The Usual Suspects: 5+1
Five times Falcon and Fox tried to downplay their past transgressions and one time they finally owned up.
One
Following Evan and Mandy's wedding, the situation in Smash returned to some degree of normalcy. Master Hand went back to investigating the cyberbullying epidemic and looking into what might had happened in the past. So far, he'd cleared Pikachu, Kirby, Yoshi, Jigglypuff and Mario of any wrongdoing in 1999. For 2001, Sheik and Peach turned up clean. For 2008, Meta Knight, Olimar, Diddy Kong and Zero Suit Samus were in the clear. Which left Captain Falcon, Fox and Falco.
Master Hand knew that these three were heroic and normally pleasant to be around. But perhaps they let their high ranking get to their heads without them actually realizing it. He wasn't as concerned with Falco as he was with Falcon and Fox, since the avian was known to be quite brash at times. But in the first tournament, Fox and Falcon acted like they owned the place—and they weren't even at the very top. Falcon, especially, was cocky and swaggering, especially if he had too much to drink. Master remembered the little incident he'd witnessed between Falcon and Luigi, something he'd never confronted either about. But Falcon had insisted that those days were behind him. It was true—he was best buddies with the man in green now. Which begged the question—if he hadn't been nerfed, then would he have changed his attitude?
And then there was Fox. The King of Melee. The poster boy of 20XX. While in 1999 was a bit overly confident, in 2001, he acted like he was untouchable. He'd overheard him boating about how he'd "dethroned" Kirby and Pikachu. True, his waveshining, shine-spiking, quick mobility, lightning-fast attacks and seemingly endless approaching, combo-ing, recovery and damaging opportunities made him close to impossible to beat, but he wasn't completely impervious. It was something he had to learn the hard way when he lost to a few mid and lower tier fighters. Luigi had been one of them.
If memory served, Falco wasn't that much of a big deal. Sure, he was right up with Fox in the "20XX" business, but he was still a Fox clone. A faux pas during Adventure Mode, forcing him to use a continue, had quickly cured him of his overconfidence. By the end of Melee, he and Luigi had a close working relationship.
After his musings, Master Hand decided to clear Falco.
Now, about those other two…
Flashback: 1999
The piece of paper slid out of the printer and into Master Hand's waiting fingers. He turned the warm paper over and examined it.
It was the first tier list, in all of its glory.
Leisurely, Master floated out of his office and down several hallways, passing the rooms of some Smashers as he went. In the main hall, he stopped and put the list up onto the big bulletin board. Then, he nodded and turned away, failing to notice the red-clad hero watching from afar.
When he was certain that Master had gone, Mario went up to the bulletin board, half-humming the Ground Theme from Super Mario Bros. He skimmed his finger down the tier list till he stopped at his picture.
"Hmm," he murmured. Seventh place, huh? Well, seven was a lucky number. Though he wasn't as high as he hoped, it would have to do.
"Okeydokey," Mario said energetically. He was about to turn to leave when something else occurred to him.
Mario traced all the way down the tier list, and at the very bottom…
"Whoa!" he exclaimed as his eye and finger fell on Luigi's picture. They put him dead last?! But—he'd fought well so far, and he made sure to follow up his combos with his fiery uppercut. Why was he so low? His traction? His mobility and approach issues? His falling speed? He came here to make something of himself, and now look what happened! His already-low morale was going to take a serious hit regarding this.
Should he tell him before word got out? Help him process what Sakurai and Co. thought of him? Comfort him and try to make him see the tier list in a positive light? No doubt, once Luigi saw it and found out that Mario already knew, he'd be hurt that his own brother would keep secrets from him. It was like choosing between the lesser of two evils. Faced with this impossible choice, Mario had only this to say:
"Mamma mia!"
Later…
"Are you kidding me?! Last place?!"
Luigi was beside himself as the reality stood unflinchingly before him. He had to hand it to Mario—he'd tried to prepare him. He'd warned him that he'd seen the tier list and that he was ranked pretty low. He just didn't expect to find himself at the very bottom. He was going to remember that little lie by omission the next time they met on the battlefield.
"Excuse me! Coming through!" yelled Mario as he pushed his way through the crowd to reach his brother. They locked eyes, and Mario knew it was useless to try and pretend.
