Being a single man, Skippy wouldn’t say that he returned home to a family every night. However, when he’s out on business trips that require his Pokemon to remain at home, he doesn’t have the heart to insist they they stay inside their Pokeballs for the entire duration that he is away. It’s also during times like these that Skippy feels like he does indeed have a big, noisy, and very very disruptive brood of children to take care of.
Skippy opens the door to see his Skarmory waiting patiently on the threshold, like a faithful dog awaiting its owner. It screeches joyfully as soon as it catches sight of Skippy, who hushes it hastily, nerves already fried from the gang assignment he’d been out doing all night. “The neighbours ‘ave already complained ‘bout ya makin’ too much noise! The landlord’s gonna evict me if ye don’t hush up a wee bit!”
Skarmory makes a dissatisfied clanking noise as Skippy keeps it back in its Pokeball. One down, he thinks, three more to go.
Croagunk is the next one he finds, already fast asleep on his couch and tired out from the countless other shenanigans its comrades must have gotten up to. He keeps it in its Pokeball as quietly as possible, silently thanking Arceus that at least one of his Pokemon doesn’t take after his own raucous, rambunctious ways.
He finds Umbreon in the toilet, scratching up the third bar of soap he has replaced this week. He is way too tired to complain any more – he gathers up the feline Pokemon in his arms and throws the soap into the trash, making a mental note to get a child-proof (or Pokemon-proof) soap case the next time he is at the department store.
Last but not least is Gengar. Being a Ghost-type, Skippy knows it could be anywhere around the house. He had always been afraid of Ghost-type Pokemon since his childhood, and his fears had not necessarily been alleviated even after bonding with his Gengar. Tucking his Pokeballs away into his belt, he tiptoes through his wrecked apartment, trying to find any clue at all as to where his rogue Pokemon might be.
“Hello? Gengar? I’m home, an’ it’s time fer ye t’ go back in yer ball like the good lassie y’ are, okay? I’m gonna count t’ ten, an’ I expect t’ see ye back here in front o’ me all ready t’ go sleepy-byes. Now, one, two, three…”
He makes the mistake of closing his eyes for a split second. In that instant, a large spiky purple blob descends from the ceiling, chuckling quietly to itself. Hypnosis works like a charm – Skippy is asleep within an instant, collapsing in a worn-out pile on the floor. Gengar chuckles to itself once more, then activates its own Pokeball and disappears inside it. And then, finally, the house is quiet once more.
