Author's Note: This is basically an answer to a question I asked myself a good number of times in my early game playing days. And, after re-reading Farla's "Unoriginality" (It's good. Read it.), I was inspired to write this. It's predictable. It's not that funny. It has no real point, and I'm not sure whether or not I'm imitating her work or this is just my thing. Really, that line between imitation and full blown copy blurred somewhere. But I don't think she's tackled this particular topic, so I'm in the clear for plagerism.
"We've restored your Pokemon to perfect health. We hope to see you again!"
Alex bit her lip. She gathered her pokeballs, then glanced behind her to make sure no one else was waiting. Finding the coast to be clear, she turned back to Nurse Joy. "Can I ask you a question?"
"Sure."
"Why do you people always say that?"
The nurse looked perplexed. "Say what?"
"'We hope to see you again!'" Alex mocked, her voice hitting a pitch generally reserved for mosqueetos and folks on heleium. "I mean, do you actually hope to see us and our battered pokemon again?"
"I'm sorry, I don't understa-"
"Basically, what you're telling us is that you hope our pokemon keep getting the shit beat out of them."
"No! No, we'd- I'd- never want that!" Nurse Joy hastily replied. "It's just, in training we're encouraged to be as polite as possible, and 'we hope to see you again' is just one of those polite phrases!"
"I don't think it's so polite." Alex interjected. "It sounds sadistic to me."
"It does?" the nurse sounded dismayed. "Oh, dear… I really am so sorry."
Alex shrugged. "Yeah… okay then." She then wandered back out the door, bearing her pokeballs with her.
Nurse Joy stood behind the counter, frowning to herself, trying to come up with some new, uninsulting phrase to bestow upon the battle worn trainers. It wasn't long before one came up to the desk. "Would you like us to heal your pokemon?" she said brightly.
The trainer nodded. Nurse joy placed the balls on the healing strip, pressed a button, and waited patiently for the music signaling the completion of its task. Returning the balls to their owner, she brightly said "There. We have restored your pokemon to perfect health! May you never ever come here again!"
The trainer stared at her in disbelief. "Why the hell would you say that?"
Her smile dropped. "I'm sorry. I- I-."
With a humph of disapproval, the trainer gathered his pokeballs and marched out of the automatic doors.
