Final

Lyrics

You ever notice collecting Pokémon cards is kinda like gambling? Yeah, for people with nostalgia issues. I mean, I used to judge addicts—meth heads, gamblers, scratchers. Then I spent 80 bucks on cardboard with cartoons. It’s like, I don’t buy Pokémon… I chase it. You convince yourself, "One more pack," but really, you’re just feeding an addiction wrapped in shiny paper. I started scheduling “booster runs” like it’s a drug deal. Wake up early, hit Target, scope out Ace Hardware, pray Dollar General’s restocked. Ace Hardware, man—that’s a store that sells hammers and despair. I walk in pretending I need a screwdriver, but really, I’m just hunting for shiny cardboard like some spiritual quest. The cashier asks, “Can I help you find something?” I say, “Yeah… peace of mind. And maybe a booster sleeve.” And then there’s the store route. It’s Mission: Impossible. Target, Walmart, Ace, Walgreens if I hate myself. Sometimes you find an empty Yu-Gi-Oh box from 2009. That’s when you start questioning your life choices. Maybe God’s given up on me. Then my wife gets into it. Yeah. It started cute—candles, opening packs together. But she started hiding her pulls, making me guess. “What’d you get?” “Hmm, it’s shiny.” “Is it a trainer or Pokémon?” “Not telling yet 😏.” Bro, she turned my dopamine into a riddle. Then she pulls a gold Arceus VSTAR and says, “This one’s from my pack.” I’m thinking, “So... we’re doing separate finances now?” Next, I’m hiding ETBs under the bed like side chicks. We don’t open packs together anymore—just two adults, side-eyeing each other. Pokémon didn’t ruin my marriage; it just exposed us. Then my sister joins in, ‘cause she needs to make everything about her. I tell her I started again, and she’s like, “OMG same.” No, you didn’t. You just heard me say it and decided to jump in. Now we’re on missions: “Ace got 151s?” “Thirty minutes away.” “Snacks? Bet.” We pull up like Pokémon pirates, whispering, “Check aisle five, I got the register.” We sit in the car ripping packs, like fiends behind a gas station. “Yo, full art?” “No way!” People think we’re on drugs. Nah, just two grown siblings feeding their dopamine addiction. It’s beautiful, really. Two idiots, surrounded by wrappers, living the dream. And I realize... Pokémon didn’t ruin me. It just brought out what was already there.