Building the Best Pokémon Team (Part 22)

Oh me, oh my, we’re getting into the Sinnoh Legendary Pokémon now, where even if I became a Rap God it’d still take me all year to get through. I beg only 10 or 15 minutes of your time today to at least get started on… if you’ll let me check my notes… the Lake Trio. I suppose it’s better to start wit hteh inoffensive before getting righ tdown to the dream destroyers and time purloiners.

I’d better keep it in my pants though – no, Cynthia hasn’t just walked in with a sort of “where’s Burkey” expressiono on her face, but we need to finish off some new evolutions to old Pokémon first. I know, I know, I’m as sick of them as you are, but don’t worry, I’m sure they can’t all be as bad as Rhyperior.


I was wondering where this fella went. You go back to Gen 1, the bad old black-and-green days, and you wonder why both the Eeveelutions and the Legendary Birds had a thunder brother instead of a grass buddy. It meant Bulbasaur had nobody to play with, except Bellsprout and Gloom, but they were like those bloody weird kids in your neighbourhood. Even after arriving late, it’s not a simple Leaf Stone that’s needed for Leafeon, oh no – you have to find some mossy rock and train around there. Could this thing BE any more awkward? There you’ll be, a trainer trying to make their way and stay on top of things, when Leafeon will be impatiently explaining its dietary requirements to you. You need all that, don’t you? Leafeon is probably not altogether useless in battle, but I’m afraid any time it had to shine passed several Generations ago, and it’s got nobody to blame but itself.


I’m definitely more of a fan of this one. I think if you’re gonna choose an Eeveelution to use, you can go one of two ways: either it can be a brawler, a rough-and-ready dog of war like Jolteon or Flareon; or it can be an elegant, sleek design like Vaporeon and Espeon. Glaceon falls into the latter category and I tend to think there’s always something a bit regal and refined about using an Ice-type, with the alarming, king-size exception of Jynx. This too carries an awkward evolution method, forcing you to find the coldest spot in the region before Glaceon will even do you the courtesy of greeting you. But that’s faux-royalty for you, innit? And it’ll pay dividens for you when you extinct an enemy back to the Ice Age using the one-hit KO move Sheer Cold. It’s not going to dethrone Lapras of course, but realistically, what would? That thing used to outfox my perfect stat Gen 1 Mewtwo, for crying out loud.


Gligar was a Poké-Facehugger, making it a serious piece of work indeed. Gliscor is even bigger, meaner looking, and probably ten times more vicious. Can you imagine this thing flying at you at a rate of knots? Forget about trying ti impress Lorelei and Professor Ivy watching on from the crowd, you’d have it away on your toes and run like hell in case this monstrous vampire bat got a hold of you. I reckon one tiny little sting and you’d swell up to about 10 times your size and weight, and then your skin would turn an awful turquoise colour before you exploded in a sea of cadaverine. I preferred the idea of getting slapped around by a cute little Clefairy, didn’t you? Be very afraid of Gliscor, but if you get one on your side, it’ll absolutely clean up for you.


We had to wait 65 million years for Swinub’s and Piloswine’s eyes to open. Well, okay, it was really only six or seven years, which is mental to think about. Mamoswine’s design, stats, and battling abilities are all really good. I’d say it looks thr part. One thing that does bug me about it though, and in a similar vein to the fossil Pokémon – mammoths are well known for having gone extinct, which means that even with their size and strength, they simply weren’t good enough for natural selection. Now, with the exception of Generation II, Pokémon battles don’t tend to go on for so long that species can be naturally selected. But evolution is obviously a massive part of Pokémon, and Mamoswine isn’t getting any further down the line than this. I’d say use him, but just know that your lovely woolly elephant is living on borrowed time.


I vividly remember the bad old days of computers. Our first one was a Windows Millenium Edition, and you would have hardly known if the supposed Y2K bug had affected it because it was already getting shot to pieces by all manner of other errors and crashes. That was the initial Porygon. Porygon2 was probably XP, as in something that genuinely looked next-age, which performed great and is remembered fondly. Porygon-Z must be Vista then, an operating system that a lot of people dumped on for some reason and called buggy, but one which I loved. Wait, can you love an operating system? Well of course, there’ll be people out there who are in love with Alexa and Siri. Are there people out there in love with a computerised rubber ducky? I’m sure the answer to that is also yes. Take Porygon-Z into battle – assuming you can get your hands on one – and it’ll do well for you. It shouldn’t suddenly crash, or hit you with a most unhelpful blue screen of death, anyway. Thankfully, those days are just about gone now.


Perhaps in an combat the incessant Rule 34 and entire libraries of questionable fanart being made of Gardevoir, Game Freak give her a husband, as if that would dissuade the deviant fan artists. Actually, Gallade is an alternate evolution from the second stage Kirlia, which puts Gallade and Gardevoir uncomfortably close to step-sibling territory, and we both know what thay means. Actually, perhaps I’m the only pervert here so let’s get back to seriousness for a bit. I reckon Gallade is another severely underrated choice – mixing the Psychic and Fighting types always plays well, and they did well to turn the evolutionary line’s vulnerable female design into a pretty boss looking male one. To be honest, I still prefer using Gardevoir in battles, but don’t let that put you off – I’m the pervert remember. People of taste might just prefer Gallade’s physical power. I daresay he won’t let you down.


