The cupboard was a safe place. It was a good place to cry.

Ever since his master's death, Pikachu lost the will to live. What's the point, when the only thing you ever loved was taken from you?

After Ash's body was discovered in the subway, authorities were clueless on what to do with Pikachu. He was too tamed to be released back into the wild, but none of Ash's relatives or friends wanted him.

Solution: homeless shelter. Especially designed for pokemon.

Pikachu stayed in the homeless shelter for nearly a year, his thoughts slowly decaying away with time. Sure, the people working at the center were very courteous and helpful, but they were only doing their jobs; they resisted involving themselves to deeply with the pokemon. Doesn't matter. He wanted nothing from no one.

Day in and day out, Pikachu lolled with the flow. He never listened – the irritated workers ended up carrying him everywhere. He rarely ate, missed sleep, wouldn't socialize with the other pokemon,. Even his electricity sizzled out.

Pikachu rotted in the corner of his room, eyes never moving nor blinking; just staring into the darkness, his mind shut off from the world around him. Lifeless. That was the best way to describe him.

Then the invitation from Super Smash Bros. came, asking for a few pokemon to join. Thinking that it may spark some life back into Pikachu, the homeless shelter shipped him off, expecting him to return revved up enough to light a whole city.

Eh, they might have been over their heads a little.

The other Smashers ridiculed him, made fun of him because he, an electric type pokemon, could barely charge a light bulb. The younger Smashers never asked him to play, ignoring him completely. Not even the other pokemon wanted anything to do with him. Too thin, too timid, too boring – why doesn't he just kill himself all ready?

So, in between matches, Pikachu dragged himself to the cupboard in the small kitchen and befriended the darkness. It never insulted him nor laughed at him, or touched him inappropriately. No, the darkness stayed with him, never leaving his side. He could rely on it, to shadow himself from the world. A world tied around his neck, ready to choke him when least expected it. No one out there would ever love him like his master did.

But one man would loosen the noose from Pikachu's neck and nurse him back into the light. Saving him from the fate the other man had in store for him…

While Pikachu wept his soul out in the cupboard, a loud noise startled him. He jumped a little, bumping his head on the shelf above.

Smashers rarely inhabit the small kitchen, preferring to socialize with the other Smashers in the larger one. And when they do make a stop, they don't linger. Pikachu listens to the harmony of cups and dishes ding together, the refrigerator open and hum its tune, and then it's over, the Smasher(s) never sticking around for more than five minutes. It was a perfect place for Pikachu to hide.

But that would change…

Behind the closed cupboard, someone had shoved the door open and let it THUNK* against the wall. A thin, squeaky voice roared out, and what sounded like a chair being moved was thrown against the cabinets, only a few feet from where Pikachu was hiding. The containers and silverware quaked beside him.

"Who do they think they are?!"

Another chair scraped across the floor, another tribal scream from the man, but he must have thrown it in the opposite direction, bouncing around on the counter somewhere. Phew.

"Assign me –CRASH* as an assist trophy – WAM* – while that fat oaf – SHATTER* – gets to fight?!!!"

The chaos began to pick up pace, the destruction increasing in magnitude. Whatever lit his fuse, he was blowing up the kitchen, and sooner or later he would find him and,…what would he do to him?

Pikachu trembled into a ball, hiding his face. Unfortunately, his shaky tail tapped a glass cup over. The cup rolled away, right at the cupboard door. It didn't stop; rather, the cup forced the door ajar, lazily rolling onto the counter below. The shatter of the glass echoed inside Pikachu's empty heart.

Immediately, the man desisted in his tyrannical rage. Silence pierced the kitchen. Pikachu couldn't see the man, but he was sure that his eyes were fixated through the cupboard, ready to rip the poor pokemon's body into pieces.

Pikachu slinked against the wall as the man's footsteps pounded across the room, right in front of the cupboard. A hand reached inside, gripped the door, and slapped it opened.

