T Plus 2 Days
The cheery voice of the morning radio host on a Top 40 music station roused Falco at 6a.m. on the dot. The avian rolled over in his bed and turned off his alarm. For a few minutes, he lay on his back, checking his phone for the latest e-mails and social media notifications. It was only after that was he able to drag himself out of bed.
"It's Friday," Falco suddenly realized, and smiled.
Friday. The end of the workweek and the beginning of the weekend. Nobody had to go to bed early tonight or wake up early the next day. A day where everyone could smile and pat themselves on the back for a job well done. Falco stretched his limbs, un-muted his TV and jumped into an invigorating shower.
The five minutes of lathering and scrubbing served as a tonic. Falco emerged from the shower, dried himself off, shook the excess water from his feathers, and then washed his face and shaved. He dressed, flung on a flight jacket and had just pulled on his boots when his phone alerted him of an incoming text.
"Marth," he murmured when he checked the text out.
I'm tired of cafeteria food. Some friends and I are eating at Brewster's. U down?
Sure, Falco texted back.
The avian strapped on his watch, made his bed and turned off the TV. Eating at Brewster's, rather than the cafeteria, meant freedom from Mario's gaze. After grabbing up his stuff, Falco was out the door.
It was a short walk to Brewster's Café. Falco was welcomed by the eponymous host upon arrival and directed toward the table where his friends sat. They beamed at him as he arrived and made himself comfortable.
"Right on time!" laughed Marth. "I ordered you your favorite."
"I appreciate that," said Falco. "Hey, guess what? It's Friday."
A chorus of whoops met this remark.
"I wonder if Koopa's gonna throw his party tonight," said Kyle.
"No doubt," said Steve. "He has a thing for living dangerously."
"That's the truth of it," said Koopa as he strode toward the table and sat beside Falco.
"Hey! There he is!" greeted Roy.
"Looks like those three brothers are officially part of your dominion now," said Chase.
"It genuinely touched me to see them so happy," said Koopa. "Now—I suppose you're wondering about the party."
"Uh-huh," chorused everyone.
"Well, I can now tell you that it's gonna be a slumber party," said Koopa, "and it's gonna be next Monday night. Oh, and everyone's invited."
"Monday night? Why not tonight?" asked Dark Pit.
"Because on Monday, two good friends of mine will be returning from vacation," explained Koopa.
"No way. Don't tell me…" said Falco.
"That's right. Ganondorf and Wario," said Koopa. "Yes, Dorf and I ran afoul of some issues in Brawl, but we managed to smooth things over. Boy, am I gonna have some news for him."
"He never liked Luigi, huh?" asked Rolf.
"First, there was Event 51 in Melee, and then those combos. I wish I'd told him about Project Nerf sooner." He gulped down some coffee a waitress had served to him. "I won't be surprised if he heard about it through the grapevine and contributed in secret. And Wario's always had my respect, being the anti-Mario and all. I'm going to meet their train as it pulls into the depot."
"You want any of us to come with you?" asked Kyle.
"Thanks, but no thanks," said Koopa.
So, said Mewtwo, any plans for tonight?
"I don't know about you guys, but I'm going to Shane's housewarming party," said Marth.
"Housewarming party?" asked Falco.
"Didn't you hear? Shane's so excited about his castle that he can't wait to show it off to us," said Marth.
"What about Vince and Manny? Will they host housewarming parties?" asked Stevie.
"That's for them to decide," shrugged Koopa.
"Sounds fun," said Steve. "Do we need to register or anything?"
"He posted a registration form on Miiverse," said Marth. "Registration closes at 5p.m. I'd suggest registering before your matches start."
"Thanks for telling us, Marth," said Falco. "Otherwise, we all would've spent the night cooling our heels, and that's no fun."
"I wanted it to be a surprise," said Marth. "You'll find all the information you need on the document—how to dress, if you need to bring food, things like that."
Chase nodded. "Sounds like my kind of party."
Just then, their food arrived, and they all dug in.
1.1.1
"Excuse me, L?"
Luigi turned. Eden stood there, looking a little nervous.
"Hey," he said.
"Hey," replied Eden. "Do you remember me?"
"Sure, I do," smiled Luigi. "I—I've meant to talk to you."
"Same," Eden said softly. "Look, I'm sorry—about what happened that morning—I didn't know why it had to be me."
Gently, Luigi shushed her. "It isn't your fault," he said. "I don't hold you in any way responsible for anything that's happened. A nerf is a nerf, and I can't do anything about it—except adjust."
"It's been so hard for you lately," Eden observed. "I mean—if there's anything I can do…"
"The best thing you can do is have my back when times get tough," said Luigi. "Can you do that for me, Eden?"
Eden brightened. "Yeah."
"Great," said Luigi. "As long as my friends have my back, my nerf doesn't matter anymore."
"Are you gonna be okay, L?"
Luigi thought it over. "Eventually," he replied. "Thanks for checking up on me."
Eden smiled. "I'm glad I got to talk to you, L."
"I'm glad I got to talk to you, as well," said Luigi.
