Doc Louis' gym

Punch-Out dimension

"Welcome back to the final fight of the World Video Boxing Association grand tournament!" a voice blared from a small TV sitting in the corner of the gym. Not too far away, a figure in a purple hoodie hung back to the side, his glance fixed on the screen.

"If you're just joining us, we have an INCREDIBLE match for you boxing fans today! Our WVBA World Champion has charged through all who stood before him like a raging bull! Rated at two hundred eighty-four pounds and six foot five, this thirty-one-year-old American assaulter has won thirty-one fights, all by KO! And if that's not impressive enough, he has never known the meaning of defeat! That's right, ZERO losses! The challenger better be careful with him, because he is known to put his enemies to sleep! Ladies and gentlemen, hailing from the city of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, put your hands together for MISSTERRRRRRR SAAAAANDMAAAAAAN!"

The crowd in the ring erupted into a roar of cheers as a muscled brown-skinned man appeared on-screen, pounding his green gloves together as he responded to the roar of the crowd by giving one of his own. Stepping into the ring, he raised his arms high… only to stop when lights flashed on at the opposite end of the stadium. A figure in a purple hoodie slowly began walking towards the ring as the voice spoke out again.

"And here he is now, folks. The man you've all been waiting for! The latest challenger to the WVBA tournament has reached the final rung on the ladder! This fight will determine if he can climb it! Under the tutelage of former heavyweight champion Jerome Louis, he's pushed through them all: Glass Joe, Von Kaiser, Disco Kid, King Hippo, Piston Hondo, Bear Hugger, Great Tiger, Don Flamenco, Aran Ryan, Soda Popinski, Bald Bull, and even Super Macho Man! Most of those opponents were about twice his size, but he has proven that being small packs a big punch! At only seventeen years old, one hundred seven pounds and five foot seven, this could be his biggest challenge yet! He may seem outmatched, but he has proven that the facts don't scare him! Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for the Bruiser from the Bronx himself: LIIIITTTLLEEEEEE MMAAAAAAAAACC!"

The figure flung off his hoodie as the crowd erupted once more, revealing a young man with black hair, a black singlet, black and white shoes, green shorts and green boxing gloves.

"This could write another chapter in the book of boxing history! Here, we could see Little Mac break Mr. Sandman's winning streak once and for all! The title of World Champion hangs in the balance! Let's see if he can pull it off!"

The two fighters rose their gloves and looked at each other dead in the eye…

DING DING!

"Prepare to say night-night!" Sandman lunged, with Mac quickly sidestepping before the glove could connect with his face. Throwing a counter jab, he made Sandman stumble back. Shaking it off, his opponent charged in again.

Watching as the match progressed (and intensified) on the TV, Mac remembered the small bruise that Sandman had given him. Doc was a little nervous when Sandman appeared, but it didn't even faze Mac. He hadn't come that far just to bail out.

On the screen, a large uppercut sent Mac sprawling onto the floor of the ring. As the announcer shouted out questions regarding if Mac would plummet to the bottom, the unmistakable countdown began by the ref.

"One! Two! Three! Four!"

Mac bounded back up on five, refusing to admit defeat so easily. The ref retreated from the fray, allowing Mac to return to the offensive, pummeling Sandman the moment he was caught off-guard. He went for the chest when he blocked high; the head when low. The flurry was one of many moves Doc had taught him… and a move that left opponents staggering.

Sandman had left himself open too many times when he swung for Mac with his special combo. Every time, his weakness was presented… and Mac took it, knocking him down twice. He got back up each time… but it was number three that did it.

Mac could almost hear himself yelling as he unleashed his mighty Star Punch: a devastating uppercut that slammed into Sandman's chin. The thud he made when he hit the ground still ringed in Mac's ears to this day.

"I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS!" The announcer screamed. "THE SANDMAN IS DOWN! THE SANDMAN HAS FALLEN ASLEEP BY T! K! O!"

A technical knock out won the day for Mac… and it also won him his dream.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, I PRESENT YOUR NEW WVBA WORLD CHAMPION: LITTLE MAC!"

For all Mac knew, Mr. Sandman was glaring at that one defeat, possibly desperate for a rematch. But he would have to wait for another time… and join other boxers in taking Mac's title from him.

Walking towards the TV, Mac reached out with one wrapped hand and turned a dial, making the image switch off to black color. Glancing around the gym, his eyes wandered to all the training equipment around him, a lit arcade machine against a wall, a row of lockers, posters of upcoming fights, the champion's belt hung on the wall… and the ring.

