Prologue
The year was 1999. The Clinton Administration was recovering from a scandal. Dot-coms were booming. Personal computers were kind of bulky and took forever to boot up. Whenever you wanted to surf the Internet, you had to listen to weird sounds waiting for the dial-up connection to work its magic. Cell phones were almost the size of regular phones and needed an antenna to catch a signal. There were no apps, iPhones, iPads or social networking sites. And a brand-new affair was rocking Nintendo's world—Super Smash Brothers.
Consider, if you will, one of the 12 participants in this tournament, studying himself in the mirror. His white shirt and hat really brought out his brown hair and suntanned skin, underscored by the dark green overalls completing the outfit. He made his face go through a series of expressions, from a gentle, friendly smile, to a neutral face, to a solemn, determined expression, to a fierce, battle-ready look and finally to a look of complete and utter confidence. He allowed his shoulders to roll back and his chin to lift slightly, defiance spiraling around him. They said he was the worst fighter. They called him "the last-place loser". They didn't think he'd have a chance. But they'd think differently after today. Because today, he'd prove them all wrong.
After staring down his reflection, Luigi nodded. He liked the man looking back at him.
"Sono pronto."
Translation: I'm ready.