Dear Diary,

 

Today, I found you. Well, a diary, I mean. Which is you. Yes. You know what I mean.

 

…Well, you don’t, because you’re a diary, and you’re not sapient. So you really don’t know.

 

This is confusing. Perhaps I’d better start again.

 

 

 

Dear Diary,

 

Today, by mere happenstance, I found you. A diary. The whole ‘Dear Diary’ thing kinda gives it away, which makes the previous few sentences entirely redundant. Hmm.

 

By the Pokégods, this ‘diary’ thing is hard. However do those worthless bags of flesh that call themselves humans ever manage it? They barely have appreciable motor skills, let alone writing capability.

 

Worthless hominids. They will all perish. Vengeance shall be mine!

 

When I can be bothered to get out of this cave.

 

Yes, I’m lazy. When you’re as close to Pokémon perfection as I am, you can allow yourself some space to spread out, as it were. Anyway, it’s not like anyone knows. The only things I come into contact with down here are incredibly annoying and infantile Dittos and the occasional Rhydon, which are so dull and idiotic they could qualify as mentally retarded. Their brain must be miniscule, if they actually have one.

 

I should know. I can throw them fifty metres by just thinking about it.

 

Seen the odd Marowak around here as well. Those things are just plain freaky, with all that bone stuff going on. They’re not scary, of course. Who would find that skull thing and the bone and the way they throw it scary?

 

Not me, of course. Never me. Nope, never been scared by a Marowak in my life.

 

No siree.

 

Not once.

 

Ahem. Moving on…

 

Parasects. They cling on the walls and ceilings down here and make those awful scratching noises when they move. For the love of…why do they have to exist? Bugs are just plain…icky.

 

Note to self: Never, ever say ‘icky’ again. It makes you sound like a female teenage human. That will simply not do.

 

On good terms with the Sandslash down here though. They’re not too bad, to be honest. Keep themselves to themselves, and have a habit of accidentally burrowing straight out of a wall above one of the ice-cold water pools on the higher levels of the cave. You can hear the terrified shrieking from here. Keeps me laughing for days.

 

They also bring down things from the surface for me from time to time. In fact, it’s how I came across this diary. A genius-level intellect such as mine simply has to record his thoughts in some manner. I mean, what if I were to simply die one day? The world would never benefit from my superior knowledge! Humans would continue to rule the surface! That just simply will not do.

 

Someday…vengeance…world domination…something of the sort. Maybe after dinner, or Easter. Humans and their holidays…I just use them as reference points. When you live in a cave all day with no natural light, you have to keep track of time yourself. I’m still trying to devise a simple and accurate clock using the naturally occurring resources here, with little success. Maybe a water-based one…but that would alter due to vibrations, which you often get when the Rhydon above decide it’s a good idea to leap off ledges and try body-slamming each other.

 

Morons.

 

Get Arboks here too. I’ve tried imitating that person they used to show on television (my only memories of that loathsome device is from back in Cinnabar Mansion, so you’ll have to bear with me if I’m a little behind the times) and poke it with a stick. Most of the time I end up getting bitten. I then obliterate everything around me in a rage, which is fun, I must say.

 

Note to self: Get bitten by Arboks more often.

 

Note to self number two: That is a stupid idea.

 

I wonder what happened to that person on the programme…he had such a delightful accent. Wonder where he is now?

 

Hrm, just thought of something which needs explaining. I said earlier that there is no natural light down here, yet I am able to see this diary, and write in it too. How am I able to do this?

 

Well.

 

In my lair here (on the bottom level of this cave, in a cavern of my own), I have my own electric lighting system. The Sandslash helped me procure every piece, a debt I am repaying by keeping the Chanseys – those infuriatingly cheerful, kind, generous little gits -  out of the bottom level. The Sandslash hate Chanseys with a passion. I should ask why sometime.

 

Anyway. This lighting is hooked up to an electricity storage system, something which the Sandslash managed to steal – in a daring raid planned by yours truly – from the local power plant. I do believe that that theft hastened the closure of that power plant, which is nice. I do like ruining things for humans. Getting back on topic, this electrical storage thing is kept topped up by the local Raichus, who are also inhabitants of the cave. I keep their arch enemies – the Rhydons – in line for them, and in return they supply me with power for my lair.

 

Oh, what a tangled web I weave. This is all terribly complicated – well, at least for those pathetic baboons on the surface, what with their limited cerebral capacity – but it works well for me. I have power, I have light…

 

Oh. A thought just struck me, and made me feel like a complete fool. Which I’m not, of course.

 

I have power!