The man must have been tall, because Pikachu's cupboard was a level above the refrigerator. His pointy head greeted him, huge pinkish-purple nose and all. The mustache wormed above his lip, growing outward and upward, the tips like pencil points. He wore a purple hat, an upside-down 'L' prompted right on the front. His eyes growled with hunger, his pupils boiling like an oily tar.

Pikachu rolled up into a ball again, hiding his face. That face could have packed the devil running with his tail between his legs.

The man spoke, sending needles down Pikachu's spine.

"Gr. Who dare disturb the Great Waluigi?!"

A gloved hand shot into the cupboard and grabbed Pikachu by the head. He squeaked in agony as Waluigi dangled Pikachu in front of him. Anger still thundered in those eyes, but now a sneer flashed across his face. Pikachu patched his eyes with his stubby arms.

When the man spoke again, Pikachu could smell motor oil on his breath.

"Why, you're nothing but a teeny mouse! You dare breath in the same air that the Great Waluigi breathes? You are not allowed to breathe my oxygen! It's mine!"

He lowered Pikachu to his side, still grabbing him by the head, and started to walk to the counter. He ranted on, though Pikachu wasn't sure if it was directed to him or not.

"Why does everyone bow down and worship that fat, stupid man?! I, the Great Waluigi, should getting massages; being fed grapes; having leaves fan me. Not him!"

Waluigi stopped in front of the counter as Pikachu continued to squeak in pain. The pokemon wandered if Waluigi was insane, his mind vacationed into some other world.

"But, now they think they can take advantage of me. After all I have done for them! I created this world with my bare hands – I am the Great Waluigi! They smut around, kicking dust in my face, while that yellow-capped freak gets his stomach rubbed!! What did he do?! I created them!!! I CREATED ALL OF LIFE!!!!"

Pikachu felt the hand on his head tighten, the muscles quivering.

"And now they fight against me! With this," he slopped Pikachu on the counter, but he did not let go of his grip, "They sent a little turd to spy on me. ME! THE GREAT WALUIGI!!!"

The rail-thin, creaky man squatted up and down. His face reeked of revenge, a small glint of insanity dwelling within those eyes.

"I know! I shall build an army! And attack! And steal back all the air that is mine! Mine! And the sun! And gravity! And Vin Deisel! Because I am the Great – "

"Hey big boy…whaddaya yelling about?"

Waluigi and Pikachu turned to the doorway.

A blonde woman, skimped in a bikini, leaned against the doorframe. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and a sly smile formed in the corner of her mouth.

"I said, what are you doing, big guy?"

Pikachu couldn't tell if she was trying to be sexy or not; her voice sounded too deep and a little gruffy. She needed a little work on that girly voice of hers. And she swayed her hips clumsily as she walked to Waluigi. Wait…Waluigi?! What did anyone see in a lunatic like that?

Whatever the reason, he was thankful for another presence, because Waluigi released his grip on his head. Pikachu caressed his throbbing head.

Waluigi straightened his posture, took his hat off, and attempted to comb his disheveled hair with his hand. Pikachu was close to losing his mind – the fearsome, egotistical monster suddenly lost all interest in Pikachu, the anger and rage flushed away.

Waluigi's legs started to shake as the woman neared him. He replied back to her, trying to sound macho, but only came out as a puny pre-pubescent teenager.

"I…Uh, I was…just…showing the guy…who was…boss around here." He pounded a fist against his thin chest, like someone tapping on glass.

"Oh baby. That just…cough*…turns me on."

Pikachu, too shocked (not literally) to run away, sat on his haunches, watching the impossible. This woman wasn't trying very hard to act sexy. Actually, she looked more like she wanted to kill the Waluigi didn't notice. Pikachu guessed that a woman hadn't talked him for most of his life.

A shadow lurked at the other doorway. It was hunched over, carrying something. Then it darted from the doorway and sidled insanely fast along the wall until it ducked down behind the counter.

