There he is. Today on A Look into the Wild, we will be studying this elusive and nomadic specimen in his natural environment. It is six in the morning. Notice his messy appearance: tufts of brown hair sticking up in seven different places and his messy pajamas doing little to protect him from the forces of nature. His empty eyes are practically glued to the small phone that he holds so gingerly in his hands. He walks and walks with no end in sight, moving his black device in every direction as if hunting for his prey, then suddenly! He digs his nose closer to his phone and exclaims a word that seems like it’s from a foreign language—“peek at you,” I’ve managed to decipher—and vigorously swipes on the screen. After what seems like an hour of frustration, he finally rejoices, almost dropping his phone in the process. He pretends like no one saw that, but nature is always watching. This is just one of the many actions that makes this species so enthralling to observe. Follow me on my journey to chronicle the habits of this special case which we have now classified as Pokémonus Gorida.
Fast forward a few hours later when the sun is beaming down and our subject has emerged from his habitat. “Dan,” as we have nicknamed him, looks much more prepared than before, donning a black backpack and shorts that seem comfy and easy to wear. Later on, we learn that his bag contains a portable charger, Oreos, and Mountain Dew: the staple diet of this rare organism. Dan leaves his familiar home and resumes his search from earlier. Only five minutes later, Dan stumbles upon fellow members of his species. Finally! This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to get a glimpse into the mating habits of this biological breakthrough. But wait: what’s happening? Dan makes a noise in this guttural language of his. “You mist tick,” he says and gestures to the other specimens. They grunt with a quick “Val hur” and run away from him. Whatever we have witnessed, this unorthodox courting ritual of sorts, has left our subject despondent. Interesting.
Still, Dan treks onward, stopping, swiping, and starting from destination to destination. His emotions fluctuate from pure happiness to unfiltered anger as he periodically lifts his head up from his device in elation or anguish. Come to think of it, his ability to even wield such a tool says leagues about the intelligence of his species as a whole, but then again, Dan’s behavior, ranging from running into stop signs and tripping on nothing, says otherwise. The sun slowly starts to set, and Dan finally rests on a bench, starting intently at the fountain in front of him. What is his next move? Will he jump in it? Will he attack it? No. He returns to his phone and taps furiously, occasionally holding down his paw. Peculiar. Minutes pass, and he shouts into the air—“Four mist tick!”—momentarily attracting the attention of the few passerby around him. However, his sudden outburst is masked by a horde of Pokémonus Gorida yelling and migrating towards a spot only a hundred meters away.
Intrigued, we see Dan pick up his bag and lumber over there in excitement, but he is not the only eager one. This is a sight to behold: tens of this wild species gather, all wielding a phone in hand, a true testament to their mastery of this tool. They frantically search their surroundings before finally, one—a burlier, hairier version wearing a flannel shirt and jean shorts—roars, “Snore lacks.” I am confused, yet enamored. Snore lacks? Are they sleepy? It must be a primeval instinct as all of them turn and stampede to their Flannel Overlord. In the chaos, our camera team and I have to abandon the documentary, or we will be their next meal. Dan is nowhere to be found, but rest assured, I believe that he has found his new home.
Tune in next week where we showcase our latest discovery: a more primitive and developmentally stunted species categorized as Trumpus Supportica.