T Minus 18 Days
"Today, I'm going to show you how to make the perfect gnocchi..."
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"Previously, on 'A Stranger Among Us'…"
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"Darren, you ARE the father!"
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"Bad boys, bad boys, whatcha gonna do, whatcha gonna do when they come for you? Bad boys, bad boys..."
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"I gave you my heart, and you ripped it into a million pieces! I thought you cared about me!"
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"This is despicable! We welcomed you into our family, and now you've deceived us!"
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"Coming up, on Judge Judy..."
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Mario turned off his TV and headed over to his balcony. There was nothing on TV which interested him right now. Only one thing held his thoughts—his bout with Luigi.
He knew that Luigi was gonna give it his all this afternoon. He knew that things were going to get intense between them. He knew that their playstyles would clash. He knew he would have to face those down throw combos. And he knew that tensions and emotions would run high, along with that other side of their relationship.
Mario was really looking forward to it.
He also kinda hoped he won. His win-loss record wasn't looking too great. Somewhere, he'd slacked off. That was why he spent more time in the Training Area. Losing to Luigi would not do him any favors. But if he did—if he lost—oh, well. That was how life worked sometimes.
When he wasn't watching Luigi triumph or try to triumph over opponents with his combos and strategy, Mario was practicing. First, with the Sandbags, which stood surprisingly well against his iconic strength and power. Then, with some Miis, including Chad. The man in red could tell that Chad had softened his attitude toward Luigi, but that didn't mean he went easy on him. Chad, for his part, knew he deserved it and didn't complain. After Mario finally allowed him to limp out of the Training Room, he rested for a while and sparred with DK, Link, Samus and Kirby before retiring to his room and trying unsuccessfully to find something interesting on TV.
This bout would take up most, if not all, of his energy. He knew that he should spend some time resting up or filling up on some carbs. He also knew that he should psych himself up and not think about Falco. It would be distracting.
He couldn't help it. What would Falco be doing during that fight? Whose side would he be on? Would he be watching, period?
Would be use this opportunity to try and butter him up by rooting for him?
Mario gripped the balcony with both hands, breathing heavily. He was sweating! When was the last time he felt such anger? Was it when Koopa ruined everyone's day by grabbing his Princess? Was it when the higher-ups ended Luigi's special year? Was it...?
He wiped his brow with his sleeve and took a few more breaths, calming down. Maybe Luigi was still thinking about this, too. He'd told him he'd decided to give his friendship with Falco another shot. But now, Mario didn't think it was a good idea, because Falco didn't seem to appreciate it. Luigi needed to bail before that bird hurt him again.
His phone buzzed.
Mario pulled it out and smiled. It was a text from Luigi: U ready for this Bro?
He texted back: Sure am. I hope I don't make u cry when I win.
LOL, Luigi replied.
What's so funny?
Idk Bro. U hungry?
Not really. Why?
Bcuz ur about to eat my fireballs.
U wish Lil' Bro.
I hope you practiced a lot.
It's your practicing u should worry about.
Hahaha. May the best bro win.
In bocca al lupo, Luigi.
Crepi!
Mario chuckled and put his phone away. The fires were stoked and the energy and tension were building. He turned on his music and began bobbing and weaving about his room, shadowboxing, pretending to dunk, up-tilt combo and Cape his younger brother.
Five o' clock couldn't come soon enough.
1.1.1
It was now 4:15. Vince, Manny and Shane stood at the appointed spot, flanked by the two Steves, Chase, Falco and the other conspirators. Like a gathering of hawks, they watched the spectators filing in and milling about at the concessions stand, searching for potential recruits.
"Too bland," Falco was saying. "I'm not seeing it yet."
"Patience, little bird," cooed Vince.
Two superstars, two heroes in their own right, taking each other on. The hype was real, and it was everywhere. There were fans, dressed in Mario's iconic getup, wearing shirts with the iconic Mushroom symbol on them, wearing shirts with Mario's face on them, lugging accessories and merchandise with Mario or his insignia on them and carrying over-the-top signs cheering on Nintendo's mascot. And there were Luigi's fans, wearing t-shirts or tanks with Luigi's face on them or clad in his green-and-blue ensemble, wearing green tiaras or headdresses or baseball caps, toting Luigi-themed merchandise, some with replicas of a certain ghost vacuum on their backs and hefting hand-painted signs encouraging the man in green. They shouted good-naturedly to the Mario fans, who responded in kind. They bought their food and their souvenirs, and then they filled the seats in the spectator area. Master Hand knew this was a huge affair, and thus put in some additional seats, and oh, boy, they were filled! Mario fans over here, Luigi fans over there. Men and women removed their shirts and applied their body paint. Red and blue on this side, green and blue on that side. Peach and Rosalina pulled face-painting duty for both camps, adorning cheeks with shells, Stars, Mushrooms and the like.
"We'd do better mingling with the crowd," whispered Chase.
"You and the others go on ahead," said Vince. "My brothers and I will set up a command center outside."
"And if you're spotted?" Falco wanted to know.
"Fear not; we'll be so overt, it'll be covert," winked Manny.
"I need to find a seat, anyway," mused Falco as he allowed himself to blend into the crowd at a concession stand. He was hungry for some cheese fries and an extra-large drink.
After he ordered his food, he saw a youth in Mario's shirt and overalls, holding hands with a small girl wearing a red blouse and blue jumper.
"Hey," he called to the youth. "I like the way those coveralls fit! What's your secret?"
"Sorry, birdie, not interested," said the youth.
"Where are you from?" Falco asked.
"Oakland."
"Could you—come here for a second?"
Slinging the small girl onto his hip, the youth walked over to join Falco.
"My name's Falco. What's yours?"
"Ethan. And this is my sister, Anna."
"Hi," said Anna.
"Where's your mom and dad?" Falco wanted to know.
"They're waiting for us in the stands. They told me they could take little Anna here to get whatever treat her tiny heart desires."
"Interesting," said Falco. "So, are you rooting for our good mascot, Super Mario?"
"I guess so," said Ethan. "I mean, I like them both."
"Me, too!" Anna piped up.
"Ah, but both of them can't win this match. You have to root for one or the other," said Falco.
"Mom and Dad say that Mario should win, because he's the better brother," offered Ethan.
"They're absolutely right. Mario is the better brother. He's Mr. Nintendo. He's Mr. Video Game Himself. He's Player One. He's our unofficial spokesperson. I'm counting on him to win."
"But my friends at school say that Luigi jumps higher," said Anna.
"Yeah, but, he's very slippery," Ethan said gently.
"Mom and Dad don't like him very much," pouted Anna.
"Who? Luigi?" Falco asked innocently.
"You must forgive my little sis. She tends to overexaggerate things." Ethan ruffled Anna's hair. "It's not that they don't like Luigi. They just—like Mario better. With Luigi being Player Two and a softie and all."
"What do you think?" Falco asked.
"Mario has a whole bunch of games, so I guess that speaks for itself," shrugged Ethan.
"Let me ask you one more thing before you go get your food. What do you think about Luigi's year? Do you think he deserved it?"
"It's like—Nintendo thought they owed him because it was his birthday. Why? What's this about?"
"It's about Luigi's down throw combos," explained Falco.
Ethan cringed. "My friends squash me in Smash because of them. I hate them, and so do Mom and Dad."
"You're just upset because Mario doesn't have them," Anna pointed out.
"Anna..."
"No, she's right. Mario doesn't have them, but Luigi does. But Luigi's the younger brother, the sidekick. He didn't earn those combos. Mario does most of the grunt work."
"Luigi's not a bad person!" Anna cried out.
"We're not saying that Luigi's a bad person," said Falco. "I think Luigi's a good person. He's just better off as the second player."
"Is he?" Anna sassed. "Why are you so mean to him?"
"We're not being mean to him," Ethan assured his sis.
"No, we're not," added Falco. "We just want his combos toned down. Do you think it would be fair and balanced if he had such a big advantage?"
