when he started the abuse on her, it became clear that she was right in her horrible ideals.

She said it lasted for two years, up until he was charged with Fraud and Avoidance of Federal Funds from the IRS. She recounted about how he would do terrible things to her at night, when her mother was asleep. If she fought, she would be punished physically. He was sentenced to 30-50. After her father was sentenced and placed in prison, she tried to consult her mother about the things that had been happening. She never did before her father went to prison, simply out of fear of what would happen. Sadly, even though she tried to find comfort in her mother, she was only met with a heartbreaking disappointment. At her telling me this, I could see her eyes well up with tears. Her mother did not care about the happenings with her father, and she even speculated that it was her mother who recommended her father abuse her. She said that she felt her mother had also grown to hate her daughter. She told me that those two years were suppressed in darkness. She stated that she couldn’t remember the details if she wanted to. All she knew was that she went from being perfectly happy to wishing for death each and every night. The tears became too much, and started to roll. Then she started to cry.

She lay sobbing in my arms for a good 3 hours. All those years of wondering what was missing, why Helga had left, where she was and if she was doing okay, I discovered this horrible truth. She sobbed and sobbed, crying out years of pain and anguish. All this time she had nobody to console, nobody to talk to, nobody to be a friend when she needed it most. All the time I could only hold her head on my shoulder, stroke her arm and tell her everything was okay. I told her that things were going to get better. She stopped for a second, whispered to me “I know. I have you now. Everything I have ever wanted is right here, in you.” She then lay her head back down on my arm, and promptly fell asleep.

It’s amazing how much can change in ten years.

As she slept peacefully on my arm, I wiped the remaining tears from her eyes. I kissed her on the forehead and let her rest. I began to close my eyes in the emotional strain of things. I heard too much, I felt too terrible. I just wanted to get some sleep. Thoughts and feelings of radical natures plagued me. I was devastated, angry, torn, completely paining for my dear Helga. The horrors she had endured are too much for any one person to have to deal with in one lifetime. I decided it would be best to sleep. Just before I drifted into unconsciousness, I heard her whisper “I love you so much…football head.”

Helga is better now. Any and all sorrow she had that night was cried away, and drifted into nothingness. She is happy, happier then she has ever been in her entire life. Always I knew there was something odd about her. She always seemed too keen to go out of her way to antagonize me. Looking back at it now, I realize it was her way of asking for some attention. I love her equally to what she loves me, more then anything I have ever loved in my entire life. I asked her to marry me about 4 months ago, and she said yes. In due time, we will be newlyweds.

Thinking back, its humorous to me now. I used to dread sometimes going to class for fear of what mean things Helga would do to me. Now, I can’t stand to be away from her. I lay here now thinking about life before she found her way back to me, and can’t remember anything. Is this a testament to the idea that a man isn’t truly complete until he finds his soul mate? Has Helga always been the person I was destined to be with? I like to think that she is.

It’s amazing how much can change in ten years.

Ah, Pokemon. The big daddy of the Monster Battling genre. So big that people forget that it wasn’t the original video game to introduce the concept of catching monsters and training them to fight other monsters. Nevertheless, it did what Dragon Quest V did not; it turned this concept into it’s own unique sub genre of the Role Playing Game.

Now, the Fifth Generation of Pokemon games have been officially released in the United States. It’s been close to 13 years since I first played Pokemon Blue and in that time, I’ve had innumerable memories of the one Nintendo super franchise that rivals Mario in name recognition. I got Blue for my 11th birthday, but got to play it before I turned 11, meaning that I indeed started my Pokemon journey at 10 years old. And for those of you who know your Pokemon, you’d understand why that’s such an important memory for me.

One of the hallmarks of why Pokemon is so popular is that everyone can have their own favorite Pokemon (especially now, as the count is now up to 649 individual Pokemon), allowing a child to have a favorite Pokemon to train and befriend in the same manner that they did as Ash did with his Pikachu. Of course, I’m no exception and with each generation, I’ve had my favorites. As a follower of the old traditions of “With enough training, any Pokemon can beat any other Pokemon” and “Always use your favorites; Pokemon are your friends, not weapons”, I always use my favorites and never purposely EV train. This may get my Poke-dudes asses kicked by the legion of EV-Train ONLY people out there, but the trade off is knowing that I use my Pokemon because I enjoy them and not because they can mathematically outperform other Pokemon. As such, here’s the first of the list of my Top 5 Favorites from each Generation, plus my first Starter from each.

