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They came. They saw. They sold.

The all-out assault on the American pocketbook by video-game giant Nintendo began Thursday when it launched in Topeka a Pokemon invasion of the United States.

Pokemon (pronounced POH-kay-mahn), which is Japanese for "pocket monsters," is the No. 1 Game Boy game and the top-rated television cartoon in Japan.

In less than 24 months in Japan, Nintendo sold more than 9 million copies of Pokemon.

Combined with a just-released, feature-length film, the animated television series, a virtual pet, best-selling comic books, a line of plush toys, action figures and hundreds of other game-related items, Pokemon has grown into a $4 billion industry in Japan.

Seeking to recreate the phenomenon in the United States, Nintendo of America Inc., the Richmond, Wash.-based subsidiary of the Kyoto, Japan, game manufacturer, dropped its first salvo of Pokemon hype smack dab in the middle of America.



Children and parents raced to grab one of several Pikachu stuffed animals, which were dropped from the sky over Forbes Field in Topeka, renamed "ToPikachu" during Nintendo's promotion for the new Game Boy video game "Pokemon." Nik Wilets/The Capital-Journal

The Kansas kids became the first in the United States to play Pokemon and receive game-branded merchandise, including T-shirts and toys. KFC, which will launch a $17 million Pokemon promotion in November, served box lunches to the crowd.

Children also watched the Pokemon television series, which will debut Sept. 7 in more than 90 percent of U.S. markets. (No Topeka station has picked up the syndicated cartoon.)

The kids also were taught a Pokemon dance.

What kind of dance?

Well, the Hokey-Pokemon, of course.

Around noon, 10 bright yellow Volkswagen Beetles drove into the carnival site.



This is the "credential" that was given to all of the children who attended the Pokemon event. CJ Online staff

Mayor Joan Wagnon drove the lead car in the Poke-Patrol, which left Topeka for Atlanta, Boston, Cincinnati, Dallas, Denver, Los Angeles, Minneapolis, San Francisco, Seattle and Tampa, Fla., to continue the marketing effort leading to Pokemon hitting store shelves Sept. 28.

Wagnon then went to a microphone to read a proclamation in which she "surrendered" the state capital to the invading Pokemon.

As a concession to the conquering critters, Wagnon renamed the city after Pikachu (pronounced PEEK-uh-chew) and watched as the official ToPikachu flag was hoisted.

The flag's centerpiece was Pikachu, which Wagnon described as a "little bitty yellow guy with vast powers." The flag also bore the city's new motto: "In Pokemon We Trust."

Then came the main event.

As children lined up along a fence line, nine members of the Greater Kansas City Skydivers Club in Pikachu-yellow jumpsuits drifted to the ground with smoke and streamers trailing.

Soon after, hundreds of smaller parachutes appeared as an airplane dropped 750 Pikachu plush toys. Hasbro, the U.S. toymaker that Nintendo licensed to make Pokemon toys, will start selling the 8-inch-tall Pokemon Plush for $9.99 each in mid-November.

At the announcer's signal, the anxious children scrambled to pluck a Pokemon Plush from the ground. Those not fleet enough of foot were given a Pokemon ball or other small toy as a consolation gift.



This is the certificate that was given to all of the children who attended the Pokemon event. CJ Online staff

Advisories of the Topeka event were distributed worldwide, and the event was included on Pokemon Web sites at www.pokemon.com and www.nintendo.com

While the Pokemon party proved a success, it was free.

The question now is whether youths will spend their allowances on Pokemon.

If the reaction of northeast Kansas kids is any gauge, Nintendo can start counting its profits.

Lucas Akin's well-practiced thumb flicked back and forth on the video game control pad as he maneuvered his way through a game of Pokemon.

"Pretty neat," was how the St. Marys sixth-grader described the game.

Steven Townsend, a sixth-grader at Berryton Elementary School, agreed, saying Pokemon could easily replace Zelda as his favorite Nintendo game.

When asked whether he thought he would be asking his folks to buy him a Pokemon game when it comes out Sept. 28, Steven offered an enthusiastic "Yeah."

Although his mother let him cut a few hours of school Thursday to attend the Pokemon party, Ellen Townsend exercised some parental prerogative, suggesting, "Or you can save your money and buy it yourself."

"Yeah," was the less enthusiastic response from Steven, his thumb flying over the control pad as he sought to capture another Pokemon.