"I guess not," mumbled Anna.
"If Master Hand gets enough feedback on the situation, then he'll talk to the higher-ups to have things changed," said Falco. "That's what some friends of mine and I are trying to do."
"Well, ah, good luck with that," said Ethan. "We'd better get going before our parents start to worry."
"You know what I think?"
"That you're gonna get somewhere if you keep talking?" Ethan deadpanned.
"I think you should do what you're doing now. Root for Mario. But join with us and root for Mario. Keep the status quo in place. Maybe you can start winning over your friends."
"We'll think about it, Falco," said Ethan. "Okay? It was nice meeting you."
"Likewise."
Falco watched the two melt back into the crowd, feeling confident that he didn't have just Ethan, but also Anna.
1.1.1
4:45. The spectator area was now standing room only, as was the overflow room. Everyone was painted, costumed and ready to go. Peach sat in Mario's seat, with Rosalina beside her. Both ladies were clad in green dresses and had their hair in a fancy up-do, makeup neatly applied. Their section was crammed with Toads and reformed Koopa Troopas and Shy Guys who'd made the trip to see their favorite Bros in action.
Peach was the first to see the Warp Pipe. There was a lull in the crowd as Mario enthusiastically hopped out and struck a pose. "Here we go!" He sang out as everyone in the stands cheered.
Peach blew him a kiss. "I love you, Mario!"
"You, too, Peachy!" The little man felt his blood coursing through his veins. After sparring with an imaginary foe, he'd showered, changed into his iconic red-and-blue getup and hurried over to the stage. On his way, he'd spotted Luigi, relaxing with his eyes closed, earbuds in. He'd paused and watched him, studying the rise and fall of his chest and the smile on his lips before continuing along. It was good that Luigi was resting, because Mario was going to push him and push him like never before!
The stage picked for them was Mario Galaxy, mystical and familiar. It was only fair that both Bros had home field advantage. Bright stars twinkled all around, occasional Star Bits gently drifting downward. Mario drank in the serenity, finding that it helped him focus.
His eye fell on a family of four, all decked out in Mario apparel. The father wore the shirt, overalls, cap, gloves and a fake moustache. The mother wore a more feminine-looking Mario costume, which resembled a dress, and her face was dolled up. The son was also clad in a Mario costume, sans the fake moustache. Sitting on his lap was the daughter, wearing a blouse and a jumper along with a Mario cap, face smeared with ice-cream. All four broke into matching smiles and waved down to the plumber. He waved back, relishing in the attention. He'd lost track on how many families were playing his games, how many families looked up to him. He remembered how, back in the 90s, he'd put his face on countless products and toys, and everyone mobbed the stores to get their little slice of Super Mario. Everyone loved him, and standing here, he was reminded of that love. Heck, Nintendo was the first princess he rescued. No wonder he was so beloved.
Mario beamed at the masses of spectators cheering and shouting to him. "It's-a me, Mario!" Everyone loved it when he said that; it was one of his catch-phrases. He was as iconic as iconic could get, down to his red ball-cap and bushy moustache. Waving to the crowd, he called to them, "Thank you so much! Wah-hoo!"
"Mario's number one!" The crowd chanted. Mario blushed. They were right. He was number one. He'd always be number one. He...
His thoughts screeched to a halt when he saw Falco, seated next to the family of four. The avian grinned an easy grin and waved at Mario as if they were good friends and everything was fine between them. Mario knew that Falco would do this, and it only served to stoke his anger. But not a hint of it showed on his face. He returned Falco's easy grin with a courteous smile, a smile which caused unease to well up in Falco's stomach. Quickly, he shoved it aside. He wanted to enjoy this afternoon.
There was another hush, and Mario turned to see a second Warp Pipe across from him. He grinned broadly as Luigi leaped out to cheers from his fans. The Bros' eyes met; Luigi's eyes flashed at his big bro. Despite everything, the majority of the spectators assembled were still on Mario's side. The difference wasn't as big as it used to be, but it was still there. Mario still held the bigger slice of the pie.
His previous bouts had been relatively easy and spaced out. MH had given him a hefty break between his last fight and this one. Luigi had used the break wisely, engaging in a vigorous workout. He'd spent 90 minutes pounding at a Sandbag before switching to an arguably better release—dancing. Dancing had helped him deal with his aggression long before these tournaments. He'd locked himself in his room, stripped off his shirt, cranked up some upbeat tunes and just—danced. He danced to 80s hits, 90s hits, salsa, oldies, hip-hop, Y2K hits, danced till the sweat flew off his body and spattered the walls, at which point he danced some more. He danced away the nervous energy and the trepidation and the memory of Falco and what he said to him and even of Chad's actions. He rolled his shoulders and wound his hips and rocked and swayed his body, and it felt great. It got his blood circulating and his muscles prepped for the throw-down to come. In between dancing, he did some stretches and aerobics, but most of the time, he danced and sweated, eyes closed, enjoying the release. About 2 hours before the bout, he'd turned off his music, went outside and parked himself on a bench. He'd warmed up his body, and now he had to warm up his mind. He'd put on some relaxing music, closed his eyes and begun to psych himself up.
At around 4:35, he'd sensed his big bro's presence. Sensed him pausing and looking him over. He was such a good brother, but he needed to remember that Luigi was more than just a sidekick. He could fight as well as any Player One. Luigi knew all of Mario's tricks and tickets to victory, knew that he'd have the audience wrapped around his finger. He knew that they all expected him to be back in the shadows now that his year was over. But they were all wrong.
Clenching his fists, he'd cleared his mind of that clutter. Fighting Mario meant keeping a level head, especially if you were his younger sibling—and his semi-clone, no less. He knew all of Luigi's moves and exactly how to counter them. He knew his weaknesses and would exploit them to the point of hair-snatching frustration. He knew...
He knew of his combos.
Luigi slowly blew out a breath and opened his eyes, feeling the bench under him and his feet on the floor. He felt refreshed, focused, ready. After a quick glance at his watch, the man in green jumped into an invigorating shower and dressed in his green and blue ensemble before heading off to the designated stage.
Now, the two men stood on opposite sides of Mario Galaxy, exchanging an intense, charged gaze. They were brothers, part of each other, but they'd still give it their all this afternoon. Mario was so anticipated that he bit his lip, drawing a little blood. Sure, his lil' bro had his year, but it was over now, and he was still Super Mario. He forced the thought aside as quickly as it popped in, but Luigi saw it nonetheless. Saw the challenge in Mario's eyes and saw the slight smear of blood where he'd bitten his lip too hard. He remembered the heart-to-heart outside of MH's office and Mario's reassurances, but he also knew that the elder brother had racked up some heavy losses lately. If he lost, how would he react? If he won, how would he react? He looked really determined to win.
Then he has a long fight, he thought as he slowed his breathing and fixed Mario with a singular, steely, set gaze. He knew what he'd try to do with his cape, F.L.U.D.D and especially his f-air and up-tilt. Handy moves sure to drive him up the wall, but he couldn't think about that now. Only about what he needed to do and how he could counter. Sure, Mario was number one and the Year of Luigi had been over for two years, but Luigi could still be super.
Mario saw Luigi's eyes flash a second time. Oh, it was on. It was on. Those combos of his—they were nothing that a well-timed "dunk" couldn't solve. He knew his way around Luigi's combos; he'd stop them cold! Then he remembered that this was the exact attitude Luigi was worried about. Combos or no combos, Luigi was his brother, and he loved him. But both couldn't win this fight, and the elder was in desperate need of a victory.
The bros approached center stage, shook hands, and then pulled each other in for a tender brotherly hug. The contact elicited a deep, shuddering sigh from them both, putting hidden fears, worries and doubts to rest, at least for a while. Audience members murmured among themselves as they saw Mario whisper something into Luigi's ear, making him relax and sink deeper into the embrace.
"Awww...that is so sweet!" Anna exclaimed.
"Yeah," added Ethan. "They really do love each other."