Generation 1 – Red, Blue, Yellow, Green

The originals. The glory days of Pokemon. The days of there only being 151 Pokemon. These were the times of Pokemon in it’s purest and rawest. As such, most people feel like, if the new Pokemon are too dissimilar to the original 151, they’re TERRIBLE. This was also the heyday of liking Pokemon because you thought they were cool, as apposed to today, we’re you have to like them for stats and the moves you can force them to have.

My Starter: Squirtle

I love turtles and I love this guy. Unlike the relationship between Ash and his Squirtle (Parole Officer and Ex-Con), me and my Squirtle were bros. Even though my starter in FireRed was Charmander, Squirtle is my A1 favorite starter of all-time. As embarrassing as it is to admit, I was one of those kids who got Squirtle because Blastoise was on the cover of Blue… But, thankfully, I was able to bro it up with my Squirtle. Favorite moment? Paying back Giovanni’s Kangaskhan in Silph Tower with my Blastoise for nearly taking out my team in the Rocket Hideout.

Now on to my 5 favorites of this Generation.

Meowth. And not because of the show, either. I love cats and this motherfucker provided me with money after I became King of Kanto (i.e. beat all the other Trainers). Hilariously, in the early days of the franchise, they didn’t make that many toys in America, so a huge chunk of the toys were the Japanese ones just repackaged or just straight up imported (my mall’s EB Games was full of imported Japanese Pokemon toys). Unfortunately, I got the American packaged Talking Meowth. When I activated it, it wasn’t the Brooklyn accented Meowth that I was use to. I was the screeching Japanese version. Do you know know how scary it is to get a Meowth that would just scream all of this?

Farfetch’d. I really liked this guy. Even though he was an in-game only trade Pokemon, he was fun to use and just plain funny. I wasn’t until FireRed when I got to use my very own, personally owned Farfetch’d. And for whatever reason, this guy was a MONSTER in battle. Fun fact: Farfetch’d is based after an Asian saying about something being as odd as “a duck walking with a leek”, or (to Americanize that for you), something as far-fetched as a cow carrying a bottle of A1 Steak Sauce. If you still haven’t gotten the joke; it’s weird for a duck to be walking around with what you would cook it with. Incidentally, Farfetch’d are indeed eaten en-mass in the Pokemon world.

Hypno; the non-Alakazam Psychic Pokemon. Often ignored by most people in favour of the more popular Alakazam, I was guilty of ignoring this guy until he proved to be a heavy hitter. My Hypno turned out to be perfect for catching Snorlax by himself. Because of that, he’s a pretty unexpected opponent to go up against. And if my Seismic Toss knowing Pikachu is any indication, I really like having Pokemon that are more than means the eye.

Starting a trend of Pokemon with morbid backgrounds, Cubone is odd in the fact that one single incident defined their entire race. The Cubone in Lavender Town is the only one that’s really wearing the skull of it’s deceased mother. It’s mother was killed and it wore it’s mother’s skull to keep her close. How this carried over to the other Cubone everywhere is beyond me. Still though, this pint-sized pugilist is a powerhouse in his own right. He also shares that generic monster body that alot of Pokemon have. And, according to some theorists, Cubones are actually baby Kangaskhans.

This crazy lighting monster was one of my favorites right from when I first saw him in the anime, even though I couldn’t get him in Blue. He seemed like a cooler version of Pikachu; a real electric monster that could put the hurt on anyone he chose. I love both him and his Baby form, but goddamn if I don’t hate his evolved form from the 4th Gen. Hilariously, it wasn’t until his debut episode that I found out that Scyther was a real Pokemon. I had gotten the KFC collectible cards of Pokemon, and found the Scyther one. I was pissed, because I thought that they had thrown in a fake Pokemon.

Tomorrow will be the best Generation ever: Gold and Silver.

