Into the Oddish is a Stupid Idiot Game (affectionate)

28 Aug, 2026

From the first moment you looked at this cover, you knew whether or not you should buy Into the Oddish.

You either laughed, because you already had the context necessary to grasp the absurdity of this fan project, or you were perplexed - perhaps with an accompanying pang of anti-consumerist ick. I cannot talk someone into enjoying a joke. If there is no love left in your heart for Pokémon, then journey on wayward reader - there is nothing for you here.

But I bet a great many of you do love Pokémon, and are perhaps a little embarrassed about that - that warmth rising in your chest when you imagine the stupid smile on your Bulbasaur’s face. Nobody really wants to be a Disney adult, right?

Into the Oddish is shaky under scrutiny, but scrutinizing this project misses the point. Nobody is asking you to play this game instead of Mythic Bastionland. These books are candy and should be treated as such.

Credit: Hodag

In Praise of Stupidity

Into the Oddish is the most straight-faced implementation of its premise imaginable. Stat blocks are literal formulaic conversions of a Pokémon’s Base Stats to Into the Odd’s three roll-under saves. Each Pokémon learns up to four moves with daily usage limits from a faithfully converted list of 100+. Super Effective hits grant stacking advantage on damage, and maximum value rolls explode as a bonus critical hit die. Status moves with a % chance to hit, like Hypnosis, have the exact same accuracy in Oddish as they do in the original games. Warren can’t help but sneak a smidge of cleverness into the text - shoutout to the game’s handling of Trade Evolution in particular¹ - but the sheer bluntness with which the system tends to meet the brief is itself hilarious.

However, no matter how genuinely funny Into the Oddish is, no lyric game is worth $25 to me². This is billed as a full roleplaying game with an accompanying parody adventure whose level-up mechanics assume you are playing in an ongoing campaign. Putting aside how much the very existence of this product brings a goofy smile to my face, on first read I expect the underlying system… to be quite terrible, actually.

Oddish’s core priority is not to be a compelling roleplaying game. Its priority is to faithfully recreate the mechanics of the first generation Pokémon games, then shove them into the framework of Into the Odd with comedic force. It is not simulating the world of Pokémon, it is simulating the real-life video game, Pokémon. Which creates a pile of redundant moves, broken mechanics, and diegetic rough edges.

Diegesis Weirdness:

• What do I, as a flying Pokémon, gain by learning the move “Fly”? Can I now carry other people when I’m flying? Or fly longer distances? Or navigate better?
• What happens in the fiction when I use the move “Substitute”?
• What is a Technical Machine, physically? How does it teach moves?
• Can a Machamp wield weaponry? Can any Pokémon with arms carry around a tree trunk as a source of infinite grass-type damage? What about armor?
• Are Pokémon literate?
• Is tactical infinity preserved in fights, or are players limited to 4 moves + struggle?
• Are we fighting in an abstracted space, à la Fabula Ultima, or are we engaging with the fictional landscape by fiat, à la Into the Odd?

Mechanical Weirdness:

• Charizard, Butterfree, Beedrill, Pidgey, and Ghastly all grant players unlimited at-will flight, a game ruining power.
• Revives do not revive Pokémon as written.³
• Is Ghastly intangible? Can a Ghastly player move through walls?
• What happens when an enemy Pokémon uses Quick Attack?
• What counts as "surviving an expedition"? Not just in the trite "what's an expedition" way, I mean what counts as "surviving"? Pokémon faint - damage can't kill them. If you're knocked out turn 1 then dragged through the rest of the adventure, did you "survive"?
• Each turn a Pokémon is allowed to “change positions and use a move or item”, but the text is unclear on what that means. Is combat assumed to be one-on-one, as in the games? Do Pokémon “switch out”, despite not being in Pokeballs?⁴

The Dead Letters episode on this game would be six hours long. The integration of Pokémon’s mechanics is anything but elegant, in a manner honestly reminiscent of the original Pokémon titles' copious rough edges. I’m skeptical that these rules improve moment-to-moment dungeon crawling in any way.

Which is why I have no choice but to write my own loose conversion of Silent Titans for Into the Oddish, and document its playtest on my blog.

Credit: Hodag

Why am I Writing an Adventure for a Dubious Joke System?

For as long as I’ve been a part of this hobby, I have tried very hard to hone my DMing skills as a craft. I treat my games as bespoke, creative gifts to my friends. I end every session tired, and most of them fulfilled.

I’ve heard Grognards speak of the mythical Beer and Pretzels game, where expectations are low and every player’s chief priority is to pleasantly waste time in each other’s company. D&D as parallel man activity. Brazen IP theft from a beloved children’s video game uniquely communicates that we aren’t trying to write Shakespeare here.