"We'll see how long that lasts once those combos start," grumbled Falco.
Murmurs of agreement.
"Come, now. Luigi's a really great guy," said the father, Theo. "But his combos are a bit much, don't you think?"
"Totally!" Ethan piped up. "I can never win against a Luigi player!"
"Practice makes perfect, Ethan," sighed the mother, Vanessa. Falco knew they'd had this conversation many times before.
"Maybe you should try playing as Luigi," said Anna. "I'm sure you'll start beating your friends then!"
Ethan grumbled.
"Why would I want to play as him? He makes me sick!"
"Ethan Richard! That's not a nice thing to say!" Vanessa admonished.
"Yeah, sport," Theo chimed in. "When I was your age, a friend of mine used to beat me at dodgeball, but I never gave up."
When Theo and Vanessa's backs were turned, Falco leaned in toward Ethan. This was his chance to pounce. "You hate that green plumber?" He asked quietly.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Luigi. You hate his guts, don't you?"
"I dunno. I don't like him. His combos are getting on my nerves."
"C'mon, Ethan, I see it in you." The avian went in for the kill.
"Yeah, I hate him! I hate his guts!" Ethan hissed through clenched jaws.
Score! Thought Falco. "But what about those combos? Is there anything you hate more than those combos?"
Ethan shook his head. "No way!"
"Mr. Lombardi, we are not encouraging this!" Vanessa said sternly, having caught the tail-end of the conversation.
"I'm not encouraging! I'm just asking how much..."
He nearly jumped at the sound of cheers and whirled back toward the stage. The bros had separated and were once again standing face-to-face at opposite ends, shoulders back, fists up. Trying to anticipate what the other would do when the match began.
"Go get him, M!" Cheered Ethan.
"Yeah! Go, Mario!" Falco hollered.
The countdown started.
"3...2...1...GO!"
1.1.1
Mario knew that the first thing Luigi would try to do was to set up for a grab. But he also knew of his bad approach. So, instead of beginning aggressively like with other opponents, he started off this match by throwing fireballs, camping his bro out and keeping him spaced. If Luigi closed in, then Mario was pretty much toast, and he didn't want that. The man in red proceeded to launch fireball after fireball, studying Luigi for a reaction.
Calmly, Luigi launched his own fireballs, the globules of red and green bouncing and trailing back and forth like a Christmas show. They exchanged fireballs from both ground and air, the balls sometimes hitting each other and cancelling each other out and other times hitting their target. Luigi was able to dodge most of them, but Mario had his Cape to deflect the green ones back to their sender.
"C'mon, Mario," exhorted Ethan. "Let's go!"
However difficult it was, Luigi wouldn't stop figuring out ways to approach. If he could somehow trick his big bro into dropping his guard—if he could somehow stop the barrage of fireballs—then he was in. He danced left, then right, then back again, making him a difficult projectile target. Mario advanced slightly to get a better aim. But suddenly, Luigi aggressively dashed forward. Caught off guard, Mario panicked and shielded.
Big mistake.
His fans also knew, for when they saw him put up his shield, they all shouted, "No, no, no!" Seconds later, the man in red was in his baby bro's strong grip.
Dio! I played right into his hands, Mario thought.
Luigi butt-slammed him and fired off a string of f-airs, but the combo was short, as Mario knew those combos to a T, and by extension, how to escape them. He evaded a f-air strike and then swung his Cape into Luigi, briefly disorienting him. He then followed up with his own f-air, smashing the younger bro back to the ground.
Ethan and Falco cheered. Anna looked worried. Theo and Vanessa exchanged glances.
"Works every time," Peach mused to Rosalina, who nodded.
Slightly dazed, Luigi stood and raised his fists. Fighting Mario had always been tough. A spray of frigid water suddenly hit him in the face, pushing him toward the edge of the stage. He lost his balance and found himself clinging to the ledge. Mario smiled in satisfaction as he holstered F.L.U.D.D. and ran forward.
Luigi flipped himself off the ledge, delivering a double-footed kick to Mario's face. The elder brother kicked hard from the ground as he got up, grabbing Luigi as he tried to reorient himself. His diehard fans knew what was about to happen, and so did Luigi.
Mario counted the up-tilts silently after slamming Luigi down, but his fans counted them out loud. They loved it when he did his chaining up-tilts; it was one of his favorite combos. If he was lucky, he'd next u-air his opponents into the sky—but Luigi knew Mario as well as Mario knew Luigi. His golden n-air stopped the barrage of u-tilts cold before he swept Mario into a Cyclone. The man in red was flung into the air, the man in green giving pursuit with a few b-airs and then spiking him with a d-air. Mario crashed onto the stage, but then hopped back up and threw some more fireballs. Luigi ducked or dodged them all. He was going to get back in, whether his bro liked it or not. But Mario also knew that he could punish Luigi better and harder if he got him offstage. A back throw, perhaps...
He didn't notice the Missile headed toward him till it was too late. It plowed hard into his body, sending him soaring. As he tried to recover with his Cape, Luigi kept him busy with his fireballs. But the man in red hopped back onto the stage and sent a powerful blast of fire square into the younger bro's chest. Luigi recovered quickly, executed a quick, short-hop f-air and then delivered a powerful body shot which doubled Mario over.
And then he grabbed.
One of his grab set-ups, thought Mario. I should've known.
Both sides watched in fascinated semi-silence as Luigi slammed Mario down once again for another try at a combo. And he'd learned the first time, throwing out that Golden Leg whenever Mario tried to escape or counterattack. Many Mario fans, Ethan included, were practically screaming at the red-capped hero, screaming for him to DO SOMETHING!
But what could he do when Luigi could read him from a mile away?
"Aw, J—s," Peach heard someone grumble next to her.
"Give me a f—ing break," chimed in another.
Peach and Rosa both glared at the two but said nothing. They turned back to face the action as they heard the familiar sound of brisk breathing. Luigi's face was beginning to flush, his mouth rounded, as he continued to style this combo on his big bro. A slight feeling of catharsis washed over him. People said that Mario held the advantage but let them see this!
After a Cyclone, Mario finally got his wits about him and managed to get a b-air in. He fast-fell and began charging up F.L.U.D.D. By the looks of things, his baby bro needed a little cooling off. But before he could finish charging, he was surprised by Luigi's "sissy-fists". He then tried to get in another grab, but Jumpman would have none of it. He threw out a spinning kick and then knocked a handful of coins from him with his own jumping uppercut. But then Luigi took advantage of Mario's freefalling state to spike him with another d-air, followed by a n-air and a f-air string and another n-air and then an up-B. But he missed the sweet-spot, d—mit!
Ethan and Falco chuckled.
"What are you waiting for?" Theo shouted down to Mario. "Punish him!"
Mario flicked his Cape at Luigi a few times as he tried to run in, and then grabbed him and slammed him down for another u-tilt combo. Luigi hit him with a n-air, but Mario grabbed him and started again. He read the next n-air, dodged and then bicycle-kicked him three times before finishing with another up-B, taking his stock.
Everyone gasped. Usually, Luigi was the first to take someone's stock! Then, Mario's fans were on their feet, going crazy, while Luigi's fans politely applauded. The red-clad plumber took off his cap with a flourish and spun around, one hand on his hip. Yup, he was still number one.
He smiled at Luigi as he respawned, studying his face. The man in green took several deep breaths, willing the frustration away. This match was starting off badly for him.
The bros circled each other for a few moments. Then, before Mario could launch a single fireball, Luigi acted aggressively, quickly lunging forward and grabbing him! Mario found himself the recipient of a fierce combo. He saw everything in Luigi's eyes and knew that the stock loss had thrown him for a loop. But he was handling it quite well in comparison to—others.
Mamma mia! Why was he thinking about that bird?! Stay focused. Stay focused!
