I stand tall
My trainer yells, shouts
I stare defiantly
His face is red
I stay calm
He grabs my neck
Strangles, then throws me
I land on my feet
He kicks
Once, twice
All the while screaming
I make no noise
He pulls out the whip
Crack! Crack! Crack!
Marks appear where fur has torn
Warm blood pours from rendered flesh
Bathing me in red betrayal
I hold my ground
He glares, still furious, still embarrassed
Yet he does it again
Out comes the device
He presses the buttons
It rings, but soon someone, somewhere, answers
"My Rattata is the top percentage of Rattata."