#anyway I'm not against Jessie as a character I just don't think we need another interview

[fayevalcntine]

I don't actually want or need Lestat to do ANOTHER interview when season 3 comes around because after season 2 it'll become a tired format and the whole point about him writing his book within the saga is that he mostly wanted to tell HIS story. Is he full of bullshit at times? Yes but he's also pretty blatant about the stuff that happened and what he thought. And in a 600-page book we get like 4 pages' worth of information on his life with Louis and Claudia, and all he had to say about it was that Louis lied, but he doesn't specify which lies they were or even how many because he didn't really care about it by the end, because the facts that Louis was honest about were the important things to him. That they led a life together with Claudia and lived with each other for around 60 years.

There's also a much easier way to "challenge" his narration from the books by simply having the show establish itself with more than one main character and even establish what it will do with said characters. I honestly don't see the point in having Lestat be "challenged" by some other reporter or investigator, even if it's Jessie, because his reasons for telling his side aren't even remotely the same as the possible reasons why Louis seems to be doing his own interview with Daniel and frankly, if you need Lestat to be humbled, there's at least 50 different ways in which that could happen within the show without having to sit through another interview.

[some-pers0n]

Happy New Year!!

Fandom: TF2

Characters: Engineer, Medic

CW: Drinking. A lot of drinking.

Summary: It's New Years Eve and the pair decided to go out for a drink or two. Thirteen hours later and with the other mercs joining in as well, they're still at the bar. It's fun, definitely, but Engie can't help but feel something a bit...off when looking at Medic.

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: Violently sobbing and pounding my fist against the ground. I finally got to the part of my fic where this stupid chapter/scene happens. This has been rotting in my brain since December. Anyways, this is an excerpt from the most recent chapter of my longfic. You don't need to read it to understand anything. Enjoy.

Engie watched in awe as Medic pounded back his twenty-second glass of beer. By god it was impressive.

They'd been in here for a long while now. How long? To Engie, maybe an hour. But, he knew damn well it's been longer than that. He can see the light outside, or more accurately the lack thereof. They'd gotten here at ten and now it's deep into the night. He'd look at a clock, but things were rather hazy and hard to read now.

He wiped the residue from his lips. "Yet another one down, haha!!" he yelled. A quirky thing with him was how he lost any and all control of his voice the minute he got slightly intoxicated. Doesn't matter. The music's loud and Engie couldn't care less. The hangover and hearing loss was a problem for tomorrow.

Tonight? Why not have some fun? Relax. Kick his feet back and enjoy. He deserves it after all that nonsense back at the base. A nice full day out at the bar, bleeding the owner out of all of their supply.

Engie clapped in response. "Hell yeah! Number twenty-two! Think you could go fer another one?"

Medic bubbly giggled. His cheeks were rosy red and his face was fixed into a permanent smile. He looked so goddamn happy. Watching him was an experience all of itself, one that was elevated when the both of you are several drinks deep. Seeing him laugh like that made everything feel less important. Like the only thing that mattered was being with him.

...what the hell was that line of thought? It's what he was experiencing, definitely, but it was strange to think like that. That intense. Feelings. Hah. That's not what he should be thinking about right now. That just made things more confusing.

By the time the Engineer recollected himself, he noticed that Medic was rambling again. In German. He was going a mile a minute. Whatever he was saying was completely lost on Engie. He could barely understand English right now, much less this. The words slurred together into a homogenous slush of vowels and sharply pronounced consonants.

"Uh, doc? Doc?" He snapped his fingers a couple times.

"Und das ist der Grund– hm? Ja?"

"You're back in German mode again. I'd love to know what you're saying."

Medic clasped his mouth, feeling around. "Was I really?" he chuckled. His accent was more obvious than ever, though Engie didn't care. If anything, it was cute.

Engie joined in. "I'll drink to that." He raised his hand once more. "Jessie?"

"Another round?..." the bartender replied, a moderate amount of fear in his voice. "I've already served your booth over forty drinks–"

"Enough chat! I wish to see if I can beat my record time now." Medic rubbed his hands energetically. "Will you join me?"

