<Stanley powered down his breakfast for the morning, having woken up just slightly earlier than yesterday and grateful for the extra few minutes this had allowed him. His family were around the table eating as well, albeit not quite as quickly as he was.>


    “By the way Stanley, you’ll want to practice using a pokeball starting today. Your pokemon may be cute now, but if it evolves people may be uncomfortable with having a large fire type walking around.” Eric suggested, sliding the brand new and shiny pokeball in its box across the table. Charmander, taking notice, seemed to try and shovel the remainder of breakfast into its mouth before hopping down to stand before the child, careful not to send any food particles on the papers next to Eric.


    <Oh wow my first pokeball, Stanley remarked, his eyes entrapped by the clean red shine off the top of the orb. Unboxing the sphere was simple, as Stanley ripped the top of the plastic box off and flagrantly discarded it on the table to extract the shiny orb within. Just like he’d seen on the television, Stanley grabbed the ball, took aim, and threw it at his pokemon.>


    The ball hit the lizard on the head with a thunk, before plopping to the ground inert while the lizard rubbed the light bruise on its head. “Ow, kid did you not read the instructions?” It asked sarcastically, likely knowing that the answer needn’t be spoken.


    <Stanley, unsure what he did wrong, grabbed the ball in disbelief, as his mother informed him “Stanley, you need to press the button three times, then throw it to catch a pokemon.” Oh, Stanley realized, and quickly pressed the small button three times, causing the little button to intermittently start glowing a pulsing red, before he gently lobbed the ball at his pokemon.>


    This time the ball fell softly, clicked, and snapped open as a bright red energy surrounded Charmander. The lizard quickly vanished amidst the energy as it shrunk down into the ball. The ball wiggled for a few seconds before the light went out and it gave the chime of a successful capture. “Now Stanley, try to keep your friend in his pokeball today when you aren’t in math class, OK?” Eric suggested, moving to put on his coat and expanding a pokeball from his own pocket. With a gentle kiss goodbye to Diane, Eric walked out the front door and called forth a Pidgeot. Climbing the giant bird’s back, Eric waved goodbye to Stanley as he and the pokemon flew off for work.


    <Stanley waved goodbye to his mom as he left to catch the bus. It was always exciting to see dad fly off on the company’s Pidgeot, and Stanley hoped he’d have a pokemon that would be able to fly him everywhere someday soon. Walking towards the bus stop, Stanley began to feel slightly mischievous. Why do I need to keep my pokemon in its pokeball until we get there?, he questioned. With a glance to ensure his mom hadn’t secretly followed him, Stanley withdrew the pokeball from his pocket, clicking the button just as his father had done to make it expand in his hand. He paused to lob the ball on the ground nearby to let his partner out.>You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    The ball fell to the ground, with a single bounce, but nothing happened and both the pokeball and boy stood motionless.


    <The pokemon exited from its pokeball in a blaze of fiery red energy.>


    To an outside observer, this would be one of the scenes where, to save money, the animation team would draw a simple still frame, and zoom out over several seconds to indicate a motionless tension; a standoff in this situation.


    <The pokemon, understanding Stanley’s intent, emerged from its pokeball, immediately.>


    This time there was a flash, as the ball snapped open to reveal Charmander after the bright white light faded. “You need to do the thing, you need to vocalize something like ‘Charmander, come out!’ for me to know what it is you want,” he explained.


    <Stanley, unsure what his pokemon was saying, plucked the ball from the ground and continued walking to the bus stop. Yes, this feels much better, he thought, happier to no longer be walking alone.>


    “If you’re going to enforce that we follow along with your story, the least you could do is be consistent with the established rules,” Charmander continued, keeping only two paces behind the child. “How do you expect us to battle if he can’t say anything?”


    <Stanley wasn’t sure what his pokemon was saying. Maybe it was trying to reassure him for class today, or did he forget his homework at home?>


    “No you damned dollar-store discount David Attenborough, I’m talking to you. If we’re going to play by your rules, you should too,” he said, raising his voice with tones of anger and frustration, as the child immediately ground to a halt. The world was still alive, still moving, but the way the child appeared frozen in time felt off.


    <You seem to be unaware of your role in this story, small one.>


    With a deep breath, Charmander gathered as much courage as it could find. “I am aware of my role, but you are completely disregarding basic, established rules of this universe. How am I to fulfill my role when you have not provided me with your expectations?”


    <Such an accusation is quite rich coming from an individual who is attempting to circumvent the human-pokemon communication barrier via written notes, or were you entirely sure as to your role? A pokemon that can read and write is exceptionally ridiculous and outside the bounds of this narrative. How about this, why don’t we start over? Yes, then we can both adhere to the ‘proper rules’ as you called them.>


    Ugh, Pokemon Parable, scene one take two; Action!