"I wanted to tell you," Mario said softly.
"I know."
And then Luigi was in the comfort of his brother's arms. Around them, the upper tiers celebrated and the lower tiers fulminated. Then, Yoshi broke away, seeing his "mother's" deflated state, and nuzzled his shoulder.
"Yoshi?"
"No, I'm not mad at you," Luigi assured the dinosaur, patting his chin. "I don't even know who I want to be mad at."
"I don't care what this thing says," said Mario. "I think you are a strong fighter."
"Thanks, Mario."
Mario and Yoshi watched as Luigi gravitated toward the other "C" tiers to commiserate with them.
Still later…
Kirby floated into the lounge, a tray of ice-cream sundaes in his arms. Before him, he saw a sight he hoped to fix.
The Smashers, once uncaring of where they sat, now grouped at different tables. Each tier had their own table, it seemed. Well, Kirby and his new friend, Pikachu, didn't like that idea. The tier list didn't mean that they couldn't sit together anymore! That was just plain mean!
Placing the tray onto the table he normally shared with Pikachu, Kirby looked out to where the "C" tiers sat, talking intimately. It was only natural for them to band together to survive. Kirby lifted a sundae from the tray and floated his way to the "C" tier table. There, he held out the sundae to the first person he saw—Luigi.
"Poyo," Kirby said with a smile.
Slowly, suspiciously, Luigi reached out and took the sundae. After all, a higher tier didn't offer something to a lower tier unless there was a catch. Here, the catch was relatively small—Kirby invited him to join him and Pikachu at their table.
"Thank you," nodded Luigi as he followed Kirby to the "S" tier table and took a seat.
Mario and Jigglypuff turned and watched, mesmerized, as Kirby held the tray of ice-creams out to the other "C" tiers. "Poyo, poyo, poyo!" he called to them.
Ness was the next person to sidle over, accepting a sundae with an "Okay!"
He was followed by Link, a grateful smile on his lips.
Rolling her eyes and smiling, Samus got up and lumbered over to join them.
DK made happy ape noises as he ambled over.
Mario beamed. "That was a very considerate thing to do, Kirby," he praised softly.
"Poyo!" squealed Kirby, indicating the remaining empty seats. Mario and Jigglypuff stood up and made themselves comfortable at Kirby's table, beside Luigi and Pikachu, respectively.
"Yoshi!" The green dino hopped over to sit next to the Mario Bros.
Kirby giggled gleefully. His plan had worked. The Smashers were sitting at one big table again, as they should be.
Well, almost all of them.
The moment was broken by Falcon and Fox making a pompous, gratuitously loud entrance.
"Hey, Kirby! Don't forget to save some for the winners!" crowed Falcon.
"Whoo! It's time to celebrate!" joined in Fox.
"Poyo, poyo!" Kirby said sharply.
"Kirby's right!" said Link. "We're all winners here!"
"And we are celebrating!" added Mario. "Celebrating being together!"
"I'm sure Kirby will hook you up if you ask nicely," said Ness.
"Pfft, you can have those little sundaes," said Falcon. "There are some bad apples in this bunch, and my new friend and I don't want to hang around with them. C'mon, Fox, let's get some nachos!"
As they sidled up to the counter to order their nachos, Luigi stared intently after them. Look at those two! Prancing around like famous celebrities, making big shows of walking into a room as if to say, "We are the best of the best; stop what you're doing a pay your respects to us!" Kirby and Pikachu, the top tiers, didn't mind sharing their space with lower tiers, and yet Falcon and Fox were too "good" for that?! Their attitude was sickening.
"Yoshi, what are you doing over there?" called Fox. "Come hang with us!"
"Yoshi!" the dino stated firmly.
"Oh, whatever!" eyerolled Falcon, loudly crunching on his nachos.
The other table finished off their sundaes, thanked Kirby for his generosity and departed the lounge to get on with their day. Luigi was the last to go, staring hungrily at the full-of-it, fabulous me racer and vulpine.
