The Trophy Room was off-limits to the children. No exceptions.

Of course, that just made the satisfaction of sneaking in there successfully all the sweeter.

They trickled in like burglars through the night, one after the other. At first they'd been surprised by how easy it was to coax the door open - then again, security was always a little lax at this place, so it wasn't that much of a shock to the system. Kirby took the lead like the mother to a family of ducklings; behind him waddled Pikachu, who confidently swayed from side-to-side on his two hind legs, unafraid of getting caught; then came Lucas, who nervously chewed upon his nails, disgusted by the aspect of breaking a rule, and Ness, who seemed more or less indifferent to the whole ordeal. Toon Link scuttled eagerly behind, only skittering just fast enough to seem attached to the group due to the careful goading from Pit's palm. The angel took up the end of the line of underage Brawlers with undisputed leadership, his innocent blue eyes marked by mischief as he searched for adults that would ruin their game. He gave Toon Link one last careful shove into the room before stepping in himself, but he didn't give the contents of the storage room of mysteries his attention quite yet; instead he turned and stuck his head out of the doorway, casting one last glance down the right and left wings of the corridor for intruders. Seeing nothing, he smirked silently and carefully eased the door shut, dissipating into the dimly-lit display with the rest of his group.

"Wow," Lucas whispered, his sneakers making deafening tapping sounds against the dark tile. There were rows and rows of trophies, each shelf dedicated to a specific genre of figurines, and to a small boy like him, it was easy to run under the assumption that the shelves extended into forever. The little blond was almost overwhelmed by the sheer amount of potential toys - he was thusly at a loss as to what he should select first, and he looked towards Ness for guidance. Ness had already chosen his first destination; he had stumbled upon the relatively small collection of Kid Icarus statuettes and was now carefully examining Pit's trophy. Lucas rushed over to join him and, in a surge of excitement, pointed an accusatory finger at the figurine the baseball-capped boy cradled in his pudgy hands. "Pit! Look!" Lucas cried, jumping up and down where he stood. "It's you, Pit! It's you!"

"I know," the winged boy stated, picking his way over to the collection gathered under his name. Afraid of hurting the younger boy's feelings, he quickly added, "It's pretty cool, right?"

But Lucas and Ness had already left to join Toon Link in examining the countless Pokemon statues, deciding that certain ones were most definitely their favorites before quickly placing them back into their former spots in favor for another one. Amused, Pit offered a grin to Kirby and Pikachu, who were silently observing like guardians from afar. In truth, Pit had always been nervous around the two - animalistic as they were, they were certified Smash veterans, and as such they were not to be trifled with. He quickly learned that their company left little to be desired, however; with their limited skills in communication, they could hardly uphold any sort of conversation, much less make fun of him for being a rookie. He had soon become comfortable enough around them to offer them his protection and support as both a friend and a guardian.

Pit carefully selected the trophy of his Goddess from the row, cradling it like something liable to break at the slightest roughness. Satisfied, he took a seat between Pikachu and Kirby, wrapping his wings around them to keep them both warm against the occasional chilly draft that ran through the room. The two seemed to appreciate it enough - Pikachu sat back against the downy feathers without hesitation, but Kirby had to roll around a bit before he found a spot comfortable enough to call his own. All was peaceful and quiet, save the excited murmurs of the younger children. Of course, with a group like this, things never stayed peaceful for long.

"PK Thunder!" Ness's voice rang out suddenly. Before Pit and the other chaperones could leap to their feet, Lucas was soaring through the air, his tiny arms outstretched and reaching for a particular trophy. Of course, their flawed plan didn't exactly work; the duo apparently overshot the distance between Lucas and their prize, because the big-headed boy crashed right into the shelf, causing it to sway dangerously and threaten to drop. Pit and Pikachu wasted no time in bolting over to the shelf to try and balance it out, but trophies rained down onto the heads of both children and odd animals alike, unsympathetic towards their plight. By the time the furniture had been steadied, every last trophy was on the floor, scattered about like someone had tried to bowl with them as pins.

"Oh, no," Lucas whimpered, holding his forehead where he'd bashed it against a more prominent shelf. Ness and Toon Link surveyed the damage, their young faces frozen in masks of pure horror. What had they done? There was no way they could fix this without the help of an adult! Pit put a hand to his own forehead in empathy (or perhaps he felt a migraine coming on), giving Pikachu a distraught, helpless look. The yellow rodent only shrugged, clueless; as an animal, he held no responsibility for the crimes his associates committed, and he was usually acquitted of all accusations thrown his way.

The angel and his comrades were about to give up hope when a familiar sucking sound reached their ears. Kirby was standing between Ness and Toon Link, sucking up the trophies; and he was spitting them back out into their allotted spots as if such actions were second nature to him.

