I started writing this when the Joker DLC was released. But then life got in the way and I fell sick and now this is late by a couple of weeks. Oh well, better late than never. This is sort of a sequel to Steal Your Way In, but can be read standalone.
Joker had a gun.
It was silver grey, modelled after a Russian TT33 pistol and fit nice and snug within the confines of his phantom cloak. He used it in his default neutral special, carried it in all his promotional material and could even taunt with it by performing a nifty little spinning trick. Whenever someone called the model outdated, Joker was always quick to remind that his gun had ended deities capable of destroying humanity with a snap of their fingers, thank you very much.
In short, Joker and his gun were inseparable and the whole world knew it. So when he opened up a newspaper at breakfast, he was surprised to see an article complaining about his gun a few pages in.
'JOKER: Handsome rogue or harmful influence in the making? Beware the power of a man with a gun!' the title read. The author was anonymous.
After giving the article a quick skim (not in detail—t was far too early to be burning his precious brain cells), he realized the author's ire revolved around Joker's stylish fighting style with gadgets and guns and how might one day become a harmful influence to young children. Or something. Honestly he couldn't read past the first few paragraphs.
"This is ridiculous." Joker muttered under his breath. He closed the paper, shaking his head the while.
"What's ridiculous?" Fox said, coming to sit across Joker's table in the dining room with a bowl of oatmeal and a protein smoothie.
Wordlessly, Joker passed over the newspaper. Fox read the article, his canid expression shifting between confusion, irritation and eventually gentle understanding.
"Your first press controversy, eh?" Fox said, whistling and passing the paper back. "About time."
"What, does this happen to everybody?" Joker asked.
"Afraid so. The media and the public love a good celebrity scandal, even if it's over something really dumb." Fox said. "Didn't something like this happen to you back in Tokyo?"
True, it wasn't the first time the mass media had tried to paint Joker as something he wasn't. But why go after his guns, when his fellow Smashers carried far more deadly weapons of mass destruction? Hell, the vulpine sitting across the table for him carried a laser gun and piloted a flying spaceship capable of dropping hydrogen bombs, for God's sake. Then there was Bayonetta, whose firearms were literally demonic (and was not his mother, no matter what thirsty fangirls said).
"Robin just won 100 coins again, the smart bastard…" Fox mumbled. "Next time we shouldn't let him join in…."
"Excuse me?"
"Never mind." Fox said, a little too quickly. He grabbed his spoon and shoved it into his oatmeal. "Anyway, I remember when they tried to sell me as cheating on Krystal with some floozy in Corneria. Just ignore this whole crap with the media, kid. It'll blow over soon." Fox said.
There was wisdom in the veteran's words, so Joker put the paper aside and began eating his breakfast. All thoughts of the article faded away and were replaced with plans for the day and strategies for the battlefield. The world would turn, life would change and the hack author of the article would find something else to get irrationally angry over. He needed to focus on the climb through the Super Smash Brothers ladder.
(And maybe look into Fox's comment because it sounded suspiciously like a betting pool about him).
He went about his daily life, expecting no more complaints about his guns. Unfortunately, that didn't happen.
It wasn't noticeable at first. A few nasty comments floating here and there on social media, some of which were posted on his own profile.
CANCEL JOKER
JOKER IS A DANGEROUS MAN
go to hell all Joker stans!
Years of research have taught me that Joker's guns will contaminate youths and…
I'm just here for the ratio
Internet gossip was complete and utter tripe. Joker tossed them out of his mind and into the metaphorical garbage can. In hindsight, he should've seen it as symptoms of what was to come.
First came the whisperings in public and mothers pulling their kids away from him when he walked through the street. Saddening, but not entirely unexpected. He was not an upstanding citizen by any stretch of the imagination and his phantom thief gear could look damn intimidating in the right circumstances.
Next came a news report. He was sitting in the lounge room with a few other Smashers, relaxing after a day of busy fights, when the news suddenly cut to a suit ranting on about how guns are destroying the minds of youths, despite the laws present in most dimensions. The suit then went on to mention Joker as an example, to which many in the lounge room shrugged or rolled their eyes. The channel was quickly changed, yet a small part of Joker could not help but think. The Smashers knew better, but what of the general public?
The last straw occurred during the preparations for a sponsored event. It was a run-of-the-mill celebrity promotion that all Smashers were called to do at some point in their careers. However, the day before the event was about to begin, Joker was brought into a meeting with one of the liaisons.
"I'm very sorry Joker, but our client has declined to let you participate in the fairground event." The staff member said.
"Why?" Joker asked, hands folded on his lap.