Flashback End
Falcon sat at a table outside Brewster's Café, sipping a strawberry daiquiri. As of late, the racer had given himself some time to dwell on the past. When Master Hand announced the shutdown of Miiverse and privately confronted the high tiers of tourneys past, he'd been confident that his past ego had been swept under the rug. But in the days following reports of the bullies' militant actions, he was no longer so sure. He had a big ego back in the day, but he was certainly no bully. Bullies aimed to hurt people. Falcon had just wanted to joke around. So, why was this guilt weighing on him?
"Nice day, isn't it, Douglas?"
Falcon looked up. "Hey, Fox. Thank you for coming," he said.
The vulpine smiled and sat in the chair across from the racer. "You look a bit troubled," he said. "What's up?"
"I dunno," sighed Falcon. "I guess our talk with MH brought up some stuff."
"You mean the tier list business?" asked Fox.
"Yup. Falcon—memories."
"I feel you, bro," murmured Fox. "We were wild and foolish, and I honestly thought those days were behind us. I never really saw myself as a bully. Did you?"
"No. It was just harmless fun. Like the Villagers these days," said Falcon. "Just enough to—you know."
"Well, we did go after Luigi more than the other C tiers," Fox pointed out, "and you were making eyes at Samus, who was a C-tier."
"But we didn't hurt him like the others hurt him," said Falcon. "Besides, once all was said and done, he forgave us. All he wanted to do was break the stigma which came from being last all the time."
"But has he really forgiven us?" asked Fox. "Or did he just say that to help himself—and us—move on from it?"
"Granted, L is a fireball in these tournaments," said Falcon, "but he's willing to forgive if one admits responsibility for their actions."
Fox stroked his chin. "Yeah—I think we're good with him," he said finally. "Our chemistry on and off the battlefield has improved significantly. It's the ones who never change who need to watch out."
"Yes!" said Falcon. "I knew there was nothing to worry about. FALCON—RELIEVED!"
"I feel relieved, too," said Fox. "Let's eat!"
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Two
A week and a half had gone by. Evan and Mandy were still on their honeymoon at Delfino Plaza. Often, they'd come out to watch the battles that took place while soaking up some sun. But they were the least of Master Hand's worries right now.
"YES!"
Douglas appeared in his office, Fox right next to him.
"Do you always have to do that?" eyerolled Master.
"What? It's stylish!" balked Falcon. "So, what brings us here, MH?"
"Oh, nothing," Master said casually. "Care for a drink? You both look like you could use one."
"Don't mind if I do," said Fox as he sauntered over to Master's minibar.
As Falcon poured himself a strong one, he became conscious of the low music on Master's stereo. It was a tune he knew all too well.
"Hey, MH, do you mind switching that off for a spell?" he asked. "If we're going to chat, then that's going to be distracting."
Master gave the Captain a wry look. "Is it distracting you—or guilt-tripping you?"
Douglas knocked back half of his drink. "Where did you get those tunes, anyway?"
"I have my ways," replied Master. "Please, have a seat."
Fox and Falcon sat before the giant glove. The racer shifted uncomfortably as Master slightly turned up the volume.
"I do understand your confusion as to how 'The Rocky Road to Dublin' would fit well with a tournament," he said, "but it looks like you've found some good ways. Especially you, Douglas."
"Falcon—confused. What are you getting at?" asked the racer.
"Perhaps you'd like to know how my investigation is going," said Master. "The Miiverse debacle brought up some questions about what may have taken place well before then. The other top-tiers have successfully pleaded their innocence. But I still have my doubts about you, Captain Falcon, and you too, Fox."
"What do you mean? We don't bully people!" whined Fox.
"You don't, now. But late, late at night, when everyone else is asleep, I've started to have unsettling memories involving you two."
Falcon and Fox looked at each other.
"Look, MH, being at the top is something to be happy and proud of," said Falcon. "We probably boasted over it a little too much, but other than that, nothing serious happened."
"Yeah," said Fox. "We were just fooling around."
"I see why you want me to turn the music off," said Master, turning the volume up once more. "Some unpleasant memories are coming back. Aren't they, Douglas?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," Falcon stated defensively.
"Oh? Then would you mind telling me what might have happened between you and Luigi on the day the first tier list came out?" quizzed Master. "I distinctly remember this song playing during the affair."
"Nothing," Falcon said quickly. "It was nothing. I was just inviting him to show his moves, that's all."
