You don’t have to be the very best

Two energy removals, a super energy removal, a few energy cards and my beloved Machamp! Mulligan time. While my fiendish sister—who shall be referred to as Sheranisaurus Vex—mocks me and draws an additional card as a result of my unfortunate first hand. I pluck seven fresh cards from my deck.

The Pokegods are heckling me from the perilous depths of the Flukeyverse. I play my Professor Oak trainer to discard yet another useless hand which comprises mostly of pokemon … but not of the basic variety. By the balls of Brock I had two Wartortles in that second hand. Ah well, both Earls gets the gas as I discard my hand and draw yet another 7 cards.

Finally, the Squirtles and the Dratinis come out to play. Several skirmishes later my shiny Blastoise beckons to enter the melee. The Pokegods, though, are giggling now because they know that there is a rung missing in the evolutionary ladder. I’m waiting for Team Rocket to employ me for my incompetence.

Despite losing a few energy removals at the start of the battle, I managed to procure a few more and successfully neutralised Sheranisaurus Vex’s psychic minion long enough to prepare my Hitmonchan for some serious boxing. The Pokegods were whispering. Nevertheless punches were thrown and special kicks were, err, kicked. Purple-prick was being slapped about (it’s sad enough I know the names of the first 250).

Sheridan is a wise opponent; she heals her ailing Purple-prick with a potion and has attached enough energies for it to retaliate. Why didn’t you tell me sooner, Pokegods? Poor Hitmonchan drops in one swift move; his weakness to psychic-purple-prick means KO.

And so Sheranisaurus Vex systematically annihilated the wounded on my bench and shrieked victory. During her happy dance I scooped her new cards from the table, fled the arena, found the nearest toilet, drowned her army and flushed the evidence away.

For more gritty-pokey-realism check this out. If only this was a real film in the making.


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