Well, I'm going for it.

I'm writing this story for Smash King24's Christmas Contest. It's a Diddy Kong SSB story with references to the Donkey Kong universe, costarring Dixie Kong, who is a sticker or trophy, and including cameos by the other Kongs who show up as stickers or trophies to my recollection.

It's up to SK24 to decide if it fits or not. If it doesn't fit, well, I'm loving being able to write it anyways, so I'll keep at it. It has an interesting time structure, with the letters carrying the story between vignettes. The first vignette is in the past, or the "then", the second is in the "now" that helps carry the letter, and then the "forever" is the last vignette. The letters tie all three together. Also in the vein of Tarantino to go with the timeline oddities, I plan on referencing a lot of actual music despite it being a human slight AU of the actual Nintendo universe.

If you don't think it fits the qualifications of the theme, then disqualify me now and get it over with so I can write in peace. But considering we have a story about the FE characters running around in an airport, I think I should be good.

Regardless, I'm happy to be writing something that I'm enjoying writing and I'll do that regardless of whether I'm in or not.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, regret nothing, and let them forget nothing. I also used no song lyrics and plan to use none, although I may have made a mistake.

Let's go!

(P.S. see if you can spot the Donkey Kong Country 2 Soundtrack Trivia!)

"In this week's class, I'd like to teach you a little about synergy and contrast."

That was his cue. Wrinkly ushered him out from behind the curtain. Diddy Kong laid eyes on the class, who looked up at him expectantly. He brushed it off with a toothy smile and a quick wave, trying not to look as nerved out as he felt. He had the vague details of the performance Wrinkly asked of him- get your turntables, prepare a track that you think represents you, and prepare for a challenger that's nothing like you. Some Dixie Kong chick. He could handle her, he assumed.

He took his seat behind his favorite turntable, which had been propped up on one of the classroom tables. To show off a bit, he played around with the two records he'd chosen, gleefully letting it scratch with the utmost style. The class cheered, the enthusiasm filling the room despite being half-empty. In the back, Diddy noticed Donkey waving at him with a grin that could start a toothpaste campaign. Diddy nodded, thinking that it'd make him look like more of a badass, and Donkey responded by tightening his tie (despite being blisteringly shirtless) and nodding back.

Diddy grinned, stopping the record and facing the crowd, theatrically raising his eyebrow with an excited gleam in his eye. The audience applauded, and the encouragement became his adrenaline. He cheered back with a large whoop, happy to be the teacher for once.

Wrinkly raised her hands with a wistful smile, which quieted the crowd. Diddy stopped short of another whoop to hear her speak.

"This is my dear nephew Diddy Kong," she introduced. "He's become one of my most shining examples of a student in the music class. He chose his path in electronic music, and dare I say he does quite well for himself."

That was enough of an ego boost- Diddy let loose a sample of what he could do, mixing up his two tracks with ease to create a brand new sound. Would most people mix Neil Young with some house electronic groove? No, because most people would call it sacrilegious, but the last thing Diddy would describe himself as would be reverent. Rock and roll could be here to stay, but that didn't mean Diddy wouldn't test the boundaries a little bit.

Before he and the crowd could get a little too into it, Wrinkly put her hand up in the air. Just like he did in his years as a kid in music class, he stopped like there was a brick wall dropped in front of him. "Thank you," she said with the barest hint of sarcasm, "that will be good for now. For now, I'd like to introduce my second student, if she could find her way out."

Diddy smirked as he took a look to the left, glancing at the empty space on the stage next to Wrinkly, possessing only a microphone. So his opponent was a minimalist. Probably very Earthy. Sure, he'd keep an open mind, but it was going to take more than a guitar to impress him. His opponent had better be damn good at playing it.

~MoD~

To: Dixie Kong

From: Diddy Kong

November 1st

Dear Dixie,

Hey babe! Hope you're getting lots of snow! We get some over here in Junction City by the boarding houses, but it's boring as hell cause they just round it up with their machines, clear the roads, and get back to business. I wish they'd just let it snow.

I got here safely, duh, otherwise you wouldn't get my letter. Just settling in for now. I'm moving into my room, and already I've gotten bunked with four people this time, not just three. Three are from the last tourney, but already there's a newbie. Her name's Lucina, and she doesn't talk much, but she has a nice voice so maybe she sings well and that's how we can get to know each other.

