[A new writer practicing their craft. No golden finger, travel story, lighthearted tone, ordinary team, a world full of admirers, one heroine, anime setting]
Smeargle, the greatest painter of all time. My eyes are the measuring stick!
You say my Camouflage, which lets me change my type at will, is illegal? How could I not know what kind of environment I'm painting?
Spore, Thunder Wave, and I like to sprinkle a little poison around when I get the chance.
I'm clearly only using things they teach at the academy. Putting opponents in a bad state during battle makes them easier to beat.
So why do all the Trainers who battle me call me “baby”?
Flowers, birds, eggs, machines, swamps, steel; tiger big bro, ape little bro, the great ugly bully.
How could these simple, unassuming, friendly Pokemon possibly be the powerhouses you claim they are!