The two of them shared a hug.
"See you round," said Eden before they parted ways.
1.1.1
After Marth, Falco and the others were finished eating, they strolled from Brewster's to the Smash Mansion, as usual, to look at their schedules.
"When do you think you're gonna fight him?" asked Roy as they filed into the Main Hall.
"I believe that's up to Master Hand," shrugged Falco.
"Don't you want to?" Steve piped up.
"I guess," mumbled Falco.
"You guess? What's the big idea?" Rolf wanted to know.
"Yeah," said Stevie. "What's this really about?"
Falco heaved a huge sigh. "I'm gonna be honest with you guys, because you've been so kind to me," he began. "Truth is, I still feel awful over blowing up at him like that, and I don't know how Luigi will react to being my opponent again."
"You told him the truth," said Marth.
"I could've been nicer about it," said Falco.
"How?" everyone chorused.
"I—I don't know. I just—am I glad he got nerfed? Definitely! Do I feel necessarily great about losing his trust? No."
"You know perfectly well that you had to choose between him and the cause," said Koopa. "You couldn't have both."
"Well, now I wish I could've. I miss him as a friend. He and Mario told me that they could learn to tolerate me again, but that was the day before this patch." Falco wished that his pals could understand. "When Luigi and I got stuck in that elevator together, my first instinct was to make small talk. But Luigi—he was strong enough to take a risk and tell me what he really felt after keeping it sealed in a can for weeks. I don't know about you guys, but I think that's saying something."
You're not alone in that, Falco, thought Chad, hiding nearby.
"Luigi's nerf vindicates me somewhat. But sometimes, I think about his eyes when I said those things to him. Had I talked things out calmly with him, maybe it would've led to a better outcome."
"What happened between you two is regrettable," Chase conceded, "but it brought you to us—and us to you."
"But look at the cost," said Falco. "Every time Mario's name is mentioned, we nearly [bleep] ourselves. Luigi is a stranger to us now—we're afraid to approach him, for fear he'll somehow find out what we did. And our aggressive attitude thus far only got us a tongue lashing from Master Hand. I mean—did we really gain anything from this?"
"Don't be ridiculous," said Stevie. "Of course, we gained something from this! With those stupid combos gone, we gained a better advantage!"
"So you could use Luigi as a punching bag?"
"Obviously," said Steve.
"I wanted Luigi to learn something from this, not suffer from it," said Falco.
"He is learning," snorted Koopa. "The hard way."
A beat.
"Enough of this talk," said Dark Pit. "Let's see what goodies MH has in store for us today."
The tension simmered as the conspirators gathered round the sheet of paper.
Falco sighed. Once again, he'd escaped a match with both Mario Bros. Around him, he heard chuckles as everyone else found Luigi's name somewhere in their lineup. There were more chuckles as a handful of them found Chad's name there, too. The avian didn't know what to feel regarding this. On the one hand, he enjoyed watching Luigi's neat little strategy blow up in his face for once, but on the other hand, he felt like a less honorable fighter by helping perpetuate his nerf.
Out of the corner of his eye, he spied Chad, watching the scene with avid interest.
Their eyes met.
Chad nodded to Falco.
And Falco responded in kind.
An understanding was starting to form between them.
1.1.1
"I'm telling you, the dress is blue with black stripes," said Crazy Hand.
"Dear brother, you are certainly mistaken," Master Hand shot back. "The dress is white with gold stripes."
It was almost lunchtime, and so far, the two Hands had a quiet morning. The Smashers seemed properly chastened by yesterday's little talk, as there were no more reports of Luigi getting a hard time. Still, MH wasn't about to drop his guard anytime soon.
"Your perception of color deceives you," cooed CH. "It's blue with black stripes. I even have a picture of it." He held up a picture of the aforementioned dress.
MH looked at the picture. "How do you know it hasn't been Photoshopped? I possess scientific observations and testimonials that can prove that the dress is white and gold."
"Show-off," huffed CH.
"Well, if you feel that badly about it, we can always get our Smashers' opinions on the subject," offered MH.
"How are we gonna find time to go around asking our Smashers about this dress? Put up a poll on Miiverse?"
"Sounds like a good idea to me," said MH.
A brisk knock sounded.
"Enter," said MH.
Mario walked in, fresh from a match. He was sweaty and banged up, a cut over his right eyebrow.
"Ah, Mario, thank goodness!" CH said breathily. Holding out the photo, he queried, "What color is this dress?"
Mario's eyes twinkled, and he smiled. "It's white and gold, of course!"
"D—mit!" hissed CH.
"Don't feel so bad," MH assured his twin.
"Okay," sulked CH. "I'm gonna get something to eat. You want anything?"
"I'll just have a Master Burger and fries," said MH, "and a large Diet Coke. You want anything, Mario?"
"I'm craving a bacon cheddar burger with some onion rings and a raspberry smoothie," said Mario. "To go. This won't take long."
CH wrote everything down on a piece of paper. "All right. I'll be back, bearing the grub!" he sang out before teleporting away.
