When you’ve been in this field as long as me, you know where to find ‘em. Of course, I’m talking about Pokémon. That’s my passion, my dream, the only thing I’ve ever wanted to do. And that’s why I became a Pokémon Hunter.

You see, rich men who never grew up will pay a lot of money to capture Pokémon that someone has already tied to a tree. Sure, it’s borderline illegal, and it’s frowned upon by real sportsmen and Pokémon enthusiasts, but money talks, right? And so I go out every weekend and use my Pokémon indoor sleeping bag to find and attract the rarest Pokémon I can find, then haul them back to my little fenced in pen so Team Rocket can whip out the Pokéballs and snag a Shiny Charmander before brunch is over. They always look so proud. Like they’ve finally accomplished something. Which, of course, they haven’t, but who cares, right?

Because people like that, they don’t want to be out in the living room all night, covered in fake leaves and Psyduck musk. That’s why my skills are in such high demand. I know just where to make camp, quietly, and I sleep light. That’s how I caught my first Jigglypuff, you know. I was a young man, using my Pokémon indoor sleeping bag as a comforter on my twin sized bed, and suddenly, there she was! I was so astonished, I could barely hold the Pokédex! But I got her, and she’s been mine ever since. Of course, right now she works as a dancer in that club across town. Brings in extra cash I use for beer money. She cries a little sometimes, but she’s a trooper.

Disgusting? Hey, these things were bred to fight each other! They don’t even speak except their name! How narcissistic is that? You ask me, a Squirtle’s better off in my camp than out there in the wild. At least they serve a purpose my way. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to spread out my Pokémon indoor sleeping bag and get ready. I’ve heard there’s a Geodude behind the fridge and I’ve got a meeting with a banker in the morning. He’s gonna be so happy to have a trophy like this.

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