"Yeah. No biggie," added Fox.
"No biggie? Judging by the look I saw on Luigi's face, it was definitely a biggie. You must've made him quite upset."
"Well, we made our peace, didn't we?" asked Falcon. "Look, what happened has happened. Let's not waste each other's time talking about this." He glanced at his watch. "Uh-oh. I have a match coming up. Gotta run."
"Yeah—er—me, too," said Fox.
"Yes!" yelled Falcon as the door closed after them.
"Trust me," said Master. "I will find out eventually."
Flashback: 1999
It was late in the afternoon. The twelve Smashers were enjoying some R&R before the last wave of the day's matches. Falcon and Fox were still hyped up from their placement on the tier list and had decided to celebrate with a few drinks.
The two were in the Captain's room, rocking out to a cover of the F-Zero Theme. The music was blasting obnoxiously loud, prompting disgruntled cries from some neighboring fighters.
"Yes! Is this living the dream or what?" crowed Falcon.
"Oh, yeah! Living the dream, pal!" chuckled Fox. "Got any more?"
"How about some peppermint schnapps?"
"Taking a walk on the wild side, are we?"
"Hey, Fox?"
"Yeah?"
"Schnapps!"
They burst out laughing.
Then, the two proceeded to get thoroughly plastered, sloppily singing along to the tunes on the radio. A disaster waiting to strike…
Meanwhile…
Luigi was a different type of drinker. While most enjoyed throwing back shot after shot, he took a little more time with his drinks. Instead of gulping, he sipped. Slow, gentle sips of his Poppin' Purple Tanqueray, followed by a few bites of food, to control that tipsy feeling. His eyes were still clear, his coordination was okay, he could move without staggering and could speak without slurring. He knew when to stop before he even started. His drink was sugary, sour and satisfying. He almost forgot that he was at the very bottom of the tier list. Maybe it wasn't the end of the world, after all.
All around him were signs of a good time. Pikachu, Kirby and Yoshi were playing darts. DK and Mario played charades with some Polygons. Ness and Samus were playing cards. Jigglypuff, Link and some more Polygons danced to the music. Luigi took a longer sip and then licked his lips, breathing in the positive energy surrounding him. He saw Yoshi leaving the darts game to join in the dancing. After a while, Ness, Mario and DK followed suit, while Samus ventured over to Kirby and Pikachu to invite one of them for a dance. It wasn't long before Luigi was on the dance floor, drink in hand, writhing wildly to the driving rhythm. Vocals, drums, synth and other raucous noises rattled through his body. His refreshing drink was starting to splash, yet he continued to move, losing himself in the demanding beat. He hadn't danced like this in what seemed like forever. The other occupants egged him on, and he responded by dancing harder, faster—shutting out everything else in his mind until his breathing grew a bit ragged and his throat began to smart.
He headed back to his seat and ordered a refill of his drink, graduating from sips to small gulps. At this point, he was starting to feel the tingle of the liquor, a daring feeling and a desire to cut loose washing over him. He took his refilled drink back to the dance floor and busted moves more vigorously than ever, earning whoops of approval. His hips worked, and his free arm swayed above his head. He couldn't tell if the moistness on him was sweat, his spilling drink or both. Eyes closing, the purple drink flopping and leaving kisses on his eyelids and eyelashes, Luigi threw himself into the riff, thinking of what could possibly make this more exciting.
The song faded out, another one taking its place. Luigi danced, slid and undulated through a few verses and a bridge before exiting the floor and sitting back down, breathing deeply. His head cleared, as if blurry glasses were removed from his eyes, the A.C. quickly drying the moisture covering him. He flipped a few G to the bartender refilling his drink. Today was better than he expected, indeed.
"Hey! Hey, hey!"
Two very intoxicated people were stumbling into the room.
"Where is he? The last-place loser? You're the bottom of the food chain, buddy!"
It was as if someone hit the pause button. The dancing and partying halted, even the music, transitioning from one song to the next.
"Somebody here had better explain the pecking order to him, because it's not fun and games anymore!"
Douglas and Fox stood in the doorway, swaying on their feet, arms around each other.
"Are you guys drunk?" Mario calmly asked.
