The Problem With the Cold Season- Chapter 4

"Some Things Just Never Get Fixed"

It was a dark and stormy night.

Except it was actually, a beautiful, cloudless day and the SSB Mansion residents were all outside for a celebratory picnic/fun day in lead up to the Ultimate Tournament. The tournament that some would guess would balance the universe.

Kirby and Wario were fiercely entering a third round of their current hot dog eating contest, much to the disgust of some of the other Smashers. Samus covered her son's eyes to shield him from the atrocities being commited against hot dog and bun kind alie. Kirby thought he was doing well, considering he was basically the equivalent of a roomba let loose upon a landfill, until a feeling hit him. A feely feel that felt... feely. A familiar feeling, long forgotten, long dreaded, long unawoken.

A sneeze.

The end.

Oh you wish we'd end it there, don't you?

There was a moment of panic, because to sneeze now would be disaster, but there was no really to stop a sneeze.

And with a sneeze that mimicked the sounds of nails on a chalkboard, a squirrel barking, and that noise Jim Carrey makes in Dumb and Dumber, Kirby quickly absorbed Wario and gained his powers.

Which, in this case, was about as crippling a handicap as any, considering Wario's copy ability made Kirby about as effective as a vacuum with no suction.

As unthrilled as Kirby was by this developement, the audience was less so. There was, for those who had been there, no forgetting the events from ten years prior.

It would be hard to forget Samus chasing a screaming Kirby with Meta Knight's and Link's swords in hand, yelling profanities (Snake still had the videos).

It would be hard to forget the Great Eggening.

And it would be hard to forget the destruction of the garage following a rogue Smash ball and a poorly timed Falcon Punch to Wolf's tail (legend had it that the Halberd still spoke of its own accord, even ten years later). The smoldering ruins of the former garage still remained, a testament to the fight.

So, while Wario remained oblivious, wah-ing his way through the hot dogs, the horror spread.

"Great, another event day ruined," muttered Samus.

"Don't worry," Bayonetta reassured her, "This is only a plot device so the authors can shortly revive their long forgotten Smash Bros fanfiction." In return, the Umbra Witch only got a blank stare.

"She wasn't even here for last time." No one saw who said it; there was far too much focus on Kirby for the moment. Who, in typical Kirby fashion, was staring blankly at everyone, Wario style bike helmet on his round little head.

"Ummmm..."

"Does this mean I win?" Wario, finally vocally relevant to the plot and no longer oblivious, chimed in with excitement.

"Yeah, whatever dude. Knock yourself out." Wario laughed and pulled his bike out of nowhere and sped off. The audience dispersed, the contest obviously over and the threat of Kirby with what could only be a cold hanging over them. Kirby grabbed a few hot dogs for the road and wandered away. There were still other events, and the news probably hadn't spread yet. Plus it wasn't like he felt bad, no not at all. This was just a one time sneeze, probably. It couldn't be the cold season, not yet. It wasn't like this was a world ending cataclysm that would doom the entire SSB Mansion and all of its inhabitants to a lifetime of pain and misery only the likes of which Tabuu could create, not at all. At least, not as much as the pain and misery on Ike's face and the confusion on Rosalina's as Kirby suddenly found himself between the two of them.

"Kirby, do you mind?"

"Ike, this is a humor/adventure, not a romance, save your proposal for that mess of an attempt, alright?"

"... What's that supposed to mean?!" Kirby shrugged.

"No clue. But I might be getting a cold again. Save Rosalina first, she's too pure to witness this."

"You're the worst."

"Can't say I didn't warn you." Ike flipped Kirby the bird and led Rosalina away, leaving Kirby alone again. Which, considering there were still other Smashers milling around, would likely not be a long time thing. Especially considering Kirby had the attention span of a goldfish and found himself wandering to the next smell of food. Whatever it was smelled glorious, and he let his sense lead him to another gathering of Smashers.

"Hey, what's going on here?" Link, one of the Smashers who was in the current group, disdainfully looked down at the little pink puff, giving a curious look to the bike helmet still on his head.

"Apple shooting challenge. First to three wins some strawberry shortcake." At just the words Kirby knew he had to get involved. However, a very familiar feeling hit him again. He tried to keep from sneezing, but with a noise that sounded like a dolphin cover of the Spongebob theme, a cat screeching in the night, and the low mournful song of a lost whale in the deep ocean, long forgotten by its friends and family, he spat out the Wario ability- and found himself quickly having absorbed Link and stolen his copy. Link gave him a look that was equally terrified and recognition, before running off, presumably to hide. At least, Kirby fully expected him to hide. That was a Link thing to do, he was sure. Somehow no one else seemed to notice, and Kirby began to wonder if any of the other Smashers even actually cared.

"Who's next for the challenge?" The booming voice of Master Hand, who seemed to be running this game, drew Kirby's short attention span.

"ME!" It was a screech that made the crowd around him cover their ears; he noticed Sheik elbow Dedede and mutter "Control the pink blob, tubby" to which Dedede muttered back "Not even god himself could control that abomination". Master Hand let out a sigh at the sound that was somewhere between defeat and regret.