"They said you would be not a good fit for the event. Your mannerisms and fashion sense conflicted too heavily with the fairground's aesthetic."
"Bullshit." Joker said. "Kids love me. I've seen how hyped everyone gets when I step onto the stage. Master Hand even added my likeness to a line of plush dolls for kids to hold in bed. What's the real reason?"
The staff member hesitated. Beads of sweat gathered around the sides of her cheeks. This was a middle-aged woman with stiff hair and jitters that spoke of too much caffeine. Why had she taken this job again? The pay wasn't good enough for dealing with beings that could break every bone in her body if they got cranky enough.
"There's been word going around that, regarding negative influence directed towards young children, you might be the most dangerous man in all of Super Smash Brothers." She said, trying to settle the raging buttlerflies in her stomach.
"Even when this organisation houses genocidal maniacs like Ridley and Ganondorf." Joker shot back, tone flat.
"No-one lets those two near children. However, the higher-ups think that your reputation for stealing goods and the cocky, defiant persona you present towards the world might influence young teenagers to go out and commit crimes." The staff member continued to explain.
"I haven't physically stolen anything since I came here. I wasn't that kind of thief in the first place! Also, shouldn't parents be responsible for teaching their children not to commit crimes?" Joker protested. "Is this about my guns? I've noticed that there's been a lot of hullabaloo about it online and in the news recently."
"That may be part of it, yes…" The staff member said.
"Seriously?" Joker said, raising an eyebrow.
"I—we of the Super Smash Brothers organisation don't mind it." The staff member said quickly. She slowly reached into her pocket for a remote with a big red button. "But it's not hard to see how other companies might not appreciate it."
"I see." Joker said. He remained in his seat, arms now crossed and stared down at the table, silent. The sunlight shifted in the room and glinted on his glasses. The staff member trembled on the other side.
"Well, there's not much we can do." Joker said, after some thought. "Thanks for talking to me. I'm free tomorrow, so if there's a match or any other work available, please contact me."
He left the room, ignoring the audible sigh of relief behind him. Still keeping a composed expression, he walked down the hallways of the mansion, nodding to a couple of his fellow Smashers, and stepped out into the back garden. He took a route through the flower fields, beneath the gnarled wooden arch and across the freshly mowed lawn. The area was home to all sorts of exotic flora and maintained by staff members and nature-loving Smashers alike.
Joker sat down in a bench near some budding Fire Flowers and took a deep breath.
Okay, he thought to himself, things were starting to get out of hand. But what could he do about it?
Continue to ignore the problem? No, it was already festering too much. He had seen what the untamed masses could do to a single person back in Tokyo. He would not become another victim.
Sue the press? Too many targets and he didn't have enough money. Tokyo yen did not translate well to the currency here, for whatever reason.
What about stepping into the public eye and defend himself on the Internet? Tempting at first, but then he winced and clapped his cheeks to regain his focus. If the media coverage of the whole Yoshi tax fraud debacle had taught him anything, debating on the Internet was a complete and utter waste of time. He wasn't good at PR anyway.
No, he needed outside help for this one and he knew just who to call.
That night, he made himself a fresh pot of coffee and booted up his laptop. He opened up a special chatting program devised by a very special orange-haired girl, sent out an invite and waited. A few seconds later, notifications appeared in the bottom left of the screen. Familiar, comforting voices floated through his headphones.
"Wassup, leader!" said a girl crouched on a swivel chair in a merchandise-stacked room.
"Good to see you, Ren." Said another girl, sitting neatly in front of her a desk with papers and books at her side.
Makoto Niijima and Futaba Sakura. The fifth and sixth members of the Phantom Thieves, better known to the general public as Queen and Oracle respectively. They were both women Joker trusted with his life.
"Makoto, Futaba, good to see you both. How is everyone doing?" Joker said. It was a little disappointing that the other members weren't here, but they had their own lives to lead.
"We're all doing rather well." Makoto said. "Tokyo is actually rather uneventful without you here, really."
"Yeah, everyone is busy studying or training." Futaba chimed in. "Man, it's so dull at times! It almost makes me wish I could go on another adventure with everyone. Hope you're doing better than us, leader."
"I'm doing alright." Joker said. "To tell the truth, things could be better. That's what I wanted to talk about today…"
"Go on, leader, clue us in." Futaba prompted. Joker nodded and explained the growing controversy surrounding him. By the end, Futaba was scowling and Makoto was frowning, a hand resting inquisitively beneath her chin.
"Geez, Ren, you should've told us about this way sooner!" Futaba scolded, hands on her hips.
