A story of Pokemon

Did you said pokemon?

"Welcome to this peaceful and encounter-filled world, full of colorful and cute creatures, named Pokemon (fortunately, this is a fanfiction; otherwise, you-know-who's lawyers would be after me). I am the narrator of this story and, to make the immersion easier, I will take on the voice of Morgan Freeman. Hmm, how much I loved him in Our Universe.

Well, let's begin our adventure in the world of Pokemon Red... no, wait, rather Blue... or maybe Yellow? I have a hard time telling them apart... but you know what? Let's merge them; they all look the same after all. In all three cases, the rule is the same: beat... uh, I mean capture, yes, that's it, capture Pokemon.
Alright, now that everything is ready and you just clicked 'New Game,' your adventure can finally begin. Gotta catch 'em all!"

In a large laboratory, with test tubes and highly sophisticated gadgets, a door opened and a young boy with black hair, wearing a white shirt and black pants, entered the lab.

"Ah, finally you’re here, Red." The voice came from the back of the laboratory. It belonged to a middle-aged man, around 50 years old. He was starting to get gray hair and was wearing a white lab coat.

"Red? You call me to your lab and you’ve already forgotten my name? Great." The young boy didn’t seem thrilled to be there. He had known the professor since his early childhood and had great admiration for him, especially for his fantastic gadgets. But the older he got, the less that admiration remained.

"Oh really? Then maybe Blue," said the professor, who hadn’t turned around even once.

Sparks were flying from his workstation.

"Not Red, nor Blue, it’s Ash! My name is Ash!" the young boy retorted furiously.

"Ah, Ash! Well, that’s not a very original name," said the professor, who had turned around and was now staring the young boy in the eyes while stroking his chin. "You know, my dear Ash," he continued, "I have the feeling I’ve heard that name somewhere before."

"Yeah, yeah," the boy said nonchalantly, "my name might not be original, but it's mine and I'm keeping it." He finished his sentence with a hint of defiance. It's fair to say that little Ash had some character—not a lot, but still some.

"No need to get worked up like that, Ash. I was joking! It was just a joke," retorted the professor, smiling as he scratched the back of his head.

Ash sighed, then said, "I guess you didn't call me just to make a remark that only Nintendo fans would get."

"Nin–what? Dammit, Ash, can you stop breaking the fourth wall for once? You're bothering our readers here. Where was I? Yes, tell me, Ash, do you know what a Pokemon is?"

"Oh, you mean those cute creatures created by capitalist lobbies to make as much money as possible off naive and especially nostalgic people, spanning several generations with increasingly disappointing evolutions? Or the video game created by Satoshi Tajiri that encourages young kids to run away from home to become poachers?"

"Yes, that's it... Well, no, not entirely, and who is this Satoshi? Aren't you feeling feverish lately?"

"You asked me if I knew what a Pokemon was. I just answered you," Ash said, folding his arms. He was visibly starting to get tired.

"Nonsense, you ramble too much," the professor said, waving his hand. "And how is it that a young boy like you can be so talkative? Anyway, how old are you again, my dear Ash?"

"What's the point of knowing my age? I've been wondering what all this is about, professor."

"Argh, my dear Ash, why are you so bitter? But if you don't want to tell me, it's fine. It's not like I didn't take care of you when you were often sick as a child", the professor muttered, whining.