"What? We're not allowed to indulge in guilty pleasures?" hiccupped Fox.
"Guys, the matches aren't over yet! You can't fight like this!" squealed Jigglypuff. "Puff!"
"You'd better have a good explanation to Master Hand for this," added Samus. "And Douglas, flirting and drinking do not mix."
Slowly, Luigi traced his finger round the rim of his glass, the images of Falcon and Fox reflecting off of it.
"C'mon, you n—b! You can't hide from us! Let's see how low you are!" bellowed Falcon.
Luigi tipped back his glass and allowed the last of the concoction to pour down his throat. Then, instead of tossing it like they did in the movies, he gently set the empty glass back down on the counter. Steadily, he swiveled around and stood, his eyes caustic blue sparks. On his face was a look usually reserved for Koopa Troopas, Hammer Bros and a certain reptilian king with a fetish for kidnapping peachy princesses.
All of the Polygons in the room started clapping for Luigi, with the other "C" tiers joining in shortly thereafter.
Luigi's still-clear eyes burned into the two interlopers as he rolled up his sleeves.
"Yes! Time to settle this like men!" said Douglas. "If you're even capable of doing that!"
As Fox hung back and shouted dares, the racer charged forward.
And then the music started back up, an oldie but goodie this time.
Licking traces of his beverage from his lips, Luigi met Douglas in the middle of the floor, focusing rock-solid punches on his body. The guy was so plugged to the gills that his movements were clumsy and uncoordinated. He could easily jump out of his reach. Dancing left, dancing right, easily making the Captain lose his balance and then dashing in and punishing heavily. Some good ones here and there, a few behind the ears, a nice bunch over the ears, a kick or two, maybe—and a quick stream of fireballs at the face. But a few moments in, Luigi understood that Falcon needed a little more convincing.
Judging by the trouble Douglas was now in, Luigi expected Fox to dash to his rescue. But, nay. He showed no interest in backing up his words with actions. And even if he did, it would be impossible, what with Mario restraining the vulpine in a tight grip and all. Despite his immobility, Fox continued to shout cocky things, with Mario calling out to his little bro.
More raucous shouts joined theirs.
By some strange stroke of luck, Falcon managed to answer back with a few strikes, making Luigi's jaws snap together and his forehead sing. But he'd show him. He didn't fold as easily as people thought. Tuning out his opponent's obnoxious yells, Luigi darted right back in his face, unleashing a quadruple-whammy with a side of mess-with-me. To be honest, he was surprised that he reacted to this like he had. He'd held himself in and played the role of the loyal sidekick for years. Now, with the big middle finger from Sakurai and Co. still fresh in his mind combined with two high-tiers thinking they were royalty, he was finally going to let it manifest.
It felt finger-licking good.
Falcon howled with pain and intoxicated laughter, egging Luigi on, expecting to be met with a tidal wave of fury. He didn't get it, as Luigi settled for defensive maneuvers and throwing fireballs until he had the guy reeling again. Douglas changed that but quick when he grabbed a tumbler and flung its contents into Luigi's face. The distracted man was then the recipient of two blinding punches to the face, a knee to either side of his body and a flurry of strikes followed by an uppercut which made his face meet the ground.
O—kay. That was it. That. Was. Freaking. It. The man in green was going to make sure that the racer got more from this than a hangover. He hopped back up and stared daggers at the man across from him, who had his arms spread wide, taunting derisively and saying something about showing moves.
Moves were exactly what he got.
Luigi waited, doing exactly the opposite of what the drunk-off-his-butt fellow wanted him to, and effortlessly interceded the charge, turning the tide back in his favor. He continued to take some as well as give some, but the pain on his features was like a camera flash—gone in an instant. That Poppin' Purple Tanqueray was a Poppin' Purple Power-Up. He only knew the strangely fitting as well as unfitting music, the crowd roaring, Douglas shouting drunkenly and the fact that he wasn't going to take this disrespect anymore. The back of his mind warned him that Master Hand would walk in on this. Well, let him!
The scrap went shamelessly on, the tune and the cheering and yelling sizzling through Luigi's veins. And as he continued to engage the man who tried to gang up on him, something burst open inside of him, driving him ecstatically wild and making him answer the yells around him with yells of his own, yells that carried above all else except for that crazy tune which he was certain was trying to take him over.
