(xylophone music)
- Hey, who's in charge of this dump?
- Oh! Welcome to our Pokemon center.
We heal your Pokemon back to perfect health-
- Yeah, yeah. I've heard the spiel.
There's something wrong with my Snorlax. Fix him.
- Oh dear! What seems to be the problem?
- Let's just say
the big guy's not pulling his weight in battles.
(rimshot) (laughs)
Wordplay.
- Well don't worry sir, we have Dr. Chansey on the case.
- Chansey, Chansey.
- Eurgh, so cute I could puke.
(beeping)
(exhales)
- Come on, you tangy butt nuts.
You've been at this for hours.
Give me some ideas as to what's wrong
with this furry vacuum cleaner.
- Well, his breathing seems to be a little labored.
Maybe he accidentally ingested some spores
in a battle against a Foongus.
- Oh, that's a good idea,
that I already had while taking my morning constitution,
and was the first thing I tested him for.
Out! - Okay.
- Take a lap! Come back when you're less stupid.
Next.
- Ah, ah.
- While we're still young, genius.
- His reflexes seem to be
on the level of a Slowpoke right now.
Maybe he was hit with a Thunder Fang,
and is still feeling some residual effects of paralysis.
- Well, if it was Thunder Fang,
there'd be evidence of a bite mark somewhere on his body.
Did you find one?
- No.
- No? You know what that means.
- Take a lap? (scampering)
- Well, at least you've got that right.
(keys clattering)
There's gotta be something we're missing.
You, sweaty intern. You weigh this guy yet?
- Yes, sir. His weight came in at 780 pounds.
- 780 Pounds?
That's way underweight for a Snorlax.
What, is that little twerp starving him? Hang on a sec.
- Now, you doing anything after you get off work?
- Aren't you like 10 years old?
- 10 and three quarters, sweety.
(phone rings)
- Oh, thank God!
Hello?
- [Dr. Chansey] (indistinct).
- Yes, he's right here.
- [Dr. Chansey] (indistinct).
- I'm not sure.
- [Dr. Chansey] (indistinct).
- Okay, I'll ask him.
Dr. Chansey would like to know
what you've been feeding your Snorlax?
- Oh, er, you know, organic berries,
non-GMO puffins,
farm-to-table curry.
You know, the good stuff.
Only the best for my best buddy Snorlax (laughs).
- Ugh! Farm-to-table, my pink, cuddly sphincter.
He's obviously lying,
but Snorlax doesn't show any signs of malnourishment.
So he's not starving him. What am I missing here?
(thudding)
Wait a minute.
(groans)
What the hell is this?
(groans)
Oh my God.
- Yes, yes, of course, Doctor. Right away.
The doctor will see you in Exam Room 4.
- Finally. Took you med school dropouts long enough.
(howling)
Hello! Anyone here?
Maybe it's a coffee break or something.
(door slams)
- Someone's been a bad, bad trainer.
- What?
- Took me a while to figure it out.
I wouldn't have expected something so fucked up
from a preteen.
- I don't know what you're talking about, man.
- I'm talking about you, you little shit stain.
Force-feeding Snorlax so many Rare Candies
that he's developed type 2 diabetes.
- What? That's crazy! You're crazy!
Do you even know how expensive Rare Candies are these days?
(thudding) Arrgh.
(bat tapping)
Okay. Okay. I admit it. I fed him the Rare Candies.
I tried training him the regular way, I really did,
but all the big idiot wanted to do
was eat and sleep all the time.
So I thought if I stuffed full of nothing but Rare Candies,
I could skip all that boring stuff
and level him up in no time.
- Trainers like you make me sick.
You don't even understand the most basic fucking principle
of Pokemon training,
that it's not a Pokemon's stats or level,
but the bond between the Pokemon and the trainer,
the mutual love and respect they share,
that makes a Pokemon strong.
And if you try and find shortcuts or easy ways out,
in the end, you'll only have cheated yourself.
And in this case, given your Pokemon a chronic disease.
- (sobbing) Look, you're right. You're totally right.
I'm sorry. Okay.
I promise I'll never do it again.
- Oh, I'm going to make sure of that.
- And if the glucose meter
shows that your blood sugar levels are low,
you hit that button there to give you a unit of insulin.
- Snorlax.
- That must be your trainer. Welcome back.
Your Snorlax is ready to go.
(groans)
Did you Have a good chat with Dr. Chansey?
- Um. Uh-huh. Uh-huh.
- Well that's wonderful.
(whooshing)
We hope to see you again soon.
- (exhales) Punk ass bitch.
(door slams)