Now if there’s one thing I hate, it’s those people who get offended on behalf of others. That said, am I the only one who thinks this steel beast is a bit out of line? If Uri Geller was angry about Kadabra for so long, then how do you think the devout Jews felt about this thing? Or am I the one being bigoted for even drawing the comparison in the first place? I don’t even know anymore, so I’d rather get back to the safety of critiquing Probopass’s battling ability and coolness factor only. And I’m afraid to say neither avenue looks good for Proby. You were already bang in coolness and aesthetic trouble using Nosepass, so a tacked-on evolution won’t do you any favours. Its natural magnetism could be used as a localised EMP weapon of sorts, although it’ll probably just wipe your phone and its contents instead. Probably the best you can hope for from Probopass is to use Explosion and detonate into a billion iron filings, with shrapnel flying absolutely everywhere. Oy vey.


I like the Duskull line a lot. We were still short on Ghost-types coming in to Generation 3, believe it or not, so the spectoral Pokémon were still a novelty. Little Duskull is every bit the impish little devil, resembling a doddery old man with his hands behind his back, pacing around a graveyard, up to mischief. Dusclops was still creepy, though I felt it lost something when it grew legs – it became more of a slow mummy than a dimension shifting spook. Dusknoir is the answer I’m looking for. This thing just exudes menace, and is well capable of looking after itself in battle. Ghost Pokémon Dex entries are always a blast to read, and Dusknoir’s is no different, gleefully telling us how it uses its second mouth (that’s the belly mouth) to swallow luckless fools whole, separates them from their souls and then spit the now-broken husk back out. So never mind those naff Dementors from Harry Potter with their girly kisses, Dusknoir makes a whole meal out of it. There’s always room for soul disembowelment on your team.


She’s a very low temperature cat is Froslass, and though I probably prefer the idea of a giant floating angry ice head called Glalie, I can respect Froslass’s style. Her Ice and Ghost typing makes me think of black ice on the road, that unseen killer. Skidding on this stuff definitely turns your trousers up; one minute you’re driving along at a decent clip, the next you really can feel the entire car go from under you, no grip at all, and it’s in the lap of the frosty gods where you’ll end up next and if you’ll get out of it in one piece. When you’re skidding along, spinning around and praying to all that you hold dear, you might just see Froslass’s impassive face lean out from behind a bush and titter at you – she’s chalked up another victim. In actual battle, Froslass is still her tricky icy self, ready to make foes go on their arse very quickly. I’d definitely consider Froslass as an underrated pick, she’ll look good out there for you.


I did have an awful lot of time for Rotom, pretty much up until he became a sentient Pokedex around the Sun & Moon days. From then on he kept pitching in incessantly, with stupid observations and that terribly whiny voice, reminding you of that nerd who just won’t go away. Strictly as a member of your team though, Rotom is pretty versatile – he can be an oven, a mower, a fan… what, you mean none of that is useful in combat? Maybe so, but perhaps one day instead of Wash Rotom, we’ll have Bazooka Rotom, and then he’ll be able to hold his own. Until then, I reckon the only reason to keep a Rotom on hand will be for him to breathe a bit of life into your knackered old applicances. Think of Rotom as a Google Home before such a thing existed – it can be quite handy to have a robo-kettle around, so lon as you don’t mind a little dweeb spying on you all day.


A member of the Lake Trio, and by the time you track it down you’ll want to drown it in that very lake. Uxie the pixie represents knowledge, and you know I always say that knowledge is the bomb. As such, let me impart some knowledge to you by telling you that you could never use any of these guaedians in battle. Their stats are competitive, don’t get me wrong, but you couldn’t sustain such an overwhelming lack of imagination and wit, not when Pokémon Weekly magazine have sent journalists along to watch your battling. Catch it for the novelty, and then forget all about it.


A member of the Lake Trio, and by the time you track it down you’ll want to freeze it under thay very lake. Mesprit the sprite represents emotion, which is probably something you could well do without in the midst of a Pokémon battle. Passion is fine, nothing wrong with that. Happiness or sadness after you win or you lose, that’s fine. But if your Pokemon’s just been knocked out and the opponent’s Chatot is calling you all the see-you-next-Tuesdays under the sun then you don’t need to get mad, which is bad – you need to get even. Mesprit’s not gonna help you with that, good stats and all that it has. Catch this thing and erase any memory you have of it.


A member of the Lake Trio, and by the time you track it down you’ll want to evaporate it, along with that lake. Azelf the elf represents willpower which is all you need. A dreadful thing, that willpower business. It’s always lacking when you need it most, and for any time that you do need it, it’s usually to help you along in some ridiculously arduous task, like No-Fap or not drinking. Maybe Azelf can keep you honest and be your running, drinking or fappimg partner, but after that it’s just another dump for stats and a bad attitude. Catch this thing and bleach your brain immediately.

To Be Continued!

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