MH sat back in his chair. "What can I do for you, Mario?" he asked.
"I just wanna know how the investigation's coming," said Mario.
"It's going well. I've sent word to Sakurai and his team requesting an interview on the matter."
Mario blinked. "You think he knows something?"
"His eagerness to approve a nerf on Luigi sounds suspicious."
"When he came to visit," said Mario. "I sensed something, too. But I just didn't want to rock the boat. Earlier, I'd allowed myself to let go of my anger at Falco. My primary focus was being there for my bro—and it still is."
"I couldn't help but noticed that he's using his down throw less frequently," said MH.
"That's a wise move on his part," said Mario. "Putting it aside for a while will do something about that muscle memory."
"Muscle memory?"
"He's done those old combos for so long…"
"He still needs to get used to it."
Mario nodded. "There's something else," he said softly. "I have a favor to ask of you."
"Fire away," said MH.
"I would like to know the names of the people who complained about Luigi all month long," Mario said in an unsettlingly polite tone.
MH blinked. "I'm sorry—are you being funny?"
"Do I look like I'm being funny?"
MH stared. "Mario Jumpman, I'm surprised at you. You know perfectly well that I'm not at liberty to disclose that information."
"Then can you at least direct me to someone who can?"
"Mario," said MH. "When Smashers come to me with complaints or suggestions, confidentiality is automatically guaranteed. You're asking me to break that confidence in the name of what I can assume to be petty revenge. Wha—what do you want with those names, anyway?"
"Luigi and I deserve to know who suggested something like this," Mario said evenly. "If you suspect that someone willingly subverted this tournament to hurt one of us, then wouldn't you feel the same way?"
"I'd do everything in my power to find them and see that they're justly punished," said MH.
"Then can you at least understand how I feel?"
"Sure, I can. It's not like I don't understand. It's just what you're asking me to do violates everything I believe in."
"He's been through so much," sighed Mario. "Falco, a good friend of his, turned on him, simply because he lost a match. He's knelt outside your door, listening to many of his opponents have a cow. And now he's enduring harassment and trash-talking, because they think his nerf is a shield. You're the powerful Hand of Creation, and yet you capitulated to these salty complainants."
"If my Smashers point out something amiss, then it's my duty to address it."
"My brother's combos were considered a blight because they made it that way," Mario said, with some heat. "This has to be a personal vendetta."
"We don't know that it's personal yet," MH said, softly and patiently. "When the issue was brought to my attention, I had to treat it as a valid concern. All concerns regarding tournament mechanics must be corrected. No Smasher should have too much of an advantage over another."
"The tournament's 'fair and balanced' rhetoric and people's conniptions over a specific Smasher's playstyle are merely two ends of the same snake," said Mario. "No matter which end you pick up, you still grab a snake."
"You get no argument from me there," said MH, "but you must remember that one end of the snake will bite." He spread his fingers. "Again, I understand what you and Luigi must be going through, but what you're asking of me can't be done."
"I understand," Mario said after a beat.
CH warped back in with the food.
"Order up!" he announced. "By the way, I talked to the guy manning the cash register, and he says that the dress is blue and black."
He set the food on MH's desk, and Mario took the white paper bag with his name written on it. "It's still warm," he mused, opening the bag and popping an onion ring into his mouth.
Rising from his chair, he added, "Thank you for your time. I'll see you round." Smiling cordially, he shook both Hands' pointer fingers, took his food and left.
"So," said CH. "What did he want?"
"Trust me," sighed MH. "You don't want to know."
1.1.1
The SUV pulled up to the loading zone in front of the high school. Slinging on his backpack, Ethan waved goodbye to his friends and hopped into the backseat, next to Anna, who'd been picked up from the elementary school several minutes prior.
"Hey, lil' sis," said Ethan, kissing Anna on the cheek. "How'd your day go?"
"Super-duper," chirped Anna. "Minimum days are fun!"
"Aren't they?" sighed Ethan.
Vanessa sat at the wheel, observing her kids through the rearview mirror. "Did you two behave yourselves?"
"Yes, Mom."
"All right. We'll go home so you can drop off your backpacks and—do you have any homework?"
Ethan rolled his eyes. "Mom, it's Friday. The teachers normally don't assign homework on Fridays."
"I don't have any homework, either," said Anna.
"Then after you drop off your backpacks, what do you say to—a trip to the Smash mansion?" asked Vanessa.
"Yay!" squealed Anna.
"I'm down," said Ethan, "but I'd like to take a shower first. I stink."
"Very well," said Vanessa. "Remember, though, one scene, and we go straight home."
"Don't worry, Mom," said Ethan. "We'll behave ourselves."
He leaned out the window and called out to his friends as the SUV drove away. "See you next month, guys!"
His friends waved and called out after him.
"Isn't this great, Anna?" chortled Ethan as he put his arm around his baby sister. "We get the whole month to ourselves!"