Concentrating the sudden burst of anger on the task at hand, Mario broke free of his brother's combo and executed an aerial spin attack. It used to be his down special before F.L.U.D.D. came into the picture, but that's off-topic. The attack left Luigi slightly dazed, so Mario grabbed him, threw him up, flip-kicked him repeatedly and then knocked some more coins from him. Luigi got up and endeavored to put some distance between him and Mario, but the little man came after him with b-airs and n-airs. He grabbed him and hurled him skyward again, mashed him with another tornado and threw his trademark Plunger move, but the hit was late, so he didn't get the sweet-spot! Now, he was wide open, and...
...Luigi came back with a vengeance, sailing into Mario with a misfired Missile, grasping him and flinging him forward, pursuing him with short-hop f-airs and u-airs until he felt confident enough to go for another combo! Luigi's fans were fired up by now, waving their signs, jumping up high and shouting at the tops of their voices. Rosa and Peach just sat there in the front row, watching the Bros square off and smiling. How could they take sides when they loved them both the same?
Mario's fans, by contrast, were shouting desperately, Ethan on the verge of a total breakdown! Theo and Vanessa tried to console him, telling him that Mario losing wouldn't be the end of the world, but Luigi couldn't beat him! He couldn't! How could Player Two beat Player One? That was unthinkable! Anna really didn't care. She just wanted to see both Mario Bros on the battlefield together! She loved how their fighting styles were similar yet different. She loved seeing Mario escaping from Luigi's combos and vice versa! Whoever won this bout didn't matter to her.
Falco didn't need further convincing about what needed to be done about those combos. If Mario, the perfect all-around fighter, could fall victim to them, then Smash was essentially cooked unless someone took action! He slumped and face-winged as Luigi anticipated Mario's efforts to lash back and threw out flying kicks to extend his combos. This was absolutely outrageous. The younger bro was laying the elder out to dry! Shouldn't it be the other way around? But then again, Mario worn out after a brotherly battle would mean that Falco would be safe from his withering glares—for a while, at least.
Applause sounded as Luigi finished a combo with a Cyclone, Mario shooting off fireballs from the air to prevent him from following up further. He tried to recover to an upper platform, but Luigi was ready for him with a flip-kick. Mario tried again and again, only to be met with up tilts and up smashes. Eventually, he solved that problem with a fast-falling d-air. It pushed Luigi back, but not far enough. He could easily dash back in and go for a grab, but Mario deflected the attempt with the Cape. Instantly after, he darted in with some hard-hitting shots to his baby bro's midsection. Luigi's eyes glazed over for a few seconds, but then he dropped down for a breakdance sweep, kicking Mario off his feet. He rolled back to a standing position—and right into Luigi's grab.
Oh, come on! Mario thought to himself.
Luigi took a big, deep breath and chained off a fresh combo, his heart going off like a telegraph. Sweat flew off him in sprinkles which stood out against the starry background of Mario Galaxy. His breathing was brisk and hard, but steady. He knew that Mario would give him a challenge; he was someone he couldn't keep in a combo for long. During the bout, he studied his elder brother, watching for a reaction, a flicker of frustration, a pinch of saltiness, a glimmer of gloating over having a one-stock lead. So far, nothing significant. But maybe he was a good pretender. Maybe on the inside, he was chuckling over that stock or boiling over the possibility of losing that advantage...
Swiftly, he came back to the present, catching Mario with a down-air and then a n-air and u-air and stringing some more f-airs together like a beaded necklace, feeling a sharp emotion bubbling beneath his sweaty skin. There were so many things about Mario which irked Luigi, so many things which annoyed him and so many things which outright angered him, things he could easily calm, command and control, things easily overwhelmed by his deep, superhuman love. So many things—but then Mario would smile at him and wrap him up in a hug, and it wouldn't matter anymore. He both loved Mario and envied him—there was a lot of stuff he had to let out, and in the heat of battle, he did just that. They'd talked about it that day in front of MH's office, but Luigi couldn't help but think about that Power Tennis tournament again. The feel of Mario's shoe atop his foot, the expression on his face—and now flash-forward over a decade and the secret worries of how his combo game was affecting their relationship and Mario's views of him, since Falco nastily pointed out that "a lot of Smashers" were tiring of enduring them. He could feel and hear his breaths turn angry as the memory of that blow-up came into focus, mixed with the memory of Mario claiming that he was proud of him and grinning in his face before stepping on his foot, mixed with the fact that more people were currently cheering for Mario than for him...
He licked his lips before winding up and sending a forward smash into Mario, knocking him offstage. Then, he balanced himself on the ledge, watching him trying to recover, waited for Mario to reach the right altitude, and...
A simple, shy dirt kick sent the man in red plummeting straight down, bringing the bros to a tie. Luigi felt considerably better after that.
He flashed a peace sign at the audience, and then Mario respawned looking—shaken. That down taunt was one of Luigi's favorites, and it had humiliated many Smashers. The little man breathed deeply and charged up F.L.U.D.D. before striding toward Luigi.
There was something else about his baby bro that he could exploit. His traction. His horrible traction. This flaw had existed since the good old days in 1999, and it always made Luigi want to tear his hair out. People used to laugh at him over how he tended to slip and slide, but he ignored them. Not that it made his traction any better.
But Mario reasoned that maybe he'd have a chance if he could get Luigi to slip and slide. He didn't want anybody laughing at him for it; he just wanted an advantage. The red-capped hero proceeded to throw fireballs and feint back-airs, once again trying to camp him out until he could get him offstage. Maybe he could bait him into executing some laggy, easily punishable move.
"Go, go, Mario!" He heard his fans chant. A warm, tingling feeling passed over him when he heard those voices. They made everything all right. He focused back on Luigi and feinted some more, tricking him into advancing before spraying him with F.L.U.D.D. The younger bro shook the water out of his eyes and leaped back up, feeling pumped. Fluidly, he danced about the stage, searching for a way in.
His rhythm was cut off as Mario executed a slide tackle, knocking him diagonally upward. Mario followed him and tried to spike with his Plunger move, but Luigi air-dodged and fast-fell to safety. He let fly a handful of fireballs before throwing an awesome cross-punch to the jaw. Mario answered back with a one-two punch, and then they were at it! Fans of both fighters leapt to their feet, clapping and chanting, as the duo exchanged heavy blows, seeking an opening. Repeatedly, Luigi tried to get an aerial attack in, but Mario always knocked him back down. And Mario kept trying to pull of another u-tilt combo, but Luigi wouldn't let him. The punches and kicks flew, both staying close and deflecting grab attempts with a simple flick of their wrists. The entire stage was currently charged with energy and emotions as the fighters shut out the cheers around them and centered their focus on the man in front of them. There was so much tension that it was practically difficult to breathe.
"Hey, ho! Let's-a go!" Mario's fans chanted, calling to mind a familiar song which played during numerous sporting events. The chant spread from one end of the spectator area to another, getting everyone further pumped with each repetition. Signs and flags waved wildly. Pom-poms swished as pep squads arrived on the scene. Those with body paint tested the limits of their vocal chords. And numerous ladies began flashing both brothers. Peach always bit her lip when they did that.
"Look at them go!" Anna trilled, bouncing in her seat.
"This is totally wicked!" Another called out.
"I feel so good!" Laughed yet another. "I feel so good!"
Amidst the chanting, Rosa and Peach shared an order of Super Nachos, occasionally leaning over to score a better look at the action. The two women were reminded of how much the Bros were in synch. They knew the others' little secrets, the moves they relied on the most, and tried to keep the other from using them. It was hard for one of them to hold the advantage for long. Spectating the other's matches and sparring together had paid off, indeed.
Like Anna, the two Princesses keenly spotted subtle differences between the two. Mario, the quick-to-action one, was all about raw power and hitting hard. His to-the-point fighting style made him perfect for novice Smash players because his mysteries were easy to unravel. He bobbed and weaved like a professional boxer, expelling his breaths in terse puffs, face reddened and sweaty, his eyes two hardened sapphires. Then, there was Luigi, the cautious one, the one less likely to charge blindly into a fight. While his elder bro's focus was primarily on simply pounding away, Luigi's attacks were more controlled. He was less about getting in people's faces and more about baiting, tricking, reading and precision. His combos were so good because they were painstakingly woven together like a knitted sweater and easily tailored to his opponents' movements and reactions. Part of his fighting style involved adapting to the situation at any given moment. His angular face was intense, focused and fierce, his body rolling with his bro's punches.