He shrugged. "Why the hell not?"

Moments later, Jessie brought them more drinks. "Lovely night, I know, but I was wondering when you would both pay off your tab."

"Both? What about Py– Pyro?" Engie turned to see that they weren't there. Completely absent. Now that he thought about it, he couldn't remember seeing or hearing Pyro for a long while. Where'd he slip off to?

"Ahem, that's beside the point. It's getting close to midnight and I'm going to close up as soon as it happens."

Medic spat a little back into his drink. "Mh? What? You're going to kick us out?! What for? We are res– hic– responsible, you dummkopf!"

Jessie motioned to the rest of the bar. Engie saw that the place was trashed. Slashes and rips in the other booths. The floor was covered with beer and whiskey. A far cry from the clean and inviting atmosphere it once was hours earlier. The other mercenaries were loudly drinking and conversing, with the only one by himself being the Demoman at the piano. He was playing along with the jukebox, adding onto the keyboard section of whatever songs came on. It was a lovely addition if the Engineer was to be honest.

"I see nothing wrong with it," Engie said.

"It's been like this for thirteen hours. None of you have given me any money. Other patrons tried coming in only to be driven out."

"Sounds like their issue. Sorry that we can't help it." He shrugged. Medic snickered in response.

Jessie glared. "I'll have you know that I have been running this bar for–" He stopped to count on his fingers– "six years! I have a family to feed. It consists of me and only me. I'll have you know that I work very hard to get the right amount of lead and radiation in my brew–"

"Oh mein Gott!" Medic yelled, a wide smile on his face. "I love this song."

Engie raised his head to the radio, recognizing the tune instantly. Scout constantly played record after record from Tom Jones. It would be humiliating to not remember that snappy beat and trumpets from that song. "It's Not Unusual" was a neat little jig that he quite liked himself, though Medic seemed far more into it.

"I was talking–"

"Raus, schweinhunde." Medic pushed Jessie out of the way, getting up and over to the dance floor.

"What the hell's that idiot gonna do now?" Engie gave a light-hearted chuckle. He watched expectingly as his partner stood in the middle of it and began to snap along to the beat. He tapped his foot and began to sway back and forth.

He was dancing. He was imitating the signature Tom Jones moves. Pretty damn good as well, especially considering he's had over twenty lead-filled glasses of beer. He moved with grace, but also with enough of his own weirdness and off-beat charm. His own spin on this dance move. Engie sat there in constant silence, observing him.

Then, Medic looked back up. Eye contact. A flash in his eyes appeared for just long enough for Engie to know what he was about to do. Before he could get a word out, he spoke.

"Don't just sit there! Dance with me!"

"Oh, I dunno about that–"

"It'll be fun! Trust me." Medic approached him, holding out his hand. Engineer stared at it for a moment, considering his options.

Well, what's the worst that can happen? He grabbed it, instantly being yanked from the booth. He was dragged along to the floor, with Medic holding up both of his hands.

Engie was no stranger to dancing, especially with another person. One helluva dancer back in his university days. Could impress a whole group of girls (or boys for that matter) with his moves.

But, with Medic, it was a whole other beast. It was as though he'd been lobotomized. Any previous skill and technique he may have learned were just completely erased. At the mercy of whatever his partner had in store for him.

He stepped back, then to the left, back to the right two times. Engie followed along, slowly getting the hang of things. Didn't help that he was half a foot shorter, but he had fun regardless. It was a dance. It's not supposed to be proper and practical.

It must have gone on for a minute of this. "Ohoho! How exciting," he hummed as he repositioned his hand around his back, dipping the Engineer.

"Where the hell you learn to dance?" he asked, a coy smirk on his face.

He shrugged. "Nowhere! First time with a partner." Medic pulled him back right up, twisting him and then spinning him away. "That's what makes it fun, no?" he continued, doing his little dance now. He shook from side to side, shaking his arms in time.