Anna smiled, leaning into the embrace. She was enjoying the new Ethan. The boy of one month ago used to mercilessly tease her because she was better at playing as Luigi in Smash. But following his brief suspension from school, Ethan had grown out of those habits. He was a Mario fan, after all, and wasn't Mario the best big brother ever? Ethan had resolved to be more like his hero once his suspension was lifted, and he was keeping to that resolution so far.
Vanessa was also looking forward to the coming month. Sure, the kids were off track, but the family could spend more quality time together. Thanks to the update patch, Ethan showed a greater interest in mastering Luigi and was less inclined to get frustrated when he lost. They could also go on brief trips out of town whenever Theo was off from work. His job was the usual 9 to 5 schedule, and he had the weekends off. He'd even sweet-talk his boss into leaving early on Friday, with varying degrees of success.
Mother, son and daughter were in high spirits, singing along to tunes on the radio throughout the drive home.
1.1.1
90 minutes later, Vanessa, Ethan and Anna drove to the Smash Mansion, the kids dressed in fresh clothes. After obtaining visitors' passes, the trio headed to the cafeteria for a quick bite to eat.
The Smashers were already having their lunch when the three arrived.
Vanessa's face lit up when she saw that familiar blonde hair. "Hey, Peach!" she cried.
Peach turned, and her eyes sparkled with recognition. "Vanessa!"
The two women shared a big hug, and Peach gave Vanessa a peck on the cheek.
"How've you been?" asked Peach.
"Better, now that Ethan's behaving himself," smiled Vanessa.
The Mushroom Princess's eyes fell on the two children. "Shouldn't you be in school?" she asked.
"Today was a minimum day," said Ethan.
"Track change," explained Vanessa. "They have this month off. That's gonna be fun."
"Yeah, I'll bet," said Peach. "Come and sit with us. There's plenty of room."
Lunch was a choice of grilled cheese or hot dogs with a side of fries, a salad bar, a beverage bar and a dessert bar. Ethan got a hot dog, Anna got grilled cheese, and Vanessa made herself a salad. They sat in the spaces Peach offered them and began to chow down.
"Hey, kids," Mario greeted them. "Nice to see you again."
"Same here," Anna said cheerfully.
"Yeah," said Ethan, a little distractedly. He was an avid Mario fan, but he had words with the portly plumber after Luigi defeated him in an intense bout on Mario Galaxy. The teen felt guilty for what he'd said to Mario, and Mario had been pretty upset over the incident. Even now, watching Ethan take careful bites of his hot dog, eyes fixed on the tray, Mario remembered how the kid screamed all sorts of abuse in his direction, threw things at him, and even took swings at him. The following day, Vanessa had made him apologize, but it had sounded reluctant and forced. Weeks later, Ethan wanted to make things right with his idol. He just had to figure out how.
"So—you're on break from school?" asked Mario.
"Yup. We earned it," Ethan said casually.
"Just don't spend your break aggravating your mom, yeah?"
"Of course not," smiled Anna.
"Enough talk about us," said Ethan, testing the waters. "Let's talk about you. How've you been?"
"Just like the other Smashers—trying to adjust to the new patch," said Mario. "Thanks for asking, though."
"That's okay—we're trying to adjust, too," said Vanessa. "I still can't believe they made a stage out of Super Mario Maker."
"Hey—they can make a stage out of any game these days," said Mario.
Laughter.
Anna's eyes slowly fell on Luigi, absorbed in browsing through his smartphone while methodically chewing his sandwich.
"Hey," she said softly.
"Hm?" he asked.
"You okay?"
"Yeah. I'm fine, Anna. Thanks for asking," said Luigi, but Anna wasn't so sure.
It was Ethan's turn to gaze at Luigi, and what he saw startled him. The plumber continued to munch on his sandwich and play around with his phone, but his eyes—they always said that eyes were the windows to the soul, and this was no different here. And in Luigi's bright blue eyes, Ethan saw that these past few days hadn't treated him nicely. Guilt pierced him like thousands of shards of glass, leaving small cuts under the skin.
"Yeah, I meant to ask," said Vanessa. "How's the transition coming for you?"
"It's not easy," said Luigi. "It never is. But I'm learning. I've clocked in more hours than usual in the Training Room. It's in an actual fight where I run into problems. My muscle memory kicks in, and it messes me up. I need to un-learn the old combos before I can start applying the new ones."
"New ones?" asked Ethan.
"Yeah," said Luigi. "After coming to terms with my nerf, I realized that I could use it to make new combos. Where do you think my old ones came from in the first place? They didn't just fall out of the sky one day. I had to create them myself and practice them. That's how I've become more of a viable fighter."
"The combos or the practicing?" asked Anna.
"Both, but more so with the practicing," said Luigi. "Without the practice, I wouldn't have had the old combos to begin with. And with more practicing, I'll be able to utilize the new combos. Not all of my combos originated from my down throw. I have other combo tools I can pull out of my proverbial pocket."
Vanessa nodded. "You're gonna get through this, L. You just need to have faith in yourself."
"Yeah. Good luck, L," said Ethan. "Maybe I'll start maining you after unraveling your mysteries."
"I'd like that," Luigi said quietly.
