FILLERZ! Hello people! This is actually a little filler chapter, because . . . well, I only have one suggestion. If anyone else wants to give me his or her choice, do so in a review or PM! I accept anon reviews, ladies and gentlemen! Around 2 weeks from today, I'll close the suggestions box and write the next chapter!
Vaati, go away. Now . . . Since Nintendo's lawyers are still at my house, I own nothing.
"Hello, fans, this is Smash Interviews! Or, as I like to call it, Smashviews!" The speaker was a tall, good-looking man with neatly trimmed dark brown hair and bright hazel eyes. He wore a black suit and red tie, and went by the name of Zach Parker. He sat in a comfortable chair onstage, in front of a set that looked like a pair of windows, behind which projectors displayed a beautiful garden and forest. Along the walls where the audience sat were hangings in different colors, each about eight or nine feet long, with a Smash symbol and Smashviews! embroidered into it. The producers didn't like Zach's taste, but they couldn't do anything about it, he was the only one willing (or stupid ) enough to do this show.
"Hey, are you Gerard Way?!" a Goth looking girl screamed from the back row. She wore dog chains and a disturbing amount of black makeup, with a T-shirt that read, Gerard Way is my Hero!
"No, I'm not," replied Zach in an annoyed voice. Twelve people immediately stood up and left. "Wait! Gerard's my cousin!" twelve people came back, like a flock of disturbingly dark, Goth pigeons. Who the heck is Gerard Way? wondered the Smashviews! host. Aloud, he said, "Today we have a particular person with us to do an interview. He's been forgotten in most fanfics, he's been called ugly, stupid, boring, and evil, HEEEE-EEEERREEE'S . . . MEWTWO!"
Mewtwo floated onstage amidst scattered applause. Cheer! he commanded. Three or four people began to cheer halfheartedly, afraid of what the Psychic would do to them if they didn't.
Ridley's ghost, this guy is a creep! Zach told himself, in the safety of his own mind.
I heard that, replied Mewtwo.
Eep! "So, Mister Mewtwo . . ." began Zach. This wasn't going well already . . . .
Mewtwo only, snapped the Psychic Pokémon.
Dang, his moods change fast . . . . "Yes, Mewtwo," said Zach nervously, beads of sweat beginning to develop on his pale forehead. "So, Mewtwo, uh . . . do you feel angry that people often portray you as a mindless killer?"
Yes, of course. I am not as cruel as people believe me to be. I must admit, I did attack that pitiful Trainer Ash, but . . . he deserved it. He was bugging me.
"DID NOT!" this wasn't the Goth, but a Pokémon fanatic dressed like Red. He really looked rather pathetic with plastic Poké Balls on his belt, a red cap with a Poké Ball on it, and a backpack that looked like he'd borrowed it from his little sister. Pokémon and Barbie don't go well, after all . . .
A vein twitched in Mewtwo's forehead, and he lifted the boy, throwing him directly into a huge blue-and-silver Smashviews! hanging that decorated the walls. Dazed, he slid gently to the ground, unharmed. He then stood up clumsily and ran out, screaming, "MOMMY! The kitty cat hurt me!"
Zach was getting worried. I'm getting even more scared now . . . wait, Mewtwo can hear me!
Exactly.
"Get outta my head!" shrieked Zach, hiding under his chair. Amazing how a full-grown man can fit half his body under a chair like that. He began to bawl. "I don't want you seeing the memories of my traumatic childhood!"
"Mama, can I have some more cake?" a five-year-old Zach asked his mother, whose name was Lillian. She frowned.
"No, you've had three slices and you're extremely pudgy for your age, Zach. Now, off to bed, my sweet little boy." She picked him up and turned down the hall to his room. "NO! CAKE! GIMME CAKE! MOMMY!" the little boy beat on his mother's back, furiously screaming and begging for more sweets. Poor, poor Lillian . . . .
"Shut up and stop reminiscing! Get the kitten off the stage!" a fat man in the second row roared. There was a silence while his words penetrated Zach's skull.
Zach stopped crying and stood up angrily. Mewtwo was already powering up a Shadow Ball. They walked calmly to the edge of the stage and glared at the man in question. He paled. Uh-oh . . . .
Kitten?"Did you tell me to shut up?" Zach asked, a shade too patiently.
"Crap." The fat man didn't have much time to say anything else before both Zach and Mewtwo attacked him, Mewtwo with his awesome powers, Zach with a modest 9 MM and five-inch long knife. The fat man screamed bloody murder. Too late.
"DIE!" Zach shrieked. "Nobody tells me to shut up OR force me to stop thinking about stuff! I'll kill you! I'll kill you!"
I'm a Psychic cat Pokémon, not a KITTEN!! DIE!
Vaati hastily ran onstage, microphone in hand, wincing at the scene. The audience was fleeing the room, away from the murderous looks on both host and guest's faces. "Sorry, folks, we have to cut this short," he said quickly. "We'll continue this next episode! Everybody out! Cut! CUT! SECURITY!"
And so, Zach was hauled off the stage by a Wire-Frame security unit, the fat man was taken to the hospital, and Mewtwo escaped with his victim's wig. And that's the end.
Commercials!
"Remember, only buy Hylian Cucoos, the best quality meat in all of Smash City!" A beaming Snake held up two frozen Cucoos in bags. He was wearing not cameo, but a crisp black suit, powder-blue shirt, and tie. His normally unkempt hair was neatly combed and gelled into place, and, even stranger still, he didn't have a cigarette in his mouth. Anyone who knew Solid Snake and saw that commercial laughed themselves stupid.
Suddenly, Snake leaned close to the camera, the happy expression gone from his face; he now looked almost panicky. "Please buy them," he said urgently, "If I screw this up, the producers are gonna . . ."
"SNAKE!"
"Eep!" Snake hid under his cardboard box. "Nobody here!" he threw the frozen chickens out of the box. They rolled innocently to the producer's feet.
"Kill him," he said conversationally. The two armed security guards dragged the poor, screaming Snake out of the box. The producer turned to the camera, a sunny smile on his face. "And remember; if you don't buy our chickens, Solid Snake will die!"
I swear, I know it's random, and not very funny, but . . . I'm not a funny person. :( Sorry.
Vaati: Am I a producer?
. . . Sure, why not?
Vaati: Yay!
Uhhh . . . be sure to review and, uh, give me suggestions for the teams and whatnot. Second, if you think my humor needs work (probably you do) tell me what I could have done on this to make it funnier so I know next time. :) Thanks!