"Hey! You were looking at me, weren't you? Now you have to fight!"

I eyed the small child warily. My first impulse, of, course, was to backslap him into oblivion. But, you know. Small child.

"Nah," I said, keeping my voice soothing and level. I kept walking away, but the child threw his pokeball at my feet before I could react.

It was a Caterpie. Level 4. It curled its body to peer at me.

What.

Wait. What?

"I'll let you take your pokemon back," I said. "Seriously, I'll let it go. My pokemon could beat yours on accident."

"I like shorts! They're comfy and easy to wear!" The child smiled maniacally. The Caterpie cocked it's bulby head to one side and flopped around on the grass.

"That's... interesting, but irrelevant. This isn't a battle you want, kid. The experience my pokemon will get will not justify the PTSD I'll give that Caterpie. Just put it back in the pokeball and I'll walk away."

"Hey! You can't jam out if you're a pokemon trainer."

I stared.

I thought, As you sow, so shall you reap.

I sent out my level 37 Raichu and I went to work.

Raichu created a pocket dimension consisting of nothing but pain and terror, and then exiled that Caterpie there. He called down the artillery of the heavens, thunder bolts the width of a fat man's torso, upon that poor bug. In the split second between the lightning's impact and the Caterpie fainting, he body slammed it hard enough that I felt the earth shake a little under my feet. In the few seconds before the kid could recall his shattered pokemon, Raichu zapped the Caterpie with another barrage of thunder shocks.

The bug was closer to liquid than solid by the time the kid got it back.

And then he threw out another ball.

Weedle. Level 4.

"Are you frigging joking?"

"My Caterpie is hot stuff!"

"No! No it bloody isn't! Your Caterpie is a small puddle of guts and fuzz! Do your pokemon owe you money or something?"

"Pokemon battle! let's go!"

The child is out of his little mind.

I recalled Raichu and sent out my level 34 Machoke.

I tried counting the flurry of low kicks and karate chops that Machoke rained on the bug, but I lost track around 46 and hadn't the heart. I didn't know pokemon anatomy too well, but I was fairly sure that any bones that Weedle had were reduced to the past tense.

"There. We're done. You outgunned and we both know it. Can I leave now?"

"I choose you! Caterpie!"

"Gaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!"

I had to end this. I had to send a message. I had to cause such a holocaust of pain and terror that any further fighting would be unthinkable. I had to make a friend of horror... the horror...

I sent out the Big One. Level 38 Charizard.

I ordered him to make that Caterpie suffer. It broke my heart, but I knew that the bug's involuntary sacrifice would save other pokemon suffering in the long run. This child must learn not to pick fights in the big league.

The flames from this fight rose high enough to be seen for miles around, and the heat turned all my skin that wasn't covered a deep, lobster red. Had I wished, I could have ordered Charizard to send a smoke signal to the world upon that Caterpie's inert body, saying, Let not the weak and stupid fight the strong.


"Wow, great battle!"

"I hate your guts."

"You really have a close relationship with your pokemon!"

"You stole my innocence... the horror..."

"See you around."

"...don't you even dare."