As they continued eating, Vanessa remembered the words she'd said to her husband on the morning the new patch went live.
I fear that all we've accomplished is to awaken a sleeping giant…
1.1.1
He slipped below the surface of the bath, holding onto the edge of the tub for support. The thing he liked most about this was the silence. All of the sounds around him subdued or muffled. And he also felt as if this bath was washing his own thoughts away.
The image of Luigi in his arms swam before his closed eyes before dissolving into a series of images of Luigi in battle, red-faced, sweaty, determined. Eyes bright, mouth rounded, breathing steadily in and out. Images which clicked through Mario's mind like a viewfinder. Invigorating coolness surrounded him, sloshing in his ears and lapping at the back of his neck, and yet the images of his baby bro kept him hot. Those images dissolved yet again into images of sneering faces and scornful laughter and mocking smirks, of glasses clashing together in toasts and greedy eyes watching Luigi fail. And then those images swirled away, replaced with images of bruises, bloody noses and lips, cuts and lacerations and tears. Images which dissolved one last time into an image of Master Hand, floating imposingly, slowly shaking his head "no".
What you're asking of me can't be done.
A thrill of cold shot through him, and his eyes snapped open. Of course, what he could see was blurred, due to being immersed in water. He stayed perfectly still, listening to his heart rate slow down, waiting for the bath to wash his anger away. MH said he understood what Mario was feeling, but did he, really? Didn't he also have a brother? Okay, CH had an unpredictable streak to him, but he was MH's blood nonetheless. Wouldn't he come to CH's aid if he was in trouble? Well, Luigi was being antagonized because his old combos didn't work anymore, and he was having trouble adjusting to the new mechanics. And Mario was just doing his duty—protecting his baby brother. His feeling that this patch was part of a conspiracy had increased, and all he wanted to do was narrow down the list of suspected conspirators.
He knew Falco had a hand in this. And Koopa being a suspect was a no-brainer. And several Smashers, like Marth, Roy, Mewtwo, Dark Pit, Kyle, Rolf, Chase and the two Steves, were avoiding Luigi lately. There was something they were keeping from him, and Mario was going to find out what sooner or later.
As his body shifted under the bathwater, it occurred—Luigi wasn't sitting around and sulking, so why should he? It was time for him to think about the positives. First and foremost being that Luigi never gave up. He went into his fights knowing about his nerf, and yet he faced down his opponents anyway, fighting to the best of his ability. He'd managed to give a pretty good fight before going down. Mario shouldn't count that out. Or how amazing it felt to watch him, trudging and struggling on, refusing to get frustrated, unlike his opponents whenever they were at a disadvantage. And he didn't lose all of his bouts, just most of them. Now that he'd temporarily set aside his down throw, his mind would have time to breathe, and it would be easier to put those new combos into practice. He remembered the sight of his brother in the Training Area on the day of the nerf, pummeling Sandbags. After a good cry that morning, he was ready to get back into the game. He wasn't thinking about the people who presumably got him nerfed—was he?
He broke the surface of the bathwater with a small gasp, hoisting himself into a sitting position, knees tucked slightly in. Mario glanced at the clock. Matches were about to resume, and he needed to get ready.
Carefully, he stepped out of the bath, drained the tub, and dried himself off before combing and brushing his hair and dressing in clean clothes. As he emerged into his bedroom, Mario suddenly realized that he was no longer alone.
The portly plumber flattened himself against the wall and inched forward, picking up his trusty hammer along the way. Creeping closer, he saw the man, nonchalantly leafing through his things. He recognized the fellow—he and his three buddies had been on his tail since yesterday. What could he possibly be looking for?
Mario advanced on the man, hammer raised. He took a preparatory breath.
And then he pounced.
Timmy barely managed to guard his face in time, receiving a glancing blow to his right arm, the force sending him stumbling. Casting his hammer aside, Mario punched the intruder in the solar plexus once—twice—three times, until Timmy was slumped over in pain. Swiftly, the plumber grappled with him, tossing him onto the bed and straddling his hips, pinning him.
"Good to see you, too, M," groaned Timmy.
"I must say, I'm impressed," Mario said softly, stroking the other man's jaw with his thumb.
Timmy chuckled.
"You've got a lot of nerve, breaking in here," Mario went on. "I'm going to give you about thirty seconds to tell me exactly what in the Inferno you think you're doing in my room."
"I'm afraid that's classified," Timmy said coolly.
"Yeah. That's what they always say," said Mario.
"A little birdie told me that you want to know who's complained to MH about your brother last month," said Timmy.
"That's right," cooed Mario, "and I'm not about to let this go anytime soon."
"I believe you."
"One last thing—why have you and your friends been following me?"
Timmy laughed. "All I have to say is—you're a very good-looking man, and that you should do the math."
Mario couldn't help but blush at the remark.
"You know, Mario, if my friends and I were to follow you around—properly—then you'd never f—in' know," grinned Timmy.
Mario smiled sweetly at him. "Well—good luck with that," he said.