I still wish I was bunking with you. It's so stupid that they didn't call you to go with me, but I'm still glad I'm here anyways. I came so close to winning last time and I know I can do it again. Count on it, babe! I'm bringing home the gold and there's nothing Meta Knight or anyone else can do about it. I'm gonna make you proud! The first match is on the 8th, so maybe you can catch it on TV or something! I'll be in the prelims so it's nothing super fancy, but it soon will be!

Then there's Uncle Donkey. Thank God he got to bunk with me because I already feel like a scared little kid with all these big bad names and these super talented people, but with Uncle D around it makes things easier. Even then, Uncle D's been kind of strange lately. And I guess it's cause Great-Aunt Wrinkly and all, but he's definitely changed. I mean, today he just said that he wasn't in it to compete. And I'm just like, why are you here? He looked at me with those sad eyes he's had since she died, and he says when I'm older I'll understand what's important in my life.

Isn't that rude? I know compared to him I'm as old as a mayfly but that doesn't mean I'm not smart in what is important in life. For one, I'm with you so clearly I should get bonus points for that. For another, I love music and I'm good at music and I can make a future out of that with you. For a third, I do really well in tournaments and that's why I'm here! Third place is nice and all but I'm ready to win. If Donkey doesn't want to win, that's easier for me!

Okay, maybe I shouldn't be so frustrated with him, but you remember when we first performed right? You said that you liked that I was really into it and that I took you seriously, cause no one really takes a small girl with a big guitar seriously which is really stupid because you make good music. And so I always don't like it when people underestimate me for the same reason. We're just kids to most people, but you and I know what we're capable of.

I dunno. Between the whole Crocodile Isle thing and Great Aunt Wrinkly dying, Uncle D hasn't been the same. Maybe it's just hard to watch cause he's been such a protector to me and it's hard to see him like this. I mean, I loved Great Aunt Wrinkly, but, she wasn't my mom, so…

This letter's getting too sad for my tastes. Speaking of her, how's the school going? I bet you're doing a great job as the music teacher, but I hope it's not a tough adjustment. The kids better be treating you well especially after all we went through. If they don't think you're capable, I know where Great-Aunt Wrinkly kept the yardstick for unruly students. Now she never hit anyone though! She just scared us into being quiet. But I won't tell anyone if you don't.

Let me know all about how that's going, cause it's always weird when all I can talk about is myself. I hope you're doing well, and I hope the snow feels nice on you. You always did remind me of how nice it is to be warm in cold weather.

Oh! Oh! The three questions! I guess since this is the first letter I'll start us off.

One: What's your favorite song right now? The cold weather makes me think of this song called Antarctica by Vangelis that I love. I bet I could make a really good beat out of that. The Christmas music's already starting on the radios, and I guess I should find it charming, but for God's sake it's NOVEMBER. Let me enjoy my normal people music in peace.

Two: If you and I could be in any place on Earth right now, where would you want us to be? Man I wish you could be here on the boardwalk with me. I always thought it was such a summery place to be but in the winter the water's all frozen, and not even the crews can do anything to stop that. It's like winter's last stand. I bet you'd like it.

Three: If you could have anything for Christmas, what would it be? I ask this because I may or may not be awful at figuring out gifts on my own. I can neither confirm nor deny this.

I'll send this off and hopefully you get it soon. I love you a whole bunch like bananas and I miss you like I miss the snow on the streets.

3

Diddy Kong.

~MoD~

It was Dixie's idea to suggest a wake. Admittedly part of the reason was that she didn't have any black clothes outside of a Metallica T-shirt, which obviously wouldn't have been fitting. Still, she'd been to enough funerals to know that she'd rather not attend any more. Besides, as the daughter of the circus owner, Dixie grew up in a celebratory environment, and knew the power of masking grief. A wake seemed like the best way to do that.

As usual, Dixie was the quietest one on the couch, happy to listen to the others recount stories of Wrinkly, despite there being a few tears in many eyes. Dixie couldn't tell if her dry eyes meant she could see clearer or if she was just blind. All she could do was let Diddy lean against her and hold him tight, seeing as he'd already cried himself out and she had strength to spare.

