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Imagine being Bill Trinen in that presentation and having to be all like "damn, Pokemon Sword, you fuckin' fine, all sexy with your halved Pokedex and Nintendo 64 graphics. I would totally have sex with you, both my character and the real me." when all he really wants to do is hunt another shiny in his dressing room. Like seriously imagine having to be Bill Trinen and not only sit in that chair while Junichi Masuda flaunts his disgusting lies in front of you, the favorable lighting barely concealing his subtle grin and wooden teeth, and just sit there, take after take, hour after hour, while he perfected that lie. Not only having to tolerate his monstrous fucking visage but his haughty attitude as everyone on set tells him he's STILL GOT IT and DAMN, GENERATION EIGHT LOOKS LIKE THAT?? because they're not the ones who have to sit there and watch his mannish fucking gremlin face contort into types of grins you didn't even know existed before that day. You've been hunting nothing but a healthy diet of shinies and legendaries and later alleged cut Pokemon for your ENTIRE CAREER coming straight out of the boonies in Johto. You've never even seen anything this fucking disgusting before, and now you swear you can taste the sweat that's breaking out on his dimpled face as he sucks it in to laugh suggestively at you, smugly assured that you are enjoying the opportunity to get paid to sit there and revel in his "visionary (for that is what he calls himself)" development, the development he worked so hard for with tired programmers in the previous months. And then the director calls for another take, and you know you could kill every single person in this room before the studio security could put you down, but you sit there and endure, because you're fucking Bill Trinen. You're not going to lose your career at Nintendo over this. Just bear it. Hide your face and bear it.