"I was hoping it would blow over by itself." Joker said, "Should've known better…"
"You know we would've dropped everything to come and help you." Makoto said.
"That's partly why I didn't ask. Besides, I'm not sure how Master Hand the rest of the staff would reacted to you guys getting involved."
"Your situation reminds me when the Tokyo media painted us as remorseless criminals. It's awful." Makoto sighed. The Phantom Thieves were indeed criminals, but all of their actions had been conducted with the intention of helping others. "I'm sad to say it's not going to go away without some form of intervention."
"I'm not going to stop using my guns. I'm not letting these spineless, faceless masses take control of me." Joker said, voice firm. "No changing hearts either. This place doesn't have Mementos and we put that business behind us anyway."
"As it should be." Makoto agreed. "What you should do is take control of this situation. But how…"
"Want me to take care of it?" Futaba said, puffing her chest out with pride, "Hand me those article links I'll serve some punishment to those hacks!"
"That could work." Makoto acknowledged. "If the hypocrisies of the media were exposed, the current narrative against you would crumble. You could regain your reputation following that.
Knowing Futaba, she would get the job done within the next few hours. He could go to sleep, wake up in the morning and find a hundred apologies on his social media profile the next day. It was tempting, yet anticlimactic.
And anticlimactic did not suit the leader of the Phantom Thieves.
"Actually, let's hold off on that for a bit." Joker said.
"Excuse me?" Futaba exclaimed.
"To be honest, this problem isn't that big of a deal. Annoying, sure, but I'm perfectly capable of enduring the hate towards me until it eventually dies down."
"Wait, you're saying you don't need our help after all?" Futaba said, incredulous.
"Don't get me wrong, Futaba, your idea is solid. However…" Ren raised a finger to his lips and smiled. "You know girls, I am a celebrity right now. I'm paid to beat people up and look good while doing it."
"Oh dear…" Makoto half-groaned, though she couldn't keep the small grin on her pretty features.
"Which means I should do the same for these bad press, no?" Joker finished.
"What do you have in mind?" Futaba asked, feeling that wonderful familiar anticipation bloom in her chest.
Joker leaned forward and began to speak the thoughts deep in his mischievous heart. His smile grew and transformed into his classic, cocky smirk. The taste of spite and pleasure could almost be felt at the tip of his tongue.
Several days later…
It was another bright sunny day on Battlefield. Outside the miniature dimension, the stadium was packed hot. The crowds were cheering loud, anticipating another wonderful match between a pair of the legendary Smashers.
This time, it was the newcomer Joker up against the seasoned veteran Fox. Ever since his first exhibition match against Mario, Joker had shown himself as a fast-paced, cunning fighter who wasn't afraid to break convention when it suited him. He hadn't won every match, but he was rising through the ladder and could not be ignored as a threat. His fine dress sense and handsome features were nothing to scoff at either.
The two fighters made their entrance, Joker dropping from the sky and Fox swooping on in from his Airwing. They stared coolly at their opponents across the distance, both sizing up the situation.
Alright, Fox thought, Joker's going to want to control the neutral game from midrange to build up his gauge. He's gonna likely rush in for a few quick hits or fire with that gun of his. I'll counter with my shine and then use my movement to close the distance.
Joker reached into his coat and retrieved his trusted handgun. Nodding, Fox settled into a low stance. In his minds' eye, he was dashing across the platform, weaving between bullets, before rolling forward and landing a solid kick into Joker's midsection.
Then Joker pulled out a second gun.
What. Fox thought.
Joker threw the second gun. It hurtled through the air in a sharp arc before landing squarely on Fox's nose. Pain burst free and he saw stars for an instant. The next thing he knew, Joker had rushed towards him across Battlefield's platform, Arsene in full display. The crimson-clad Persona was also wielding dual pistols.
Fox found himself being thrown off stage by a hail of bullets. He was now in the air and glanced up to see Joker above him, ready for the punish. Joker and Arsene tossed their guns down at him. They carried enough momentum to smack him in the chest and send him plummeting towards the blast zone.
"And with some unprecedented moves, first blood goes to Joker!" The announcer in the stadium roared as the crowd gasped in shock. "My goodness, I did not expect him to use his guns like that. However, they are made of heavy metal and as we know from the last match with Ike, metal hurts a ton! What other tricks could this phantom thief have hiding up his sleeve?"
The only thing Fox could think upon respawning was a solid, resounding 'What the hell'. He dropped onto the top platform and gritted his teeth. No, he couldn't fall prey to nerves now/ Time to focus on the fight.