Around her were the other Kongs she'd grown to know and accept as family, including her own dad Swanky, the children of the deceased Donkey and Funky, and the ex-husband Cranky, who had managed to be civil and respectful of her for the first time in possibly a decade, according to Diddy. Everyone else had gone, but these six were the ones who cared to stay.

Her Pops spoke, finding himself once again the ringleader of the celebration. "Wrinkly Kong is a charming lady," he began in his cheesy yet strangely charming hosting voice. "She's a woman that would remind anyone of their mothers, between her kind words and constructive methods, and the unmovable strictness of anyone who wants to see her children blossom against adversity."

Donkey, arm around Pops and his own beer in hand, nodded profusely as if any stability would lead to him falling over. "Damn straight, Swanky. That's how she was." He swallowed, fighting against his own tears.

Swanky patted him on the back. "It showed in her own offspring like our Donkey here. It takes a hell of a woman to raise a chief, but there's no doubt she succeeded. That isn't to minimize Funky, whose spirit and cheer could shelter a group of people from a hundred rainy days."

Donkey nodded again. Dixie knew that if he talked, he'd probably cry, so she didn't blame him for keeping quiet. Funky was freely crying but nodded with a smile.

"Hell, I remember when she was on the rescue team with us for Donkey," he continued. Dixie could see Donkey shake against him, his attempts at swallowing his sobs beating against his chest like a bongo drum. "I'll admit, because I've been wrong many times before, that I was unsure what she could offer in her eighty-seven years of age. Never in a million years did I expect her to open up a school on one of the pirate shores to gain intel, but I'll tell you what, when I heard the Kremlings' GPA average went up by a full point over that term, I was anything but shocked. She could teach even the worst of them, and the fact that she would even try speaks to her character more than anything."

"A-fucking-men." Funky held his beer bottle in the air for a toast, and Dixie watched everyone else clink their bottles together. She saw the tears streamed on the pilot's face like war paint, but the grin on his face hearing the stories of his mother created the most natural duality she'd ever seen.

"Class act," Cranky wheezed, and for the first time in her knowledge of him, he didn't sound sarcastic. He downed the rest of the beer and reached for another.

It became silent, frighteningly so. Diddy had fallen asleep on her shoulder, Swanky had his eyes closed, ruminating. Donkey measured each breath in a pattern Dixie recognized whenever she needed to find inner peace. Cranky was popping open his fourth beer and quietly chugging it down as if he expected his tomorrows to disappear with Wrinkly's. Funky lay haphazardly in his seat, waiting for the alcohol to take him to sleep.

The silence needled at Dixie, and she knew it was time to speak or she'd lose her mind.

"I…" she swallowed. Was she ready to do this? Everyone perked up and gave her their attention, letting know that she'd damn well better be. "I didn't know Wrinkly that well. My relationship with her was inherited with mine and Diddy's and all that. But I do remember the first music performance we had that she put on for a lesson. It was a really beautiful lesson, and it taught me a lot of what I know. It's why this lovely young man and I are together right now."

It was time for her pitch, and if there was anything Swanky's daughter should have learned by now, it was making a good pitch. "Music has been a part of my life since as long as I remember. I'm pretty sure I could strum a guitar before I could walk on my own two feet. Wrinkly taught me how to look at music in a whole new light, and now it's a part of my soul I could never replace. I…"

Deep breaths, rythmic breaths, just like Donkey. "I want to give other students that experience, so if you all need another music teacher to fill in… it would be my honor. I can be an apprentice if you need, so you don't have to pay me. I'm not looking to cash in on someone else's grave. I just want to pick up where she left off so that her loss doesn't leave the world entirely devoid of her presence."

Now she was starting to cry, her own words hitting her with full force. Nevertheless, she didn't lower her head or stand down. She looked up at them, waiting for their response. She was surprised when she felt her father's arm descend on her shoulder, pulling her close to his chest, Diddy in tow. "That's my girl," he cooed.

"Aw, Pops..." she breathed, trying not to lose it.