Those lowered expectations also make Oddish an excellent stepping stone for my design skills. The only reason Yonkers exists is because I was given a context in which everything except the writing was required to be bad. Warren has set up the expectation that Into the Oddish modules should be blatant ripoffs of classic dungeon crawls, filled with outdated conventions and sprite art stolen from Nintendo. The only new thing I need to learn to make a good module in the eyes of Oddish’s audience is Affinity Publisher.⁵

So, with expectations suitably lowered, do my negative impressions hold up? Let's let play do the talking.

Credit: Skullboy

Loud Dittos: Session 1

Everybody knows Pokémon used to live in computers.

Some people know this is because humans filled computers with treasure. 
 Fewer people know that humans put a hoard of treasure into one computer.
You know that computer is in Bill’s house.

Teal-roofed townhomes reclaimed by ivy. Poliwags waddle to work in canary yellow hard hats as wild Spearow fly groggily overhead. The subtle smell of white forget-me-nots wafts across morning dew. Cresting over the southern hill of Cerulean City, our heroes come into view.

Bulbasaur

Str 8 / Dex 6 / Wil 10 / HP 3
Tackle / Growl / Cut

Gender abolitionist Catholic pilgrim, wearing only a clerical collar. Once, a fringe sect of technological preservationists from Saffron City. Now, hellbent on the destruction of old-world relics, to ensure Pokémon society is not corrupted by the cyclical evil of technological accelerationism.

“This is Gen 1, Pokémon do NOT have sexes yet.” - L.

Geodude

Str 8 / Dex 5 / Wil 7 / HP 5 / Armor 2
Tackle / Dig

Adherent of Bulbasaur’s they/them Catholicism. Strives to be the first of their generation to evolve into a Golem, like their Grandfather before them.

“C’mon, do I have to be a Geodude? Can I reroll?” - W.

Caterpie

Str 2 / Dex 7 / Wil 7 / HP 3
Tackle / String Shot
The runt of the litter. Fell out of a tree into the middle of morning service, and felt too awkward to leave.

“{various pathetic noises}” - D.

They are quickly accosted by a Rhydon in an Officer Jenny uniform and wrap-around sunglasses. ”Yes, I do have to wear the wig, that is part of it.”

A merc hired on the Gym’s payroll to replace the prior Officer Jenny, Raticate, who’s been missing for four days. “Most likely another shithead Clefairy prank. They love nothing more than to rob our homes and sell drugs to our kids.”

“What? ‘Bill’ you say? I’m no local, go ask the village elder, Parasect.”

He tends berries behind a ruined home, a crude bas-relief Zapdos carved into the front door. His body rots to the naked eye. “Tell us your tale, old man”, barks Geodude.

“…Long ago…”



“Old people always gotta keep a 'Long, long ago' in the back pocket.” - L.

“That man, Bill, performed nightmarish experiments in his laboratory north of town. Fused himself with a Pokémon to become something vile and new. Tempted… the townspeople… struck a deal with… ahh…”



Strength Save: Success.
Parasect does not die of a heart attack.

“…Zapdos. Zapdos protects us. And I perform my role - one berry, to each, every day.”

He hands the party their entitled sustenance. They ask why his house is all fucked up.

“Burglarized by Clefairy miscreants! My precious collection of Dig TMs - stolen! They dug right through my floor, back to their den of sin!”

The party decides they do not care about this and leave.

A local Pokémon Center, lit by oil lamps, bustling with adventuring Pokémon. Chansey fruitlessly fiddles with the healing machine while a Fearow watches the party from a shadowed corner. Geodude offers his aid - the rare blessing of a five-fingered hand - and realizes the building simply lacks power. 



“HEY”, squawks the feathered watcher. 
“……….You need to Fly somewheres?”

Geodude - “Can you carry us north?”

Fearow - “……Y-…yeah.”

G - “How much?”

F - “……How much… you got?”
G - “One Pokedollar.”

F - “……Costs, one Pokedollar. To fly north. Mhmm. Yes, yes.”


The bird stares unblinking through strained silence. Geodude, ironically crumbling under pressure, mumbles “sure” and leaves the interaction as quickly as possible.

The next morning as the trio exits their room they see Fearow waiting in the same chair. He has not moved.
“Time to g-go.”

“Yeah sure I’ll walk into this obvious trap.” - L.

The party climbs on Fearow’s distressingly squishy back. They soar over Nugget Bridge, where a Mankey and Rattata bicker and play-fight far below.

“Oh lookie there, the tutorial encounter.” - L.

“I bet they would’ve taught us how status-inflicting moves worked.” - D.

A long-abandoned Sea Cottage choked by encroaching forest. An enormous shadow obscures the bottom of the decorative pond.

Fearow retracts its wings, entering free fall. Clearly intending all involved to become a stain on the cobblestone below.

Geodude yanks Fearow’s wings open (Str: Success). The bird’s chest scrapes against the ground in a glide crash landing. Feathers and muck wedged into the seam of the stones behind. The party, thrown from its back, watches the injured bird’s beak contort into an impossibly wide smile. Eyes shrink to black pupils.