Engie followed after him, doing similar upbeat and energetic moves. God, it knocked the wind out of him quite a bit, but he couldn't care. It was beyond magical. The sheer joy and happiness radiating from the two of them was unmatched. From the extra bit of piano from Demoman to the fact only they were dancing. It was a perfect moment.

Yet, as he looked at his partner, he couldn't help but feel something else. An odd twisting in his stomach. Could be from the beer, but usually they don't ache like this. It was a warm sensation, one that only grew more intense the longer he looked.

There was something off about himself, yet he couldn't quite rationalize what it may be. All he knew was that he was delighted to be around Medic.

Soon enough, the song ended, fading out. The radio host came back on. "Alright, folks, that was Tom Jones. Now, I haven't gotten a song up for you peppercats quite yet, but I'll have you know that right now it's approximately– hold on, lemme check my clock– fifteen seconds until midnight."

Medic straightened out, alert. "Mein Gott! I nearly forgot about the new year. Come, come, quickly! Raus! Everyone, together!" He grabbed Engineer by the side, pulling him closer. "Ten! Nine!"

The other mercs joined in, rushing over. "Eight! Seven! Six!"

They all looked towards the radio, huddled together. "Five! Four! Three! Two!... One!" Then, a jumbled cry of cheer saying, "HAPPY NEW YEAR!!"

The group began to clap. Soldier sang Auld Lang Syne along with the Demoman. Others clicked their drinks together. Engineer didn't have anything with him, but he had an idea. He fidgeted with his Gunslinger, switching the ring finger into a blowtorch. A warm blue flame erupted from the fingertips. He waved it around like a makeshift sparkler.

But, as he did so, some stray drops of whiskey and liquor from the other mercenaries' drinks flew at him, passing right through the fire. Without warning, they caught aflame. Mere seconds later, the burning spirit fell to the floor, spreading to the rest of the spilled drink. A fire started right before them.

On second thought, maybe the blowtorch wasn't that great of an idea.

"Oh, fire," Medic said absent-mindedly.

"Huh, that's new," Engie muttered. He wheezed, unable to control his laughter.

"Guess that's the cue to leave, ain't it?" Demo looked to the rest of them.

"I do believe yes. The fire has already spread to the whole bar. I argue this place has five minutes before it begins to care in. I'd rather not die here," Spy added, pressing a cigarette to his lips.

"Ight, let's book it." The Engineer shrugged. They turned around, Medic still clinging to his side. The burning inferno was the least of his worries as of now. He couldn't care less about it or the panicked screams and obscenities thrown at them by Jessie. I mean, it's just a bar. It burning down is nothing that bad.

"Did you do that?" Medic asked. Engineer noticed his weight becoming heavier, as he acted more like a crutch to Medic than anything else. His partner leaned on him, nearly tripping over his own feet as they stepped over the flaming puddles of beer.

"Think so."

He giggled. "Now we're talking!" They both exited the bar, walking into the parking lot. "Come on, Herr Engineer, do we have to go back to the base? Can't we just stay out? It's been forever since we've kidnapped somebody..." Medic's words were slurred and hard to hear.

"We've already been drinking for ages now, doc. Kinda just wanna go back home."

"Oh please! When has th– hic– that ever stopped anybody?"

"Christ, just how drunk are you?"

"I want to put myself in critical condition and barely still alive just so I can go to heaven and see God and spit in his face... Wouldn't that be funny?"

"...that answers that question." Engie was practically carrying Medic now. He was putting every bit of energy to keep him upright and from falling over.

Eventually, they came back to the car. Engie reached for his keys and tried the door, only to then see it rolled down out of nowhere. It gave him quite a fright, but he calmed down upon seeing who was in the driver's seat.

Pyro stared back at them, cocking his head to the side.

"Oh hey, smokes!" Engie grinned. "What are you doin' in here?"

Pyro covered his ears. "Mhh mhmn."

"Too loud? Can't blame you. God, I can already tell my ears are gonna be ringing like nothing else tomorrow."