Cranky slammed his beer on the table, startling the crowd. "Woman," he said, staring her dead on. "You got chutzpah. And that's what attracted me to that woman in the first place. Both the kind of women who lead the dance, and I like that. Maybe it's the booze talkin', but I'm in."

Funky nodded, his grin wider than ever even though his tears flowed like rapids. "It'd be nothin' short of an honor, little Kong."

Donkey snuck from underneath Swanky's arm, standing up in front of Dixie. As she stood, carefully resting Diddy against the couch, she was reminded of the fact that even in his most welcoming state, Donkey was a full foot and a half taller than her, with the strength in both build and character to match. Despite herself, she was terrified, until Donkey reached out and wrapped her in a hug, finally breaking down. Dixie swallowed back her own tears, willing to be the support system once more.

Donkey pulled away after a few endless moments, and looked her square in the eye, on bent knee to match her level. "I'm a fortunate man, kid," he told her, "in that I've been able to welcome you and your pops into my life."

Dixie nodded, a tease of a smile at her lips. "The feeling's mutual. I won't let you down."

"I'd never even feared as much."

~MoD~

To: Diddy

From: Dixie

November 4

My dear Diddy, the snow is returning here. It's a lot like the day we left for Croc Isle; the Christmas lights are even strung up the same way. Speaking of strung up, I honestly wish I could smack some sense into my TA. Candy's a nice enough lady but good lord, put her in a classroom with a bunch of needy students, and I swear you can hear the wires snap. Barflies like her are never good with kids, in my experience. There was a lady in Pops' show that was like her- the tightrope act, beautiful as a statue, could walk over a line of floss and not even leave a dent, but a complete drunk on the side who I swear would hiss if a child got near her. I think what keeps me from slapping Candy is the fact that at least she's not that bad.

That, and I suppose it'd be a bad example for the kids, and apparently I'm supposed to care about that.

It's funny that you mention the Christmas music, because that has been us all week. We've got our annual choir performance to work on and all. I'm with you in that I'm already sick of it, although I'd stretch to find Vangelis as normal people music.

I will get the elephant out of the room in regards to Wrinkly's passing and say that it does feel weird without her. There's been three months to separate us from her grave, yet it still doesn't feel right to be the new teacher. I feel a lot like a little girl trying to wear a woman's heels, but I suppose the feeling will pass and I'll walk right in them.

As for Donkey, grief does funny things to people even in its smallest form. Hell, Gerard Smith passed away a few years ago, and despite only having one TV on the Radio song in memory I always notice the bassline in that song in a way I never had before. Neither of us would need to imagine that feeling of loss compounded into our own mothers, but to lose a parent as an adult is an entirely different process. I certainly don't think he means to insult you; the fact of the matter is, age changes our perception of the world, and this is a strong example.

When I think of my mother, I realize I project a lot into an empty hole in my memory. Donkey has an entire lifetime with her to reflect upon. Imagine all of the arguments, all of the lessons, all of the great moments, hurt feelings, trials and accomplishments that you could have with one person for thirty years, all of that just ends abruptly. All you can do is reflect on what was, worry about what you left her with, and try and find ways to move on without her.

I don't profess to be a professional psychiatrist, as I'd be extremely uncaring in most circumstances. I feel like the best way you could help out Donkey is to be supportive of him when he needs a friend, but don't push your fear onto him. If he needs you, he trusts you enough to ask you for help. After all, you two have been through so much together.

And, of course, if he doesn't want to compete, kick his ass.

Anyway, onto lighter subjects: I will certainly be watching the preliminaries live. I hope there was no doubt about that. As for my not being here, I suppose I'll consider it serendipity, because now I can help the music class learn ear-grating Christmas carols.

That's a bummer about the snow. We've just got our first batch, and honestly I'd gladly send some over to you. This shit is everywhere and I wish they'd at least put some effort into cleaning the streets.

Lucina seems like a nice lady. I read up on her bio before writing this letter, and she seems like a talented swordsfighter. Watching her interviews, however, she did seem a little shy (which you certainly weren't in yours; I feel like I learned more about your bathing habits there then I have in person) so perhaps a subtler approach with her will work.

Time for the three questions!