A hail of submachine gun bullets tore through the top platform. He dodged downwards, only for Arsene and Joker to leap at him, more firearms at the ready. Fox snarled and flung his fist forward.
The next few minutes flew past in a whirlwind of tangling with Joker, his guns and way too many bullets than a teenage boy should possess. In fact, everything about Joker could be summarized as gun. He forwent his knife for pistol-whipping, his Persona was now wielding guns…hell, even when recovering he fired a miniature grappling hook out of a gun.
And he was good. Damn good. A little shaky in parts, no doubt from having to adapt to a new fighting style, but the uniqueness combined with a not inconsiderable amount of skill allowed Joker to gain the edge over the befuddled Fox. The end result was 3-1 in Joker's favour, with him taking Fox's last stock at a staggering 200% of damage. The miniature dimension shrank and the two fighters appeared back in the stadium.
"Good game." Joker said, extending a hand, smiling tiredly. Fox hesitated before he shook it.
"Good game." Fox said, a little slowly. "That a new style you're experimenting?"
"Indeed. Did you know people are really upset about me using guns?" Joker replied.
"So I heard." Fox said. "You, uh, decided the best solution was to use even more gun?"
"Why, yes." Joker said and winked.
"I see…" Fox said, blinking. When Joker was like this, it was hard to know what was going in his head. "Well, good luck with that. I'll be ready next time."
The two fighters left the stadium and into the changing rooms. After he stripped off his phantom gear and slipped into a fresh set of clothes, Joker took out his cell phone and looked his name on social media. A flurry of posts from various backgrounds and avatars greeted him.
AVE NEX ALEA
Joker is officially more gun!
When you shoot up buildings / lmao bottom text
he's gone buttfuck insane
oh_my_god_dis_sweet_
Friendly reminder that all Joker stans support gun violence and the mass destruction of the innocents!
Why aren't you complaining when Mario punches with the force of a mini nuke oh they blocked me
Mmm look at those fine abs
Joker read more posts and smirked. Everything was going to plan.
Thus began Joker's endeavors to use as much bullet and gun in his fights as possible. Every match that followed—singles, doubles, squad strike and friendlies—was fought in a new style. He camped his opponents across the stage. Whenever they approached, he smacked them over the head with handguns and kicked them aside. Fighters unfortunate enough to leave the stage were sniped towards the edges by the ammunition of a M4 Assault rifle, swiftly followed by a drop-kick to the blast-zone.
("And Joker takes it again! What an amazing display of tactics and marksmanship!")
("The newcomer Joker has been making a big splash with his firearm-based style, despite the controversy surrounding him—")
("Will this be the start of a new trend? Don't touch that dial, we'll be right back!")
Of course, being skilled and smart fighters themselves, his fellow Smashers adapted. They fired back from the opposite end, threw down distractions, changed their attire to counter bullets. Fans grumbled about this shift towards projectile-based warfare from high octane melee combat, but the Smashers ignored it, as they tended to do. On the battlefield, the only thing that mattered was their victory.
"It's over, Joker!" Marth shouted during a match on Pokemon Stadium 2. He and Joker were down to the last stock, having both taken a decent amount of percentage. Both fighters were coated in wounds, sweat and filth. Yet their spirits beat hard as the finale drew near. "I have grown used to your firearm tricks. You will taste defeat at the hand of my blade."
In response, Joker smirked wide, reached into his coat and pulled out a rocket launcher. Arsene appeared by him, more rocket launchers in hand and with miniature ones strapped to his crimson arms. Marth had stared, wide-eyed and jaw open, and then he was sent flying towards the blast zone with searing heat spreading throughout his regal clothes. High up in the stadium, Snake shook his head and grumbled.
The rest of the Phantom Thieves got their hands on some footage. Chuckles and high-fives were shared all around, followed by a celebration in their leader's name. It was really an excuse to eat ice-cream together, not that there was anything wrong with that. A video clip was then forwarded to a certain airsoft dealer in Shibuya, who shook his head and muttered something about 'damn kids' while trying to contain his smile.
The other Smashers then forged new tactics, Joker returned the favour and the game of cat-and-mouse continued to cycle around and around.
The media, already aggravated at Joker, became even more enraged. Not a week passed by without an article or report slandering his name.
JOKER: Handsome thief or psychopath in plain sight?
Petition to ban Joker from the Super Smash Brothers (1000/10000 signatures received)
Don't let those handsome eyes deceive you, Joker is officially cancelled and this is why
It was all futile. Joker won and won. His rankings shot up from the center towards the top 16. It was as if he was converting the sheer anger directed at him into fuel for success.