"Who are you talking to?" Medic muttered. "Oh, hello, Herr Pyro." He waved. Pyro waved back.

"You mind drivin' us? I don't think I can walk straight, much less drive."

Pyro nodded repeatedly. He unlocked the back door, letting them in. Engie opened up the door and slid Medic off and guided him into the seat. "C'mon, it ain't that hard to sit down."

Eventually, Medic slipped into the car. Engie was about to close the door, only for Medic to tug on his arm. "Wait, don't leave me..."

Engineer paused. "What?"

He smiled back. Medic's eyes were cloudy and tired, yet full of life and joy. The toothy grin he gave was heartwarming in every way possible. A beam of light in the darkness of night.

"...oh, alright. I'll stay in the back with ya." Engie got into the back seat, closing the door. "Let's go, Pyro. Back to the base." He tapped on the headrest. Immediately, Pyro shifted it into reverse, jerking the car back before then driving off.

"Woa– oah!" Medic stumbled, recovering from such movement. He snickered and laughed. "Mein Gott, I'm so drunk right now..."

"I know, I know," Engie said calmly and relaxed. "Once we get home, I'm going to bed."

"No afterparty? Nothing?"

"Nah... I already have enough today." He glanced back at Medic. "Thanks for doing this. I really needed some time out."

"Mh? Oh, that was nothing, hehe." He waved his hand dismissively.

Engie felt his stomach tighten into a knot while looking at him. He still didn't understand what he was feeling. This was odd. He knew he'd experienced this sort of thing before, but couldn't remember where or how. It was pleasant though. Through all of this confusion, he knew that this was a good feeling.

The car ride grew silent. The calming droning noise of the engine humming while the wind blew by put Engie at ease. Some peace and quiet after all of that chaos at the bar. A little time to sit and think.

Issue was that thinking hurts to do. His head ached and his throat burned. His ears stung and his stomach churned. He was going to have to deal with the hangover of a lifetime in a bit. Sounds thrilling.

Yet, he couldn't care about that enough. He was still preoccupied with this strange feeling towards Medic. It wasn't just tonight that it happened. He recalled several times before when something like this bubbled up within him. This giddiness from being near him. This want to stay with him. What was it? What...what is it–

Right in the middle of his train of thought, Engie felt Medic lean against him. He looked back to see that his eyes were closed. Moments later, he was snoring and his neck rolled to the side. His head rested on him.

He was so close. So near to him. So warm. So cozy. It was right to be with him.

That's when it hit him. It was as though he sobered up in three seconds as the realization hit him. All it took was for his partner to sleep on him for him to finally get what he was feeling for that fog of confusion to clear up.

This was something different than being friends. Something that Engie had not felt for another person in a number of years.

Looked at Medic. He was so peaceful and cute. The way his glasses were slightly askew and his breathing was slow and relaxing. He could even feel the faint thumping of his heart.

Engie slid his right hand behind Medic, bringing him into a hug. He couldn't deny it any longer. Everything about him was perfect. He was the chaotic whirlwind that complemented his eccentricities. He was the odd madman that truly got what it was like to be an artist by using the sciences. He was the only other one to see his cold, dead heart and not be immediately disgusted. He was happy around him. He was free to do anything with him. He was himself at his absolute best.

He loved Medic. With all of his heart, he loved him.

[my-mt-heart]

With the completion of Leah's story arch, I find it rather clumsy that this entire thing seemingly was built, as we all believed for so long, to show the juxtaposition between Carol & Leah, only to have it run smack into the point & then, not miss it, but gloss over it entirely. I'm normally not one to be unnecessarily critical of the writers, unless there's a glaring misstep (Andrea's character assassination S3, Rick's weird Shane parallel where he became fixated on Jessie overnight, their absolute bananas choice to kill poor Carl), but this seemed, for the longest time, like it was building up to something.

