Eevee: What’s they that wishes so? My cousin Vaporeon? No, my fair cousin: If we are mark’d to faint, we are enough To do our Trainer loss; and if to live, The fewer pokemon, the greater share of experience.

Arceus’s will! I pray thee, wish not one pokemon more. By Arceus, I am not covetous for pokedollars, Nor care I who doth feed upon my Picnics; It troubles me not if other pokemon my contest outfits wear; Such outward things dwell not in my desires: But if it be a sin to covet experience, I am the most offending Eevee alive.

No, faith, my cousin, wish not a pokemon from The PC : Arceus’s peace! I would not lose so great experience For one pokemon more, methinks, would share from me For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more! Rather proclaim it, Vaporeon, through our party, That they which hath no stomach to this fight, Let them depart; their Release shall be made And Berries for journey put into their bags: We would not faint in that pokemon’s company That fears their fellowship to faint with us. 

This day is called the feast of Crispeon: 

Those that outlives this day, and comes safe home, Will stand a tip-toe when the day is named, And rouse them at the name of Crispeon. Those that shall live this day, and see old age, Will yearly on the vigil feast their neighbours, And say ‘To-morrow is Saint Crispeon:’ Then will they display their ribbon and show their scars. And say ‘This damage I had on Crispeon’s day.’ 

Old pokemon forget: yet all shall be forgot, But they’ll remember with advantages What feats they did that day: then shall our names. Familiar in their mouth as household words as Our Champions, Umbreon and Espeon, Flareon and Jolteon, Leafeon and Glaceon, Be in their flowing poffins freshly remember’d. This story shall the good pokemon teach their eggs; And a peaceful Crispeon shall ne’er go by, From this day to the ending of the world, But we in it shall be remember’d; 

We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; For those today that sheds their HP with me Shall be my family; be they ne’er so trained, This day shall gentle their condition: And gentlepokemon in the PC now a-boxed Shall think themselves accursed they were not here, And hold their pokehoods cheap whilst any speaks That fought with us upon Saint Crispeon’s day.