A whole month later, Master Hand called Joker to his office. Located at the top of the mansion, it was an open-ended space geared towards efficiency rather than style. There were less decorations and more useful tools such as filing cabinets and computers. Behind an oak desk stacked with paperwork floated Master Hand, and behind him were crystal clear windows providing a good view of the nearby city.
"JOKER." The gigantic being boomed as the Smasher entered.
"How may I help you, Master Hand?" Joker said, closing the door behind him. "If it's about the mess in the dining room, Wario started that."
"I AM ALREADY AWARE OF THAT. WHAT I WISH TO DISCUSS IS REGARDING YOUR CURRENT STYLE OF FIGHTING."
"Ah, is this a notice to switch back to my original style?" Joker said.
"NO. ALL METHODS ARE ALLOWED, SO LONG AS THEY ARE NOT AGAINST TOURNAMENT REGULATION. HOWEVER, WE INITIALLY MARKETED YOU AS A SAUVE PHANTOM THIEF WITH AN ALMOST INFINITE BAG OF TRICKS." Master Hand explained. "I AM HERE TO REMIND YOU THAT IF YOU WISH TO CONTINUE DOWN THIS PATH OF BEING A HANDSOME MAN FIRING LOTS OF GUNS, THEN WE WILL HAVE TO MARKET YOU AS A HANDSOME MAN FIRING LOTS OF GUNS."
"That would put me at odds with Snake." Joker noted.
"IT IS LIKELY."
"And the overlap might cause me to lose followers and publicity…" Joker mused.
"INDEED."
Joker thought a moment and nodded. "Fair enough. I'll go back to my original style." He decided.
If Master Hand was surprised, he did not show it. "DO NOT FEEL PRESSURED THAT YOU HAVE TO." He said.
"It's fine. I wasn't completely serious about this whole change, either. I just wanted to have some laughs at the expenses who tried smearing me as a dangerous lunatic." He grinned. "Not against the rules, right?"
It was not.
"Besides, everyone else is getting used to the guns. Switching back to my old style is sure to shake things up again." Joker said.
"ARE YOU SURE ABOUT THIS?"
"I am."
"THEN IT IS DECIDED. VERY WELL, YOU ARE NOW FREE TO GO."
"Thank you, Master Hand."
As Joker left, Master Hand made a mental note to cancel the promotion with the weapons dealers later on. It was a shame that Joker was shifting back to his old style, for the sudden innovation had produced some interesting tactics in the metagame, even in the matches without Joker. While the general public did not like this sudden change, Master Hand predicted the matches would gain something of a cult following as the Ultimate era progressed.
The shake-up Joker had brought was more points towards him in Master Hands view and he was intrigued to see how the rest of the Smashers would react to his old style. He had seen how Joker watched the other Smashers, noticed his efforts during training. The boy had no doubt learned more than just marksmanship during this brief stint.
The next day…
Alright, Fox thought to himself as he and Joker faced off on Final Destination. I've brought my bulletproof vest, fully charged up my shine and practised evasion tactics with Falco and Snake. I've got most of what I need to deal with all those bullets. No way is Joker getting away this time!
Joker ran forward and unleashed a flurry of slashes at Fox's chest. A leap, a blast of fire from Arsene and Fox soared high into the sky.
You gotta be kidding me. Fox groaned as the blast zone approached.
At the same time, Futaba launched her investigation. One secret (and magical) connection to the interdimensional Internet, along with typing skills so fast they nearly burned her fingers from the friction, and she had located the perpetrators smearing her beloved leader. With a devilish smirk that could send shivers down the judges of hell, she booted up a special (and illegal) script.
Somewhere on the Internet, a virtual dam cracked and a torrent of incriminating documents and messages burst out. That day, the interdimensional media was consumed in journalistic hellfire. Social structures crumbled, cash flow halted and the public laughed until their sides screamed from the pain.
And for the grand finale, well…Toad Town was not ready for a portal appearing in the sky and an interdimensional SWAT team leaping out.
The culprit—the one who had written the first article—turned out to be some snooty journalist intern. Upon being confronted with several burly men with body gear and hot Super Scopes, she immediately collapsed like a paper tiger and begged for forgiveness loudly and messily.
Joker forgave her (not forgetting to scold Futaba for traumatizing the poor woman) and his life as a Smasher went on.
I dunno if this matched up to the humor standards set in Steal Your Way In but I got tired of writing this so there you go. Regardless I hope you enjoyed reading this. Please leave feedback and/or constructive criticism if possible.
Also, I have now been infected with the Granblue virus so that's all you're going to be seeing from me for a while.