He could almost see himself and Doc Louis step into that ring to begin Mac's training. "Get ready to study hard, Mac." He remembered Doc telling him. "This is called 'old school'." That phrase had left Mac in confusion.

Sitting down on a bench nearby, Mac adjusted the wraps on his hands. He had never even bothered to count the number of times his title had threatened to be taken away, but he had bested all who tried to claim it as their own. But maybe one day, Mr. Sandman would return for that rematch…

"Hey, Mac!" a voice called out from the upper balcony. "Great work on that last fight!"

Turning and lowering his hood, Mac saw his trainer holding a bar of chocolate in his hand. Good old Doc had always helped him out through the roughest times of his career. He had helped him get back in the game when he threatened to quit after three losses, something he thanked the former heavyweight for afterward.

"What you've taught me is really helping out there," Mac commented. "I appreciate that."

"So do I, Mac. So do I." Doc replied. "Now… what do you say we take down the next challenger?"

Mac smirked as Doc took a bite out of his chocolate, putting his hood back on. Go time.

Loud rock music blared from a nearby radio as Mac began his training session. It kept his reflexes in check and his instincts sharp, and he needed to rely on both.

"Quick feet, Mac! Quick feet!" Doc shouted, munching his chocolate bar as Mac twirled a jump rope around himself as fast as he could. "Pick up the pace, son!" Mac took this encouragement so hard, he practically leaped while still twirling.

On the upper balcony, Doc held Mac in place as he performed sit-up after sit-up. "Come on, Mac! Come on! Ninety-eight! Ninety-nine! A hundred! A hundred and one! You ain't done yet!" he chanted. "Yeah, feel the burn!"

Holding two small weights in his hands, Mac lifted one arm after the other, grunting in determination. "Work 'em, Mac! Work 'em!" he heard the doc shout behind him.

In the ring, Mac smacked two brown paddles on Doc's hands. Moving side-to-side to dodge counterstrikes, he took every opportunity he saw. "Hit it, kid! Hit it!

Pounding a small bag with both hands, Mac heard Doc push him on further. "Faster, faster! Come on, you can do it!"

Grunting with effort, Mac pushed himself off the ground with one arm before lowering himself down again, his other arm tucked behind his back. "Push it out, Mac! Come on, push it out!"

A punching bag rocked with Mac's impacts as he jabbed quick one-twos onto it, his green gloves smacking the black leather surface. "Left-right! Left-right! That's it, baby!"

"Keep it up, Mac! Keep it up!" Doc called from up ahead, riding his bike alongside the city street as Mac, running behind him, did his best to keep up. This one was a numerous exercise, with Mac having practiced this day, night and even in the rain.

Underneath a light in the center of the gym, Mac let loose a flurry of blows onto an imaginary opponent. All the while, Doc's shouts of encouragement rang out.

"Jab, jab!"

"One-two!"

"Faster, faster!"

"Hit 'em, baby!"

"Get serious, kid!

"Smash 'em!"

"Go! Uppercut!"

"Hard punch, Mac! You're looking good!"

"Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee! The hands can't hit what the eyes can't see!"

Growling as he drew himself back, Mac slammed his fist right into the punching bag, sending it flying out of the gym window with the sound of shattering glass.

Flinging off his hoodie, Mac took a deep breath as the music drew to a close. "You did great work, kid," Doc said, removing the tape from the radio and closing it back up. "I'm proud of you."

"Thanks, Doc." Mac breathed, tapping a held-out fist with his own. "I think I could go for some chocolate right about…huh."

His eyes flew to the ground underneath the door to the gym, where a small envelope rested.

"That about the next challenger?" Doc Louis asked as Mac bent down to pick up the envelope. Staring at the insignia on the stamp, Mac narrowed his eyes.

"I don't think so, Doc. This doesn't look like something the WVBA would send. This logo doesn't seem familiar at all…" Opening the envelope, Mac took out the enclosed message and read it.

To Little Mac, the current champion of the World Video Boxing Association

You do not know of us, but we know of you.

We have heard of your boxing skills, and thus believe you to be worthy of joining us. But be warned, the rules of these games are not the rules you know of. But recall your training and succeed you shall.

You were not afraid of your previous opponents, so we doubt that you will be afraid of us. Come to the nearby alley if you wish to join us. If you refuse, such talent will be wasted. But should you accept, glory beyond your current fame will be yours.

You need not worry. You can return here anytime you wish, but when we give out the call, you shall answer it.

Should you accept, take this key and place it in the hidden pedestal. Only then will you be granted access.

We look forward to meeting you, Mac.

