Catching a Pokémon you don’t actually want is something we all do, it’s a part of normal Pokémon trainer life. The option to send your not so loved new slave to the lab for processing is a luxury we as trainers cannot live without. Who wants to be stuck with 50 Magikarp? Absolutely no one, people only keep it as a means to an end anyway. What if there were a darker side to our compulsive nature to transfer useless Pokémon to the lab? In a gruesome undercover story we uncovered the truth of the matter. Here’s the report.
To start the investigation I needed to catch a Pokémon in order to transfer it. Before transferring it I would need to find a safe place to store a small tracking device. With this I’ll uncover the lab that my Pokémon have been transferred to. Will I be able to meet the Pokémon I don’t really care about again, do they get put to work or are they enjoying luxury in a new community? I would soon find out.
I was able to catch a Magikarp, no real feat either, it splashed me and I threw a poke ball at it and it was caught, job done. There was only one place to put the tracking device and that was in its mouth. I attached it to a hook and then in a friendly way pierced its tongue with the hook and there it stayed. It joyfully flailed and then it went back into its prison ball before being transferred to the lab. I opened up my tracker, jumped on my bike and traced it into Viridian City. I pedalled through a crowd as I followed the tracker and came face to face with the lab. There must have been a mistake, before me stood the entrance to the Friendly Neighbourhood Butcher, the most popular butcher in the whole world! I walked in and the cold meat smell mixed with seeing animal carcasses hanging by butcher hooks in the cool room beyond the counter made me feel faint. It was normally a fine establishment to buy meat from, my tracker wasn’t lying, this was the lab.
I held up my Nothing New Under The Porch News Network badge and showed it to the burly one handed man behind the counter.
“Journalist, here to get some answers. Where do you get your meat?”
Journalists in this world are highly respectable people that deserve honest answers, so the butcher gave in immediately.
“We ahh get a lot of Pokémon sent here. It used to be a lab but the Professor became inundated with useless Pokémon that he had to find a way to deal with them.” I stood there perplexed and questioned him.
“Deal with them?”
“Yes, we started to humanely slaughter and process them to make delectable butchered meat. As you can see before you, these are the dearly beloved Pokémon no one wanted. It’s become a profitable enterprise. Call it pest control, we’re helping make the world a better place.”
My eyes gazed over the fine selection of meats and I couldn’t believe all this time I’d been eating Pokémon, we’ve all been sending them to their doom so that we could buy them and grill them.
“As a job It’s really not all that interesting, chopping the heads off Torchic gets old quickly and flaying a Taurus isn’t as fun as it sounds. While you’re here though can I get you anything? We have a special on Ditto pate, tastes gross in my opinion. Our bestseller this week has been the Mr Mime bicep steaks which is often bought with Lechonk sausages, great if you’re having a fry up. My personal favourite though is the Jigglypuff tenderloins.”
Now that I knew that Pokémon weren’t being cruelly left to live a mundane life in a lab I felt better about the investigation. I took him up on his suggestions and bought some Sudowoodo toothpicks to help pick out any Mr Mime from my teeth later. Case closed.
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