I already know how this looks, okay? A couple of months ago, I also would have said that anyone who would even consider paying a professional to kill an entire population of Nintendo’s most adorable and amicable group of mascots was a monster. But trust me, if you had the little critters marching around your kitchen all day, rapidly plucking grapes from the stems and digging holes in the counter so they can burrow up onto the stove, you’d be singing a different tune. All that being said, the fees for getting rid of the little twats were outrageous.
I get that Pikmin are an incredibly intelligent species with a wide variety of immunities to common extermination techniques, but I was feeling seriously ripped off by the time Pikky Pests Pest Control was done and I was handed my final bill and I counted all the digits. Clearly I should have become an exterminator instead of majoring in English at a liberal arts college.
Anyway, here’s a list of every Pikmin type ranked by how much it cost me to get them exterminated, just in case they start to mistake your kitchen for Hero’s Hideaway too. Hopefully something worthwhile can still come out of this economic nightmare that has overtaken my entire life.
11. Purple Pikmin
Sure, purple Pikmin are probably really tough for other small creatures to stand up to, but the worst they could really do to my exterminator was body slam into his foot and give him a stubbed toe. They’re awfully slow too, so he just threw some nectar down as bait and then hit them with an insect vacuum. He even docked about 5% of his regular rate from my payment, which was a real relief. Apparently he’s been dealing with a huge outbreak of Waterwraiths at another house, so capturing these guys was a big help for him, and for my wallet. Unfortunately, the purples stole the solid gold bar that I inherited from my great grandfather before anyone could make it in, rendering the small bucks that I saved in this transaction null and void.
10. Rock Pikmin
It turns out that rock Pikmin are pretty helpless if no one’s throwing them, so pest control was able to hose them out of my plate cabinet with relative ease. While they did just charge me the regular rate, which was great, I do have to admit that I got a little attached to those beady little eyes and clumsy pebble bodies. I understand why exterminating the rock Pikmin was necessary, but I find myself left with nothing but a cold feeling in my heart from the cruel fate I have wrought upon these creatures. They were shattering all of my fine china though, so I’ll probably get over it.
9. Blue Pikmin
Exterminating the blue Pikmin with permethrin spray was an easy, one man job, though there was one issue: They have mouths. I could tell just from looking at that poor guy’s haunted eyes that the anguished screams of blue Pikmin have been haunting him for many long nights, so I gave him a 20% tip even though exterminators don’t usually ask for that sort of thing. I may be strapped for cash, but I’m still an empath.
8. Ice Pikmin
So here I am washing the dishes, my sink all filled up with hot water, and I bend down and reach underwater for the last plate when thirty ice Pikmin jump into the sink and instantly freeze everything in the water, hands and all. After about twenty minutes of screaming “HEY SIRI” across the room I managed to call Pikky Pests and get them to come in for an emergency extermination.
Now, here’s the point where I need to make an embarrassing confession: I enjoy washing my dishes naked. So here I am, frozen in this extremely suggestive and vulnerable position, when the guy they sent walks in, stares in silence for a moment, and then wordlessly walks right up next to me and pinches every last one of those miserable twats into oblivion while I try not to squirm and scream at the frostbite spreading up my arms. He did such a good job at remaining stoic and not humiliating me that I couldn’t even complain when he charged me a hefty “Emergency Appointment” fee, and an even heftier fee that he simply listed as “Emotional Trauma.” I try to take some solace in knowing that this could end up being the push he needed to finally start going to therapy.
7. Red Pikmin
I thought I’d get away with a pretty normal payment for clearing out all of the red Pikmin regularly lying around on my stove and sticking their noses where they don’t belong, but the company referred me to a supposed “Red Pikmin Expert” who was ultimately way worse than the usual guys in every way. His hands were covered in brown-orange slime when he came in (apparently he’s been handling an outbreak of The Flood at another house), and he shoved those nasty fingers right up my favorite pair of oven mitts without asking. I was still stewing when he handed me the bill.
On top of his increased rate, he charged me another $25 for “Additional Fees”, which he explained away by grinning savagely and saying, “Those fuckers are fighters, bro!” Then he farted loudly, walked back to his truck that had no muffler and roared away, launching a pile of Flood into the middle of the street that proceeded to infect half of my neighborhood. The next time I get red Pikmin, I’m just going to chuck some bomb rocks into my oven and call it a day.
6. Mushroom Pikmin
I didn’t think the mushroom Pikmin vegging out in my compost bin would be too difficult to get rid of until the exterminator reminded me that there must be a puffstool around that created the mushroom Pikmin in the first place. So while the Pikmin were easy enough to get out, Pikky Pests Co. had to send in a whole team to assist in fireproofing our kitchen and providing the necessary equipment to incinerate the bloated puff which they found dwelling under our sink. The bill was pretty steep after all of that, but I guess I should just be glad that no one got turned into an aggressive mushroom person who tried to attack me. My health insurance plan wouldn’t have covered any part of that.
5. Flying Pikmin
Five months after the flying Pikmin were cleared out of my kitchen, I received a bill from Pikky Pests citing outstanding charges for $12235 worth of stolen equipment. Apparently a bunch of the escaping flying Pikmin picked up some of their gear and flew off into the sunset, which hardly seems like my fault, but what was I supposed to do, disobey the law? My wife would not approve.
I’m paying up for now, but with the amount of debt I’m starting to rack up, it really might not be long before I’m forced to follow the flying Pikmin’s example and go on the lam.
4. Yellow Pikmin
Yellow Pikmin are incredibly good at jumping and digging, so of course they snuck into a lot of cabinets, drawers and floorboards that the exterminator had to spend days going through, and I’ve commissioned this company so many times that they’re starting to charge me to pay overtime by the hour. They also charged extra to set up a bunch of bug zappers, forgetting that yellow Pikmin are completely immune to electricity. The zappers were quickly destroyed by the yellows, and guess who had to cover that loss?
3. Glow Pikmin
Having these guys in my kitchen was a literal and figurative nightmare. Not only are they practically unkillable, but every exterminator who came in panicked as soon as they saw one, fled the premises, and promptly sued me for commissioning him for “Paranormal Activities,” which apparently isn’t in their job description. Then I had to go and hire an exorcist, and everyone knows those guys have the worst rates ever. Thanks a lot, glow Pikmin. Guess I’m cutting into my son’s college savings.
2. Bulbmin
After consuming ten drops of ultra-spicy spray, a pack of savage bulbmin grew powerful enough to ruthlessly murder an innocent member of Pikky Pests’ top extermination team, leaving behind a co-parent, three kids, and a ripe opportunity for an enormous lawsuit. While I will always grieve the innocent, I must admit that I grieved the predatory loans that my family had to take on to survive this lawsuit even more.
1. White Pikmin
The white Pikmin were great to have around to get rid of all of the toxic mold that was apparently growing in our walls, but that’s just about the only nice thing I have to say about them. Immune to poison, too smart to get near water, and too quick to be caught by fire? I didn’t think I’d ever get my kitchen back (or any money, ever) after two months of daily extermination work.
The CEO of Pikky Pests himself eventually came to deliver the bill to me, offering to waive a few of the fees if I pledged to do 100 hours of unpaid labor, where I would search for treasure and give it back to his company. I don’t know what kind of company he’s running, or why he looks so similar to the seedy president of Hocotate Freight, but one thing’s for sure: Next time I need extermination work done, I’m just hiring Orkin.
At least my kitchen looks presentable again; now I just need to convince The King Of All Cosmos to stop letting his son roll a sphere around my dining room to collect all of our good forks.