"Alright, fine, come up here Kirby." Master Hand, as usual, seemed about 100% done with everyone here, but that wasn't unusual. Everyone knew the day that had finally broken him was August 20th, 2008, the day that he came home to the garage having been destroyed. Wait, we already went over that didn't we?

Anyways...

Kirby headed up to the table that must be the place the other Smashers were aiming from; there were some whispers about him having Link's copy ability, some of curiousity and some of concern. The concerned whispers mostly came from those who had been there for the fateful event ten years ago. Kirby wasn't concerned, anytime they saw him with a copy ability since that day they worried.

"... I see you came prepared."

"Yep!"

"... Well, I can't stop you, so take aim whenever you feel like it." Kirby blinked, looking at the table that was currently in his field of view.

"Ummm..."

"Oh my god, there's a stepstool under the table."

"Oh yeah, thanks." Kirby pulled it out from under table, then scrambled up onto it. He took careful aim, and...

The feeling hit, and with the sound of a microwave beeping at 3am, the seagull singing in The Little Mermaid, and silverware on a dinner plate, another sneeze forced him to send an arrow far, far off course. In fact, the entire group behind him watched as the arrow sailed far off to the left, and, narrowly avoiding Dark Pit bragging about how edgy he was to an unamused Shadow the Hedgehog, narrowly avoiding an intense street style dance off between Mario and Mega Man, and narrowly avoiding the plot holes in this story, the arrow landed dead center on the thumb of the one, the only, the notorious Crazy Hand. There was a silence, not unlike the silence of the void. Followed only by Crazy Hand's highly recognizable shrieking. There was no way it hurt him as much as the shriek implied (the arrows Kirby got from Link's copy were more like tiny needles), but Crazy Hand acted as if he had been stabbed by a massively, comedically oversized lance. And the giant hand followed up his blood curdling shriek with a crazy serpentine maneuver. It only became obvious a few moments later that he was shrieking a word, and it took more than a few seconds to recognize the word:

"DRAGON FRUIT!"

Which was immediately followed up by an enraged Master Hand:

"GODDAMMIT KIRBY!"

"Oops." There was no way the pink puff could smile more sheepishly, and Master Hand seemed to quiver with rage, before letting out a noise of frustration and flying off to stop his brother from destroying everything- which would even be impossible under normal conditions, and this was far from a normal condition. The crowd behind him seemed to have apparated, as suddenly the area was deserted. Kirby watched a single, lone Waddle Dee roll by, tumbleweed style.

"Well this day is just turning out lovely." Kirby sighed and hoped off the step stool. And then he remembered the strawberry shortcake. It wasn't that hard to find and consume, thank god- he would have killed a man for that cake. No, really. Any man, woman, or mouse that got in his way would have paid dearly for getting between him and that shortcake.

There seemed to be panic spreading throughout the grounds now, which was more than a little annoying. He wasn't sick, it was just a few unconnected sneezes! They were just working themselves into fear, that's what this was. Yeah. Not a cold. Still, he sighed.

He might as well find his way either back inside the house orrrrrr...

With the distant screams of "KUMQUATS, KUMQUATS ARE TAKING OVER BROTHER" and "CRAZY, PACMAN IS NOT A KUMQUAT!", Kirby smelled another delectable, unavoidable smell, and suddenly any thought of quarantining himself in the mansion and thus bringing the plot of this rambling story to an even more dead halt than the crashing of the fanfiction site used to post it, he decided once again to follow his nose and find the next snack of the day.

Avoiding the few Smashers that might have stopped him, he quickly weaved his way across the grounds to yet another station, this time being a stop for pastries baked by Peach. Which, were among some of Kirby's favorites, because boy could that princess bake. Every kind of chocolate confection he could imagine was on display, and despite having eaten a month's worth of hot dogs and a strawberry shortcake earlier, he could not turn down a good chocolate pastry.

However, Falco happened to be in the way, taking his sweet time to choose a pastry of his own, while also trying to converse with Fox. Kirby had the patience of a hummingbird however and just glowered at the overly large bird-man-thing.

And then that feeling came back. That nagging, tickling, almost aching feeling.

The sneeze was returning.

And like a smoke detector frantically screeching to warn a homeowner of low battery, like a child throwing a violent tantrum in a Walmart, like a ringing in your ears that you can't get rid of, the sneeze hit him, and like it always had, he spat out Link's copy and inhaled the only person in range- or rather, bird-man-thing Falco Lombardi.

"HEY, what's the big idea?" Kirby just smiled sheepishly at the Star Fox pilot.

"Ummmm..." Fox, on the other hand, just backed away.

"Falco, it's the cold. He's come to kill again."

"I never killed anyone!"

"That's what you want us to think, you pink devil!" Both Kirby and Falco looked at Fox like he was, well, crazy. Fox just stared in pure horror at Kirby, like the pink puff had morphed into Pennywise the Clown in front of his face. Which, with Falco's copy ability, wasn't far off.

