Author's note: Yes…it finally arrived…the fourth Marx one-shot! I've just stumbled upon some writer's block, so this seemed like good medicine. One-shots are so easy to write!
I actually got this idea while reading a rant from some person. They were saying they don't like Marx (Has heart attack, dies, comes back to life again)!
Who wouldn't like Marx? Well, everyone is entitled to their beliefs. Imagine not loving Marx. That person must be heartless. Though I do agree they should've built up his personality in the game. We fans don't have much to go by…Please R&R!
The Perfect Nobody
The jester's small mouth contorted into a sneer as he studied the buildings around him. They weren't very big and were so…cute. The village itself looked like one of those places where everybody knew everybody. In fact, he almost expected the residents to burst into song. Despite the cheesiness, this town was home to two very important things. One, his new job and two, Kirby. This Kirby, a pink puffball thingamabob, he was a great hero throughout Pop Star. The jester heard of this 'hero' and just had to check it out for himself.
"Who are you? We've never seen you here before," a girl's voice came from behind the little clown. He gasped in surprise but didn't turn around. Instead he thought about how this proved his point. Everybody knew everybody.
"Hey, my sister asked you a question! Answer her or else!" this one was owned by a boy. A sinister (or mischievous) idea popped into the jester's brain.
He spun around and grinned at the two villagers. They really did look like brother and sister. "Blunka shoova jooki noopea shiffieee noffuu? Akaa la monysho ka!"
They stared at him, then in unison said, "WHAT?"
The girl, who looked older, shook her head and sighed. "He must be foreign. Let me see if I can translate…" she studied him closely and he bared his fangs in case she got too close.
"Say something!" the brother yelled. His sister hushed him.
"Shut up! I think he's about to talk." her eyes narrowed as she continued to stare at the jester. He stuck out his tongue and giggled.
"Blisha bloshie floom flom pikikiki!"
The girl smiled. "I've got it!" she paused, as if concentrating before yelling, "Oggli goo muh forna FKIUNHHH!"
The clown's cheeks turned a bright pink from holding in laughter. He finally let it out in a great cackle. "You actually fell for that! You imbeciles!" he gasped for breath before continuing to laugh hysterically.
"Is it really that funny?" the girl was glaring at him, "Well, we know you speak our language at least."
"So, who is he?" the boy asked, "if you wanna know our names first, I'm Bun and this is my sister Fumu."
"Marx." the clown suddenly looked serious, "My name is Marx. I am sixteen years old and male. I enjoy sleeping in on the weekend, coffee, cookies and anything that makes fun of others. I am an Aquarius, born in early February. I do not wish to have children until I am at least thirty. My IQ is 147 and I like purple. It also just so happens to be the colour of my skin. I have no friends or a home. My enemies call me the perfect nobody. That is all."
There was an awkward silence. "What. The. Hell." Fumu said finally, "What kind of crazy intro was that? Are you psychotic or something?"
"No," Marx frowned, "That isn't very nice. Why would you say something so cruel? You must be a very mean person. I don't wanna be friends with you." His eyes began to water.
"Don't cry!" Fumu yelled, "Is your IQ really 147?"
He grinned. "Oh yeah, I don't like saying it though. Does it show? Do you think I'm smart?"
"Not really," Bun laughed, "You're acting like a little kid!"
Marx ignored him and kept going. "Okay, can we be friends now? You know all that about me so…what are your IQs? You two must be painfully dumb to fall for that trick I pulled on you earlier!"
"No way! That was only because you had the upper hand!" Fumu was angry which made Marx giggle, "I'm actually one of the smartest girls in the village!"
He looked around and smiled. "That's not saying much. You didn't answer my first question, anyway. What's your IQ, smart girl?"
"Fumu is my name, and 129. Don't tease me because yours is higher!"
Marx sighed. "Why would I tease you? I don't want to make fun of people and hurt them. IQ isn't how smart you are anyway, it's how much learning capacity you have. I'm actually kind of stupid, just to prove that."
"Why are we even talking to you again?" Bun wondered out loud, "You're weird, no offence."
"None taken. I wasn't going to talk to people today anyway. It'd be nice if you could show me around town tomorrow, though." He beamed as they waved goodbye and left.
Marx went straight to the castle after that and applied for the job of court jester. He met the king and was hired as soon as possible. That night he slept soundly in a soft bed in one of the palace's many rooms. It was a very comforting slumber. He didn't need to worry about anything. He was starting a new life with new friends.
Fumu and Bun never came. Marx waited for hours and even went looking, but they didn't show. It broke his innocent little heart. Maybe it wasn't his family situation, his past or his grades or whatever. Maybe his personality just turned people off of him.
"I'm the perfect nobody, I'm the perfect nobody, I'm the perfect nobody," Marx repeated all the way home. It was almost as if he thought this chant would bring Fumu and Bun to him. It wouldn't, of course. So he cried and began to hum, "Hmm, hm hm hm hm hm hmmm…"
Author's note: That was short. This is the Marx one-shot timeline—This, New Year's Eve, The Last Copy, Last Feeling and, if ya want, Dissimulation. The song Marx hums (He'll hum a lot in my stories, so beware) is Flowers of the Field by Sky Sailing. It's sad and I thought it fit the ending. So yeah. Review if ya choose. Until then, nippion ulla ellisesdd!
For any confusion, Marx is sixteen in this but seventeen in Dissimulation. It just makes more sense for him to age, right? I know you aren't dumb, I'm just saying.