---
title: "Miraidon the Dongo"
date: 2024-11-14
tags:
- birds
- unstagnation
- featured
---

![Dongo is love. Dongo is life.](/dongo-party.png)

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The boy falls back against his couch, dropping his controller in his lap. The video game on his TV blares cheerful adventurous music. "The game is sooooo slow."

"Fuck," the girl says over video chat. "You're on emulator, though. 2.5x it?"

"The computer isn't quite powerful enough."

"L. Ratio. Cringe PC gamer."

The boy turns his attention back to the game, adding a new monster to his current party. "Dongo disagrees. Do you have a Dongo? Exactly."

On the other side of the world, the girl has little to say to that. "Dongo isn't _real,_ he's _not\!"_

"Dongo is life."

"It's time to snap back to reality — car doggo is a myth."

"I will write Dongo fanfic. He will be real."

She makes a face. "I'm so sorry — this sounds like the biggest innuendo…"

He nods absently. "Hm, hm, yes, sex the Dongo."

She pauses. _"What?"_

He frowns. "Absolutely not. Dongo is too precious."

Her jaw drops. "You're the one who said to sex it\! Every time I settle down to play Pokémon, I end up playing League instead. I think I've been corrupted by the impure." She shudders.

"Oh, no\! League is not fun."

"But it is," she says sadly.

"It's boring\! You click things, it's barely real time nor turn-based. It's as if tower defense and Civ did a Dongo."

She takes a moment to parse the mystery word. "Why is it an _adjective_ now?"

"Dongo disapproves." He shakes his head.

"Oh, yeah? Well, I've spoken to Dongo and he said he doesn't like you." She sticks her tongue out, folds her arms, and turns away.

"Lies\!" he cries. "You don't have Dongo. Dongo is _mine\!"_

"I have him right here," she gloats, peeking off-camera. "He's right in front of me right now. He just doesn't want to see you."

"Let's see 'em."

"But he doesn't want to see you."

"Pics or it didn't happen."

Some shuffling from her background. "Every time I pull out my camera, he hides behind the couch and mutters, 'no'. And he can talk. And I'd know because I've talked to him."

"I think you met an impostor Dongo…" he starts, concerned.

"I think _you_ met an impostor Dongo," she counters.

"…because Pokémon can't talk, duh?" He sounds befuddled.

"Not to you," she says smugly. She pauses. "I feel like such a kid…ahh…"

"Embrace it," he encourages. "Embrace the Dongo."

"…I'd like to remind you of the innuendo you set up not 40 seconds ago."

"Well, it was an…accident."

"Dongo disapproves."

"No, _your_ Dongo disapproves."

"It's not worth arguing with a Dongo flat earther, so I'll agree to disagree."

"I think you should get your head checked out because Dongo isn't real? He's from this Pokémon game."

_"What?"_ she screeches. "No — heathen — _hypocrite\!_ I am _awake_, I am _alive_, I am _correct\!"_

"Dongo disagrees."

"Dongo is _right here,_ I —" Some shuffling. She sounds defeated. "I can't win." One last stand. "If he's real, then I'm right and you're wrong. But if he's fake you're right but you're right because you heard from Dongo."

"Touch the Dongo," he eggs. A simple test. "I dare you."

"…What the _fuck_ is going on? I'm not _coherent_ enough for this?" She sounds like she's in hysterics.

"More like you're _too_ coherent for this. I'm making innuendo jokes, obviously. Can't you tell? Dong get it?"

_"AHHHHHHHHHHH\!"_ The sound of a head smashing a wall comes through the speaker.

"No. No, I refuse to accept this. Dongo is — one: real, two: not real, three: an innuendo, four: I need a psych eval, five: _you_ need a psych eval."

He frowns. "Three of those criteria contradict each other."

"…I am _not prepared_ for this multiple choice test."

"You see, if I need an eval, then Dongo must not be not real nor real — and simultaneously you don't need an eval because Dongo is therefore real and not real. This is according to Dongo over here."

Silence.

"Dongo says hi…" he adds.

A pause. "I am going to lose my mind."

"…in Dongonese."

"What the _fuck_ is _Dongonese?_ You said Pokémon can't talk\!"

"They can — what do you mean? Pikachu talks all the time."

A slow realisation. "I'm being fucking gaslit\!"

"Can't you hear them? They make all sorts of sounds in the game."

She falls over. She considers whether to go batshit crazy or lie on the ground. She decides to lie on the ground.

"They even talk to each other," he continues. "Here, lemme find a pic."

A ping. With dread in her heart, she slides down the notification.

![](/dongo-gaslight.jpg)

It's a picture of a Victorian lamp. Its flame cheerfully dances, burning the gas. "Shut the fuck up."

"Stare into it," he encourages.

Against her will, her eyes track the still image. "Oh," she realises.

"You can hear whispers."

"_Oh._ I can _see,"_ she whispers.

" 'Dongo dong dong dongo.' "

"I can _hear_ it. The voices. Of _Dongo_. They're telling me…they're telling me to go see a therapist." She pushes herself up with her elbows.

"Dongo agrees."

"_No\!"_ She is fed up. She will not let him take it back from her. "Let him speak for _himself."_

" 'Cause that's a gas light, y'know. It's not good for your brain. Has fumes and all that."

She looks back to the picture with horror in her eyes. "I feel like I'm forgetting how to communicate like a functional human being," she says.

"It's okay\! Dongo feels that way too."

She closes her eyes. "Maybe I'll wake up tomorrow and this will all have been a big, elaborate dream."

"Yep."

"_He's. Not. Real."_

"That's right. He can't hurt you."

Something in that resonates with her. "H-he can't hurt me," she says, dazed. Then more confidently, "He can't hurt me." She nods. "The voices are gone."

"Good."

She takes a deep breath. "I am about to have a psychotic break on the bathroom floor at 1:47 AM over hearing the voices of Miraidon, box legendary of hit new Pokémon game Violet, and maybe this other nerd's voice, I'm not sure."

"While you're at it, say hi to Dongo for me."

"I'll tell him you hate him."

This shakes him up. His tone changes. "Noooo\!" More confidence. She pulls the middle finger to no one in particular. But then, "That's okay. I have the real Dongo."

She refuses to be sucked into his insanity. "I'm _not_ starting this again, I'm not\!"

He sighs. It must have been a long night for him, too. "I'd agree, actually."

"Ha\! I can finally win\!"

"I've run out of circles to Dongo," he concedes.

The sense of victory makes it easier for her to assert her place in reality. "That doesn't even make sense\!"

"So? Does Dongo make sense? No."

"The message I'm taking away from this conversation is that I'm always right and you're always wrong and Schrodinger's Dongo."

"Sounds about right." A pause. "Good night\!"

"Night\!"

!["Don-dongo. Dongodon dong dongodon?"](dongo.jpg)