Pokémon, as all you dudely dudes will surely attest, is beaten only by Harry Potter and Justin Bieber in the inexplicably-popular-shitflecks-scraped-from-Satan's-asscheeks stakes. Nintendo's steadfast refusal to augment the formula of the games with anything new of note since the nineties has rendered them one of the most wanktacular, quick-cash rehashes in the cosmos.
After all, didn't MC Hammer wake up one overcast morning in the late nineties and have an epiphany along the lines of, Holy hell, these parachute pants of mine areutterlyshit. What in the name of Lucifer's left bollock was I thinking with those? Yes, yes he did. We're still waiting for the toon-tinged Pokémon franchise to do the same.
What modern man demands from the franchise, then, is... well, what he demands from everything else in life: more skimpiness and/or jiggling. Our fellow ogling connoisseur, TheNaughtyVader (we like to call him The Dark Lord of the Stiff. Bless him and his big ‘ol erection), knows this. Here's another installment of cleavage-centric cosplay, fresh from the Death Star's exhaust port, in which lustable ladies scarcely conceal their own exhaust ports beneath the shortest shorter than short shorts short shorts you ever saw. Pokémon, for kids? Nuts to that.