First Oneshot: Percentages
[warning: profanity ahead]
"Fi," Link hissed. "Fi, I need some analysis here."
There was something of a pause before the Sword Spirit's ethereal figure swooped into view.
"What is it, Master Link?"
"You see that...thing...over there?" Link whispered, nodding towards the other side of the room where Ghirahim was standing, grinning manically at him. "What is it, Fi? Where did it come from? And...why, in the name of all that is pure and holy, is it wearing purple spandex?"
She spent a moment in silence, staring at Ghirahim's manic expression impassively like the loyal machine she was. Then, she seemed to reach some sort of conclusion, and glanced down at Link again. "I predict a profound possibility that this creature is in some way related to Lady Gaga."
Ghirahim licked his lips at them.
"Yeah. Yeah, that figures," Link said. "But how do I know you're not just guessing here?"
Fi, in the process of returning to the Master Sword, stopped mid-way to give him what he could have sworn was a glare. "What prompts you to question the viability of my data, Master?"
Link narrowed his eyes at her. "You didn't give me a percentage."
"Is a percentage necessary, Master? The fact that Ghirahim is the product of some hideous, unhindered mating session between two very fascinating individuals seems, to me, to be common sense."
"But...you always give me a percentage. It's what you're programmed to do. A percentage about the suitability of the contents of my pouch to the current environment, a percentage about the likelihood of me having my face ripped off by angry little nomad things wearing scandalous leopard-print underwear-"
"Moblins," Fi corrected.
"Moblins," Link sighed. "They really are scandalous too. I mean, I'm pretty sure I've seen more than one bulge during-"
"Master Link. The game rating."
"Oh, right. Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that I'm confused as to why now you chose not to give me a percentage. Why Fi? Why no percentage?"
Fi looked back towards Ghirahim again. "Because..."
"Yes?"
"Because...Ghirahim's intense aura of fabulousness is affecting my ability to process data."
Link stared at her, looking fearful. "Is...it really that intense?"
Suddenly, she rounded on him. "No. I was making a false remark, or, if you will, a joke, at your expense. Of course he does not emit an aura of fabulousness. Since when the hell did anyone emit an 'aura of fabulousness'?"
Link wanted to say something about how it had just seemed like common sense to him, but was too shocked by her response to speak.
"Oh, don't look so freaking surprised!" she yelled. "So what if I'm sick of you treating me like some kind of slave? 'Oh, Fi, guess what, bitch? I want your analysis! I want your advice! I want a mother-freaking sandwich!'"
"I never asked for a sandwich-"
"I don't care! I don't care what you've asked for, because I can barely remember how many things you have! Percentages about this, hints about that. It's a miracle you made it through the tutorial phase without me, you pea-brained freak!"
Link's face registered pure hurt. "I was only asking for a percentage..."
"You want a percentage?" Fi glared at him, incredulous. "You want a percentage? Well then guess what. Fuck you. Go buy a calculator."
"But...they're expensive..."
"A calculator. Buy one. And when you get that percentage, you know what I want you to do with it? I want you to shove it up your ass."
Link gaped at her. "And you were warning me about pushing the rating."
"Screw the rating. Screw you. Screw this screwed up mess of a game in which I play the role of the irritating, bland, ultimately forgettable sidekick! People think I suck because I don't have attitude like Midna. Well here's their attitude. Watch me as I storm out, bitches!" Fi snapped, and started to float off in the other direction.
"W-where are you going?"
"I am leaving you to die at the hands of Lady Gaga's man-child. I hope you find the experience more than slightly excruciating."
"What if he rapes me?" Link whispered.
"Don't worry. I predict only a 75% chance of that happening. If so, feel free to hit your complimentary rape alarm. You can be assured that I will not come and rescue you." And with that, she vanished, leaving Link to wonder when he'd picked up such an item in the first place.
He looked down at it miserably. Maybe he really should have picked up a calculator instead.
And maybe filed a restraining order with that.
So, welcome to Legend of Zelda: Oneshots. As you can tell, this one's a Skyward Sword shot, but I'm sure there are other moments in Legend of Zelda games y'all would be interested to see. If anyone's got a Oneshot request, let me have it, and I'll do it if I reckon I find find a way to make it funny. The series could turn out miniscule or long, depending on work, the response this gets, and inspiration. Any author knows the drill. Anyway, thanks for reading!