I abstain.

Who the fuck needs writer's block? Come on. Power through.

Skip a little. What happened next?

The opening ceremony was really as much as a ridiculous experience as you could get.

Cheerleaders, marching bands, music, all this fanfare for not even the match- simply the arrival.

Upon seeing this spectacle, the Tournament of Roses would have shit itself.

I know what they'd do, because I nearly did it.

A clusterfuck of neon and flashbulbs and "Hey mister, look over here!" And "Can I get a picture?"

Mario loved that sort of crowd. He bathed in it. He was photogenic, not just photogenic, mediagenic. Everyone wanted to be around him. Be with him.

Me, I was a whole different animal when it came to this sort of attention. Shuffle awkwardly. Smile and answer questions. The press game is not my strongpoint.

Which was fine; I wasn't interested in this sort of socialite bullshit. I just wanted to fight, to become a national hero, to make my brother proud. As far as I'm concerned at the time, this was just baggage. Enjoy it while you can.

I know this is probably an often said statement, maybe ad nausea, but this whole Smash thing, as convoluted and terrible as it is... It's not a right. It's not a right, as you may consider to it to be. Take the biggest cash cows and shove them in the ring. No, it's nothing like that- hence, why Marth and Roy and Dr. Mario were ever considered. It's a privilege.

I guess you can say we're privileged.

Phone call. Ringing. Not for me, for the reporter. He's supposed to be turning in a hot story right now. Instead, he's lying in a pool of blood.

I let it ring. Voicemail never hurt anybody.

That phone keeps on fucking ringing.

Answering questions at the media booth.

The questions aren't really about me.

"What is it like fighting on the same level with your brother, a legend?"

Well, eh.... I feel proud. I feel like I can hold up with anybody.

"Do you get any first-year jitters?"

I haven't felt them yet, I'm hoping they never come.

"What are you expecting? First-year smashers always have a rough time adjusting. Are you taking any sort of special approach to this?"

Wow. Um, well, I'm going to take every match... Take every challenge each and all the same. I'm going to give my all every time.

Clear cut media answers.

Taught to me by the man himself.

"Alright. That'll work."

I step down from the podium. My trial's over. Hopefully.

The phone's still ringing.

I think it's ringing for me.