Pika! Pika-pi! Pikachu! Haha, I’m just fucking with you. You wanted this interview right? Yeah, about living in a pokeball. Well, what do you want to know? How it feels to be in a Pokeball? Well, first of all, it’s my house. I live there, I shit there, I sleep there, yeah, I shit in it. Don’t you know we’re living creatures too? I eat, therefore I poop. Simple biology. My walls are decorated with drawings of what I think of my family to be. When I was caught — yes, an evil man named Professor Oak captured me just outside Pallet Town. I was out enjoying a walk with my father, Pikachu. My father, with years of experience ahead of me, sensed danger and told me to run, I didn’t realize what was going on until it was too late. I found myself in a dark room, but it wasn’t cold. Not cold, not hot. There’s a switch that you press to turn the light on. It comes furnished. Thankfully, all you need to do is charge the goddamn things at a Poke Center for a second or two and you’re good to go until the next visit.
Char-char! Oh, fine, I’ll cut the crap. Pikachu told you, didn’t he? Surprise, we can all speak human. About my humble abode…. My house is two levels — I never turn the switch on, though. I conserve energy. I use candles that I made myself from wax I fashioned from killing Beedrills. I’m very apt at killing them. They’re pretty weak against fire. Isn’t that a surprise? Arts and crafts are my specialty. I pass my time with knitting. Care to see my quilt? It’s a map of Kanto. Pretty neat, huh?
Let’s be frank here. A pokeball is roughly 4.3 inches in diameter, giving us approximately 14.61 square inches for me, a 7’3″ creature. How does the math work? How the fuck does it work? Let me fucking tell you — it sucks. I’m crammed into this tiny ass apartment. Yeah, Pikachu is a fuckin’ diva. I bang my head every time I want to get a snack out of the fridge. Were they even considering my size when they built this shit? Fuck, man, I don’t know how Gyarados does it. That fucker doesn’t even have hands.
I’m a ghost. Simply put, I can pass through material objects at will. But I can’t do it with a Pokeball. Why? I have no idea. I’m a ghost. I have no brain. How can I convey myself through language? Well, I’m using the energy of your life force to communicate through your brain. My words are your words, your words are your own, but I know what you are saying without you even saying them. Crazy, huh? I’ll tell you about my home — yes, I know, you didn’t even ask…yet. My living situation is currently a vast empty space filled with nothing but the damned nightmares that I haven taken from my dream-eating abilities. You wouldn’t believe the dreams that Dittos have. It’s some kinky-ass shit, let me tell you.
MYHOUSEISFILLEDWITHWATER! I’MSOHAPPYWHEREIAM! LOOKATMEIAMSHIVERINGWITHEXCITEMENT! ICAN’TWAITTOGETHOME! I’MSUCHAHAPPYHORSEA, ILOVETOPLAYJOKESONMYSELF! PLEASE, WAIT, DON’TGOWHEREAREYOUGOING! IHAVESOMUCHTOTELLYOUABOUTMYPLACE! MYBEDISMADEOFCORAL, DON’TYOUWANTTOTRYIT? PLEASE!
You have got to be shitting me. Really? A pokeball-like creature in a Pokeball? It’s kind of a mindfuck isn’t it? Who’s great fucking idea was it to make me look like a Pokeball? This is why I’m so mad. I’m so mad right now, I can just — ARGH! Did I shock you? Oh gosh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to, I’m just angry all the time because people like you made me look like this. Don’t you know that the game programmers trick players into thinking I’m an item so they would disturb my sleep, wake me up and forcibly put me into a battle? Most of them don’t even run away, they fight me. What the hell did I do? Yeah, yeah, right, about my room…. It sucks, I’ll tell you that. Whoever designed it was some mean jokester. I live in the basement, so when I come home, there’s stairs. Yeah, you heard that right. Stairs, going down, so I have to roll down the fucking steps. Do you know how much that hurts? I’m volatile enough as it is. Some fucking place I have. I can’t even roll up the goddamn stairs if I want to go grocery shopping. That Dragonite has some nerve talking about bumping his head to get food. Imagine not being able to go out to get food at all.