"He's amazing," gasped a woman behind Rosalina.
The cosmic goddess glanced curiously at her. "Which one?" She asked.
"Luigi," said the woman. "He's really good!"
"You're right," said Rosa, watching Luigi sturdily block oncoming blows before landing some impressive hits of his own. "He is."
Unfortunately, Mario was wise to many of Luigi's grab set-ups, which rendered them moot. He blocked jabs, knocked Luigi out of the air and did his best to leap out of the way of his poor grabbing range whenever the man in green reached out. He sent him slipping and stumbling a few times, but was shocked when Luigi managed to recover his balance relatively quickly. On the few grabs that were successful, Mario managed to break free before being thrown, and then double him over with a powerful gut punch and kick him away. And then Luigi would answer back with a get-up attack and a few fireballs to try and space them out, with varying degrees of success. Then, he'd try new ways to grab, and Mario would find ways to punish them, and around and around they went. The match had become deadlocked, the bros' knowledge of the others' strengths and weaknesses practically neutralizing the others' strategy. The elder continuously keeping the younger on the ground, the younger keeping the elder from pulling out F.L.U.D.D., both bros quickly escaping grabs and stopping combos in their tracks. Their fans wouldn't stop screaming down to them, pushing them on. Falco and Ethan prayed that Mario would eventually gain the advantage. However, the bros were still figuring each other out. It was never too late to learn new things about the other.
Red clashed with green against the ethereal ambiance of Mario Galaxy, and everyone ate it up. They chanted "Hey, ho, let's-a go!", along with "An-di-a-mo!", to the same cadence. Anna happily clapped and laughed while Ethan practically shrieked exhortations at Mario, Theo hooted, and Vanessa shouted things like "You got this, Mario!" People streamed live on their Android phones and gushed to out-of-town friends and loved ones. And Peach and Rosa just chilled in their seats, wearing matching smiles smeared with nacho cheese, patiently waiting for the stalemate to be broken.
And then it was, in Luigi's favor. He tripped Mario with his low kick, threw two quick fireballs, and then had him in a down throw combo before he even knew what was happening. Luigi's fans laughed joyfully while Mario's fans sat there, slack-jawed. The entire area seemed to let out one big breath as the match got going again. Even Luigi looked relieved that he regained a foothold in this tiring bout.
He ended his combo with a Fire Jump Punch, and Mario's second stock was toast, with only one left. Those rooting for him mumbled in discontent. When he respawned, Mario kept his gaze downward so Luigi wouldn't see the frazzled look on his face. He waited until he felt a little better before raising his eyes to meet a similar pair. Casually, Luigi flicked some sweat away from his forehead and breathed, slowly and softly, as he studied his big bro's face. Mario was trying to fight it, but Luigi knew he was getting frustrated. He'd always know; he was part of him. The man in red felt a bolt of guilt as he saw the emotions, thoughts and worries playing about Luigi's face, especially with the sparkling eyes and rounded mouth. He had to stay in control. He had nobody to blame for this disadvantage but himself.
"Come on," he whispered to his lil' bro. "Come on, Luigi."
The lightning came to Luigi's eyes, and his face hardened slightly. The sounds of their breaths floated across Mario Galaxy and the stands encompassing it. They sized each other up, waiting.
Mario was the first to react, propelling his fist toward his opponent. Crisply, Luigi sidestepped and kicked back, sharply, and slammed Mario with an overhead punch. Mario threw out his own flying kick on the way down, followed by a string of b-airs, trying to force Luigi offstage so he could get at least one dunk in. But Luigi's Golden Leg put a halt to that plan.
The man in green pushed back with a barrage of f-airs and then an aerial Cyclone. Mario teched his landing, traced the arc of Luigi's descent and executed a short hop, tricking his baby bro into executing a down air. Before he knew it, Mario's f-air sizzled into him, the ground once again rushing up to give him a big, sloppy kiss.
"FORWARD AERIAL!" Mario's fans boomed.
Mario followed up with his flare kick as Luigi tried to get up, and then started again with the b-airs. Luigi tried to air-dodge and fast-fall, but Mario was ready for him with a u-air or a n-air. This time, he had Luigi toppling through space, and then—dunk!
"FORWARD AERIAL!" His fans shouted again.
Mario again swept off his cap and flourished, satisfied with evening the score. Then, he charged up F.L.U.D.D., watching as Luigi respawned.
"You just got dunked, bro!" Someone from the audience whooped.
Mario gave Luigi an apologetic look, which was returned with a smile. Then, both their faces went to ice. They were down to one stock.
This was now or never.
They stared each other down, each trying to figure out what the other had up his sleeve. Mario advanced first, but Luigi was ready with a forward smash. Mario recovered swiftly, snatched Luigi as he leaped toward him and slammed him down for an up-tilt combo, finishing by knocking some more coins from him. Luigi backflipped away and fought defensively with fireballs, jabs, kicks and quick chops. Everyone watched him flit about the stage, illuminated by starlight. The way he dipped, feinted, danced, backflipped and cartwheeled looked so smooth. Mario met that defensive strategy with an aggressive strategy, and Luigi took a lot of punches from the man in red. Yet he still got up, reminding himself that timing and patience were key.
"What's your play, L?" Rosa muttered.
"I think he's trying to tire Mario out," offered Peach.
"Mario, tired? That'll be the day," chuckled Rosa, and the Princesses shared a laugh.
However hard they were, Mario's punches weren't wearing Luigi down, which was bad news for the former. The last thing he wanted was another loss under his belt! But Luigi was striking back, harder, faster, trying to get that grab and that combo. The red-clad one flicked his Cape out, sprayed with F.L.U.D.D., hurled fireballs and tried to stay fast and close. But Luigi had that calm and methodical air about him, the air of one sighting the finish line in the distance and knowing that he couldn't quit now. He pulled out all the stops and gave it everything he had left. Mario's composure had begun to crack, and he started making slight mistakes, mistakes which Luigi wasted no time in punishing. The battle between bros had begun to reach its boiling point, with Mario's forceful, bruiser style winning one moment, and Luigi's cautious, precise and tactical approach taking over the next.
"C'mon, Luigi!" Chad shouted. "We believe in you!"
"Yeah!" Ness added. "You're the best!"
"You're the best! You're the best!" Everyone else chanted as Luigi pushed past the pain and fatigue, doing everything in his power to get that final combo in. But the combos he did manage were hopelessly short, and Mario was just as determined to get in one last combo, maybe even another dunk. Luigi, after all, was someone notoriously hard to dunk. Imagine dunking his lil' bro twice and restoring his good win-loss record! That would kill two birds with one stone. Birds, ha-ha. Very f—ing funny.
Speaking of birds, Falco had a reassuring wing over Ethan's hand, both hardly daring to breathe. This was going to be a close one. The avian repeatedly reassured the kid that Mario would pull through, yet he found himself doubting his own words. Not that he really wanted Mario to win, either—it was simply the lesser of two evils to him. Mario would be too distracted by the joy of his victory to silently hate Falco for what he said to Luigi. He'd enjoy at least one night of sleeping soundly—well, Mario wasn't someone to try and do something to the avian while he slept, but there were the nightmares. Like he told his fellow conspirators the other night, no matter how far he ran or how cleverly he concealed himself, he couldn't escape from Jumpman's eyes.
Anna simply chortled as the advantage continued to see-saw between the brothers. Falco sneaked an envious glance at her. She was so young, so innocent. Falco missed those days when there were no combos, no falling-outs and no responsibilities to fret over. But perhaps tonight, he'd help her see...