So, I remember writing something about how I felt about how the gang in Scooby Doo got together: Freddy and Velma realize that they both like mysteries and invite Freddy’s girlfriend, pot supplier, and the pot supplier’s dog (Daphny, Shaggy, and Scooby respectfully) to break into a house to solve a mystery. Well, my good friend, Sam brought up one day that he believed that Courage the Cowardly Dog is set after the awakening of Cthulhu, hince the insanity of the world and why no-one seems to notice.

So, I’ve decided to run with this idea.

Years ago, Eustice, Muriel, and Horst (Eustice’s cool adventurer older brother that gets mentioned a few times in the show) were all occult detectives in their youth. Unfortunately for them, they were alive when this guy decided to wake up.

Cthulhu’s awaking spreads mass chaos and madness into the land, causing Eustice, Muriel, and Horst to try and stop it from spreading wherever they could. Eventually, they get pushed back to Nowhere, Kansas. Nowhere happens to be an epicenter of Cthulhu worship and the trio get stuck trying to save the townsfolk from the corruption. Unfortunately, the Nowhere cultists were the one’s who had originally succeeded in awaking Cthulhu and the trio’s efforts to thwart them had accutally helped hasten his awakening. Soon the Elder God corrupts humanity and the trio becomes a duo, as Horst dies saving Eustice and Muriel from being killed by the various abhorent monstrosities shambling upon the earth. Grief-striken over the death of Horst and their failure to keep mankind from being destroied by Chtulhu, the couple deciede to let death take them by settling down in Nowhere and waiting for the enivitable. However, there is one of the Outer Gods who decides to “reward” them for reawaking their high priest.

The malevolent Creeping Choas himself decides to not grant their wish for a long time, allowing them to grow old, unmolested on their barren farmland. He even taunts them of their failures by making the television they have play nothing but perversions of the world that use to exist (hence, whenever you see something other that the news on their tv, it’s always a live-action man in cartoonish situations) For decades, they wait for a death that doesn’t come, and being to shameful to commit suicide, they soon fall into a state of perverted normalcy. They would live their lives as if there weren’t terrifying horrors from beyond time and angled space roaming the land. However, as they reached their old age, they decide to let the sins of the earth do what they will; should some madness rip at them, they will allow it to. This underlying death wish gives old Nyarl an idea, and he creates a portion of himself into a creature of irony.

Courage. A cowardly, pink, male dog capible of sentient speech and action, not to mention shape shifting, and near-supernatural resistance to harm. Courage is an aspect of Nyarlathotep, given by “fate’s” hand to the Bagges, so that the terrors of dead Earth could find them and torture them. However, so long as Courage was there to thwart the evil, the Bagges would never know death. Even if corrupted into abhorent forms themselves, they return to how they’ve always been. Their obliviousness to the insanity of their world is just a coping mechanism wrapped in a death wish. Courage is their unwitting jailer in a hell of corrupt damnation, even though parts of him know what he really is and what he was made to do.

Now, go and rewatch Courage the Cowardly Dog. You’ll forever see it in a different light.

Now, just as a disclaimer: I don’t thing that all military people are like this. In my opinion there are 3 things that service men/women protect that make them heroes: Their Country and it’s people, their family, and their own freedom (which is part of the reason that our main character is so damn disgusting).

In a small Iraqi village, an American soldier stands in front of the freshly slain corpse of an Iraqi man.

“Bitch,” the soldier snorts, “Never mess with the U.S. of A.” The man’s wife and son stand near the body, horrified at what has just happened. The son, with hatred filled tears, picks up a small stone and slings it at the soldier, screaming at him. The soldier turns to the boy and shots him in the head.

“Back off you terrorist sonnava’ bitch.” The soldier snorts. The woman grabs her son’s dead body and pulls it to her chest. She turns to the soldier and screams at him in anger and grief. The soldier puts a bullet through her head. As her body slumps over the soldier hears a burst of raucous laughter coming from behind him. The soldier whips himself and his gun around, only to be met by the grin of a pale skinned young man. He is dressed in a ruffled white button-up shirt and dirty brown jeans. He is bare-foot and has messy grayish-black hair. Protruding out of his back are two dusty gray wings.

