A very random fic, dedicated to my lovely ThePervinErmin, who has already written several stories for me. I had to return the favor!

Random fic is random. See if you can guess what food is being made in this fic.

Enjoy!

~sometime early in the morning~

If one stood near enough to a window near the front corner of the east side of the Smash mansion, you could hear silence, for a few minutes.

Soon enough, however, the silence would be interrupted by a yelp, a crash, and a quiet tenor voice exclaiming, "Shi-!"

~at the breakfast table twenty minutes later~

Link dug into his chili, ignoring the cornbread by his bowl entirely, plus the complaints of other brawlers who were convinced that he was eating it wrong. One of these being Ike.

"Is that how they eat chili in the Kokiri Forest?" he questioned, mildly alarmed at the speed with which the Hylian downed his breakfast.

"Mmo, vhe hadb mnom chili -gulp- back there." Wiping his mouth, he gave Ike a puzzled look. "Why d'ya ask?"

Ike ignored a snickering Roy, and shrugged. "Never mind," he said vaguely. His attention turned to a slightly sour-faced Marth with tousled hair (an extremely unusual occurrence) approaching the breakfast table. "I'm afraid to ask," he said warily when the prince plunked himself and his own food down beside the mercenary.

"Which obviously means you are asking anyway," put in Roy.

Marth gave them the grumpy cat face (mostly just Roy though) and grumbled from behind a stiff jaw, "Overslept, badhairday, cutmyselfshaving. Happynow?" He stared at them while they puzzled out his stiff-jawed speech.

Roy's and Ike's questions overlapped.

"You have bad hairdays?"

"You shave?"

Marth glared at them. "Yes, and duh." An awkward silence ensued. "I'm a man, you idiot," he added, albeit in a less convincing tone.

To his credit, at least Ike looked a bit embarrassed. "Erm, right, just I don't see a cut," he pointed out, trying to steer the topic in a safer direction.

Marth gaped. "Of course not, you dunderhead. Did you really think I could be so careless with my face?"

That took a moment to sink in.

Ike and Snake (who had been eavesdropping, as was his habit, until now) laughed mirthfully.

"What?" questioned the royal, unruffled.

"You shave under your arms." stated Roy blankly.

"Is there something wrong with that?"

Snake chuckled. "Look, kid. No man who is a man at all shaves even his face," he said impressively. Noticing Ike's sudden glare, he became very interested in his coffee, mumbling something that sounded like "um, um, yes, I do see your point" into the dark inside of his mug.

"Speaking of something wrong," said the redheaded swordsman, tactfully changing the subject, "isn't it odd that Peach is still in the kitchen after breakfast is ready and being eaten?"

Marth shrugged with a hmm noise into his food.

"Maybe it has something to do with the vegetables she made me boil for her yesterday," suggested Link. "I don't see them anywhere in the breakfast stuffs. Some carrots, potatoes, eggs, and chicken."

"Really?" Marth looked up. "When I passed by, she was chopping an apple into tiny cubes, and there was mayonnaise by her. Not to mention a can of peas," he added, with some amusement at their expressions.

"And she had me bring her some pickles just now," piped up a passing Pit.

"...pickles?" The swordsmen stared at each other.

~in the kitchen, five minutes later~

"Aaahhhh, done at last!" Peach sighed happily, licking her fingers. "Now, to surprise my little brawling family with my amaaaaazing cooking skills," she giggled.

Yes, yes, this is a real recipe. A very tasty one you would love if you tried, I swear to goddess!

Later I'll add another chapter with the recipe itself, if anyone would like to try it. It's a salad called Olivie (pronounced O-leev-yeh), which originated from France, but somehow got to the Russians, who have made it a sort of tradition. Thus, it came to my family, where my mother actually learned a slightly different version than the most commonly used one, and anyone who tries it admits that it is THE BEST. I recently learned the recipe, myself, and am eager to teach the readers who support me to make a great salad!

I must say, I really understand Marth in this fic. Cutting yourself shaving under your arm is terrible! Plus, when I'm sleepy, oftentimes my jaw clamps shut tight and I have to talk through my teeth at people, which sounds really silly.

And really, does anyone here think Marth doesn't shave there? lol I honestly just can't imagine him with hairy pits. I'm sorry, I just can't!

Lastly, anyone who doesn't know the grumpy cat face is a very sad person.

Thanks for reading!

~Fye