This entire thing, beginning with 'Find Me', seemed like a way to get Carol back on board with sticking around & coming to terms with her grief & recognition of her own value. Catalyst obviously being an, albeit harsh wakeup call from Daryl. Daryl finally expressed his frustration with her seemingly pathologic need to throw herself into the fire, time & time again, forsaking who she is, her peace(long term, given her history of inability to reconcile the amount of blood on her hands), & her safety, along with the safety of others was something she needed to hear. It was hard to watch, but necessary.

"You don't know when to stop" was a big deal for me, because, love her as much as I do, Daryl was right. Watching acknowledge what he was saying only for her rage & need for vengeance take over multiple times was heartbreaking.

Anyway, a whole half season later, after Daryl takes pity on Leah & allows her to escape, because he obviously acknowledges history there & he's not a cold blooded killer, we're met with Leah re-entering the picture to... Exact revenge on those who have wronged her, with her morality in question for doing so.🤷 Don't get me wrong, I'm incredibly glad Daryl didn't try to "save" Leah(no one needs another redemption arch no one asked for 🙄). But I do feel like this somehow cheapens Carol's struggle by making her appear less morally ambiguous for her crusade against The Whisperers.

And low-key, it kinda almost smells, overall like, "women bad for have emotions/anger, man good for try & man arbiter of 'good'). Sorry, idk. I feel like I can find misogynistic undertones in almost everything & I, too, am exhausted by it. 😂

Idk, you should prob tell me to get fucked. Am I insane?

(Yes. But also?)

Girl. I am 100% with you on Leah's arc. There was so much potential to turn something dark and upsetting into something beautiful for Daryl, Carol, and Caryl, but alas it got botched which breaks my heart. Along with yours, I also just responded to an ask where I get into the "how's" and "why's" and "what now" of it all, so I won't bother to do it again here.

I know the word "misogyny" gets people up in arms, but I don't think it's bad or insane to point out those undertones because they are there. That is NOT to accuse the writers or even the viewers of being misogynistic, but it is a fact that the women on the show get treated differently. Rick, Daryl, and Eugene make mistakes, the audience/other characters get pissed at them in the moment, but then they do something heroic to make up for it and get back in everyone's good graces. Michonne, Carol, and Maggie make mistakes, the audience/other characters get pissed at them but! Will not. Let it. Go. They get reduced to those mistakes and they have to do a hell of a lot of work just to move forward. It's very frustrating.

[theangrypokemaniac]

Sinnoh has massive flaws as an era, although it's starting to feel like the good old days compared to the present piss-poor offerings.

The major drawback is the amount of 'recurring characters', ones not good enough to be in it fully, but inflicted upon us nevertheless.

I did care about Ash. I did care about Team Rocket.

I was prepared to care about The Misty Replacement, as in the girl shipped with Ash.

I was prepared to care about The Brock Replacement, that is the older brother figure who does all the cooking, carries the medicine, and knows about Pokémon.

I don't give a toss about extras who outstay their welcome.

Hoenn only had Drew and Harley. What was wrong with that?

There are just too bloody many.

Why does Dawn require so many opponents, as if she's of the greatest importance? Why won't Jessie suffice?

I accept the necessity of Paul as The Rival, and we were at least permitted to resent him initially, before the writers fanboy'd like there was no tomorrow.

I admit I liked two of them. They therefore featured the least.

Typical.

Nando

The Blondel of Iberia

A softly-spoken, raven-locked troubadour, roaming the many pathways of life, playing his songs for those weary travellers he encounters on the road.

He's wearing a cloak! The finest use of material to ever be invented!

All this ethereal grace considering the dub lumbered him with the most appallingly unsuitable name possible.

It could've been Raphael, or Dante, or Leonardo.

Oh no, let's name him after a restaurant chain. That adds gravitas.

His lyre pays tribute to Mew, because Nando knows she's The Rarest Of All Pokémon, thus refuses to be impressed by any deformed horse like Arceus throwing its weight around.

Damn straight.

Ursula

A pretty girl with lovely clothes and the spark of a proper personality.

You're not wanted round these parts, love.

