Red, the fighter.

Perhaps, because of the title, when you hear about him you would imagine someone serious, strategic and strong. Well, at least that was his rival, Blue. But Red was different. And you didn't know if that was good or bad.

Knowing him, you already knew he was devoid of intelligence. But even when it came to flirting? Sometimes that was ridiculous.

"My type?" Red smiled, scratching under the tip of his nose with his index finger. "I don't think I have a type, you know. My starter was Bulbasaur, which is a grass type, but I have other Pokémon, like my Pikachu, which is an electric type."

He looked back at you, still with that smile on his face. You asked him what his type was for a partner and he thought it was a pokémon type. What a moron.