Vanessa had her head bowed, murmuring a silent prayer, as Theo rubbed her back comfortingly. This wasn't lost on Falco. He saw a lot of potential in this family.
As the stakes increased, so did the exchange of blistering combos between the bros. But the spectators couldn't help but notice the difference between them. They couldn't really see them when the bros were battling someone else, but pitted against each other, it was clearer than a summer day. Mario's combos were—limited. Plain. Bland-ish. He kind of lacked the setups needed to extend them. The up-tilts and the dunk finisher were fun, but they got stale after a while, so stale that many other opponents could quickly weasel their way out of them. Maybe that was why Mario's win-loss record was suffering. Even Peach and Rosa couldn't help but see those combos as merely variations of beige. But Luigi's combos—they were so vibrant, like a rainbow playing out across the stage. They were so satisfying—they literally caused ASMR in some spectators, that tingling feeling down the back of the neck and along the spine. Of course, the cadences his respirations took on, his facial expressions, the sight of sweat trickling down and flying off of him and his overall athleticism were contributing factors. Luigi's combos set off many racing and fluttering hearts. There was a smorgasbord of setups and options to pick and choose from, and best of all, they weren't randomized. If Mario pulled his combos out of some grab bag and crossed his fingers for a good result, then Luigi ensured that his combos were the perfect fit for each fighter. Luigi's combos were fab; Mario's were drab. No offense to the latter.
"He's gonna do it, you guys!" Squealed a spectator a few seats from Peach. "L's gonna do it!" She was painted green from the waist up, dressed merely in black leggings and a green sports bra.
"Don't be so sure," her friend playfully shot back. She also wore black pants and a sports bra, but the bra was red, matching the paint on her skin. "I know Mario. He'll find a way!"
Between the ladies stood another woman, painted in white and wearing a white sports bra and black pants. An arm was around the waist of her two friends. Peach and Rosalina studied the three.
"That's an interesting look you have," said Rosa.
"Thanks," said the woman in white. "The one in green's rooting for Luigi, and the one in red's rooting for Mario. I'm acting as the buffer."
"Uh-huh. And the fact that the Italian Flag has the same design has nothing to do with this, am I right?" Asked Peach.
"No," the three said in unison.
"Something tells me that Luigi's going to win this one," mused Rosa.
"How so?" Peach asked her.
"I don't know. I just feel it."
"A lot of people won't be happy about that," grumbled Peach.
"What's the big deal, anyway?" Rosa huffed.
"I think it's—his combos. I know it's the combos," said Peach.
"So what if Luigi has combos? We all have combos!" Rosa snapped. "You have combos, DK and Diddy have combos, even Koopa—if he'd concentrate less on intimidating people! Everyone in Smash has combos—why is Luigi's such a fuss?"
"I get you," said Peach.
"I mean, I get flak over my u-air KO-ing at 60% or whatever, but not as badly as Luigi over his combos."
"Maybe it's because—because..." Peach couldn't bear to say it.
"I know," sighed Rosa.
"Did you hear about what Falco said to him?" Peach asked suddenly.
Rosa nodded. "Is he doing okay?"
"He's getting by. Falco's spieling about how sorry he is, but..."
"It's not selling?"
"Not with me, and especially not with Mario."
Rosa clenched her fists. "Just give me fifteen minutes in a room with him," she hissed.
"Something in Luigi's eyes tells me that he wants to take Falco back," said Peach, "but I know he doesn't want to. And I feel that he shouldn't. If someone who claims to be your friend lashes out at you over having something they don't, then that's not a true friend."
"Luigi invited him over one night," intoned Rosa. "I overheard them talking about it. Luigi sounded very upset and stressed, like he was trying not to cry. That bird really hurt him."
"I know."
"There was one thing in particular that Falco said, that other Smashers were fed up with his combos, and it made him think about Mario." She tilted her head towards the stage, where Mario had briefly wrested the upper hand from his bro. "What if he was secretly resentful of his younger brother having the better combo options? Which explains—a lot." Both women had felt Luigi's pulsing emotions, traveling outwards like heatwaves or shockwaves. "He—Luigi—spoke for a very long time. I mean, he was really saying his piece. And then—he asked Falco why. Why he said those wicked things to him."
"And what did Falco say?"
Rosa scoffed. "More about how sorry he was. That he'd never act like that again. I could feel the frustration in Luigi's voice as he asked that bird to leave. Then, I heard his music and his breathing, and I knew that he was dancing it off. And Luigi hasn't spoken to Falco since."
"He needs to move on," Peach said quietly.
"Agreed."
They fell silent as they watched Luigi slowly but surely take the lead back. At this point, Falco, Ethan, and the rest of the die-hard Mario fans knew. It was over.
Mario knew, too, but he wasn't someone who lost quietly. He threw Smash attacks, fought defensively, and rallied when he could, but at this point, he was simply delaying the inevitable. And at long glorious last, it finally happened. Luigi grabbed Mario, flashed him a quick, remorseful smile, and then spun him three times before flinging him into the blast zone.
"GAME!"
Anna hopped up and down, cheering, while Vanessa and Theo smiled graciously and clapped. Falco and Ethan, however, sat in slack-jawed disbelief. The rest of the Mario fans reacted with varying degrees of displeasure and graciousness.
"This game's winner is—Luigi!"
1.1.1
Both sides were in surprisingly good spirits when Luigi's victory was announced. Afterwards, Mario rushed over and practically jumped into Luigi's arms in a show of good sportsmanship. Seeing them hug elicited another big sigh of relief from the crowd. All was well; the Mario Bros still loved each other.
Falco shook his head and slunk away unseen. Ethan managed to force a smile, so as not to make his parents and sister suspicious.
Meanwhile, the avian met up with Vince, Manny and Shane outside, where the other conspirators and a decent-sized contingent of Mario fans had congregated.
"We did it," said Falco, beaming.
"Yes, we did," said Vince.
"What do you have for us?" Manny wanted to know.
"I think I've snared a family," reported Falco, "especially the son. I'll see if they can bring them over tonight."
"And will you have an answer to our question?" Shane asked.
"I'll have made a final decision by then," Falco stated confidently.
"Good," nodded Vince. "We're proud of you. Keep up the good work."
1.1.1
Mario strode briskly down the corridor, jaw clenched, looking straight ahead. Slung over his shoulder was a bag containing a towel, shampoo, conditioner, shower gel, a sponge a comb, a brush and a change of clothes. Ignoring the gazes of people around him, he continued towards his destination, trying not to think about the display some of his fans had put on after the match. They acted like he failed them by losing, that he should be ashamed of himself! What was their deal? Was it because he lost to Luigi? They sure didn't act like this when he lost to someone else!
He flung open the doors to the locker room and tossed his bag onto the first bench he saw. He pulled out his phone, opened his music library and selected one of his playlists. Then, he set the playlist on loop, turned up the volume full blast and hit "play". His sweaty clothes flew off like a whirlwind, and he grabbed his shampoo, conditioner, body wash and bath sponge before stepping into the shower and turning the water on.
As the water poured over him, Mario took several deep breaths, calming down. He had no reason to be angry. He just needed to practice! He couldn't stop himself from cursing under his breath in Italian, couldn't stop the hot, frustrated tears falling from his eyes. There went his win-loss record! What was everyone going to think of him now?!
He snatched up his sponge, wet it, squirted a perfect amount of shower gel onto it and got it good and soapy before getting himself good and soapy. He began humming along to one of the songs from his phone. The frustration of losing began to dull. It felt so good to jump into a shower after something like this. His shower gel smelled of lavender and vanilla, with a slight hint of mint. He inhaled deeply through his nose and exhaled through his mouth, immersing himself in the relaxing scents. Then, he rinsed it all off. The water swirling down that drain was so dirty and murky. He waited till the swirl was clear again before taking the shampoo, squirting it onto his palm and working it into his hair from root to tip. He applied some more shampoo and tackled his scalp, leaving a cool, tingling feeling. He made sure to get the bangs along the back of his neck. Finally, he tilted his head back and rinsed his locks. He stood there until the water was no longer soapy, and finally he straightened, turned off the water, stepped out of the shower and dried off.