I have no particular animosity towards Dawn, but it irritates me how the world revolves around her whims, where if she's lost in the woods, it's a major disaster, and if an attack heads in her direction, she must be protected in case she shatters.

It makes a refreshing change to find someone firmly inoculated against the lures of the temptress.

Also, alongside Ursula from Dinosaur King (the real Jessie), I'm glad of any attempt to reclaim that name, considering most of my generation, upon hearing it, think only about evil old octopus women.

As for the rest?

It's that bad I prefer the Unova bunch to these.

Reggie

Reggie is even more of a knob than Paul. As above, being Ash's enemy meant that, if only by narrative, he was intended to be somewhat disliked.

Not Reginald. No, he's the kind one.

Oh really?

When Ash and Paul have their showdown, Reg starts wittering that it's just as well Chimchar took up with Ash, since he wasn't suited to Paul's 'battle style'.

Battle style.

Is the what he calls mental and physical cruelty?

In Reg's amoral cesspit of a mind, there is no right and wrong, so do whatever you feel.

Reggie is quite aware of how his brother tortures Pokémon, and not only is he unconcerned, he excuses it with euphemism, hoping the audience will obligingly forget too.

What's more, he implies it's Chimchar's fault for not pulling his weight, and Paul abandoning him was the compassionate thing to do.

Cynthia

Suffering severe Bridge Nose Syndrome.

She may be Champion, but I don't remember Lance turning up all the time where he wasn't wanted.

She doesn't even use her influence properly. Rather than give it straight to Paul, order him to shape up and stop spanking the monkey, she fannies about with her cod mysticism, emptily preaching about how Ash and Paul are spiritually linked, with magical, beeyewteefull events taking form just because they met.

That's right, don't bother about Paul clearly being a psychopath, for 'tis ART!

It's the same as trying to convince me that Ash, Dawn and Brock were the Divine Trio because they all saw Something Nasty In The Lake District, as if they have an intrinsic bond foretold in ancient prophecy.

The writers pull this knowing two thirds of the Holy Trinity, plus Paul the Fallen Angel, will be leaving, at which point we'll be expected to stop being overawed at the great majesty they all apparently possess and transfer allegiance to their usurpers.

What's the point?

Angie

Yet another smackhead from that lunatic stare.

What shining genius decided giving all the characters contracted pupils was a good idea?

She looks like one of those kids whose parents dealt with nits the traditional way:

Shaving the entire head and painting it purple.

A barnet resembling privet hacked at by a paralytic gardener before he conked out.

I've seen her arc three or four times, and I still remember nothing about her, except for the amazing skill she possesses to make Ash sneeze on command from a distance.

Conway

One word: nonce.

A clichéd weirdo fitting into Pokémon's Four-Eyed Freaks fixation, where anyone with a slight visual impairment is a weedy, know-it-all bastard or on a register.

Oh yes, and this lad comes with hidden delights, because his glasses gleam like a giant cockroach, just in case he wasn't creepy enough.

Zoey

The human black hole. Has the incredible ability to suck all the joy out of a room just by appearing. A personage of absolute lead.

Too nice and over familiar, lacking a single detectable personality trait.

Bland, empty, and with the charisma of vomit-sodden cardboard.

Sinnoh is a prolonged saga as it is, padded with nonentities like her and Kenny.

Alright, episodes must be devoted to Dawn's Contest career, however tiresome it is, but why exactly do we need any about Zoey and Kenny? Why should we care?

Every time I sat through a competition Dawn lost, I resented that she was no further along on her quest, equating to another episode eaten away by this shallow, blackened hymn to superficiality.

Compare this indulgent treatment to the sneering disrespect shown to Jessie, an actual main character, who not only had to win her Ribbons practically off screen, but the writers delighted in hammering home how worthless she was in only scraping into the Grand Festival because Princess Salvia took pity on the deluded wretch.

They favour their own inventions over the original cast, then dump 'em as soon as the next generation arrives, so how could they ever matter if even the creators eagerly cast them aside?

After all the effort on my part to put up with the entire witless farce, Zoey beats Dawn in the finals!

