Quake 3 is too monotonous (BFG or Railgun?). CounterStrike, although somewhat more mentally-taxing, is a pain since I can't connect to the only server that really matters. A friend picked up Raiden 2, which was fun for about two hours, but quickly wore away. And don't even get me started about the bore that is EverQuest.

There was only one place to turn, one game that called out into the back of my mind ...

"Div ... play me, Div ... come on, Div, play me ... you know you want to ... all your friends are doing it ... the first one's for free ..."

Finally, I gave in, picked up my GameBoy, and turned on the game that devours children's souls. I turned on ...

Now, I've been skeptic about this game since the beginning. It seems like it's a game just for kids, but anything that makes a TV episode that makes their target audience go into seizures is somewhat OK in my book. I can't wait for the day when, while watching Must See TV, Courtney Cox-Arquette-Whatever looks into the camera menacingly, makes her eyes go into 50 billion different colors per second, and *POW* trendy white people across the country are paralyzed for minutes, sometimes hours.

But enough about the cartoon, it's the game I'm supposed to be enjoying here.

I boot up my *cough* Game Boy and load my *cough* authentic and real Pokemon Red Cartridge (which was in no way emulated or hacked. No sir), and started. I was greeted by a crusty old guy who referred to himself as "Prof. Oak." Claiming to be a "Pokemon Prof," he tells me a bit about the world I am about to be immersed in. Swell.

Then he asks me for my name. Something doesn't seem right here. I feel like I'm getting propositioned by a pimp to become one of his trustworthy child-hos. I'd better leave an alias.

Then he tells me of his "grandson" who has been "my rival since I was a baby." Riiiight. Seems like good ol' Prof. Oak forgot the name of his supposed Grandson. I'd better refresh his memory.

So now my exciting adventure is about to begin. Once I stop playing the SNES (insert product plug here, even though no Pokemon games were ever made for the SNES). My room doesn't have much it seems, just a computer, a table, and a TV with the SNES. Why is the TV in the middle of the floor while there's a perfectly good and clean table that it can be set on? Maybe it's because of my loopy "mom" and her house arranging abilities. Why do I call her loopy? Well, there's always the first conversation I had with her ...

MOM: "Right. All boys leave home some day. It said so on TV."

Mom, do you know that I'm getting pimped by some old guy claiming to be a teacher? And why did my TV get put in the middle of my room? Hello? Mom? MOM!!!!!

MOM: "Prof. Oak, next door, is looking for you."

Oh gee, swell. Can I at least have my allowance? Mom? MOM!!!

MOM: "Right. All boys leave home some day. It said so on TV. Prof. Oak, next door, is looking for you."

CHILDREN'S LESSON THAT THIS GAME TEACHES #1: ALL PARENTS ARE STUPID. ESPECIALLY SINGLE ONES.

Well, at least it looks like I have money ... yep, a lot. Three thousand ... uh ... three thousand what? What the hell are these? Dollars? Yen? Francs? Mentos?

That's it. I've had it with this one-horse town. The money's weird, the people are all on Valium, and the biggest building in the town is where the professor does his "studies." But before I go, I get stopped by everyone's favorite old guy. Seems that he doesn't want me to leave without "protection." Finally, I actually get a pokemon of my very own. I have three choices, and Squirtle just seems to be the best by far, at least as far as names go. Hey Look! I can name my Squirtle!

Well, leave it to Hawk to come along and take a pokemon of his very own. Not only that, but he wants us to fight. His little Bulbasaur growls his little heart out, but I manage to lay out the smack on his sissy Pokemon ass. After his defeat, he claims he picked the wrong Pokemon. Yeah, yeah, blame it on the Pokemon.

Now that my pimp-daddy Oak has given me my own little squirtle, it's time for me to go lay some smack on some wild heathen pokemon ass. Unfortunately, little Penix wasn't up to the task, and after three fights he passed out. Poor little tyke just didn't have it in him, I suppose. Little did I know, however, that if I lose all my useable pokemon, I black out, only to wake up at the doorstep at my mom's house, fully healed but at only with half as much money as before.

Damn wild Pokemon. Mugging me to sustain their crack cocaine habits, no doubt. Looks like I'm going to have to get me some more buddies to stay safe. In order to do that, however, I'm going to have to hoof it to Viridian City to buy me some Poke Balls. When I arrive there, I notice that the entire city must be on drugs. The town slogan is "the Eternally Green City," even though everything is a dismal grey. Even the FLOWERS dance around in a dizzying pattern. To top it all off, I arrive at the Poke Mart, only to have the register jockey hand me a mysterious package to be delivered to Professor Oak, no questions asked.

CHILDREN'S LESSON THAT THIS GAME TEACHES #2: DELIVERING MYSTERIOUS PACKAGES FROM STRANGE AND MYSTERIOUS STORES TO EQUALLY STRANGE AND MYSTERIOUS FATHER FIGURES IS A-OK. DON'T BOTHER ASKING A POLICE OFFICER'S OPINION.

Well, I want a Pokemon posse of my very own, so I guess it's time to be Oak's personal little drug runner. At least I'm not cleaning public toilets, or serving fried McDonalds Chicken Heads to children.

So now that I've delivered Oak his very own "specially crafted ball," I can finally get me some bitches of my own. Word on the street says that I need to beat a pokemon to within an inch of its life before capturing it. Wild Pokemon don't really "die" though, they just faint. So why can't I just beat them until they faint, then pick up the unconscious body and restore it at a local Pokemon center?

It is a mystery!!

Even still, I find a couple of wild ones, and start gleaming more information from the dazed and confused townsfolk. Apparently there are eight gym leaders scattered across eight towns, and it is my job to pimp slap each and every one of these to become grand Pokemon master. Why? Who knows. Who cares? Do you? Do I? I thought about this for awhile, and came to the grand conclusion of why this game was created: to get kids out of their parents' faces. Unless, of course, they want some super-cool Pokemon merchandise. Then it's back in the parents' faces again. Ha ha ha, those Japanese game designers sure are stinkers, aren't they?

Even still, I find myself strangely attracted to the adventures of young Fux0r. Should I have him continue his quest? Or should I have him hang up his balls and head back to the Pimpfessor? YOU DECIDE!!!