Rain was pouring down, lightning thundering in the distance. Lucas gazed out his window, longing for another brawl. After he had acquired a taste for smashing, it was almost impossible to quench. Every night, he would dream of sweet memories of fighting on Final Destination, engaging in melee combat with little boy Zelda and manly cyborg Metroid. Would he get invited back for the next tournament? He had barely made the cut last time; a last minute, four dollar addition to the roster. Only time could tell.
A knock on the door sounded throughout the house, snapping Lucas out of his gloomy thoughts. Was it a salesman? Maybe a milkman? No. It couldn't be. A sign marked 'no soliciting' had been placed on the front door. Well, then, who could it be? Lucas got up to answer the mysterious knocker.
He opened the door to find a boy clad with a yellow-blue striped shirt and a fashionable hat, soaked from the rain.
"Ness! What are you doing here, comrade?" Lucas spoke in a Russian tongue.
"Howdy, friend! I was just wandering 'round yonder and figured I'd stop by to see how you were doing," answered Ness in his best cowboy impression.
As you can no doubt ascertain, Ness and Lucas had a strange ritual where they would greet each other using silly accents. This tradition began long ago when Lucas and Ness had a bitter quarrel of which I dare not speak and resorted to passive-aggressive remarks in foreign accents. Now, however, the accented greetings were all in good-humor, though possibly strange to anyone who happened to overhear.
"Haha, hilarious! Come inside, you'll get wet!" said Lucas.
"You can't tell me what to do," Ness said coldly. Ness stabbed Lucas 32 times.
"Oh my god," said Lucas. His lifeless body fell to ground, dead. He was no longer alive.
The realization of what he had done dawned upon Ness slowly. He stared at Lucas, vainly hoping he would get up, that somehow his actions were reversible. Why'd he do it? It all seemed like some sort of sick joke, twisted comic relief interrupting the monotony of life.
In front of Ness, a figure appeared, angelic and bright. No. Not him. Why was this happening?
"Sakurai-san-" Ness gasped.
"Hey, Ness, how's it going buddy- oh my god." Sakurai noticed Lucas's bleeding, dead corpse on the ground, devoid of life. He facepalmed and shook his head, disappointed. "How'd this happen?"
"I- I don't know. Oh god. Please. Sakurai, you can reverse this right? I don't want this burden on me. I don't want to have killed a boy!"
"Well, it's a little bit too late for that, Ness. I mean, gee wiz, you stabbed him 32 times. It's a shame, too. I was just about to tell the little guy he was getting into Smash 5."
"Smash 5… oh god, what have I done? That's all he ever wanted, and I took that away from him."
"You took everything away from him." Sakurai sternly reminded.
"Yes…. I know." Ness glanced away. "Am- am I getting into Smash 5, if I may ask?"
"Well, yeah, you were... before you murdered a guy. I'm sorry, but you'll have to be cut."
"NO! How dare ye speak to me in such a manner?!" yelled Ness.
"How dare YOU speak to ME in such a manner? I am Sakuri, your creator, your god!"
Ness paused for a moment. "I'm sorry."
"An outburst combined with murder, Ness? How you have fallen. You no longer deserve the name of the boy you once were."
"What are you saying, Sakurai-san?"
"I hereby strip you of your name."
"What? You can't do that, take away my identity!"
"Oh, but I can, and I am. Henceforth, you will no longer be known as Ness-san, but only San. Sans for a slightly longer version, if you like."
"Nooooo!" screamed the newly named Sans.
"Farewell. I wish you luck with your new life." Sakurai said.
Sans couldn't believe it. His whole identity, gone. He started crying, and the tears evaporated his skin. Now, he was a skeleton. To hide from his embarrassment, he jumped into a mountain, and to this day, he is still sad. The end.