While in the merry month of May from me home I started,
Left the girls of Tuam so sad and broken hearted,
Saluted father dear, kissed me darling mother,
Drank a pint of beer, me grief and tears to smother,
Then off to reap the corn, leave where I was born,
Cut a stout black thorn to banish ghosts and goblins;
Bought a pair of brogues rattling o'er the bogs
And fright'ning all the dogs on the rocky road to Dublin.
One, two, three four, five,
Hunt the Hare and turn her down the rocky road
all the way to Dublin, Whack follol de rah!
In Mullingar that night I rested limbs so weary,
Started by daylight next morning blithe and early,
Took a drop of pure to keep me heartfrom sinking;
That's a Paddy's cure whenever he's on drinking.
See the lassies smile, laughing all the while
At me curious style, 'twould set your heart a bubblin'
Asked me was I hired, wages I required,
I was almost tired of the rocky road to Dublin.
One, two, three four, five,
Hunt the Hare and turn her down the rocky road
all the way to Dublin, Whack follol de rah!
In Dublin next arrived, I thought it such a pity
To be soon deprived a view of that fine city.
So then I took a stroll, all among the quality;
Me bundle it was stole, all in a neat locality.
Something crossed me mind, when I looked behind,
No bundle could I find upon me stick a wobblin'
Enquiring for the rogue, they said me Connaught brogue
Wasn't much in vogue on the rocky road to Dublin.
One, two, three four, five,
Hunt the Hare and turn her down the rocky road
all the way to Dublin, Whack follol de rah!
From there I got away, me spirits never falling,
Landed on the quay, just as the ship was sailing.
The Captain at me roared, said that no room had he;
When I jumped aboard, a cabin found for Paddy.
Down among the pigs, played some hearty rigs,
Danced some hearty jigs, the water round me bubbling;
When off Holyhead I wished meself was dead,
Or better for instead on the rocky road to Dublin.
One, two, three four, five,
Hunt the Hare and turn her down the rocky road
all the way to Dublin, Whack follol de rah!
Well the boys of Liverpool, when we safely landed,
Called meself a fool, I could no longer stand it.
Blood began to boil, temper I was losing;
Poor old Erin's Isle they began abusing.
"Hurrah me soul" says I, me Shillelagh I let fly.
Some Galway boys were nigh and saw I was a hobble in,
With a load "hurray !" joined in the affray.
We quitely cleared the way for the rocky road to Dublin.
One, two, three four, five,
Hunt the Hare and turn her down
the rocky road and all the way to Dublin,
Whack follol de rah!
It was Master Hand's nonchalant voice announcing the day's last matches which brought an end to the scuffle.
Flashback End
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Three
"Gosh, can you remember them all? The poop pranks, urine pranks and other bathroom pranks we pulled on him?" asked Fox.
"I remember them well," nodded Falcon. And indeed, he could vividly call some to mind, from the trips to the toilet stall, carrying a bottle of chocolate syrup to explode all over the stall next to him, to squeezing a bottle of lemonade onto a leg or a shoe. Lending a piece of toilet paper to the man next to him, smearing it with syrup.
"We must've been crazy then," mused Fox.
"Maybe we were," shrugged Falcon. "But, hey, it wasn't that bad. We didn't pull them in public and we didn't make them spectacles for others to laugh at. Just some harmless fun, yes?"
"Yep. Harmless fun."
The duo passed through the lounge, where they encountered Luigi, cheerily waving to them. Yes, everything was just fine between them.
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Four
A good detective left no stone unturned. Relaxing in his office, Master Hand allowed the bits and pieces to swim around in his mind. A hungover and beaten Falcon, doing all these nice things for Luigi as soon as he sobered up, offering wide-eyed apologies and pleas for forgiveness. Surprised yelps being heard from bathrooms. Chocolate and lemonade stains on Luigi's clothes during Laundry Day. And walking in one day to find the top half of the tier list covered in angry scribble, Italian swear words written all over it.
"YES!"
"Falcon, for goodness sake!" yelped Master.
