“Bukachu, I choose you!” I come spinning from the cramp space of my pokéball, wondering about the technology of Time Lords and why the answer to Life’s ultimate question is 42. As my eyes adjust to the soft light of the room, I search for my trainer to provide my utmost attention. My special skill is listening after all. Nobody has time to fight and all when most situations can be resolved by a good listener.
My ears perk up as I locate my trainer Goshawk Suasible sitting in a chair with a sad look it their eyes. They try to use their hair to hide this feature, but too slowly. Time to get to work.
“What’s up? What’s wrong?” I am in questioning mode. I love questions. They drive conversation and they teach. That is, if you ask they right questions. I’m still in training however, so I don’t always ask the right questions. Sometimes I give the wrong responses, but that’s why I’ve got Goshawk. Their job is to correct me when I’m wrong.
The conversation is strained. I try to push the conflict from my trainer, but they resist tirelessly. How am I supposed to help if I don’t know all of the details? I drill my questions. Trying to penetrate the invisible dome surrounding my trainer. I will get to the bottom of this. I will help rid the conflict and emotional stress from them.
There is a craze look that appears in my trainer’s eyes. A foreign look? I give them a confused look in return as I settle myself into a more comfortable position on the floor. Maybe if I look relaxed, they will relax? It’s worth a try. I attempt to guess what has come over my trainer. Hmm….hunger? Relationships? School work? What is preoccupying their mind?
These questions all flow from my brain as I try to register what is happening now. Goshawk seems to become a blur as they launch themselves at me. Shocked, I have no time to react properly. I become pinned to the ground as Goshawk....tickles me. It is my greatest weakness. One I try desperately to hide from all I meet so I may upkeep my reputation from a stone-like listener that reacts properly. In this moment I feel my strength leaving. The tickling continues. Ceaselessly. Tickling. Maniacally laughing. Wild eyes. The world is blurring.
I need to find shelter. I need a reprieve from this tickling torture. A bed lies to the left of me. Desperately I throw myself away from the tickling and under the bed. Goshawk growls and laughs as I scramble to place distance between me and them. I can’t help but release a whimper as I rush to collect my thoughts. What question was the trigger? Did I talk too much? Was it National tickle Bukachu Day??
The situation is laughable. I am a whirlwind of laughter, whimpering, and teary eyes. Goshawk is in the same situation, but without the whimpering. One good thing has come from this self- entrapment, Goshawk seems happier. Less distracted. Like their usual self. That makes me laugh even more. Not out of ridicule but out of pure happiness. That is all I want to do. Make people happy.
Mission accomplished. Price: my dignity. Oh well, there is always more dignity of collect. It is a miniscule price to pay for the truest of true friendships. I’ve got your back Goshawk Sausible and I know you always have mine. Buka-buka-bukachu!
Super metaphor out. This is for you my real life Goshawk.