Sincerely, the SSB

"SSB?" Mac repeated. "Who are those guys?"

"I don't know, kid," Doc said. "But whatever you gotta do, you gotta do alone. Just remember what I taught you."

"But what about my title?"

"The note said you could come back whenever you want, right? I'll find some way to contact you about another challenger, but until then I'll stay put. Good luck, Mac. See you soon."

"You too, Doc," Mac replied as he exited the gym while carrying his gloves, the note clutched in his hand. Since the note had said "nearby alley", he assumed it meant somewhere close by the gym. He decided to start there.

Mac's initial search came up with nothing, for all he saw was just the normal dumpsters, garbage bags, and brick walls. He was just about to turn back… before he spotted something that seemed out of place.

One of the bricks in a nearby wall was sticking outward like a sore thumb. Curious, Mac moved up to it, examining it closely. He reached out with one finger… and pressed against it.

The brick slid into the wall with a click, and Mac jumped back at the sound. What followed, to his amazement, was the wall separating in half. Like a hidden door.

And beyond that door was a pedestal. No doubt the one mentioned in the letter. Walking up to it, Mac readied the key… and placed it in.

No sooner than he did, the pedestal began to shudder and shake as a blue light shone from inside it. Mac took a cautious step back, his face in a nervous expression.

The pedestal exploded with a loud boom, a blue light enveloping Mac's vision…

"You there. On your feet."

The voice was unfamiliar to Mac. With a groan, he rose to his feet, opened his eyes and strapped on his gloves. Once he had properly adjusted them, he glanced upward.

He was somewhere… also unfamiliar. Floating islands in the clear blue sky, ruined architecture with some covered in foliage, and a red banner containing a symbol of a circle with a cross in it. He definitely wasn't in the city anymore…

"You must be this Little Mac person we sent out for."

The voice came from behind Mac, so he turned behind him… to see an orange armored figure with a red helmet and an arm cannon. The face behind the visor studied him, as far as Mac could tell from its posture.

"Uh, yes," he replied, still taken aback at the figure before him. "That's me. And you would be…"

"Samus Aran," the figure said, the helmet never redirecting its gaze from him. "My intel says you are a champion in your world?"

World? Mac thought to himself, yet he allowed his answer to come clear. "That's right. Champion of the World Video Boxing Association."

"Hmm…" Samus muttered. "You seem to be a little bit on the short side. Why the Announcer sent for you, I don't think I'll ever know."

Short?!

This wasn't the first time Mac had heard of this. Back when he had enlisted in the tournament, officials had laughed at him for his height. He was told he stood no chance at winning a single fight. But he proved them wrong. He proved them all wrong. So this one needed to know exactly who she was messing with.

Curling his fists inside his gloves, Mac felt his face grow red as he slowly drew his arm back. Samus was oblivious to this moment, as she was caught up in her own discussion.

"Most of the fighters are an inch or two above your height, Bowser and Ganondorf even more so. The little guys like Kirby may be strong, but they're easy to send flying. So why should you be any diff-"

THWAM!

Mac threw his fist forward with blink-and-you'll-miss-it speed, connecting hard with Samus' right side. The impact was so strong, Samus was sent soaring through the air and vanishing off the edge of the platform. Mac, meanwhile, was left in shock.

"Did… did I do that?" he whispered, staring at his hand in awe. "I don't think any of my punches were that strong."

"Perhaps I might have underestimated you," Samus replied. Startled, Mac looked up to see the armored figure float down on a hovering circular platform. If he had to guess, it served to return her to safety should she fall (or get knocked off) one of the floating platforms.

"But for now, I need to take you to HQ. Follow me. I'll explain everything on the way."

Later, Samus' Gunship hovered into the hangar and landed, pilot and passenger disembarking immediately afterward. This whole dimension-crossover thing was a little too much for Mac to take in, but fighting whole new opponents? That, he could handle. So that would be what he would focus on.

A pair of doors slid open, allowing Samus and Mac entry into the main lobby. Several of the Smashers were already assembled there, apparently waiting for something… or maybe Mac himself?

"He doesn't seem much like a warrior," Marth commented. "He only fights for sport."

"Yeah? Well, so do we," Captain Falcon responded. "Most of the time."

As Mac's eyes hovered over the crowd, he noticed a vaguely familiar figure staring at him. The big ape grinned and gave him a welcoming thumbs-up.

"Hey, I know that guy!" Mac shouted, pointing at Donkey Kong. "He's one of the challengers I had to defeat!"