My favorite song right now? Really, any song other than The Most Wonderful Time of the Year. (It is a perfectly average time, thank you very much). If I had to pick one, it's a little less esoteric than Vangelis. Getting back into Jimi; forgot how much of a classic All Along the Watchtower is. That's a song I'd love to get down to and play before my guitar gathers rust.

One place I wish we were at right now, you little romantic? The bayous. I needn't say more.

What would I like for Christmas? (Damn it, I had hoped you wouldn't ask, because I never know.) Definitely… something that brings change. I feel like I did back in the corn fields where I just wanted the surroundings to change, even if I never stayed in the same place being with Pops in the show and all. I don't need to leave for something to change, and you're basically an agent of chaos, so I don't doubt you can figure something out.

My three questions for you:

One: Who in this tournament strikes you as the biggest threat, and what's one thing you can do to understand them? (Yes, compound question, sue me. These are a teacher's most valuable tools.)

Two: Were you not a Smash Brothers fighter, what would you see yourself doing with your life?

Three: Do you know what happened to the key for the supplies closet went? I never got to ask Wrinkly and the door is sealed shut.

Don't cry for me, Argentina, for I remain quite near to you.

With love, Dixie Kong.

~MoD~

"You all have your homework, I won't waste time repeating it to y'all. Stay warm, stay safe, and I'll see you guys on Monday. We've only one week to go before performances."

Dixie rang the cowbell, substituting for the defunct school bell. The kids got up with more unison than they played with, grabbing their books and instruments in a hurry, ready to go to their next class. She leaned back into her chair, exhaling as the class emptied quicker than her lungs could. Breathe in, breathe out, repeat.

Candy interrupted her peace. "Shit, darlin', can I get the key to the closet?"

Dixie sighed, wordlessly pulling herself up to her desk and looking in the drawer. She found the key in the box she reserved for it lest it get misplaced again, and handed it over to Candy.

"Thanks," she replied, an uneasy grin on her face. Already disrupted, Dixie got out of her chair and followed Candy to the music closet, hearing her whistle decidedly off-key through the hallways, desperately wanting to correct it but not wanting the hassle.

Candy finally acknowledged her existence. Not looking back, she asked, "Miss Dixie, anything I can help you with, precious?"

Dixie clenched her fist. Leave it to Candy to make someone feel like they just got a sloppy kiss from their aunt. "Nothin' much, just wanted to check something."

"Sure, sure, sweetheart."

Candy took up the off-key whistling again, thankfully only just before they reached the closet. As soon as it was open, Dixie walked in, heading straight for her guitar, which was in a hot pink case and covered in band logos, many of them black or white.

"There she is," she cooed, picking it up and strapping it to her chest.

"Ma'am, I only hope you hold your first child the same way you hold that guitar," Candy 'playfully' chastised her, causing Dixie to glower. Candy was a traditional type of woman, and reminded Dixie of how much she wasn't… any particular type of woman, really. She just was Dixie, and Candy's sugar-sweet demeanor and short-shorts-in-December appearance threw Dixie off, because she wasn't sure how her tiny, humble self compared, save for the moments where Candy reminded her. Right now, Dixie just really wanted Candy to shut her whore mouth and leave her be so she could alleviate her frustration on her jams, so she silently walked out, pushing her assistant out of the way.

"Aw, don't take it so harshly, sweetums!" Candy called, trying to play damage control. "I'm just trying to help a young lady like yourself. You know I've got your back with all the wisdom you need."

Dixie finally snapped.

"Bug me later with them. I've got a hard decision I've got to make for myself. Consider yourself fortunate that you don't have to make any of your own."

The dejected, aptly silenced look on Candy's face was sickening, sweet, and sickeningly sweet to Dixie's soul. She found herself running around the corner, although she didn't know why, eventually slamming herself down on a bench. She opened the guitar case, pulling out a small letter, one with only two sentences.

She read it, feeling the tears resurface, before putting it back, not even looking at the guitar or the small box peeking out of the sound hole before closing it again. She couldn't help but feel terrified, sitting there clutching the case like the rigging of the ships she was out climbing this time last year, but she also knew this was going to be a decision that defined her. Nothing Candy could say would help Dixie find what kind of woman she was like the choice she had to make. Her will was already set, but what if that was the problem all along?