A Cubone is small, thus cute. This is an established property, so it shouldn’t raise much controversy.
A Cubone’s color-scheme is probably the most realistic of all Pokemon, to the point where you could see this and think holy fuck that’s a Cubone, in the world, today; I’d better not fuck with it.
Additionally, all Cubones wear the skull of their mother as a helmet, which is fucking metal and tragic, thus poignant yet empowering and a little endearingly weird, like Batman.
And much like The Bat, Cubone is resourceful; we can only presume that a Cubone’s bone club is from one of their many fallen enemies, but what we do know is that Cubones are intelligent, because this is a Pokemon that has figured out how to use a tool to defend its fragile meat body in a hostile, superpower-dominated ecosystem.
This makes Cubone a metaphor for humanity, and indeed, Cubone is fundamentally relatable.
The bone is said to be taken from a hidden graveyard; Cubones even know about all the cool hidden places that you don’t, probably because they need somewhere to stash the bodies of angry aggressors.
And if they dual wielded, Cubone would probably be a good drummer. The best drummer of all the Pokemon.
Cubones are known as the Lonely Pokemon, avoiding social situations, as all Cubones (no exceptions, sadly) were apparently traumatized by the death of their mother. In fact, Cubones weep at night, haunted by the memory of loss and the echo of their protective yet imprisoning helmet, which vibrates and emits “a plaintive and mournful sound” as they feel their distress. On full moons, this howling has a particular sadness, and is said to inspire tears in the eyes of passerby, and well it should.
This means Cubones are quite familiar with depression and social anxiety, and I don’t know about you, but this comforts me in my times of utter desolation; rest safe in the fact that the humble Cubone has been through worse and still prospers, growing up alone in a hostile world dominated by prideful, dismissive Machokes who don’t understand the difficulty of not being made out of tough, jerky-like muscle; clubbing foolish Zubats who scream about cave walls and other topogrophies; negotiating with evil spirits and awful memories, yet remaining stoically adorable and only moderately distant.
You see, they let themselves be captured, because they really do want company. They can still feel love after their ordeals; they never forget that they survive only by its protection, so they cannot take it for granted.
And despite all this trauma, this suffering and difficulty, Cubones grow up. They become clever Marowaks, bad to the bone and ready to rumble. But, with hearts of gold, because their hearts aren’t made of bone, I think.
Marowaks live in the mountains to test their skills, and continually improve themselves in every fashion. They are the hermit sages of Pokemon.
A Cubone will always be in my party; a Cubone will always be in my heart. Along with a Sandshrew, which can roll itself into a ball and throw sand. I like to think Sandshrews are a Cubone’s comedic foil. Anyway.
They may be hard-headed, but damn if that isn’t their strength. They are the best Pokemon.