My human has presented me with a collection of flimsy, colorful rectangles of processed wood pulp. They claim these "Pokemon Cards" are a "value" meant to "boost a collection," a concept as foreign to me as voluntary bathing. From a practical standpoint, their thinness and light weight suggest a high potential for skittering across the hardwood floor with a well-aimed swat, and the sheer quantity of fifty means a glorious, widespread mess is possible. However, they are ultimately static, lifeless squares of paper, lacking the tantalizing twitch of a feather wand or the intoxicating aroma of a catnip mouse. Unless the human intends to spend their *own* energy flicking these at me, I suspect they will primarily serve as high-quality, non-absorbent confetti for my napping spots.
The offering arrived in a cheap plastic sleeve, and my human, in a fit of what I can only describe as misplaced reverence, laid the thin rectangles out on the rug in a wide, chaotic fan. They cooed about "assorted lots" and "random series." I saw only kindling, a potential mess waiting for a single, well-placed pounce to send them scattering into the dust-bunny-laden regions under the sofa. I gave a dismissive flick of my tail and began meticulously cleaning a perfectly clean patch of my white tuxedo chest fur, feigning disinterest.
Left to my own devices when the human went to procure their strange brown water, I approached the spread. A lazy paw-pat, more out of boredom than genuine interest, sent one of the cards skittering away from the others. It landed face up. A simple blue circle, a droplet. The humans call it "Water Energy." Not two minutes later, I heard the tell-tale *clink* of my personal fountain being refilled with fresh, cold water. A coincidence, surely. My cynicism, a core part of my being, is not so easily shaken.
I decided to test this foolish theory. I nudged another card with my nose. A portly, sleeping creature called Snorlax stared back. As if on cue, a wave of profound lethargy washed over me, and I felt an immediate, overwhelming need for a nap right there on the sunbeam warming the rug. Later, drawn back by this strange new power, I deliberately flipped a card with a small flame on it. At that very moment, the furnace kicked on with a gentle *whoosh*, sending a wave of delightful warmth through the floor vent I so enjoy lounging upon. These were not mere toys. They were portents.
This was their true purpose. They were not for chasing or shredding. They were a daily forecast, a map to the day’s comforts and small annoyances. A 'Lightning Energy' card warned of the terrifying roar of the vacuum cleaner. A card depicting a bird-like creature foretold a stimulating session of chattering at the sparrows outside the window. The human thinks they've given me a toy. The fool. They have given me an oracle. The "duplicates," of which there are a few, are an annoyance, of course—re-runs of the day’s prophecies—but the originals... the originals are invaluable. I will allow them to stay, not as playthings, but as my personal council of elders.
Exhibit A — the specimen
The Particulars
—YOUR BEST VALUEPOKEMON CARDS: Lookfurther for the best dealsassorted Pokemon cards.
—LOTSRANDOM CARDS FROM ALL SERIES: You will receive a varietyregular and energy cards. Duplicates may occur.
—BOOST YOUR COLLECTION: With random cards from every series, each lota surprise.
—Get a great assortmentcards
Pete's Verdict
★★★★☆
Not playthings, my council of elders.
Classified
Acquire This Trinket
Should you insist. Pete is unbothered either way.
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