A rumble in the earth. A geyser of pond water. Then, a deafening roar.

Credit: xoto, kiwikelly, and petitjaj

Initiative. All fail.


Sloppy Fearow uses Fly, as the Mutated Gyarados charges a Hyper Beam.

Not how Hyper Beam works RAW, but flipping the charge felt more dramatic in the moment. Foreshadow future badness, give the gay babies a chance to react.

Geodude attempts to knock Fearow out of the sky with a thrown rock but falls short.

DAdv Str: Fail

The game’s diegetic ambiguities rear their head on the very first turn of the very first combat. The whole point of Fly is that it grants immunity to attacks on its initial turn, so in retrospect I probably should’ve said “No”. Otherwise, I think “does it do damage” is going to be my guiding light for non-move combat rulings going forward. Throwing a rock is something any Geodude should be able to do, with or without the move Rock Throw.

Bulbasaur and Caterpie run for the house.

2x Dex Saves to Escape: Both Fail.

Fearow claws into Bulbasaur as Gyarados rolls a crit (two 20s!) through Geodude’s resistance.

Bulbasaur and Caterpie escape to Bill’s home and hide against the interior wall as Fearow’s head smashes through the front window.

2x Adv Dex: Both Succeed⁶

The cottage is barren - dust ghosts and outlets for heavy machinery, now absent. A mahogany desk with no computer. Shelves carelessly looted. The pair push the desk against the door in a panic, getting just close enough for Fearow’s beak to knock Bulbasaur unconscious.

Caterpie, terrified and alone, uses String Shot to pull Bulbasaur’s unconscious body out of Fearow’s jaws. The bird, unable to reach, retracts its neck. The room falls quiet.

Unwilling to move anywhere near the windows, Caterpie String Shots the drawers out of the desk. Inside they find an Ether, Revive, Rare Candy, the Flash HM, and a Pokeball lost behind the bookcase.

Bulbasaur is revived. Caterpie learns Flash, then gobbles the Rare Candy and evolves into Metapod. Drunk on newfound power, Metapod triple-Hardens and leaps up to the window, planning to String Shot Geodude’s slightly melted body inside.

Gyarados is nowhere in sight, the sound of a distant explosion coming from deeper in the surrounding woods. Geodude lies smoking in a crater. Fearow’s head, for some reason buried below the surface of the lake, emerges to grin viciously.

Metapod snags and reels in Geodude, but before they can escape Fearow’s Fly lands. A max damage crit (16 dmg). Metapod is one-shot through all three Hardens from full health. Bulbasaur’s vines yank the pair out of goopy bird jaws, back into the safety of the cottage. With only the patter of rain and a single hit point left as company, they pray.

A miracle. The Pokeball Metapod found is occupied. Its confused resident, Eevee, breathes fresh air for the first time in decades.



“Who are you?”
”Where’s Bill?” “…Oh my god you’re hur-“

“Child”, Bulbasaur interjects, “you must be brave. The wheel of time has turned dark in your long absence. There are monsters outside. Do you know another way out?”

Eevee was always good at being brave.

“The sewers! There’s a secret entrance to the data center - we can get help!"

Eevee lifts a panel off the tiled floor with his teeth. Hidden beneath, a rusted ladder descends into darkness. Bulbasaur learns and uses Flash while Eevee adheres Metapod and Geodude to their respective backs with lingering String Shot goo.

At the base of the now illuminated sewer, a somehow even sloppier Grimer crawls out of sight on distressingly fast pseudopod arms. Bulbasaur takes a breath, and descends into the colder hell on offer.

Credit: lumpyspirit

“Aww… fiddlesticks!!” Eevee unleashes its most vicious profanity at the polished metal door below. A hand scanner, made obviously for human hands, bars the way. Bulbasaur adjusts their collar, the light at the tip of their bulb a weak flashlight into the maze of dark beyond. “I guess… this should be connected to the Cerulean sewers. We could… walk back?”

Three time die rolls in the long dark. Finally, good fortune - two item discoveries (potion, burn heal) and a change of weather. The monsters below abhor the light.

After hours of vile trudging, Eevee and Bulbasaur emerge, backs sagging with the weight of their injured friends, by the river outside Cerulean Cave. The rain sputters and dies as the clouds break over a starlit city.

System Matters, but it doesn’t matter most.

Despite spending half the session as a melting stone, W. couldn’t stop laughing. That Hyper Beam could’ve just as easily done zero damage instead - combat doesn’t get swingier than this, folks. Open rolls, a ridiculous premise, and goofy friends are all you need, and Into the Oddish knew it. Mea culpa. May all my future skepticism be equally banished with joy.

Remember to keep your systemic quibbles in perspective. The play is the thing, and the play is good.

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