Hello! My name is OAK.
The sun slowly rose over Pallet town. It was a clear, beautiful morning, the likes of which permeate several fairly tales and Teletubbies episodes, and the dew lay thick across the Oddish. The town Dodrio had yet to crow as the first pale rays of light poked in through the blinds, a pattern of bright stripes that slowly made their way across the colourless blanket. Slowly but steadily, they crept closer and closer, headed for the grey-haired head that stuck out from beneath the far end. The professor, on his end, looked like he was disturbed enough without the ultraviolet intruders - he tossed and turned, a deeper-than-usual frown on his face. "They call me the POKéMON PROF", he mumbled into his pillow. If the growing, dark spot next to his face was any indication, he hadn't bothered to swallow first. In his dream he stood alone against a white background, compelled by an unknown force to speak to empty air. This didn't bother him in the least, however. No, such things were completely mundane, considering the circumstances. "This world is inhabited by creatures called POKéMON!", he droned on, curious of why he was yelling out some of the words. Even this mystery, however, was nothing compared to the eerie feeling of being watched, his complete inability to move (even his lips, despite talking), and a sense of having slimmed down something fierce. The professor tossed again. "For some people, POKéMON are pets. Others use them foAAAHHH!".
"Hello. I'm professor Oak".
Samuel Oak tumbled from his bed at the Dodrio's cry, giving quite a roar of his own as he struck the floor head-first. Groaning, the pokémon professor reached out with a trembling hand to grab the edge of his bed and pull himself to his feet. Looking about as healthy as your average zombie, he wiped the drool from his mouth and glanced at the clock. He rose to his full height and did some express morning callisthenics, his old bones cracking - it took several seconds before he realized what the clock actually read. With an informative yell of "****!", he was gone like a blur of grey and pasty white, slipping into the bathroom with the thought that he never should have done that pokémon show live last night - why hadn't he just made a recording earlier?
"Some people call me the 'pokémon professor'... which is pretty accurate, since I am a pokémon professor. Still, it's flattering when they emphasize 'the'".
To the amused cries of over a dozen pokémon, the gray-haired old scientist navigated the treacherous paths around rows of cages in one of the back rooms of his laboratory. He had a sack of pokémon food, a pink toothbrush sticking from out of the corner of his mouth, and the hairdo of Zapdos. Working the toothbrush with his left hand, he tried his best to pour chowder from the sack pinned beneath his right arm, simultaneously fighting to keep his pants from falling down around his knees. Luckily for the pokémon, his sense of oral hygiene - and the act of aiming the chowder bag while staring at his wristwatch - kept him from wording much of his frustration as he hopped along. Finally completing the pokémon breakfast lap, he dropped the empty bag on the floor, spat the toothbrush straight into the mouth of a particularly mirthful ponyta, and dashed out of the room. Past some machines, through a corridor, out into the main research lab and back up the stairs he went, since he'd left his belt in his room.
"I also happen to be in charge of handing out starting pokémon to beginning trainers. Today is a very special day for a small group of children - the day they begin their pokémon journey! That is, if only I can find my &$#£%@ belt.
Back at the stairs, the beige pants now secure around the base of his beginning pot belly, professor Oak was finally beginning to feel like he had some sort of control over the situation. Sure, he'd had to skip breakfast to compensate for his oversleeping, but there was no way he was going that he, the great pokémon professor, had fallen prey to such mundane a need as sleep. "Hey, gramps", came a familiar voice from downstairs, "what's all the racket?". The voice, of course, belonged to the professor's grandson, Gary Oak. The impertinent youngster stood at the base of the stairs, dressed in his usual purple sweater and jeans, arms crossed as he watched his grandfather make his way down. Oak the senior smiled, "oh, good morning, Gary. Sorry if I woke you, I... No, wait", he said as he pushed his grandson aside. "I'm not sorry at all. All the other trainers should be getting up about now, so you might as well be up, uh, as well", he continued, smirking superciliously as he wagged a finger at Gary, who in turn gave a huff and shrugged. "Well, you're the expert, but - are you sure they'd be getting up only five minutes from opening time?". The esteemed pokémon expert's expression turned slightly distressed.
"As I said, this is a very special day for several neighbourhood youngsters. Their very own Pokémon legend is about to unfold. A world of dreams and adventures with Pokémon awaits them. Let's go!"
At the exact given time, just as the Duduo clock gave its final chirp to mark the hour, a perfectly groomed and positively sparkling professor Oak that turned the key and opened the doors to his laboratory. The sun was shining and the grass was green, the watered glittered harmoniously and the bright red of the laboratory roof stung the eyes of everyone within sight. "It looks like a perfect day to start a journey", said professor Oak, more to himself than anything, "and the lab looks like the perfect place to journey away from". Lightly touching his forehead, the professor frowned, "no, that came out wrong. Damnit. Sigh... Oh, well. Gary! Come here - I've got a good starter prepared for you".
