Not too long after entering Cerulean Cave, my nose picks up what it’s looking for: the rich, peppery smell of a cigar, burning somewhere deep within this labyrinth of Rhydons and Dittos trying desperately to be Rhydons, though they can never get the effortless cool of the Rhydon face quite right and end up residing hard in uncanny valley to these eyes.
A few left turns and a couple rides on my Dewgong later, the smell is overbearing and I’m greeted with a familiar forceful voice inside my head.
“What mortal has the audacity to enter my lair? Who dares believe they are worthy to penetrate the fortress of my solitude—”
"Jesus, Kenny, dial it down a notch?"
“Oh, Remy! Sorry man, come on in. I just lit up a cigar.”
"Yeah, the whole fuckin’ cave is aware."
Kenny’s always been a shitball. Ever since his scientific conception, he’s had delusions of grandeur, and sure enough his physical power as a Pokemon goes unmatched in Kanto, but without guidance, his megalomania has been mixed with Snorlax levels of sloth, so the guy spends his days getting high and wasting his potential beating up the shlubs in Cerulean Cave.
"To what do I owe the pleasure, man?" he asks me, stogie still burning uninterrupted.
"I came to ask about your Mother."
"Mew? That fuckin’ Pokesocialite, tryna get buddy-buddy with Arceus and Celebii, when it’s the Johto birds she oughta be worrying about. I tell you, they’re about to make a power play for the Best Legendaries Trophy. Why do wanna talk about her?"
"I just need to talk to her, Kenny. Where can I find her?" The red at the end of Kenny’s cigar dulls for just a moment.
“Listen, man, my Mom and I don’t talk much. I don’t know where she is. She hasn’t checked in on me in years, which, you know, whatever, but I can’t help you man. I might as well be as stranger to her as you are, for the shits she gives…”
I can sense Kenny’s voice, in my head though it is, drift off, as though he were shoring up the psychic connection he’d opened between us. He spits out the cigar. The old alarm bells are going off in my head, though I can’t be sure if they’re from Kenny or myself.
"But fuck, who needs her anyway, right?" Kenny rising off the floor, a wind picking up the cigar ash and dirt around him. I try to talk him down, but it’s no use. I fucking knew this would happen. "I mean, I’m the most powerful Pokemon in existence! I don’t need Mew, the weak bitch!"
On a dime, I turn out of there and hop on old Dewgong, speeding away on the waves as Kenny, for the twenty-fourth time, destroys his lair in a temper tantrum. What a fucking baby.