“Oh, that was just classic!” the mysterious man laughs, “ I knew it was a good idea to teach you dumb apes how to off each other!” The soldier is very confused. Is he some gag-journalist from back home? The soldier eyes the man very carefully, keeping a distance.

“Who are you?” the soldier asks, “What’s your name and where are you from?” The man’s laughter dies down and he stares back at the soldier, with his piercing black eyes.

“Well, the Hebrews referred to me as the Scapegoat; I was a Grigori, or a Watcher, in your tongue,” the man says, “I slept with the Daughters of Man and fathered some of your mythology’s greatest heroes. I was physically bound by Raphael, but I can still send my spirit to and fro. I am neither a part of the Court of Heaven nor the Legions of Hell. My name means ‘The Strong One of God’, but the closest you can pronounce it is ‘Azazel’.” The soldier stares blankly at the man. The man sighs and flaps the wings on his back a few times.

“I’m an angel,” the man says, “Well, in reality, I’m a fallen angel.” The soldier drops his gun in disbelief. Azazel disappears and reappears near the corpses.

“I was the one who taught mankind how to use weapons on each other, and I taught womankind to use cosmetics.” Azazel says, as he pokes at the woman. “Women use my gifts much better.” The soldier just sits down, very confused. “I love all of these senseless wars that you stupid humans start for no reason. You give the Big Guy Upstairs so much grief! It’s so great!” Once again Azazel bursts into raucous laughter; chilling the soldier to his bones. “Well,” Azazel giggles, “I’ll see you later, Soldier Man. Do your ‘duty’ and kill up some more innocent people for me with that gun of yours!” In an instant, the Grigori disappears, chuckling to himself. Gathering himself and his gun, the soldier walks away from the three corpses.

“‘Innocent People’?” the soldier murmurs to himself, “These aren’t innocent people, they’re nothing but damn terrorists and they all need to be killed.” After a few drinks, the soldier picks up a young Iraqi woman and takes her to a hotel. As he prepares to have sex with her, she pleads to be on top, that way, she can see all of him. As the soldier lays back so she can mount him, he woman pulls a knife out of her pile of clothing. The soldier panics, but he is unable to get the handgun he has hidden in a dresser drawer nearby.

“How could you do such a thing?!” she screams, “How could you kill my family?!” The soldier smiles smugly at the young woman.

“You hafta’ be more specific,” he snorts, “I’ve killed a load of you dirty sand niggers!” The woman shrieks at the top of her lungs, holding the knife high over her head with the blade pointed towards his chest.

“You killed my parents and brother! Father, he tell you that gun attract trouble; that you can’t walk with a gun in daylight outside. He tell you to put gun away, but you shoot him! YOU KILLED THEM AND I’LL KILL YOU, TOO!!” She thrusts the knife down, but she stops inches away from his skin. Then, in her native tongue, she cries. “Oh, Allah, please have mercy. I was clouded with anger and nearly took the life of another. Please forgive me.” As tears roll down her face, the soldier pulls the gun out of the dresser drawer and shoots the woman in her head and heart. She buckles over, but then falls backwards off of the bed. The soldier raises, triumphantly grinning as he sees her body lying on the ground.

“I’ll tell you what I told your daddy, you stupid whore!” he snorts, “Bitch, never mess with the U.S. of…” However, as he gloats, the soldier trips on the bed sheets that were hanging off of the bed and falls on top of the woman’s dead body. A sharp pain shoots out to every inch of his body, starting in his heart and racing into each and every cell of his being. He looks down at his chest and sees the knife the woman had, jutting out of his ribcage. It was still clenched in her hands, now stricken with sudden rigor mortis. He feels all of his life seeping out of his body and being replaced with a deep, dark coldness. As the world around him loses it’s color and turns to darkness, he hears Azazel’s voice:

“Ha! I told you that women use my gifts better than you men!” The soldier stretches out his arm, more out of anger than desperation, but Azazel’s giggling voice begins to fade away. “Well, I gotta run before they get here and think that I had something to do with this tragedy.” Then, the world goes completely black. After what seemed like an eternity, the soldier wakes up. He sees two angels sitting next to the woman, who is now sitting up.