"Fox, shut up."

"DEATH IS UPON US. REPENT!" With that, Fox ran off, alerting any Smashers who hadn't been warned quietly by their friends already that once again, the day of reckoning- or sneezening- was upon them. Falco rolled his eyes. Kirby, unconcerned with a giant blue bird's opinion at all, shoved him to the side since at this point he just wanted something sweet- only to find that Peach had locked up shop and the booth was now an impenetrable fortress of metal doors painted pink.

"FALCO, NOW I CAN'T GET ANY CHOCOLATE!" Falco decided it was better to not argue with Kirby in that moment and ran off. Kirby sighed.

"This day just gets better and better." There was a beginning of chaos on the grounds; somewhere he heard someone screaming for their baby, although he knew there were no babies here, not since Samus and [NAME REDACTED] got married and had their kid a few years ago. Crazy Hand flew by at incredible speeds, yelling about kumquats again; Master Hand followed, not even stopping to glare at Kirby. However, that was the last of the people around; minus another Waddle Dee tumbleweed.

Huh, maybe Falco's copy could blast a hole through the metal doors on the booth...

A quick try later, and no. No they could not. The beams bounced off the door and quickly lit the grass on fire. Which, was not good. Because the grass was dry and crunchy and had been for awhile, as Smashville was under a minor drought. So Kirby got to watch as the fire spread like, well, a wildfire.

"Uh oh."

The booths went up like kindling (which, basically they were), and somewhere in the distance he heard the voices of the other Smashers yelling. This had, very suddenly, gotten out of hand. In that moment, he had a decision to make- stay here and suffer the consequences of automatically being known as the firestarter, or make a desperate run for the mansion and hope it could be blamed on someone else. He chose the latter, because god help him if Master Hand discovered he was the starter of the fire.

It was a crazed run back to the mansion- other Smashers were attempting to put out the fire, which was a far more noble quest, and he commended them highly for that. He, however, only managed to be noble in his own home world, and thus ran back to the mansion at speeds even Sonic would be jealous of. Okay, not Sonic. Maybe, at best, Olimar.

Either way, he was fast.

Or at least, he was until he tripped on a rock and rolled like an out of control marble down a hill that usually seemed to gently slope to provide the grounds a beautiful view of the sprawling city below, but now only seemed to serve as the deranged bowling alley of a madman. He rolled for what felt like days, weeks, months, a decade even (really, it felt like a literal decade) and then he hit something. Something hard. Something metal. Something...

Familiar.

For the red paint job and sleek design that now had a very obviously Kirby shaped dent in it was the freshly refurbished, freshly washed, freshly untouched by any human hands 1967 Mustang of the one and only Samus Aran. And with a dent that big in the side and a fire rapidly spreading across the grounds (and Crazy Hand yelling now in the distance about lazy writing) Kirby decided there was only one thing to do.

Blow up the Mustang.

So, stumbling a little in the daze from hitting the car so hard, he got up and ran around the other side far away. This was the only logical option. Samus would just assume the fire had gotten it. Maybe they'd all assume the Mustang had started the fire. Cars can spontaneously combust right? If all else failed, he could even blame it on the Halberd. It didn't have near enough sentience to speak in its own defense, he was certain.

Barring any further inane thought from stopping him or this trainwreck of a plot, he took aim and fired. And fired. And held down the trigger while the tiny blaster bolt barely made a dent in the car. At this rate it'd take another decade. So he held down the trigger with his stubby little stubs and just wished and prayed and hoped that this would work and he could get off the hook.

And after what felt like a literal eternity and enough time for every single Marvel Cinematic Universe movie to release, the car finally, FINALLY, took notice of the plot- or rather, laser gun assault- and caught fire. And Kirby, with all the confidence and bravado of any stubborn but irrestibly adorable mostly grown being, decided that he was one of the few cool enough to not look at explosions. Turning to walk away from the car, he waited for the right moment, and as soon as he heard the sound of the explosion triggering, uttered his wittiest one liner yet:

"And that's just the way the cookie crumbles, motherfu- AHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Being the somewhat unsmart being that he was, he did not expect to get launched. Like a bullet out of a gun, through the air, he flew, uncontrollably. Somewhere a kid wished on what he thought was a shooting star; but really, it was just Kirby flying at terminal velocity through the air, a missile with no guidance system. He was propelled through a window and be it fate or just luck, landed on a soft object. Fate was not so lucky in that he then bounced off the soft object and face planted into a wall.

Which is where an unamused Samus found him later. Her glare was met with a sheepish grin from the now copy ability free puff.

"Hi Samus."

"Kirby."

"Soooo..."

"You're in big trouble."

"... I figured."

"There's not enough cold medicine in the world to save us from you, is there?"

"Nope!"

"I hate you."

And that, as they say, is just the way the cookie crumbles. Motherfucker.

So uh, the authors of this finally finished school. Just in time to bring you this update 10 years to the day of the last time we updated. Here's hoping it doesn't seem to rushed- we got the idea to continue this for one last chapter a week ago.

MK and Link