He climbed off of Timmy and hauled him to his feet. "When your friends ask you what happened here this afternoon, tell them that Nintendo's mascot isn't f—ing around anymore."
"I'll make sure they get the message," Timmy said calmly. "I'll see myself out, if you don't mind."
1.1.1
"Isn't it strange how we keep running into each other?" asked Chad as he and Charlie met up in the stands.
"Well, we are Smashers," said Charlie. "It's a given that we'll cross paths frequently."
Chad grinned like a fool. "Uh—is it okay if I sit here? The front row's usually the best."
"Sure," said Charlie.
Carefully, Chad settled himself into his seat. "Listen," he began. "There's something—I forgot to tell you the morning we met. Something…" He sighed. "…something I think you should know."
Charlie looked nervous. "What is it?" she asked.
Chad took a deep breath and blurted it out.
"I forgot to tell you that I'm a major Castlevania fan."
"Castlevania?! No way!" gushed Charlie. "I've absolutely heard of that game!" Then, her face fell. "And there's something I need to confess to you, too."
"Er—okay."
"You know the protagonist of the first game, Simon Belmont?"
"I do."
"Well, I used to have a crush on him," blushed Charlie.
"A crush on Simon Belmont? That's understandable," shrugged Chad. "I mean, who wouldn't crush on Simon? He's totally f—in' ripped! And he wears that tunic and shows off those thighs! Man, a body like that is to die for!"
"You sound like you've crushed on him, too," said Charlie.
"Well—kinda," confessed Chad.
"And let me tell you something else—I actually had the pleasure of meeting him," Charlie said excitedly.
"No—way."
"Way. At a Castlevania convention in Pittsburgh, PA. Along with a few other members of the Belmont clan."
"Richter? Trevor? Alucard? Maria?"
"Just Richter and Maria." Charlie smiled at the memory. "There was a QA panel, and I had so many questions that I had to pick the most gnawing one. Afterwards, there was time for autographs and photo ops. One of these days, I'll show you the pictures."
"Wow," said Chad. "I've really missed a lot. Did—Dracula show up, by any chance?"
"No, silly. Dracula hates light, remember? But it would've been interesting, watching the Belmont clan battle their sworn enemy."
"I take it Death's invitation also got lost in the mail?"
"Yup. He's always scared the heck out of me."
"How about the other monsters? Did they pop out and scare anyone? Any mummies? Medusa? Carmilla, perhaps, with her tears of blood?"
"I wish," said Charlie. "Like I said, they don't like lit up environments. They prefer to slink around castles and dungeons and the like. And I stayed in touch with Simon and Richter after the convention. We've exchanged letters, and later e-mails, and most recently, we're following each other on social media." Smiling, she concluded, "I'm a Castlevania fan as well as a Luigi fan."
"You know, the Smash Ballot's still online," said Chad. "Just put Simon's name, or Richter's name, or both, on there, and there's a chance MH will make things happen."
"My God, you read my mind!" gasped Charlie.
They turned as Luigi appeared on the appointed stage. Chad couldn't help but remember their talk yesterday afternoon. He'd come so close to confessing, and Crazy Hand had probably sensed that, hence his summoning to the office. Worse yet, he'd probably left Luigi with more questions, rather than closure over the way he used to act, what with the abrupt manner in which he'd taken his leave. Once he got CH off his back, Chad would try again.
"Hey," Charlie piped up. "What if Luigi wound up in one of those castles?"
"Hm? Oh, you mean Dracula's castle?"
"Yeah! That would be so cool! I think Luigi would handle himself quite well in that situation."
"It would make for an interesting crossover, but you're forgetting one thing," warned Chad.
"What's that?"
"Luigi is used to fighting ghosts, not monsters," said Chad. "That nifty gadget on his back will be next to useless against Dracula and his minions. There's no other way to say it. In Dracula's Castle, Luigi will be a fish out of water. He probably won't last very long."
"Wow," said Charlie. "Never would've thought that. Well, hopefully, Luigi won't have to set foot in that castle."
"I'm keeping my fingers crossed on that, too," said Chad.
Lauren and Eden scurried over, quickly taking their seats.
"We're not late, are we?" gasped Lauren.
"Nope, you're just in time," Charlie assured her.
The two friends slumped in relief.
"Oh, hey, Chad," said Eden.
"Hey," replied Chad.
"Crazy few days, huh?"
"Say that again. We've never had an update patch like this before."
"Poor L's taken the brunt of it, but he's handling it well enough," said Lauren.
"Hey, uh, Chad and I were just talking about the possibility of including the Castlevania universe in this tournament," said Charlie. "What do you guys think?"
"Castlevania? Absolutely! I'd love to hang with those Belmont hunks!" gushed Eden. "Maybe L can bond with them, too, seeing they have a common interest."
"Simon and Richter fight monsters. Luigi fights ghosts," said Chad. "That's a very big difference."
Lauren paled. "I hope Luigi doesn't run afoul of any of those monsters, then," she said. "Especially Death. One slice of his scythe, and it's game over."
"You don't have to tell me," said Charlie, with a small shudder.
