Not sure if you’ve seen it yet, but there’s a trailer for that film about pokemon, Detective Pikachu, aka most peculiar movie ever made, and it is - playing to type - also extremely peculiar.
Nonsense, absolute nonsense. But, like, beautiful nonsense?
Look at all the Pokemon there, loads of them, all walking about and doing fire and jumps - it’s a veritable banquet of pokemon. But let’s ask the important questions, shall we - namely the singular most essential one: which one of the ones of them would you want to go and have a sodding pint with?
Well, here they are, ranked in order of “no, I would absolutely not have a pint with this monstrosity” to “Yeah go on then”:
(Disclaimer - this isn’t ALL the pokemon in the trailer, because some are just glimpsed very briefly - I’ve stuck with the main ones here. Like, do you want to be here forever? Reading about pokemon? If so, I’m sorry)
Imagine walking into The George with a whacking great charizard by your side - good one! A nice, crisp pint, rendered undrinkable by Charizard’s hot breath. Any chance of a quiet evening absolutely shot to bits because of his unreasonable and temperamental nature - you’ve not sat down five minutes before you’re outside in the car park getting nutted by some bruiser that’s just had a hole burnt into the arse of his jeans by your “mate” because he looked at him for too long.
Charizard himself is fine, of course - you’re the one with the bent nose - he always is. Doesn’t even get the trots because of the dodgy shish later on - he eats everything burnt. Real piece of work.
I don’t like this ungodly abomination. I don’t like the way it looks, or moves and I particularly don’t like its uncanny eyes. Imagine that freak staring into your soul over a Guinness, imagine actually trying to get a single sip of that down your neck without seizing up like you’ve hit a sudden state of conscious rigor mortis. No chance, mate. And besides, imagine how stilted the conversation’s going to be with this attention-seeker jumping up to pat an imaginary wall every five seconds.
Just look at this definite murderer:
I hate you, Mr Mime, please go away - I haven’t even touched this pint. Your company is unsettling to a degree I have never experienced, and you are making this entire pub feel extremely nervous with your massive (bulbous?) fingers. God, I can still see you when I close my eyes.
Psyduck means well, but Lord Above does he bang on about his headaches all the time. I get it, you’ve got a migraine, but I’m trying to have a drink here, it’s been a tough day, we all get them. Drink your beer, mate, it’ll help - things will be worse tomorrow, sure, but at least I won’t be around to soak up all your incessant moaning. I’m not your therapist.
In fact, it’s probably best to let Psyduck take a rain-check - last time you went out for a sesh he got such a big headache it sent you flying all the way through the bar and into the kitchen. Snapped your collarbone. Not worth the effort, the whining old daisy.
I would have thought a few shandies with a Jigglypuff would’ve been a treat, but by the looks of this huffy little madam, I’d say it can shove it - I ain’t sitting opposite a sore quiff like that. I go to the pub for fun, to catch up, swap stories, not indulge an angry yellow hacky-sack that has the power to knock me out with one song. Enjoy karaoke, you little baby!
I don’t think a pint is time to be cutesy, and although Pikachu appears much higher up this list (he’s an exception, leave him alone - leave him alone), those wet farty Morelulls are just a bit too self-consciously twee for my liking. Bringing down the atmosphere, being all high-pitched and blinky - you’re in a pub to unload in many ways, and the large, glistening eyes of a flying squirrel are not what I need at this juncture, you poor-man’s Pikachu.
Sometimes it’s nice to have a pint on your own, isn’t it? Sit by a nice fire in a pub somewhere, all warm and nice - it’s lovely, try it.
As such, a morelull would be the perfect companion - just floating there, ambient lights emanating from its translucent mushroom caps, periodically releasing soothing spores to help you relax. Sounds pretty good, if you ask me.
Only thing is: not really having a pint “with” them, are you? More like having a pint “in front of” them, so it doesn’t really count - I don’t ever tell people I had a pint with the whole tube carriage.
The good thing about Dodrio is that going for a pint with one is like going for a pint with three other people. Each one of dodrio’s heads has a distinct personality, so you can get a right good debate going. Just have a proper chat about stuff - get advice from three mates, for the price of one. Yep, you’ve only gotta buy one pint because they’ve only got one stomach so you don’t need to shell out for a massive round when it’s your turn.
Only thing is, the night will 100% descend into an argument. Those three, always getting on each other’s wicks, pecking and prodding - you’ll have a right old barney on your hands with this trio of belligerent long-necks. If you think you can handle having to split up a giant ostrich getting in a fight with itself, then more for you, but I reckon it’d get a bit tiresome after a while. All over the last pork scratching, too! Grow up.
Charmander is nice and cute, ain’t he? One of the OGs, you’d have a lot to talk about - he just seems like a lovely little dude. Like, I’m not sure how he fares on the intelligence front - he might not be one for getting into the seven-pint-deep existential stuff, but the pair of you could happily burn some napkins with his tail and stuff.
And Lord knows that burning stuff in pubs is a laugh. Singeing the corner of your train tickets over a candle, melting the wax onto your finger and peeling it off, running your hand through the flame and going “It doesn’t even hurt, look!” - think of the fun you could have with a burning dragon tail. Bye-bye receipts! Nice knowing you!
Squirtle is a bit like Charmander, but a little less likely to get you thrown out. Sure, if you want a a big belting sesh, then Charmander razzing it about burning off everyone’s eyebrows is a right laugh, but if you just fancy a couple of swifties in an old man pub, then you’re better off with Squirtle. Again, much like his fiery cousin, it’s a waste of time trying to get him to engage in anything approaching an adult conversation, but at least you know he’ll be there for you. Just a good mate, is squirtle; and as a bonus, if you’ve had “a bit much”, then he’ll be on hand to swiftly sober you up with an icy jet of water directly into the middle of your face, you big mess.
Also you can rest your pint on his back, for a joke, the little idiot.
Bulbasaur has all the traits of his younger cousin above, but is the teenage version, which means you can talk about rude things like sex and also have a fag or something else cool. Just looks like he could put ‘em away, too, does a bulbasaur - really neck the living wheat out of those pints - so you’ve not got to worry about having to call it early because he’s banged his head on a chair leg or accidentally wandered into the women’s toilets. You can go drink-for-drink with old Bulb-head, the wide hippo piss-head.
Obviously it’s Pikachu, you insurgent. Especially if we’re going on the version of Pikachu in this trailer, because he can talk properly, so you can actually engage with him. I know I mentioned about the conversing-potential of the pokemon above, but in any scenario there’s always the chance that after saying “So what should I do about my relationship, then? I’m not sure she loves me anymore…” you’d simply be met with “PPSSSYYYY DUUUCK! PPSSSSSYYY DUCCCKKK!!”, which is altogether entirely unhelpful.
At least Pikachu would be able to tell you that no, she doesn’t love you anymore, because you never see her anymore, because you keep going to the pub with tiny animals and forcing them to drink beer, you crazed lunatic.
The film’s out May 10 2019, don’t take a charizard to the cinema with you, you’ll ruin it for everyone.