It was a warm February morning, the day I was going to get my first Pokemon. I remember as a young child always prancing around Pallet Town squealing 'I want a Pikachu as my first Pokemon!'. I dressed in light clothes and set out toward Route 1. Then I saw grass. My mother warned me to never go in tall grass, and I listened ever since Douche chased me into the grass, trying to make me eat a dead Caterpie he found under his porch. A Pidgey flew up out of the grass and almost attacked me, but then Douche's grandfather intervened. He captured the Pidgey and sent us back to our parents.
Now I felt I could protect myself from stupid little creatures. As I stepped into the grass, I heard someone calling my name and I whipped my head to the side to see who was calling. It was Oak, he grabbed my shoulder and threw me into the dirt. "What the fuck, old man?!" I gasped and spit dirt out of my mouth.
"It's dangerous to go out without a Pokemon, you should come to my lab and get one!" he bickered,