Conversations During Digimon

A true story, by volta arovet

My father and I are witty ones. We both excel at "Wildeian" dialogue and our "War of the Puns" is legendary. People often (well, sometimes (okay, once or twice)) ask me if I am as clever in real life as my descriptions of dialogues are in the written world. My answer: in a word, yes. So I felt that my real life conversations about Digimon could be a good substitute for real fanfic, plus it would require much less effort on my part.

It was a beautiful summer afternoon. The sky was clear, the breeze was soft and inviting. I finally fully understood what the word "balmy" meant. So, of course, I was spending most of that beautiful day sitting inside, watching tv or playing on my computer.

It was four twenty-nine, and I was sprawled across the couch in my usual fashion: three or four pillows under my head, one foot propped up on the other, smaller couch, the other dangling down the side. My left arm lay draped across the pillows and my right arm held the remote, poised to alter the television's settings at a moment's notice.

Four thirty clicked about, announced by the chiming of the ancient grandfather clock in the adjacent room. It was also announced by the showing of a delicious strand of Japanese anime. The opener had one of the kids talk about what had happened the show before—Demidevimon had tried to get TK and Tai to eat the 'shrooms of forgetfulness, the diabolical little sucker. As always, they had escaped by the skin of their nose.

Then came the theme song. Ugh, the theme song. This was the point where my father entered the room. He looked at the screen. He looked at me. He looked at the screen again. "No A-Team today?" he asked. My father is the most observant of fellows. I usually watched the A-Team from four til five. Something told him, however, that the A-Team usually wasn't a cartoon show. As I said, he is rather observant.

"No, it's not the A-Team. Its timeslot got switched by the evils-that-be at TV Land and I have to figure out when it's on again," I explained.

"Oh. So what is this?"

On screen, the television sang to me. "Digimon, digital monsters, digimon are the champions!"

I motioned towards the screen. "That's your first hint."

My father took this in stride. "Is this that show you were watching the other day, the one where all the names end in 'mon'?" My father had made it a point to walk through the den every fifteen minutes or so while I was watching the digi-marathon. He would then make some snide remark or other. I was thankful when he left to go play tennis with his friends—I wouldn't have to put up with his sarcastic comments while I sat and watched another two hours worth of the mind-candy.

I nodded. "If you took away all the words that end in 'mon' or begin with 'digi' and remove all the stock scenes, the show would probably be fifteen minutes long, not half an hour," I said. Remember, I say such things affectionately.

Besides, the show was beginning. It was… Weregarurumon's Diner. Score! As a consummate Joe and Gomamon fan, I had been looking forward to seeing this one for the first time.

But, what was this? My father was sitting down on the other couch. On top of my left foot, to be more specific. "If you say so, Digi-couch-potato-mon." He opened up his newspaper and began to read.

I drank in the mind-candy with pure abandon. Cartoons are one of my few releases from the adult world. Unfortunately, the choice of subject matter in the day's episode was not helpful to me. Joe was working in a diner. "That reminds me," my dad said. "Weren't you supposed to apply for a job as a waitress in one of those restaurants? Was it Friendly's you picked up the application for?"

"I'll get around for it," I hedged. I felt that if I put off applying for a job long enough, maybe my parents would let me off the hook and let me enjoy my last summer with my friends.

"If you say so," my father grumbled, shaking his newspaper noisily. I never knew that a newspaper could make so much noise! It was as if he had attached amplifiers to the thing. Every time he turned the page, I couldn't hear what was going on with the show.

It was commercial time. I was all set to change the channel, howling my usual "Death to Commercials!" scream, but something caught my eye. The commercial on the screen was for a bank account. I was forced to laugh.

"What are you giggling about?" my father asked. I would have thought that by now he would be used to my usual random outbursts of laughter.

"I just think it's funny that they're advertising a bank during a children's cartoon show. Who in their target audience would need a new bank account?"

"You need an out-of-state bank account," my father pointed out. "You're watching the show."

"But the show is aimed at people a little younger than I am. Who do they hope to reach?"

"People like you," my father said, teasing gently. "I'm sure there's a whole group of people just like you watching children's cartoon shows, ya nerd."

"No denying," I said, laughing. It was our usual joke. "Takes one to know one," I added. After all, I wasn't the one with the stash of Original Star Trek novels. He nodded sagely. He remained mercifully silent until the stock footage of Gabumon, Gomamon, and I think also Agumon digivolving. I was forced to roll my eyes, and noticed that my father was doing the same.

"Why do you watch this anyway?" he asked.

"Because it's fun!" I replied. "Besides, this show is able to take more lateral moves than most. The characters are allowed to grow, and they can have angst and baggage and such. What other show can have monsters blowing each other up and also have a character go through an existential crisis during the same episode?" I asked. (For those who don't know, Tai and Sora somewhat went through a minor existential crisis during the arc of the story where they find out they're just computer bytes) He didn't seem to have an answer for that rhetorical question, although it didn't seem like he thought too hard about it.

I pointed to the screen. "Look! One of the characters is currently in the process of sacrificing himself in order to save the others. The other one is plagued with self-doubt and is currently going through the process of rediscovering what his priorities and values are."

At that point, however, Matt was busy thinking about what his true power is and what the crest of friendship really means. Several people's heads were floating past in his memory. I couldn't resist a crack. "Hey baby, are your feet tired, because you've been running through my mind all day?" I actually got my dad to laugh at it.

My father seemed to reevaluate what I had said. "Well, maybe you've got something there." I knew it couldn't last. After all, another set of stock footage was playing as Garurumon digivolved again. I rolled my eyes. Dad rolled his eyes. Even though it was done in semi-impressive CGI work, I knew we were back to square one of re-teaching my father.

It didn't matter much. The next section was incredibly cheesy, of course. Most battle scenes usually are. I will admit to bouncing my head in beat with that dreaded "Hey, Digimon" song, and unless my eyes were playing tricks, I saw my dad nodding along as well.

The episode finally came to a conclusion, freezing the last image in place. The magic-voice announcer asked "Will the digimon and digidestined be able to reunite?" or something along those lines. I put on my most campy, vampy voice and breathed in a deep tone of voice, "What do you think?" before turning the television off. It was my usual tradition to say that whenever the television ended a show with a cliffhanger question.

My dad shook his head. "I still don't understand what you see in that show."

I winked at my dad. "Maybe that's half the point."