"Alright, Kirby!" Ness cried excitedly, performing a happy little dance. Toon Link examined him carefully for a moment, then giggled and joined in on the victory jig, clapping to urge Kirby on. Pit and Pikachu found it difficult to resist the energy the other two were putting into their cheer; they, too, began to clap and stomp their feet to the beat of the pink blob's trophy spitting. Even Lucas began to get over his mistake, laughing as he kept the tempo alongside his friends. Eventually the floor was cleared of trophies; all but one.

"You missed a spot," Ness pointed out. Toon Link's small finger pointed at the lone trophy that sat just beside Lucas's sneakers, his eyebrows raised in evident surprise. Curious, the yellow rodent by Pit's side picked his way over to it, giving it a few cautious sniffs before picking it up in his tiny paw and holding it up for all to see.

There, before all of their young eyes, was the Holy Grail of trophies.

Mischievous grins spread over every face in the lot. This was going to be fun.

-

"Pit?"

"Ness?"

"Lucas?"

Snake clenched his fists around the newspaper he held over his lap, feeling his eyelid spasm with a stress-induced tic. Those princesses had been calling for the group of juvenile brawlers for what seemed like a god-forsaken eternity. Pit's-missing this, where-are-Ness-and-Lucas that, has-anyone-seen-Toon-Link the other thing - it was driving him crazy! And to top it all off, now that fat penguin and the head with wings were panicking over Kirby being MIA; and he was certain that the Pokemon Trainer, the other pink puffy thing, and the blue dog with the fire stuff coming out of his hands were now starting to call out for the yellow rat.

"Pikachu?"

"Kirby?"

"Toon Link?"

Snake turned to face Peach and Zelda as they approached him from behind, heaving a mental sigh. What in the world did they want from him? Couldn't they see he was busy?

"Hi, Snakey," Peach said, sounding a bit dismayed.

"Snakey," Snake parroted in his typical monotone, raising a brow in silent disbelief. The pink-clad woman didn't seem to notice.

"You haven't seen the kids anywhere, have you?" She asked, wringing her gloved hands. "Oh, Snakey, we can't find them anywhere..."

Gimme a break, Snake thought bitterly. He returned to his newspaper without giving them an answer.

"You'll help us find them, won't you?" Zelda asked, putting a hand on his shoulder. He cringed. They just didn't take a hint, did they?

"Oh, please, Snakey?" Peach added, placing her hand on his other shoulder. "We promise to leave you alone if you just look a teenise little bit."

Normally Snake wasn't one to bend under pressure, but the promise of being left alone by these two particular thorns in his side was an opportunity he couldn't pass up. Sighing in defeat, he folded up the newspaper and placed it beside his seat. "Fine," he grunted, far from gratified by the delighted looks that graced the princesses' royal faces. "No promises, though. I'm not your babysitter." With those oh-so-very kind words, he stalked off.

Those kids were going to get it good when he found them.

-

Well, that was it - he had just searched the entire Brawl stadium top to bottom. There were no signs of the child Brawlers anywhere, and he was starting to get a feeling of concern in the pit of his stomach - but he'd never admit that to anyone, of course, not even himself. The only room he had yet to check was the Trophy Collection, but even he knew the kids weren't permitted to go in there.

That was all the more reason to check.

He leaned his weight against the door, surprised by how easily it swung open - he stumbled for a few paces, and his cover was lost. Cover from whom? Well, cover from the group of juveniles and their two feral pals, that's whom. They were sitting in a circle around something and giggling uncontrollably - even the rat and the pink thing were laughing in their weird, slightly creepy sort of way... Somehow they had yet to notice him, so he risked taking another few steps towards the group, curiosity piqued. It was from his new vantage point that he could clearly see the object of their attention.

It was the trophy of Solid Snake, clad in a dress made from a little bit of white cloth, presumably torn from the angel kid's toga.

Pure rage.

"What the Hell are you kids doing in here?" The unmistakable, gruff snarl of Solid Snake was so loud compared to the soft, childish giggles that it echoed off the walls several times. The children froze, still as statues, and slowly turned their faces towards him.

It was one of the most satisfying sights he'd ever seen. He'd never succeeded in terrifying anyone quite that badly before, even if they were just kids. Unfortunately, it was short-lived, because the ringleader seemed to get his wits about him before too long.

"Run!" The angel kid demanded. They were off like rockets - specifically the rat, that damn thing was running so fast his eyes could barely register its motion - and the last one out of the room was Pit. Snake didn't hesitate to grab him by his wings, which warranted a mighty shriek that would forever seal any doubts Snake had about a male adolescent's ability to scream like a little girl. For a second he caught himself wondering angel wings tasted anything like chicken wings, but the fantasy of tearing that boy limb from limb was another one of those deliciously sweet but brief moments. He'd let his guard down, and the little brat had elbowed him in the stomach and escaped before he had the chance to even threaten him.

"Damn," the espionage master hissed under his breath. With a thoroughly bruised ego, he turned and picked up his trophy, scowling a mighty scowl that would linger on his face until several days later. "Stupid kids..."

What part of off-limits didn't they understand?