"So I just talked to Luigi, and he told me that he'd love to have me as an ally in a Team Battle," announced Falcon. "Then, he invited me and Fox to lunch!"
"And you're telling me this because…"
"I'm presenting proof that whatever happened in Smash 64 is staying in Smash 64," said Douglas. "FALCON—VINDICATED!"
Master could only gape as the racer sauntered out of the office.
Flashback: 1999
The racer smirked at his opponent as they stood on opposite ends of the stage. Luigi was on a platform, just off from the main area, and behind him was open space. He stayed there, knowing what Falcon was poised to do and seeing how it would work out.
"Show me ya moves!" challenged Falcon before running full-steam toward the plumber.
Annoyance and amusement colored Luigi's face. He readied a punch as…
"FALCON—KICK!"
Unfortunately, due to the high momentum of the move, Falcon overshot his target and couldn't recover in time. Down he went.
Steam rose from his ears as he respawned. "You were lucky," he said, "but I'll get you this time!"
Go on. Make sure your aim is right, so I can Super Smash that smug look off your face.
"Show me ya moves!" With those words, Douglas launched another attack at Luigi, but like last time, he overshot him and plummeted helplessly down.
Two more self-destructs later, the words "GAME SET!" sealed the racer's fate.
"Ugh—what happened?"
Luigi's face was carefully frozen. "What do you think? You SD'd, and I won."
"Self-destructed?"
"Four times," Luigi icily added.
"Falcon—mope. I should've watched where I was going."
"Instead of taunting 'the last-place loser' about showing moves?" Falcon saw that look. He made a point.
"Yeah, maybe I got a little carried away. I'm sorry."
"I know. I was so close to having you, too." A small smile quirked Luigi's face. "Tell you what—how about a rematch tomorrow?"
"Yes!"
"I knew you'd like that." That was when the seriousness came back. "But don't think for one second that I'll go easy on you."
"Of course."
Flashback End
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Five
"Trust me, if you have something nagging at you, then you should own up," Fox was saying to Falcon over the phone. "It'll not only advance your relationships with MH and Luigi, but also with—her."
"Hey, how'd you know about us?"
"You've flirted with her since the first go-round. Look, she probably caught on to whatever mischief you were up to. If you don't get it off your chest, you'll irritate her."
"You give surprisingly good relationship advice," Falcon said cordially. "I'll think about it, okay, Fox?"
"Okay. See you round." Fox hung up and sidled to his window, where he stared outside, his mind drifting…
Flashback: 1999
"Guys! I'm being clobbered down here!" Fox shouted into his comm link, in the midst of a furious one-on-one with Luigi atop the Great Fox.
"A wise decision not to bring me along, eh, Fox?" deadpanned Falco.
"Falco! I asked you time and time again if you wanted me to bring you an application, and you said you weren't up to it!" retorted Fox as he rolled out of the range of his foe's fireballs and took cover behind the rear wing, shooting away with his Blaster.
"I've been in close hand-to-hand combat with this guy for the past fifteen minutes," he explained to his team. "He's giving me everything he's got!"
"Like I said I would!" Luigi's voice called to him.
"How's that Blaster working out?" wondered Slippy.
"Cheap thing! No flinching, no sign of a wound or anything!" wailed Fox. He used Firefox as a quick getaway to a safer area and brought his Reflector into play before knocking Luigi aside with a good kick. "He's stronger than I thought!"
"I thought you knew that," mumbled Luigi as he struggled to his feet.
"Hey, Fox! I'll get you out of this!" Peppy said cheerily. "Do a barrel roll!"
"Oh, come on…!"
A sudden blow knocked Fox sprawling, his earpiece skittering away. Before he could retrieve it, Luigi snatched it up and spoke into it.
"Better get in next time, Falco."
And then he chucked the thing off the end of the stage.
"What? I needed that!"
"No, you don't," Luigi said firmly. "Technically, that's cheating."
Fox drew his Blaster, but had only squeezed off a few shots when Luigi sent it twirling from his fingers and into oblivion. "I told you your handy space gadgets won't get past me," he said. "Now, what do you say to getting a little closer in?"
Fox took him up on his offer, but even with his martial-arts style attacks, he couldn't penetrate Luigi's defenses. Before long, he found himself clinging to the fuselage of his starship for dear life.
