Animal cruelty

Downstairs looks pretty much like the upstairs. Lots of brown and no decoration, eugh.

What. Who are you? I don't want this old cell phone. This is from what, 2000? Why are you giving me this?

“Just choose a name you want to call! This is the most advanced and exciting thing ever! In fact, I am going to strip naked and sacrifice a goat out of my primal fear for this new-fangled machine!”

I may be paraphrasing slightly, but she really does find it amazing that this ancient cell phone stores numbers. I guess, considering its age, I am too.

Her shenanigans are tiring. I want to leave.

Screw you, rules of time and space! And you too, light. I see you giving me the stink eye. I'm warping out of here and I don't care what colors get assigned to new wavelengths. I also don't care who that other woman is. I'm going places.

Oh. I suppose that may have just been a visual effect meant to represent my passing through a door.

~*The More You Know!*~

I guess I must be part of some kind of pioneer podunk populace, which is the type of settlement I hate almost as much as I hate alliteration.

...I'm leaving.

Bye, town. You never meant a damn thing to me.

Wellp.

Oh well, I can stay local until Ms. Crankypants crawls back into the pungent abyss from whence she came.

You look... Familiar. Like one day I asked you what you were doing creeping behind this building and you kicked me so hard I flew backwards, and then I developed a depraved obsession for you. Well not this time, mister! I know your tricks!

But you do smell... nice.

Here I am, to save the day!

Actually, no, I'm not. Please explain why I've been expected here.

Absolutely not.

A Pokémon? Is that a new breed of dog? I do love puppies... I'm a bit suspicious of “caught”, however. Stealing other people's puppies is very rude.

He tells me to pick one of three contained in those balls on the table. Those poor darlings, trapped in such a confined space! Disgusting. I'd take them all if this voice inside my head wasn't telling me, “Better not get greedy!” Ugh.

I guess I'll check out what my options are.

A potato with an overbite and a leaf growing out of its brain... A stubby mole that somebody lit on fire... And a cheeky dancing caiman. Well. Uhh. Eenie, meenie, minie...

You. The burning rodent. You are mine now.

It's apparently called a “Cyndaquil”, which reminds me of Cindy, who is a woman that I have never seen being on fire. She does have red hair, though. What a small world we live in.

Eating death and looking suave. Though, as I do not live in a universe where this name and its associations with evil wizards exist, I'm not sure how I know that. I'm just silly! But it's a good name anyways.

A number that I will never call out of desire, nor pity. Basically, I'm never calling this guy. He's just too pushy. In fact, he's telling me to scoot along and get to Mr. Pokémon's house ASAP. This does give me an excuse to leave the town, if only for a short bit. Ms. Crankypants can sit and crank all she wants – I have an errand to run!

LIKE A BOSS.

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NEXT TIME, ON DRAGON BALL Z:

The most horrible things happen. Prepare your corneas for a sound lashing, because it's about to get heinous up in here!