Corneria.
It's a beautiful evening in the only planet that seems capable of suitably supporting life here in the Lylat System: the sky is perpetually bright blue, the various flashing polygons are going home from work, and the thirteen suns are all setting at once. It is a moment to be enjoyed by all. Nay, not by all, but rather by all but one: one named Andross. The floating head of doom and evil, as it were, is plotting another shenanigan, and expects his greatest foes to pick up the mess.
Yes, he summons his armies and his tanks to the surface of the planet of Corneria, and these military forces land with the grace of a part-timing employee who has been with the company for about four months and knows the ropes. For indeed, these gnat-shaped starcraft, these small tanks, and these giant robots have all been through this mission before: twice, in fact. "We're going to take over the universe again, huh," says an old-timing giant robot.
"Yeah. Shit," says a gnat-shaped starship next to him. "Any minute now, Star Fox is gonna show up and shoot me in the eye again. Fuck." Clearly, this is something that Andross has not prepared for, despite it being his third invasion. The invasive atmosphere is something that even the people of the otherwise lovely Corneria are well-accustomed to, and the street vendors begin selling lemonades and rugs and other local wares to the Andross Militia.
As Andross himself comes down from his high horse to get a sip of the widely-renowned Cornerian iced coffee, he barks a quick-witted retort to his sarcastic invasionary forces, "Shut the hell up, you stupid whores." He fumbles in his wallet for a five but can only find a fifty.
"Sorry, buddy—I don't got change. Unless you want twenty cups, no can do," says that vendor.
Andross mumbles some other-worldly curse words and turns back to vent some now-pent up rage on his subordinates. "As long as you fuckers don't fuck anything up, I'm not going to have to cancel my plans to build a summer home on Fichina." He pulls a cigarette out and attempts to light it while he utters a few more profanities under his breath about tardiness to drill practice.