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John Gamefreak is sitting at his desk, his eyes sparkling with inspiration. He's been staring at a single thead for hours now. The coworkers are becoming concerned. He takes a sip of his coffee - coffee helps him think straight, even this crappy office swill - and decides that gen 7 will be the dankest gen yet.
Tears well up in his eyes. It all flashes before him - the new pokemon, the new moves, the new adventure that awaits every beloved fan he has let down. He will change that. He will make a game the dankness of which is unmatched. His lip trembles. He brushes a hand across the monitor, and whispers, "Thank you, /vp/ Thank you." In a swift motion, he produces a dank joint, and lights it with pure fiery determination. The joint was good and dank, as was the future of pokemon.