Why?!

I understood the unspoken law of Ash not being allowed to win a League until the very last series, for fear whatever came after would be anticlimactic, but why should this deadening failure apply to May and Dawn?

By the culmination of the Contest rigmarole, it's obvious they'll be making their exit for the next region's Girl, so why couldn't either bid farewell to the fans with a victory?

Why must they be incompetent too?

Even if achieving their dream dampened any hunger to carry on, they're departing anyway, so what difference does it make?

At least Ash will continue, but for May and Dawn, it's the end.

How could any fan be satisfied with a smarmy vacuum of a creature like Zoey succeeding instead?

Barry

Eyes of molten evil.

The second-worst character ever created (Iris is top of the ranks), Barry is a smug, arrogant, screeching dweeb jabbering his oh-so endearing catchphrase about fining anyone who slightly irks him, so sure is he that his feelings should come above everyone else's

He truly believes he has a God-given entitlement to demand lesser lifeforms should arrange themselves to suit his pleasure, that they are morally compelled to shield him from  meagre inconvenience.

Twat.

Knocking the little geck out of the League was the most noble thing Paul ever did. It practically redeems him.

This is what I cannot comprehend:

Ursula is openly conceited, rude to Dawn, and brags about her own excellence even after losing.

We're asked to dislike her.

Barry slags Ash off constantly, is convinced of his own divinity, and jeers at Team Rocket.

We're supposed to see him as a 'good guy' and welcome his arrival.

Why? Are Ash and Team Rocket fair game, but offending Saint Dawn's intolerable?

Again, it astounds me how temporary, region-specific stars seem to count for more than those who've been here since the beginning.

Whilst they're here, that is. Once gone, you wouldn't know they'd existed.

Kenny

He wears a matador outfit to compete.

It's a crying shame Tauros was never given the opportunity to gore him.

As usual, it's Piplup I blame.

Each generation likes to flaunt the starter Pokémon, presumably in the hope of flogging more games, that's why Ash usually catches all three, or they're spread out amongst his friends.

It's about time Team Rocket had one.

Can't do that, they only appear five times per series now.

Piplup is a whiny attention whore who refuses to evolve. In consequence, he can't advertise the next stages in the evolution chain, so we have to keep seeing Barry and Kenny instead, that's why Empoleon and Prinplup are always walking about.

This equates to three characters having the same Pokémon, albeit in different incarnations.

There's variety.

However, Kenny's true purpose is much more grim than that.

Fans will ship Ash with The Girl, a useless endeavour when it's destined to come to nothing when she's kicked out.

In Hoenn and Sinnoh, an effort was made to wean shippers off in preparation for the upcoming split, so alternative suitors were introduced, with the girls effectively pushed on to them.

May got Drew.

I don't mind that. He had some refinements.

Dawn got Kenny.

...

What, you want me to cheer for such a revolting couple?

Have I not suffered enough?

What unpardonable crime did Dawn do to deserve such a horrible fate?

She's not a bad-looking girl. She can do better than an ugly, portly, shrunken, pie-faced cretin! 

You do this to me when Nando exists?

Sod the age gap, that never concerned anyone here.

This being the Kenny who spends four years belittling Dawn by constantly reminding her of a humiliating childhood experience, even giving her a nickname too!

Dawn is visibly distressed when he does this, but he's a fine candidate for romance?

She has to settle for a sweaty, lecherous herbert like him, who doesn't even try to atone for his unfortunate mug by being kind?

I suspect the whole Sinnoh adventure was really him wearing down her self-esteem until she believed he was the best available, wanting her to be grateful for his slobbery attentions.

It won't stop there either. He'll trap her for the rest of her life by isolating her from friends, followed by accusations of how undeserving she is of his 'love'.

Such is Dawn's lot: absent father, pushy mother, whinging penguin and abusive boyfriend.

Kenny's already a perv:

He's not looking at her face.

She knows he's not.

Ash and Pikachu have noticed an interesting feature further down.

Aipom likes it too.