(I began a Nuzlocke Challenge run in Pokémon Leafgreen today. I don’t know exactly what to expect from this. I’ve heard they’re tough and involve a lot of grinding, but these games usually involve a lot of the latter, anyway. It seems like masochistic fun (the only kind, baby!), so why the hell not?
Amidst my writing of other blog posts people might actually want to read and playing games not intended for children, I’ll periodically update this Nuzlocke… thing. I’m gonna put it out there. If you like it, you can take it. If you don’t, send it right back.
I think I’ll write this in a train-of-thought diary style as I go, posting each section when I feel I’ve accumulated enough—let’s be fair here—bullshit. I know it’s customary to do a Web comic for this sort of thing, but I can’t draw or tell a story worth a damn, so I guess this will have to do. Here goes nothing…)
My adventure begins. I’ll be the League Champion yet, I tell ya what. But first, I’ll need a Pokémon. Bulbasaur. Yes, he destroys the first two gym leaders. Besides, he’s the only good Grass-type starter, ever. It’ll be smooth sailing early on…
It’s not long before my rival, Calvin (named in honor of the disdain I hold for “Calvin and Hobbes”), wants to fight. He’s such a hyper-competitive twit. I swear. He picks Charmander, my Achilles heel, as rivals are wont to do. No matter. I destroy him, wreaking my vicarious revenge on that stupid comic strip.
I’m off. Time to go to the Viridian City Pokémart to pick up Professor Oak’s stupid parcel. Probably has a BDSM kit or something, not that I’m judging the old pervert. Why do I have to do this, anyway? Isn’t Calvin his grandson? Shouldn’t he be asking a family member to pick up his sordid toys? Maybe he’s afraid Calvin will steal it, not that I’m judging the damn klepto.
I try to move on to Route 2, but some old guy is leering at me from his porch, shotgun in hand. He says something about not having his coffee and that he “fought for you assholes,” so I decide to leave him alone for now. Anyway, knowing Oak, he’d tell my mom and get me grounded for not delivering his fetish gear.
With Oak’s parcel delivered, my true journey begins. Oak gives me a Pokédex and tells me I have to embark on some kind of journey of self-discovery. I get the feeling he and my mom just want me out of the house again…
I also have Pokéballs, so I can catch my first Pokémon. I hope it’s a Pidgey. Stupid thing is always a mainstay in my early game. Sure would be great to have a Pidgey… So, naturally, I encounter a Rattata. Oh well. I guess I won’t look a gift rodent in the mouth.
Oh look, now I’m in Viridian City all over again. Should have been in Pewter City by now, but hey. Thanks a lot, Oak and Calvin. Perverted kleptomaniac douchebags. Might as well try to catch something out west while I’m here. Hope it doesn’t suck. (As it happens, it does not.) Freaking Mankey. Hell yes, I love this guy. Or girl, in this case, as this Mankey is indeed female.
Time to grind. And grind I shall. Luckily, I can literally fast forward for this part of the game, so grinding for three hours becomes grinding for about half an hour to 45 minutes. Thank goodness for ROMs. (I already bought the game new on GameBoy Advance, so it’s not like Nintendo didn’t already get my money. shut up dont judge me)
Barry, Riley and Molly are all level 13 now. What a chore, but at least a couple of them have totally sweet move sets. Now that I have Karate Chop, I fear no Normal-type! Time to move on.
Some old man leaps out of the shadows and tells me how beautiful everything is now that he’s had his coffee. Wait, isn’t this that crazy drunken veteran? Oh well. He asks me if I want to learn how to catch a Pokémon. I try to tell him I already caught two, presenting my three Pokéballs, but it’s too late. He spots a Weedle trying to build a nest, or whatever it is Weedles do, and hurls his Pokéball at it, instantly catching the thing. Come to think of it, I think that was a Master Ball. Was it worth it, old man?
I thank him for the information. I cry a little as I walk away. I am a man now.
Route 2 brings me much joy as I catch a Pidgey. It seems I shall not go wanting for my traditional Flying-type. Welcome to the team, little guy. Or girl. I’m picking up a lot of girls, which is weird, because they usually run away at the mere sight of me. At least I’m a figurative ladies man in a children’s role-playing game.
An hour or so of grinding and a trip to the Mart later, I’m balls-deep in Antidotes and my whole party is level 13. I can do this: Viridian Forest, I’m about to make you my bitch. I can’t wait to catch a totally awesome Bug-type in here or, dare I say it, a Pikac—Fuck me, it’s a Metapod.
You know what’s awesome about Metapod? The fact that it only knows Harden. Not a single offensive move. This is torture. Why would I even raise it? Part of me hopes it dies during training so I won’t have to level it to 10. But I suffer through it anyway, the promise of a halfway decent (hah!) Bug-type spurring me on. Finally, the stupid thing evolves, becoming marginally less terrible.
The Pewter City Gym is barely a footnote in my journey to the Pokémon League, not even the mighty Brock able to present a challenge for Barry. Vine Whip, rapin’ errybody out here. How’s that for fetish fuel, Oak? Actually, that shouldn’t be mentioned again, ever.
Brock gives me a stupid TM and shoos me out, probably so he can cry with his dudebro friend while they play Call of Duty and drink Natural Light. Disgusting. I know I’m but a lad, but even I know that light beer is a crime against mankind, and probably Pokékind.
After steamrolling a few trainers on Route 3, I encounter a Spearow. Riley kills it by accident with her weakest attack. That’s my good girl!
As I approach Mt. Moon, there’s only one thing on my mind: The sea of Geodudes and Zubats I’m about to dive into. The only question is which one I’ll encounter first, that retard Clefairy the farthest thing now from my mind. As fate would have it, though… No, just fucking with you—it was a Zubat.
To be continued…