"No! I am not losing to the worst character in the game!"
Realizing that he'd spoken that thought aloud, Fox dared to look up.
Luigi stood there, looking down at him with wounded doe eyes, fists half-unclenched in shock. Slowly, he walked forward till he was balanced on the edge, and Fox could hardly look away from the unbridled malevolence meeting him.
"Classy, McCloud. Very classy," Luigi said in a monotone voice. "Why did you have to bring that up?"
"L, that slipped out. I'm sorry…"
"Fine, I forgive you. But just to make sure that doesn't happen again…"
He crossed his arms behind his back and bashfully kicked the ground, meteor-smashing Fox off the stage.
Flashback End
Fox turned on the TV and found one of the channels showing the matches in progress. Maybe the tier list did make him assign a value to himself. And that was glaringly true in Melee, when he considered himself too "cool" for hanging out with those lower on the tier list. He nearly alienated himself from Luigi, to be honest. The plumber surely knocked that into him during a Corneria battle toward the end of Melee, when he had the vulpine trapped in an area of the Great Fox popularly denoted "the House of Pain". True to its moniker, Luigi had used the back wing to infinitely combo Fox. He distinctly recalled the guy getting quite—emotional—during it. And then there were the times when Fox's speed and light weight led to embarrassing self-destructs. In the years between Melee and Brawl, Fox had conceded that maybe he was a bit OP and considered it just that he was nerfed in the 2008 tournament.
But he'd taken the opportunity to change his ways. He wasn't like those other bullies—right?
Right?
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+One
"Aw, who are we kidding?" Falcon finally said after some debating with Fox. "The way we were back then, we were no better than those bullies."
"Thinking about it—no, we weren't," said Fox.
"I guess this means that we'd better let the cat out of the bag," sighed Falcon.
"It's best for all of us," agreed Fox.
Seconds later, they rushed into Master Hand's office, where they spilled everything. The practical toilet jokes. Their "better-than-everyone-else" attitude. The self-destructs brought on by such an attitude. And Falcon provoking a fistfight with Luigi on that fateful day.
"Truly, we're very sorry about that," finished Fox. "How can we make up for what we've done?"
Master Hand, a bit bewildered by the flurries of confessions, gave them a sly look. "I know a good way to start," he said.
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Captain Falcon and Fox made their way to Luigi's room, where he sat by the window, splattered with paint, doing some artwork.
"L, that's a marvelous piece you're working on," said Fox.
Luigi turned. "Oh. Hey, you two."
Falcon cleared his throat. "Look," he began. "We're sorry about everything we did back in the day. You know, the pranking and the taunting and that little 'incident' that afternoon. We acted like total jerks, and we regret that, every moment. But, we just want you to know—we're different people now. We respect you and we hold you among the best."
"You really mean that?" asked Luigi.
"We do," intoned Fox.
The plumber blushed. "That was a thoughtful and sweet gesture," he said, "but I managed to move past that a long time ago. Still, it was nice to hear you say it. But I wonder—was it being nerfed that made you change?"
"Part of it, yes," said Fox, "but the other part was you. We kind of pushed you away doing all of that."
"You really did," Luigi said solemnly. "I'm glad you saw the hint where nobody else did."
"Well, we're glad we could clear that up," said Fox. "Time for us to get going. Take care, L!"
"You, too," beamed Luigi.
They hugged, and the vulpine and the racer exited feeling almost weightless.
"YES!" Falcon crowed in triumph and relief.
A few days later…
"Case closed," smiled Master Hand as he finally crossed Fox and Douglas off the list of suspects. "Now we can finally narrow down our search, and that's a good thing."
"It was about time," said Crazy Hand. "I was starting to tune out for a second."
"Glad to know that it wasn't as far back as we thought," added Master Core.
They were about to toast to a checkpoint in their investigation when a Mii ran inside, her face pale.
"What is it?" asked MC.
"Sirs," stated the Mii. "We called role three times and searched all of the Training Rooms and outside areas, but we still couldn't find him."
"Who?" asked Crazy.
"Luigi," said the Mii. "He's—gone!"
The three bosses exchanged looks.
"Oh, no," groaned Master. "God help us all."