Smash brothers is the property of Nintendo...I AM JOR-EL! MASTER OF SCHEDULING!
Author note: This is somewhat of a spin-off from the lawsuit adventures.
Within a undocumented lab, a genetically engineered pokemon and a F-Zero racer were waiting for the impending darkness.
Mewtwo was observing the landscape through the window, hands crossed behind his back. The sight of darkness falling across the landscape was invigorating to the pokemon, for the illusion of bestowed invisibility was undeniably intoxicating.
He turned towards the present company.
"Captain Falcon," he called through his telepathy, "are you pondering what I'm pondering?"
Falcon prioritized his beer over responding to the pokemon. When the bottle's contents were nearly empty, he inserted his finger to capture the last drops of alcohol.
Mewtwo frowned and sent a stronger mental burst. "Falcon! Answer my question!"
Falcon stopped and slammed the bottle on a table. He glared at the Pokemon. "You're the F!)#in psychic not me! Anyway, ain't your tests suppose t'say you have a super high IQ, so why did ya ask me?"
Falcon's damaged logic facilities processed his previous words and came to a revelation. He gawked at the pokemon. "You cheated on that test!" He said, nearly shrieking.
He stared at the pokemon with indignation and pointed a finger of accusation. "I'm on to you cheater!"
Falcon slammed the bottle against the table again, smashing it to bits and cutting up his hand.
"See what you made me do," he muttered while trying to stem the flow of blood. "This is the work of your psychic powers!"
He started running around the lab. "Where the hell is that First Aid kit?" He yelled hysterically. "I'm dying!"
The pokemon gave an inward sigh. He regretted ever bargaining with the Nintendo tyrant. Nevertheless, if there were only one person capable of procuring the entire DVD collection of Full Metal Alchemist, free of charge, it would be him.
He exerted his powers over Falcon and hoisted him into the air, and held him upside down. He shook him a little, which caused the racer to vomit.
Mewtwo winched at the grotesque display. "At least sobriety is no longer beyond him," he mused wirily
He, oh so carefully, slammed him several times against the surface of one of the many stainless steel tables that occupied the lab.
Before Falcon was to slip into the sweet embrace of darkness- unconsciousness to the clueless- Mewtwo desisted in his thrashing and propped him against a cabinet.
He tented his paws and looked sternly at the staggering racer. "Now," he communicated calmly, "are you feeling less infuriated or shall I administer another 'soothing' anger alleviating massage?"
Falcon gave the pokemon a thumb up. "S'ok I'm cool, man!" He slurred out.
Mewtwo's eyes glimmered satisfaction. "Excellent, are the details of the mission still residing in your alcohol drenched grey matter."
Falcon looked at him in confusion. "What now?"
Mewtwo was glad he didn't have teeth, for he would have grinded them into fine powder to vent his stress.
He berated the formerly intoxicated racer. "You brainless Neanderthal," hissed the irate pokemon, "how fortunate for you, and unfortunate for me, that breathing for your species is an involuntary action. I have no doubt you would have suffocated long ago from the lack of knowing how!"
Falcon was still wondering if Mewtwo was addressing him, or to the floating sentient slab of cheese, who was currently doing a wonderful rendition of Shakespeare's Hamlet.
Falcon's hesitation told Mewtwo what he needed to know. He decided to imprint the knowledge directly into Falcons mind. He created mental barriers to ward off the infectious stupidity and began transmitting the previous day's event.
Mewtwo was drifting around the verdant green laws of Nintendo head quarters in a depressed daze. The licensing of Full Metal Alchemist barred the free distribution of the anime by fan subbing communities.
In a rare lapse of judgment, he concluded that by destroying the corporations that licensed Full Metal Alchemist, as well as the parties responsible, the fan subbing would continue. If that failed, well. At least they'll be more hesitant to license anything, those sonuva bitches.
He closed his eyes, and started focusing his psychic energy. The blades of grass beneath him flattened from the sudden force. Immediately, he became enveloped with a blazing aura of prodigious power. So great was this sudden eruption of power, the foundation of the headquarters quaked violently.
He opened his eyes, spilling forth-superfluous energy. Any brave or foolhardy human that looked upon them would swear on their grave that a maelstrom had formed within the iris of the Pokemon.
"The humans, and their greed, shall die tonight!" He proclaimed, followed by a maniacal cackle.
A bucket of icy water was dumped upon his head. The sudden build up in psychic energy diminished at the lost of concentration. He clasps his arms around himself.
A shivering all-powerful pokemon was a humiliating sight, and Mewtwo knew that.
He spun around quickly to face his aggressor. "Who dares administer a prank upon my person?"
His eyes widen, for in front of him was the Nintendo powerhouse, Mr. Tiyamato!
The tyrant of Nintendo gave a short salute. "Sorry," he said sincerely, "but property damage is not good for business."
Mewtwo stood on guard. Tiyamato was not one to trifle with, not even for him. This human's mind was as unreadable as a block of carbon. He bowed his head slightly.
"I apologize for my behavior."
Tiyamato waved it off. "Do not be concern. I completely understand you."
He tapped his own chest. "Why, if I had my ability to emotionally traumatize the characters of Nintendo removed, I go mad with rage."
Mr. Tiyamato started laughing at his own perceived defect. Soon, he's ends up laughing manically while rolling on the ground. Mewtwo never wanted to flee in fear, and awkwardness, from a human until now.
Tiyamato clasped both hands on Mewtwo's shoulders and hauled himself up, face to face with him. All traces of laughter were gone. The face said serious business was about to commence.
"I have a business proposition for you." He said in a somber voice.
Mewtwo bit back the usually sarcastic comment reserved for humans. Instead, he nodded and replied in kind, "what can I do for you?"
Mr. Tiyamato paced back and forth in front of the Pokemon. "As you know, Captain Falcons fell from his plateau of adequacy to being king of the compost heap."
Mr. Tiyamato nodded quickly. "Yes, I know. It's not much of a change, but-"
"You want me to devise a plan to restore his mediocrity, and therefore making him somewhat profitable once more," interjected the pokemon. "And in utilizing me, you can insulate yourself should I fail."
Tiyamato clapped his hands in child-like delight. "Why you're absolutely correct, so will you help me?"
Mewtwo tried conceiving options to escape from Tiyamato. However, in considering Tiyamato's capabilities, a unified field theory based on dice throws was more plausible.
He decided to be straightforward. "I'm sorry Mr. Tiyamato," Mewtwo said in a regretting tone, "but I don't have the time or the patience to-"
Mr. Tiyamato grinned devilishly and threw down his trump card. "I'll secure you the DVD releases of Full Metal Alchemist."
"-Wait any longer. I shall attempt to carry out your wish."
Mr. Tiyamato smiled warmly at the pokemon. "Thank you, Mewtwo. I must go now. I'm going to tie Kirby to a treadmill while hanging a sirloin steak in front of him. He needs the exercise."
He snapped his fingers and in a flash of light, and thunder, disappeared.