Twenty years after "Gotta catch 'em all" provoked a preteen OCD epidemic, America is once again the victim of Pokémon fever. Pokémon Go hid those pesky evolving monsters in every pocket of existence, turned our mobile devices into Poké Balls, and set players loose across this great nation in search of prizes. Really, 2016 is just like our forefathers' rush for gold.
With the video game still consuming the national conversation, the time is right to bestow upon each state of America its own official Pokémon.
Icy and powerful. Fan of auroras. Flips itself in the air to see Russia.
Enjoys dry heat. Can be vicious if need be, but keeps it low-key. Would probably go to a lot of Diamondbacks games with Papa Arbok.
Lush, but vocal. Never quite sure what side it's on. Camouflaged by surroundings until the fight starts.
Privy to new trends and technology despite being the product of retro programming. Wishes it could be organic. Shiny.
Looks like he might indulge in the devil's lettuce, but also might be totally straight-edge and deceptively killer at making his way up a nice 14'er. Definitely a fan of Denver Diner on Colfax.
Compensates for size with attitude. Hangs out in gardens. Looks like a dick.
Easily overlooked because it has a boring name and looks like a blanket.
Loves any body of water. Prone to accidents. Sounds stoned but hasn't touched that shit in years, man.
Quaffed, but always ready to show its fangs. A nose for bullshit. Known for accuracy -- would make a great cornhole partner.
Grows pretty much everywhere. Weakened by ice and willing to complain about it. Bluesy, but box-like enough to be a formidable square dancer.
Great carpool buddy. Surprisingly obsessed with speed. Wants to keep our power plant infrastructure just the way it is, thank you very much.
The closest thing there is to a Jayhawk. Also, a formidable underdog.
Enjoys a good horse race. In a constant, inflamed state of "I just shot back too much bourbon."
Either the embodiment of a lore-filled history or the end result of too many rum drinks. A hop in its step, regardless.
Territorial (not all Krabbys are found in Washington, DC, dammit). A hard shell that can go soft. Smells of Old Bay.
Better known for its past. Bit of a bully if you fuel it up.
Competitive, passionate, and proud. Loves a good challenge or rivalry. Appendages jutting out every which way.
Happy. Just crazy happy. Salt of the earth -- plus happy. Harvests eggs. While happy.
Thinks it's a wolf, often misunderstood. A force to be reckoned with, especially for those who don't take it seriously.
Part of a cluster, struggling for individuality. Out trailblazing on two feet, though a hype man for its roots.
A big hulking mass of a beast that looks out for the little guy (who lives in its small pouch).
Derived from prehistoric history, runs on fossils. More likely to hit with a club than hit the club.
Loves to put on a show. Can fuck you up if you piss it off or you're just plain unlucky. Will make you want to sleep, then never see it again.
Very old. People seem to like the idea, but never really commit.
The most ferocious mouth in the country.
Cute and fiery. Love of the outdoors. Will prove that it can eat more spicy food than you.
Self-reliant and laid back, unless under the spell of cityfolk careerists, who transform it into a cunning and morally ambiguous critter. Would make do in a small apartment.
Perpetually prepared for incoming storms. Keeps work-ready with its head down. Happy to be landlocked, thank you very much.
Historically important. Will slice your hands off if it detects the slightest bit of resistance.
Tiny, but draws you in with magnetic power. Looks like a RISD student's thesis project.
Will refer to the University of South Carolina as USC and confuse the hell out of you. Will also use adept psychological manipulation to shut down any argument involving the other USC.
Takes up a lot of space. Stands on its own. Always expanding and prone to food comas. Wants to keep things weird.
Individual boulders link together to serve the whole. Dives underground during turbulent moments and lives however the frick it wants to live, gosh darn it.
Old and often forgotten, but occasionally reminds the world of its blue identity by exploding with political fury.
Obsessed with tradition. Has a dark past. A little creepy. Makes a good stew.
A gloomy-ass Pokémon that doesn't have a lot to say. Definitely owns multiple Mudhoney albums.
Carries knives all the time, but, like, they're for work. Will fucking cut you if you compare it to Mr. Mime.
A hunter-gatherer who loves to sit in a corner and nibble. Loves cheese.
Giant, but rolls with the punches. Sheds its skin each season. At peace until a Colorado Drowzee stomps into its territory.
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