As the match got underway, everyone groaned as Luigi's opponent commenced their usual grandstanding. Making a big show of dodging Luigi's attacks and grab attempts and making snide comments rather than taking the opportunity to counterattack. As Lauren said, Luigi handled it pretty well. Better yet, he practically ignored it. Not a muscle twitched on his face as insults continued to be spat in his direction. While the opponent just stood there, mouthing off, he reminded them that talking wasn't a free action in a Smash battle. He hoped that taking a few punches or kicks would sober them up. Boy, was he wrong.
But he kept going, baiting his opponent into making punishable mistakes, turning their cockiness into a weapon against them. Even Luigi's harshest detractors were left speechless, watching him maneuver fluidly and acrobatically about the stage and batter his foe with swift sneak attacks. He was definitely rebuilding his strategy from the bottom up. Perhaps the opponent should lay off on the taunting and take notice.
The remainder of Luigi's attacks still packed a lot of hurt, and his breakdance kick had gotten a miniscule buff. His opponents following the patch had found this out the hard way and had the audacity to act shocked, as if he'd relied on his down throw alone. He didn't win most of his fights so far, but he didn't lose without leaving bruises on them. That was what Luigi's focus was on, wiping the smirks off of everyone's faces, rather than winning.
Until he had a better grip on his new combos, Luigi's strategy was a mix of defense, offense and stealth. Most of his foes, especially this one, only wanted to get back at him for the times he'd defeated them using his old combos. That was all right. They were so distracted by revenge that they barely saw him coming. He'd weave in, slam punches and Smash attacks into the solar plexus or abdomen and dance back out before they even realized what had happened. He'd jump over and around them, dealing flurries of f-airs as he went. They'd swing at him, but he'd simply shield or dodge. The best they could do was grab him, slam him around and toss him about, but he recovered swiftly and used his Golden Leg to even the score. When he wasn't whaling on them with f-airs, u-airs, b-airs and other swift but sharp attacks, then he was whaling on them with Smash attacks, followed by a Cyclone or a back throw. Throwing them around usually gave him time to compose himself before dashing back in. And to take a stock, he'd either let himself fly with a Misfire or take his chances with a Super Jump Punch. Or simply kick them off the ledge with his down taunt.
It was when the opponent was on their last stock that things began to change.
Up till now, the advantage had teeter-tottered. When the opponent wasn't preening for the crowd, they could hit hard. Luigi had been winded twice, and the doubts and teasing nearly caught up to him. But he'd steeled himself upon hearing Mario's voice and seeing the faces in the stands that hadn't given up on him. He steadied his breathing and kept going. He held on, and now he had a chance of winning.
Luigi fought with greater and greater agility. His foe would knock him out of the air, but he just got right back up. The flustered opponent hurled dares and invective at him, but once again, the plumber didn't even bat an eyelash. He continued pelting them with blows and jumping out of the way when they swiped at him, kicking them off their feet whenever they managed to send him to the floor. And when he broke free from a grab, it happened.
As the opponent stared in shock, Luigi hit them sharply with a u-tilt—and then followed up with an up smash.
It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
"Wow…" gasped Mario.
"Did he just…?" asked Chad.
"I think he did," said Lauren.
Luigi had little time to think about it, for the opponent was barreling at him again. He rolled aside, kicked low, grabbed them, threw them skyward, flip-kicked them twice and then did a Cyclone.
Throwing caution to the wind, the opponent charged at Luigi again. He took a deep breath, and then—
Up tilt. And up smash.
He couldn't believe it. He actually pulled off one of his new combos! It wasn't a big one, but it was a good start.
On the other side of the stands, Vince and his brothers' eyes were bugging out of their heads.
"Holy…" said Manny.
"Never would've thought that," said Falco.
"They're coming back, you guys!" shouted Peach. "His combos are coming back!"
The spectators went crazy, cheering at the top of their lungs. Luigi smiled, bolstered by this show of support. His foe, meanwhile, seemed to realize that now they were in bad trouble.
Flustered, the opponent swung. Luigi sidestepped.
And up tilt. And—up smash.
That was a good takeoff point. He could follow it up with a string of aerials or a Cyclone. It wasn't much, but he could build from that.
The two Steves exchanged disbelieved looks.
"No way is this happening," grumbled Steve.
But it was. It was. Luigi continued to fine-tune the up tilt to up smash combo into a jumping off point with different branches. He'd often substitute the up smash for a kick if the opponent managed to jump away.
In his spot in the middle seat of the first row, Mario gazed at the action with nothing but love in his eyes. His lil' bro was picking himself back up, bit by bit, and he could never be happier. The portly plumber's heart began to race as Luigi played around some more with the up tilt to up smash maneuver, seeing what other moves he could follow up with. Mostly aerials, but there were times he could sneak a Cyclone in. One of the follow-ups he could really hammer in was a fast-falling d-air to a n-air. His foe, meanwhile, was running about like a chicken with its head cut off. A hard punch could stop them in their tracks long enough to pull off the up tilt, up smash starter. The silence so far was only broken up by the sound of his steady breaths. They were all drinking in what he was doing. Let them.
