Ladies and gentlemen, esteemed colleagues, thank you for joining me today. Since the dawn of civilisation humanity and Pokémon have worked together for mutual benefit, and yet despite our long history there is still much we don’t know about our friends. While we have domesticated and bonded with many type of Pokémon, the violent, volatile and often downright bizarre nature of hundreds of wild species makes researching them difficult and dangerous, if not outright impossible.
But no more. I have invented a device I call the “Pokéball,” which will allow us to capture and befriend even the most hostile of Pokémon. The Pokéball, when thrown at a wild Pokémon weakened through battle, will convert and store the Pokémon as a form of energy. The Pokémon will live in comfort inside the ball until it is brought out by its trainer, and it will return to the ball on command.
The implications of my invention are, as I’m sure you realise, ground-breaking. We will have access to Pokémon at a level unheard of in human history. We will be able to capture Pokémon once thought untouchable, and study and bond with them in ways never before imagined. But with so many wild Pokémon now able to be captured, how can we in the scientific community avoid being overwhelmed by new knowledge? I can give you the answer in one word: children.
I’m seeing a lot of blank looks in the audience. Allow me to explain. I propose we take children of grade school age, give them Pokéballs, a Pokédex and a weak Pokémon to call their own, and task them with wandering the globe in search of wild Pokémon. The data they could acquire would be invaluable to our research.
I admit that this sounds unorthodox. “Shouldn’t children stay in school to get a proper education?” you ask. Well, I say there’s nothing school can teach you that you won’t learn from nearly being roasted alive by a Charizard’s fire spin. What good is being able to read and write beyond a fourth grade level if you can’t defend yourself from a swarm of angry Beedrills? Will books keep you safe when you’re being chased by sentient swords?
I see concern in your eyes. Well, let me be the first to say that yes, there will be dangers associated with sending untrained, inexperienced children into the wilderness alone. They will get lost in forests and caves and abandoned power plants. They will encounter agents of the criminal gangs that run rampant across the world. Many will, to be blunt, die.
But those that survive will learn. Learn, not just how to survive in the wild, but to live as an adult. To balance a budget and make responsible fiscal choices and to not get murdered by sexual predators that prey on naïve, unaccompanied children. They will learn so much.
I mentioned money. Where, you’re no doubt wondering, will these children even get money? How will they not starve to death or die of exposure within a week? It’s simple—we encourage the general population to compete in Pokémon battles where the loser must surrender half of their cash. And we’ll make it illegal to refuse or flee battles. We can’t run from cancer or loneliness or the other battles life throws at us. Why should Pokémon battles be any different?
You ask what good could come from legalising bloodsports. The answer is character. A 10 year old that strolls down the road unmolested is a child. A 10 year old that’s forced to fight a series of brutal battles, a 10 year old that, just when he thinks he’s managed to scrape through the gauntlet unscathed is forced to watch his precious Capterpie be ripped to shreds by a Houndoom, is a man.
Pokémon mastery is everything in this world. Our children don’t need state capitals and long division—they need vengeful ghosts and colossal whales that will obey their every whim. Nobody will make fun of a child’s functional illiteracy when that child could unleash a Blastoise capable of breaking every bone in their body with a spray of highly pressurised water.
Lesser minds will doubt the wisdom of putting Pokémon that could destroy buildings or commit mass murder with ease in the hands of a child. “Can we trust a kid to properly raise an Alakazam, a Pokémon whose incredible mental acumen makes our human minds look like primitive adding machines?” Absolutely. For with great power comes great responsibility, and our children will quickly learn just how great this responsibility is. Yes, mistakes will be made. But we all know the old saying, “When you fall off a Ponyta, you remember to put on Kevlar pants before you get back on.” We live in an age where organised criminals that dress like background dancers from a 1980s music video are trying to destroy the world. How could our children do any worse?
Now, what of us? The educated professors, the intelligentsia? Our role will be to encourage these future Pokémon masters, to guide them from the comfort of our laboratories. We’re the greatest minds of our generation. Why should we risk our lives in the field when willing and eager youth could do it for us? I’m not about to try to avoid being trampled to death by wild Taurus that keep popping out of tall grass. That’s a young man’s game.
I believe that the Pokéball will herald a new dawn of knowledge and understanding between human and Pokémon. And I believe that sending uneducated children into the wilderness without any training or supplies on a mission to capture the most dangerous creatures known to man will lead to better life lessons than anything a “school” could teach. Our children and their Pokémon are the inheritors of Earth. Do we want any but the strongest amongst them to lead humanity forward? Geometry class isn’t going anywhere. But the wild dragon that shoots lasers from its eyes could be caught by another trainer. Would you rather your children master chemistry, or master Pokémon that can control the primal forces of the universe?
Thank you for your time. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go give three of my Pokémon away to aspiring young trainers. I will then encourage the child that chooses the fire Pokémon to battle the child that chooses the water Pokémon. Watching your new best friend immediately be beaten to a pulp is just another way of learning to grow up.