Waluigi or the woman hadn't noticed, but Pikachu did. He watched the figure move gracefully toward him and duck behind the counter. He looked down behind the counter – and he thought he saw his master again.

The twinkling in his eyes; the warmth, the love, the happiness bubbling in those eyes. He could feel his veins jolt up, willpower and electricity flowing through them. The man's smile radiated brighter than the sun itself…Pikachu had found the light, and it was going to rescue him from the darkness.

The man gestured a finger to his mouth and pointed to Waluigi. Pikachu nodded, and Luigi beckoned him to hop into his arms.

Pikachu didn't hesitate. He feathered into the man's arms, letting warmth vibrate into his frail body.

But the man immediately placed him down and grabbed an object from behind him. Pikachu couldn't believe what he was seeing.

The man held a lit bob-omb in his hands. Only it was painted yellow. With black eyes. And red cheeks. And a lightning bolt-like tail attached to the back. It horribly resembled Pikachu.

Meanwhile, the conversation continued between Waluigi and the blonde woman.

"So, you say you're the greatest in the world. Um, please, tell me…more…"

"Well, I was born in the heavens, and bestowed great powers so I, the Great Waluigi –"

The man placed the bomb on the counter, trying to replicate the exact position Pikachu was in. When he was satisfied, he grabbed Pikachu and snuck back to the doorway. He sidled up against the wall, and peered behind it, watching Waluigi and the woman.

"OK then. I'll see you tonight then…naked…"

She thrusted a womanly hip into his. Waluigi sailed across the room, crashing face-first into the wall.

Pikachu watched as the woman attempted to walk sexily over to their hiding spot. She tripped over herself, but regained balance. When she reached the doorway, she blew back a kiss then hopped to the opposite of the doorway. She was also peering into the room, but with a disgusted look.

Waluigi jumped from off the ground, landing right onto his feet. He danced around, hugging himself, croaking out noises that Pikachu supposed was singing, and then grabbed the Pikachu bomb. He was too wrapped up in his own fantasy to obviously see it wasn't Pikachu. Then he did something that made Pikachu laugh for the first time in five years.

He kissed the bomb, emphasizing the splotchy noises. But a second into the kiss, the bomb blew up in his face.

After the smoke cleared away, Waluigi's face looked like something from out of Looney Tunes. His face was ashen-black, the hair off his head completely blown off. Pikachu couldn't even see his mustache anymore – it also must have blown off.

After giving a faint cough, he keeled over.

Five seconds passed. Ten seconds passed. No one moved.

Then the woman suddenly fisted up balls of her hair and yanked it.

"Oh gosh! I can't believe I did that! I don't even wear this! How did you talk me into this, Luigi?!"

As she was gibbering on, she ran over to a pile of metal. She lifted it up, which looked like a robotic suit, and proceeded to put it on.

The man chuckled and responded, "Heh. Samus, you could use a little work on that sexy walk of yours. I think even Bowser can do better than that."

Samus, now in her power suit, cocked her arm cannon at him. But the man only smiled. Then he looked down at Pikachu.

"Hey there fella, close call. Hope he didn't hurt you. Name's Luigi."

For the first time in his life since his master was killed, Pikachu said his name.

"Pikachu!"

A spark crinkled in his cheeks.

No longer would he rely on shadows to hide him from the world. No longer would he mope around. No longer would cry in his sleep, wishing for his master to come back.

Here he rested in the arms of a man; a man who possessed the nature of his former master, who sparked life back into his heart. The noose had loosened from his neck, left behind in the forgotten darkness. He wanted to live again.

Who are the last two Smashers? How will Peach react to her eaten cake? What fate awaits Kirby and the rest of the Smashers? Is Wario dead? Where did Mario go, and what's this 'present'? Will Waluigi return? Will Luigi uncover his destiny?

Stay tuned to find out, and review if you likey so far.