"Donkey Kong was sent to test you," Falco told him. "To see if you were truly ready to be one of us. When he came back with bruises and a few missing teeth, we knew you were the next one to fill our roster."

"To be honest here…" Ike began. "I kinda thought you would be one of those Assist Trophy guys."

"Uh, Assist Trophy?" Mac asked, confused.

"They're people that caught the Announcer's attention but aren't worthy enough to join us. So, instead, we call on them for help in battle." Fox explained. "Let's see, there's that purple guy with the tennis racket, the black and red hedgehog, the lightning girl, the armadillo with the cowboy hat, the life-force sucking alien, the pixel army…"

"Popcorn?"

"Gah!" Mac yelped, the voice having come from his side. There, Sonic stood with a bucket in his arms. "Don't do that!"

"Sorry," the hedgehog replied. "It's just that Mario and Bowser are gonna have an old-fashioned throwdown soon. Thought you might wanna join us."

"Pika!" Pikachu added, popping his head out of the bucket, to Sonic's surprise. "Hey! I told you to save some for the rest of us!"

Mac couldn't help but smirk as Sonic ushered the little Pokémon out. He turned to the big screen up above as Samus' voice cut in.

"There's something I think you might want to know. You won't be fighting all your battles personally."

"What do you mean?"

"There are times when a fighter is unable to attend, such as a situation in their own universe. For this, simulated versions of themselves have been created for combat. Each of them takes the form of the same version of the fighter… but from an alternate reality. For example…"

After entering a series of inputs into a console, Samus turned to the now-lit screen. It showed a small sequence of Mario in a red, white, and blue costume saluting with a flag in the background. The image changed to an alternate version of Sonic, wearing blue shoes and blue glowing cuffs, speeding through a futuristic city at night.

"We've found seven alternate simulated forms of each fighter to substitute if the original is not present," Samus explained. "And we're still searching in case of any more newcomers. And as a little something for you, we've created a wireframe version of yourself to also partake in the coming battles."

Fox, listening to something on an earpiece, nodded and ended the transmission. "Show's about to start."

Without further ado, Samus typed in something else on the console. The screen stopped showing footage of the alternate reality fighters… and switched to a view of a boxing ring.

"Hey, that's…" Mac started. "That's the same ring I fought in, right?"

"Yep," Fox confirmed. "But today, it sees more than just guys in gloves punching each other."

The boxer rose an eyebrow at the mercenary's words, but the sound of a pipe rising from the ground made everyone turn their eyes to the screen.

As a mustached figure leaped from the pipe, a spiny monster emerged from flame on the other side of the area. His nostrils flared at the sight of his enemy. Mario's only response was a straight tightening of his hat as the Announcer began the countdown.

"Three… two… one… GO!"

The two charged in a sprint, leaping over the ropes of the ring in a fluid movement. Bowser lunged with a roar, with Mario somersaulting over his old foe and springing himself off the ropes. He stomped down on Bowser's head hard, leaving the Koopa King dazed as the hero landed gracefully and waved to the crowd…

…before noticing something behind him.

He jumped out of the way as a stream of fire roasted the spot where he once was. Diving back into the fray, Mario weaved around Bowser's punches and slid beneath his legs.

Grabbing Bowser by the tail, Mario spun him around and threw him towards the ropes with a quick "Buh-bye!" But as Bowser reached the ropes, the force of the throw caused the ropes to strain against him like a slingshot.

Seeing his chance, Bowser grinned… and curled into a spiky ball just as the ropes let him go. Mario had to duck to avoid the spinning shell.

Uncurling and digging his claws into the ring's surface, Bowser charged again. Mario dashed forward to meet his enemy head-on. The two of them connected with their hands clasping together in a struggle…

…before Mario broke the clash and struck with an overhead headbutt. Raising an arm to block the attack, Bowser countered with a heavy dropkick. Mario was flung back towards a corner of the ring, quickly recovering and sliding to a halt. But just before he could move back in…

A net flung itself over his head.

"Hey! What the?" Sonic gasped, dropping his handful of popcorn back into the bucket.

"Who's that guy?" Falco asked as the camera focused on the newcomer…

…a kid-looking character with a triangular nose, a smile, a number one on his red t-shirt, and a gleam in his eye.

(A/N: I am so, so, so sorry this took longer than I hoped. Turns out I'm not that good at multitasking when it comes to writing. To be honest, I'm not that good at multitasking in general. I just can't seem to do two things at once (unless one of them involves waiting before doing anything else).

Again, I sincerely apologize for everyone who's waited this long. Villager will be in the works soon. And I promise he won't take as long as Little Mac.)