Note: ENJOY MY DUMB SHIT. MAYBE.

The soft cloak of pure snow that clung to every available surface made the Feroxi woodlands quiet and peaceful. The lone sentry on border patrol was grateful for this peace, what with the horrors of the not-so-recently-canceled apocalypse still fresh in his mind. It was nice to experience such a calm and beautiful environment, one untouched by any sort of violence or even movement of the slightest kind. Well, except for the sentry's own movements, but he figured as long as he didn't look to his feet the forest would appear as still and boring as ever.

Boredom had become this particular sentry's favorite word, pastime, and ideal, and he even considered it to be his ultimate state of mind. When he was bored, he was one with the world and not being subjected to terrifying acts of violence that could very well make him not with the world. As such, he had signed up for sentry duty every evening and had subsequently become the most popular soldier stationed at the border, beating out even the I-fought-right-alongside-the-Shepherds-and-Chrom-no-really-I-did-I-swear-on-the-Khan's-big-brown-Feroxi-arse guy. In fact, the sentry felt himself sinking further into his blissful boredom with every step. The familiar slow trudge of his feet and the buzzing drone within his mind grew more pronounced, and he felt the yawn that would bring him fully into peace building ever stronger behind his lips.

The drone grew louder and louder and the urge to yawn stronger and stronger until finally the sentry realized with a gut-wrenching drop that the buzzing wasn't within his mind and was in fact coming directly towards him.

A flash of blue accompanied by a sound the sentry could only relate to a dragon's roar swept by and knocked the panicked soldier on his rear, snow and outraged screams flying in the wake of the cerulean blur.

"Who the hell are you?!"

"Where is my father?"

"Where are you taking us, you dastard?"

"I don't think that's actually the word you want to use, is it?" Captain Falcon replied cheerily, continuing to ignore the questions of his less than pleased passengers just as he had for the past five minutes of the journey. "There's another word that rhymes with dastard that I find much more suitable and insulting than coward."

"Dastard doesn't mean coward," Robin sighed, his hands on his face as much out of frustration as out of the need to conserve space. The space behind the cockpit of Falcon's racer wasn't exactly, well, spacious, and Lucina's sword wasn't exactly a toothpick. In fact, it was exactly not a toothpick, and it took up a lot of the aforementioned not spacious space.

"Well, then what does it mean?" Captain Falcon inquired, both his curiosity and obliviousness completely genuine.

Lucina chose that moment to explode with righteous and indignant rage for the fourth time that ride, her hand flying to the hilt of Falchion as it rested awkwardly propped against her body. This gesture failed miserably as it had the last three times and Falchion once more skittered away from the princess's grasp. As Lucina continued to scrabble for the blade, her elbow violating Robin's space in painful ways, she roared her fury at their chauffeur.

"Don't you dare-"

"Ow."

"-try to change the subject-"

"Ow."

"-dastard!"

"Ow."

"You have attacked us-"

"Lucina, your elbow is attacking me again- OW."

"-and now you have kidnapped us-"

"OW."

"- with nary a sentence of explanation!"

"OW! Gods Lucina, your elbow is a veritable lance!" Lucina paused in her tirade to turn her blue glare upon the tactician, hissing, "My elbow is a veritable elbow and nothing more."

"If you're so desperate for information," Captain Falcon interjected, in his annoyingly chipper manner, "then I'll tell you."

"Finally," Lucina breathed, visibly deflating and letting Falchion finally fall to the floor in peace. "You have begun to speak reason-"

"But you have to define dastard for me first."

Robin threw himself against the opposite wall in an attempt to avoid the predicted flurry of piercing elbow attacks, but Lucina defied his expectations by promptly replying, "It refers to a dishonorable or despicable person." Falcon nodded sagely, jerking the steering wheel to the left to avoid splattering an Ylissean sentry like so much tomato paste.

"Got it. I guess you think I'm dishonorable because I use all of the tools available to me during a fight and don't fall exactly into your description of honor?" Robin responded this time, but only after putting a restraining hand on Lucina's face.

"Actually, no. We think you're dishonorable because you attacked us out of nowhere and then forced us into this strange contraption of yours." Falcon shrugged, narrowly avoiding yet another sentry.

"I felt that a direct approach would be more direct."

"Obviously."

"What the hell is that supposed to even mean?" Lucina spluttered, dragging Robin's hand away from her mouth.

"Well," Captain Falcon began, "my goal was to be very direct with you guys, and the best way to directly achieve that directness was to use a very direct approach and to do so directly."

Lucina blinked once, twice, and then slumped forward, her arms hanging limply at her sides.

"Fine. Now will you please explain your reasons for attacking us and kidnapping us?" she grumbled, looking less like a person and more like a brewing blue cumulonimbus with every passing second. Robin gulped. He hadn't had something to drink in a long time and his throat was annoyingly dry.

"I attacked you for a video shoot." Lucina's head snapped up and Robin's arms snapped up as well.

"I beg your pardon?" she said, confused. Falcon chuckled, waggling a finger at her.

"Now now, a pretty girl like you shouldn't beg for anything, not even my pardon. Whatever that's supposed to be."

"Uh-"

"Anyways, Master Hand wanted to do these super awesome reveal trailers for all the newbies so we can put on a big show for the fans- y'know, so we can get them super hyped about this new Smash Brothers tournament?"

"Wait what-"

"So I had this great idea: how about I go straight to your world and get a completely live bout? It would serve as both an ice breaker and an awesome trailer!" Captain Falcon broke off from his explanation- if it could be called that- and gesticulated violently, the racer swerving with every feigned punch and jab.

Lucina did her slow double blink again, Robin joining her in the act. They remained silent for a good minute, allowing Falcon to continue his mimed fight in peace. After he had deduced the best possibly strategy for tackling the issue at hand, Robin spoke up.

"I'm sorry to be repetitive, but… what?" Captain Falcon slapped his forehead, proudly displaying his sheepish grin like a troll king's banner, and replied, "Sorry, man; I forgot this whole thing is gonna be a culture shock for you." Robin's subsequent sarcastic eye roll nearly tilted the world with its languid annoyance.

"Yes, because culture is what we're worried about here. Honestly, you're making me feel bad for getting captured by yo-"

"So to fix that, I'm gonna bring you guys to the World of Trophies right now!" Before either of his unwilling passengers could even fathom their own protest, Captain Falcon jammed his fist into a large and flashy button that looked like it hadn't been installed so much as it had been affixed to the dashboard with months-old gum, haphazardly placed screws, and a single dab of glue. As such, the violent force so suddenly applied to the button sent it skittering to the side and revealed the pastafarian-esque tangle of wires beneath- wires that were now sparking with as much electricity as three Thoron blasts and were just as hell-bent on killing something as a mage that would cast three Thoron blasts in a row. The good captain stared at this catastrophe about to happen for a few seconds and then shrugged.

"Whoops." Before Lucina could scream her righteous outrage and Robin could cringe, the racer was awash in a psychedelic array of vibrant colors and black smoke that was abruptly cut off by a jarring collision with a sturdy stone wall.

A throbbing, pounding pain in his brain. A dull ache in his limbs and a stiffness in his burned back. All of these sensations registered very unpleasantly for the class Make Chrom Feel Miserable, and thus far they were A+ students. The Ylissean prince groaned, moaned, and opened his eyes to utter darkness.

"... shit."

Note: I don't feel like writing any more for this chapter for reasons born from both laziness and a fear of dragging it too long until I can't write anything else. I only apologize for the fact that it's basically all dialogue, and I kinda really am not sorry at all. It was fun to write.