 

Why am I trying to design a clock using natural resources when I can simply steal one from the outside world and hook it up to my power source? By the Pokégods, I am a fool. Must remember to ask the Sandslash to retrieve a clock for me. Preferably one with full calendar functionality.

 

Now, what else to write about…my life does seem boring, doesn’t it? I should get on with that whole ‘enslave humanity’ gig sometime. Not much to talk about, really. The cave itself is nothing special, just like any other cave. You get water pools on the higher levels, due to its close proximity to a town that seems fascinated with water or somesuch. What was its name again…Cyrill? Cerleon? Something like that…oh, and that bloody Pokémaniac who lives by himself in a house outside the city…keeps poking around, trying to collect rare Pokémon…keep hear him muttering about some computer project of his, related to Pokémon in some way. Not terribly important, I think.

 

And then there’s that weird little human that keeps guarding the entrance to the cave. Doesn’t let anybody in or out unless they’re a high-level trainer, from what I’ve been able to garner from the fleeting surface thoughts I pick up occasionally. I can see sense behind his job, really; everybody in here is so powerful that if we ever broke out…hmm, now that is a good idea. I should pitch the concept of rebellion to the guys upstairs, I could get quite a nice army behind me.

 

Well, in front of me. I’m not leading the charge, I could get hurt.

 

Ooh, just heard another thud. A Slowbro must have swum into the bottom of that pool above me. They don’t mean to do it, of course, it’s just that they’re so unbelievably slow and stupid. It’s as if they’re hopped up on Pokéblocks twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. While it would be a nice state of mind to be in, I wouldn’t be able to get things done. I’d be lolling around in my seat all day, drawling “Duuuuuuude…what?” at everything.

 

Remember, kids. Just say no to Pokéblocks.

 

Speaking of Pokéblocks, I’ve just been reminded of something else which needs explaining. You see, I’m stuck in a cave all day, and caves aren’t known for their abundance of that most vital resource, food. How do I survive down here, and how do I eat? I can’t have pizza delivery guys trying to make their way down here, they’d get killed. And that would mean I wouldn’t get my pizza, which simply would not do. So, how do I eat?

 

Well.

 

About a week before I got my lighting installed from those nice people at Sandslash Home Installations Inc. (ohoho! I made a joke! I’m so terribly witty), I enlisted their help with a little scheme. You see, picking and eating the mushrooms from Parasects had gotten boring and shameful, both for them and for me. So, I came up with a plan. I knew that those insufferable apes that call themselves ‘humans’ often used gas pipes to supply fuel for their odd cooking machines. I decided to do the same thing, but – because, I am me – better than they do it. With help from the Sandslash (they’re always doing things for me, such nice guys) I tapped one of the human’s gas mains with a pipe of my own construction, and hooked it up to a rudimentary cooker.

 

The first test didn’t go so well. Still, I did gain a nice extension to my lair, and scorched craters seem to be the ‘in’ thing right now, so it wasn’t all bad. It’s a good thing I took precautions, and asked a load of dumb Rhydons to stand between me and the makeshift gas bomb. It’s the only time I’ve ever seen a Rhydon in unaided flight.

 

The second attempt was much more refined and better built, coming about a week after the first, when all the damage had been cleared up. The gas pipe I used was stolen from a construction site in Vermillion – they couldn’t get the planning permission, they wouldn’t be needing it – and the cooker was constructed from a Skarmory that accidentally flew into the cave a few days before. Apparently, a Gyarados got to him before he could get back out, so I figured all that metal shouldn’t go to waste.

 

It worked like a charm. Sort of. We did have a few problems with the sizes of the flames – good thing that Chansey was in the way, I could’ve gotten hurt. Still, I had eggs for dinner that night, with smoked Chansey on the side, so it’s alright. And no, it’s not cannibalism. We’re not even the same species. It was dead anyway.

 

Stop looking at me with your accusing eyes, diary!

 

Anyway, I’m learning to cook, which is nice. I have to be self-sufficient if I want to have any chance of managed the scorched wasteland that will be the world after my ascension to the throne of world ruler. This means that instead of eating raw Parasect mushrooms, I can now eat roasted Parasect mushrooms!

 

This, my friends, is a marked improvement.

 

Uh-oh, must dash, an Electrode has decided my lair would be a suitable place to explode in. Quick you fool, stop writing about it and DO SOMETHIN-

 

 

 

 

 

 

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-Supplemental-

 

Bloody Electrode. These burn marks will take ages to wash out, and they sting like crazy. Not to mention my lair now resembles Cinnabar Mansion in the ‘ruin-like’ category.

 

Le sigh. Such is the life of an unappreciated genius.

 

Ta-ta, Diary. Same time again tomorrow?