He felt better already.
He wrapped the towel around his waist, stood before a mirror, squeezed on the leave-in conditioner and then combed out his hair. Once the tangles were combed away, he brushed it and then styled it in his usual way.
He headed back over to his spot and pulled on a clean pair of briefs. But as he was about to pull on his overalls, he heard footsteps.
"Hey," said a voice.
Mario turned. Luigi stood there with his own duffel bag, his hair in slight disarray.
"How'd you know I was here?" Mario wanted to know.
"I didn't, really. The first place I checked was..."
"Why would I be in Master Hand's office?" Mario asked innocently, though he already knew.
Luigi gave him a look. "After we hugged, I went to talk to some of my fans, and then I saw you—fuming a little."
"I wasn't—no—I wasn't..." Mario tried to reassure him.
"And you just—stormed off."
"I wasn't going to complain to MH. I needed to clear my head," explained Mario. "Some of my fans reamed me out for losing to you."
"Wow," said Luigi. He set down his duffel bag and sat next to Mario.
"You fought really well, by the way," added Mario.
"So did you." Luigi spoke without looking at him.
"Is—something wrong?"
Luigi's eyes flashed as they met his bro's. "I knew you were getting upset back there," he said evenly. "You were trying to hide it from me, but..."
"I wasn't upset at you."
"I know about your win-loss record, Mario. I know winning against me would've saved it."
"I'll eat well, rest and start again tomorrow," Mario said quietly.
"That wasn't what I was picking up when I saw you storm off somewhere."
"Like I said, I needed to cool off, so I went here. How long were you outside the office?"
"I knelt there, and I listened, but I didn't hear anything, so that's when I figured you might be in the showers. When I got there, I heard sniffling."
"Losing that match bummed me out, but I don't hold you responsible," said Mario.
"You were cursing, too."
"I wasn't cursing you."
Luigi blinked. "Then who were you cursing?"
"I—I don't know. But because I took a shower, I feel better."
Mario pulled on a shirt and then shimmied into another pair of coveralls. "You seem a little cross. Fighting me is exhausting, huh?"
"That was a sickening display the majority of your fans put on," murmured Luigi as he got ready for his own shower, kicking off his boots and pulling off his peppermint-stripe socks. "Some of them were nice, but..."
"I'll talk to them."
"I just—I—I go back to your behavior on that tennis court, and then..."
"I meant to broach that subject with you," Mario broke in. "Lil' Bro, you need to make your decision about him, because I sure as the Inferno made mine. Do you want to let him back in, or not?"
"I just want to know why he said what he said. I look at him and—it hurts. Honestly, Bro, what do you think I should do?"
"I can't tell you how to act regarding a friend, but my honest advice to you is—move on from him. A friend like that is only gonna bring you more heartache."
Luigi wriggled out of his overalls and peeled off his shirt. "I just wanted him to tell me why," he said, eyes dim with pain. "I asked him, and he wouldn't tell me! Why won't he just tell me?"
Mario, however, was distracted by his bro's current condition. Bruising couldn't begin to describe what he saw on his chest, abdomen and torso. It was—it was a splotchy mess of purple and black, and there was swelling, too. Probably from those punches, kicks and where the dunks had smashed him into the stage floor. Mario couldn't help but wince. He hated seeing Luigi hurt, just like Luigi hated seeing Mario injured. The younger presently had his head bowed, but Mario knew that there were facial injuries, as well.
"And nowadays, he just sulks in his seat with his booze, pretending to root for me by dressing up in green, but the look on his face—he glowers at me like I'm some sort of eyesore," Luigi went on. "That night in the restaurant, he said he was sorry, but I don't see his sorrow. I don't see his remorse." He raised his head, revealing a battered, tear-soaked face. "After I fought Koopa, and he was ranting to MH, Falco came up to me, and all I could think about was that he was the first to ever sling his contempt over my combos at me. And this was after Koopa taunted and mocked me before we fought. Two days after that, Falco walked in on me training, and I had that anger to let out, so we went a few rounds. I calmed down, and I thought I was ready to forgive Falco and renew our friendship. But that night, he showed up at my bedroom door with one of those tubs of ice cream. We ate it while making small talk and watching comedies. Then, I gave him a real talking-to about what he'd said to me. He didn't interrupt me at all; he just listened. It was going great until I asked him why he lashed out at me, what made him think it was okay. And..." He trailed off. "I got nothing! Just more on how sorry he was and that he'd never do so again! Does that remind you of anything?"
"Luigi—based on what you just told me—he's going to keep doing it. And if being near Falco is painful, then you shouldn't be near him at all. I think you should end your friendship with Falco, pronto. Because—what kind of friend does that?"
"A bad one."
"More like someone trying to be one," said Mario.
Luigi unzipped his duffel bag and extracted his shampoo, conditioner, body wash, body scrub, towel, hair spray, comb, brush and change of clothes. He whipped off his hat and smoothed his hair. "And then the part where he said—he said everyone else was feeling the same way. And it made me think about you and that afternoon on that tennis court and..."
"I don't feel like that at all. Don't let him get to you."
"That's easy to say, but so hard to do. I keep thinking about me and you, and you and me, and how you're viewed compared to how I'm viewed. They needed you to win, because you're the mascot and I'm just your wingman."
"Luigi, I..." Mario trailed off. His younger bro had a point there. "That didn't stop you from giving it all you had, and I'm proud of that."
"Are you? Or are you just acting that way so I won't see how upset you are?"
"I'm not upset that I lost to you. I'm upset that everyone's giving me grief over losing to you."
"Is that why you ground your shoe into my foot after that tennis tournament? Everyone hated you for losing to me, and so you used that as an excuse to have a laugh at my expense?"
"No!" Mario was horrified at the thought. "I don't—I don't know why I did that, all right? Maybe I was a little mad at you. I wish I can undo it, but I can't. And I know there's no excuse for it."
"That's right. There isn't."
Mario flushed. "Why are we talking about this? We should be celebrating your victory."
"That fight was intense. My blood's still pumping. Maybe I'll calm down after I get in the shower."
"Yeah," Mario said softly.
"Let me ask you something before I do that, though. If you'd lost to Peach, or to Koopa, or DK or Diddy or Toad or anyone else, would you have reacted the same way?"
"Well—I..." Stammered Mario before falling into defeated silence.
Luigi nodded. "I didn't think so," he stated calmly. "I'll see you later."
He patted Mario on the shoulder, grabbed his bathing supplies, stripped off his briefs and stepped into the shower. Methodically, Mario buttoned his overalls while listening to the running water and his brother sighing and moaning and humming and lathering. Finally, he slid on his cap, tossed his old clothes into the laundry chute, grabbed his duffel bag and walked out of the locker room.
Luigi was right. The shower helped cool his fire. Today, he lathered up four times, his motions delicate, aware of the bruises peppering his body. By the time he turned his attention to his hair, they hurt less. After another four washes, he rubbed in the conditioner, enjoying the cooling effect it had on his scalp. Finally, he turned the temperature to its coldest setting and let it flow over him, eyes closed, rolling his neck occasionally and breathing deeply.
He shut off the water, stepped out of the shower, dried himself and then combed and brushed his hair back into its normal shape. Then, he slipped into his new clothes, sent off his old clothes to be washed, grabbed up his stuff and left the locker room in exponentially better spirits.
1.1.1
Later that night, the conspirators of Project Nerf were gathered at the Bennigan estate.
"You have all worked very hard," said Vincent, with a beaming smile. "Thanks to you, you have netted in new supporters to our cause. As a reward, our chefs have prepared this magnificent feast of glazed ham, broccoli and cheese, sweet potato casserole, peach cobbler and vanilla bean ice cream, along with a salad bar and drinks all around!"
Everyone cheered.
"Dig in, everyone!" Manny laughed, and that's exactly what they did.