“You have shown great faith to the Almighty Allah, therefore, you may enter His Kingdom,” the two angels sing. The woman sheds tears of joy as she thanks them.

“Do not think Nakir and Munkar,” a mysterious voice sings out. “It was your own faith in Allah that saved your soul.” The voice belongs to a third angel who walks forward from behind the woman. The angel is female and is strikingly beautiful, yet has a deeply unsettling aura of fear around her. Her wings are black as night, and seem to be dripping blood.

“Who are you people?” the soldier abruptly asks, haven risen to his feet. “Are you all Grigori Angels, like Azazel?” The female angel shoots a fierce look at the soldier; so fierce that it knocks him down onto the floor.

“I am Azriel, Angel of Death,” she fumes, “To be considered as one of those trouble making fallen ones makes my soul fill with deep and bitter rage; rage like you’ve never seen, nor a rage that has ever be seen within these times.” The angel turns her attention back to the woman and tends to her needs.
“Wait a second,” the soldier shouts, “Why aren’t you talkin’ to me, too? I mean, are the Angel of Death.” Trying to keep her patience, Azriel turns back towards the soldier.

“I am an Angel of Death,” she replies, “There is no single Angel of Death. Such a being would be near omnipotent. If you were Muslim, I would be tending to you as well, but your Angel of Death is right behind you.” Shocked, the soldier turns around and comes face to face with the only visage that he has ever feared. Standing before him is a cloaked, skeletal figure, clothed in black and grasping a huge scythe. It is the Grim Reaper, except that he has the wings that Azriel possesses jutting from his back, unfurled and running with blood.

“Your time upon this plane of existence has come to a close,” the Reaper announces, darkly, “It is time that you be addressed of your life and your final destiny.” As the Reaper slides closer to the soldier, he notices Azriel and the woman. The two Angels of Death’s dispositions saddened.

“Hello, Reaper.” Azriel sighs, “We shouldn’t be meeting like this.”
“I agree,” the Reaper says, “This pointless battle is sending those with promising destinies to dismal fates.” As the angels discuss the sad current state of affairs in the human world, the soldier struts over to the woman, who is still sitting on the ground,

“Well, well, well.” The soldier spits, boastfully, “Looks like you’re going to Hell, you soulless animal. Only us Christians get into Heaven; seeing as we’re the only people who worship the real God.” Before she could part her lips to answer, Azriel appears in front of her.

“You foolish, spiteful man!” Azriel shouts, “Your ‘God’ and ‘Allah’ are two names of the same Being!” The soldier was shocked.

“But, we don’t call Him Allah, so He can’t be the same!” he shouts.

The Reaper appears in front of the soldier with his empty sockets, now, glowing with flaming rage. “All three of the Holy Texts: The Bible, the Koran, and the Torah obviously state this, yet you are so clouded in dogma and self-service, that your heart can not see that The Almighty is not just threefold as The Father, The Son, and The Holy Spirit, but also Yahweh, Jehovah, and Allah.” The soldier stares back and utters ‘Bullshit, total bullshit.” The Reaper shifts to the soldier’s back and places the blade of the scythe around this neck and after proclaiming the soldier’s true, full name, addresses him thusly:

“Your manifold sins upon this plane of existence have been many and sinister. You have never begged The Almighty for any forgiveness in your life, and when you did pray, it was for selfish ‘needs’. You killed innocent people under the name of a mere flag, claiming what you believed to be justice in its name. Your greatest sin was horrifically committed on this day when you killed, no, SLAUGHTERED a man, his wife, and their only son, all innocent. Then, when the daughter of this family sought revenge, and then, showed you mercy, after all you had done, you murdered her. For this alone, you shall be greatly punished; but in addition to it, you will suffer for all of your deep sins. Thus, I send thee to the abode of the Damned, by this act and your actions, I now reap your soul.”

The Reaper slashes the soldier, who erupts into flames, screaming and begging to the Name of God to forgive him, before he fades away. The Reaper then turns to Azriel and the woman.

“Luckily for you, your path has lead you to the Almighty’s Kingdom. Now, I must bid you farewell.” The Reapers flaps his wigs and flies toward the west. Azriel takes the hand of the woman and leads her to her great and final reward.