Once everyone was served, Shane spoke up. "I'd like our newcomers to introduce themselves, please."
"Hi," said Ethan. "My name is Ethan, and this is my sister Anna."
"Hello!" Anna chirped.
"I'm Theo, and this is my wife, Vanessa."
"I'm Darryl."
"My name is Harold."
"Marion."
"Marcus."
"Abby."
"Kay."
"Bianca."
"Michele."
The introductions went on. When they were finished, Vince smiled.
"Welcome to Project Nerf. Our mission is to even the competitive balance in the Smash tournaments by taming Luigi's combo game. Nightly, we hear speeches and presentations from our members, followed by a discussion of strategies and approaches. Our ultimate goal is to bring this plight to Master Hand's attention, so that he may inform Nintendo's higher-ups and initiate a process culminating in the application of a just nerf to Luigi."
"Why can't we just buff other fighters to give them a better chance against Luigi?" Marion asked.
"Those fighters are already strong. It's just Luigi and his combos needing toning down," explained Vince.
Marion blinked. "Oh."
"At this time, I'd like to invite our new members to speak about their experiences and why they decided to join us," said Manny.
Ethan jumped out of his seat yelling, "Pick me! Pick me!"
"All right, Ethan, can you tell us what brought you here today?"
Ethan beamed as he began:
"Hi, as I said before, my name is Ethan, and my family and I are from Oakland. I'm an avid Smash fan and have played Melee, Brawl and the current incarnation. I main Mario, but I can also play Marth very well. Speaking of which..." He turned to the Altean prince. "...it's an honor to finally meet you in person."
Marth blushed. "Thanks, Ethan."
"I loved you in Melee!" Ethan went on, "and the thing you do with the Tip is so awesome! I..."
"Ethan," Manny broke in, "speak first, fanboy later."
"Uh. Okay," said Ethan. "So, I play Smash a lot, mostly as Mario, but—I don't do well against Luigi players."
"Why not?" Vince asked.
"I get stuck in combos a lot, and I when I try to escape, they always catch me. Pit me against any other character, and I'll mop the ground with them, but against Luigi..." He dropped his head. "Once I came really close, but the opponent got the drop on me." His shoulders jiggled. "I'm the laughingstock of every Smash community I'm in, all because of Luigi! Everybody laughs at and makes fun of me, and it's all his fault!" He slammed the table with his fists, breathing heavily.
"Ethan Richard, calm down, or we are leaving," admonished Vanessa.
"I'm sorry," Ethan sullenly mumbled. "It's just that—I'm tired of always losing to Luigi players and then having them dump on me."
"Don't worry, Ethan," smiled Vince. "Stick with us, and you'll never lose to another Luigi player again."
Ethan grinned. "Cool!" He trilled.
Theo put a hand on Ethan's shoulder. "I'm his dad," he said, "and I'm here today, along with my lovely wife and two adorable children, because I bore witness to a total disgrace. That disgrace, of course, was Super Mario's defeat at the hands of his sidekick brother.
"My son and daughter love Mario. He makes him feel like they can achieve anything. I buy them the latest Mario games, take them to the Nintendo World store so they can talk to him, give them Mario dolls. I let them dress up like him and celebrate their birthdays with Mario-themed parties. Who are they supposed to look up to now?"
Grumbles.
"We have nothing personal against Luigi. We think Luigi's great. But he's greatest when he stays in his place as Player Two," said Theo, "and while Vanessa and I think that Theo shouldn't entirely blame Luigi for his woes, what we saw today convinced us that something must be done."
"Hi," said Vanessa. "I'm Ethan's mom, and—I also main Princess Peach. Theo and I team up against other players, late at night when the kids are in bed, and he plays as Mario."
"Aww..." Cooed the others.
"It's so much fun. I mean one time, we were fighting against two Greninjas, and they were spamming their neutral-B moves, but I just pulled out Toad and no-selled them every time. We won when I did the Peach Bomber and knocked them offstage. Mario and Peach are so adorable together. They should get married!"
Laughter.
"Anyway, I tried Luigi once. He...didn't really grow on me as much as Peach. His moves make no logical sense and the number of combos he had gave me a headache. I wanted to help Ethan improve his skills so he could fare better against his friends, but..." She sighed. "We fight sometimes over him. We make up, but it's so taxing. Luigi's combo game is straining my relationship with Ethan, and I don't like that."
"How is it straining your relationship?" Manny wanted to know.
"I try to encourage him to keep an open mind and help him realize that instead of sulking and bad-mouthing Luigi, he should study him and find his weak spots. That's why I picked up Luigi for a while. We'd play Smash together, and then I'd pull out the L so he can practice for the next time he faces a Luigi player. But he just...gives up." She sighed. "If Luigi didn't have those combos, maybe I can enjoy a better relationship with my son."
Mumbles of agreement.
"And Anna—his sister—he picks on her when he defends Luigi." Vanessa shook her head. "That man in green and his combos are trying to ruin our family!"
"Anna? Is there anything you'd like to say?" Shane gently asked.
"Mom's right. I try to make Ethan see that Luigi's not that bad, and then he gets really mad at me like Luigi is the enemy. But he's not a bad guy! He helps Mario beat the real bad guy!"
Koopa grumbled from where he sat.
"I mean, I play as Mario a lot, but I also play as Luigi on the side. I learned how to both play as Luigi and against him, and that's more than I can say for some people."
"Anna," chided Theo.
"What are your thoughts on what you saw today?" Manny asked.
"Everybody loses sometimes," Anna said wisely. "Even Super Mario. But I know he'll take that loss and use it to get better, like Mom tells Ethan and I to do. Right, Mom?"
"That's my girl," said Vanessa.
One by one, Vince, Manny and Shane interviewed the other new "recruits" of Project Nerf. They received an insight into their personal lives and their perceptions of Luigi. Some thought that he was an okay guy, fun to learn, but frustrating to beat. Others thought that he was extremely overpowered and had an unfair advantage over the other Smashers. More believed that he was making their win-loss records in competitive Smash suffer. Many argued that Mario was the better brother, the one with the stronger reputation, and that he deserved to win. And some accused Luigi of spawning arguments with families at the dinner table or with friends, either because friends or family members were trying in vain to overcome him, or because they had conflicting views of him and his combo game, or because their efforts to best him were eclipsing their quality time, or because someone was trying to help them improve against him, or because they were being laughed at for allowing the second player to beat them. Or something like that.
"Interesting," said Vince. "I'm glad you ran into our friends this afternoon. Feel free to chat them up at the conclusion of tonight's meeting."
He turned to Falco. "Is there something you'd like to say?"
Falco cleared his throat. "I've given this a lot of thought," he began, "and after what happened with Mario, I've made my commitment. I have decided to continue as an active member of Project Nerf. There is no turning back. I now realize that the key to reconciling with Luigi lies in eliminating those combos."
Manny beamed. "Wise decision," he said. "We look forward to hearing a presentation from you. Finally, things are moving along in our plan. And we must say, we're very happy with the Mario fans you've brought along tonight."
Falco blushed.
"Now," said Shane as more food and drink was set out, "let's eat, drink and be merry! Good times ahead, indeed!"
The conspirators couldn't have agreed more.
1.1.1
Back in the Smash Mansion, the other Smashers were fast asleep. Save for two.
Armed with a few sweat towels and a Gatorade, Mario strode toward the Training Room. His steps were quiet but purposeful. Only his eyes betrayed his eagerness and excitement.
Carefully, he pushed open the door and entered. Luigi was already waiting for him, seated casually on the floor. He also had sweat towels and Gatorade nearby.
The man in green rose when he saw his big bro. They strode toward each other till they were nose-to-nose. To Mario's relief, Luigi's face was softer than during their talk in the locker room. And Mario's own frustration had long since passed.
Both bros raised their fists, staring intently into the other's eyes.
Mario was the first to speak. "Let's-a go."
"Okie-dokie," Luigi replied.
And the spar began.
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