It was a small victory on Chad's part, as well. Thirty days of sneaking around, all for nothing. He imagined the looks on the two Steves' faces at that moment. They surely weren't smirking now.
But now that Luigi was starting to recover from the nerf, how would he react once Chad told him the truth? It was something he didn't want to do, but it had to be done. Otherwise, it would haunt him until his dying day. Somehow, he had to break free of CH and do the right thing.
"I guess that nerf wasn't as damaging as we thought," said Charlie, breaking him out of his thoughts.
"No," said Chad, a small smile materializing on his face. "It wasn't."
"See, Mario? It's not gonna be so bad," chirped Lauren.
Mario nodded, still transfixed by the ongoing bout.
Eventually, Luigi lost. But it didn't matter anymore. All that mattered was that the man in green was starting over.
1.1.1
Later that afternoon, Chad was relaxing in his room, reading a novel. He planned to invite Luigi over tonight after dinner. And as everyone else slept, the New Englander would confess everything. There was never a confession easier to arrange. How Luigi would react to said confession—now, that was a different story.
Unfortunately for him, a certain floating hand had other plans.
Chad didn't notice that Crazy Hand had entered his room until he looked up from his reading. The Hand of Destruction floated leisurely above him, his fingers gently wriggling.
"Mmm, good book," said CH. "I still can't believe that the cousin did it."
"I believe my door was locked," said Chad.
"I didn't have to use the door," CH smartly replied.
"Look, what do you want now?" Chad demanded of CH.
"To share some news," said CH. "Shane's throwing a housewarming party tonight."
"Housewarming party? I thought he already had a place to stay."
"He, along with his brothers, now owns a castle in the Dark Lands."
"Koopa," realized Chad.
"That's right," said CH. "I hope you have your best suit ready, because I'd like you to go to that party."
"Sorry, CH, I've already made plans for the night," said Chad. "If you need a date, then you're gonna have to ask someone else." He went back to reading his novel.
Seconds later, the book was ripped from him and balanced on CH's index finger. As Chad watched in horror, an aura of dark magic enveloped the book, reducing it into a useless husk.
"You idiot!" snapped Chad. "That was on loan from the library!"
"Too bad for you," CH sang out. "And another thing—I wasn't inviting you to Shane's party."
CH flicked his fingers at the door, which opened to reveal the two Steves, wearing black leather gloves. Matching smirks were on their faces as they stepped toward Chad.
"Come back for second helpings, have you?" asked Chad. He rose to his feet and put up his dukes. "Well, come on, then. Give it your best shot. I'm sure Eden will love to know how you disregarded her warnings!"
"Now, that I can't allow," said CH, also floating toward Chad.
Bravely, Chad swung. CH ducked and then grabbed the young man in his palm, squeezing relentlessly. The pain was unbearable, but Chad wasn't about to give up. He bit down hard on CH's finger, causing the hand to spring open in pain. Chad landed on the floor and then somersaulted back into a fighting stance.
"Come on, man! I'm not afraid of you!" he cried.
"I know," said CH, having recovered from the bite.
Before Chad could react, CH magically bound his hands and feet and pinned him to a wall.
"Hey! You don't fight fair!" snapped Chad, struggling against the magical bonds.
"What's the fun in that?" asked CH as the two Steves strode forward, cracking their knuckles. "Now, let's try this again. You are going to the party tonight, yes?"
"[Bleep] you," hissed Chad.
"I knew you'd say that," said CH. To the two Steves, he said, "Have at him."
Quickly, the two Steves advanced on the bound man, grinning sadistically.
"This is for yesterday, old pal," hissed Steve before landing the first blow.
Starbursts exploded before Chad's eyes, and he heard something crack, but he didn't cry out. Nor did he cry out as Steve and Stevie punched him over and over, CH taking a seat on the bed and watching casually, munching on buttered popcorn from a bowl beside him. At first, the blows landed randomly, until Chad's attackers grew tired of playing and decided to cause some serious pain, unleashing barrages of punches all over the body. Even then, Chad refused to scream or show any sign of fear or weakness.
"How about now, Chad?" asked CH. "Are you going to be a good boy and go to the party?"
"Go [bleep] yourself," Chad managed to say.
"Your funeral," said CH as the two Steves slid on some brass knuckles.
Harder punches met already damaged flesh, yet Chad remained firm. CH impassively watched the man take it all, moving only to shovel more handfuls of popcorn into his mouth. Chad's clothes were practically shredded, cuts and gashes littering his face and body. He was bruised and swollen, blood pouring from his mouth. And he still didn't make a sound.
"We're losing patience," Stevie hissed in Chad's ear.
Chad replied by spitting a mouthful of blood in his face.
Steve socked him so hard that his vision blurred. "CH will get his way sooner or later," he said, "so it might as well be sooner."
They whipped off the brass knuckles, and CH proceeded to telekinetically smash Chad into anything hard in sight, even dunking his head into a toilet and giving him a swirlie. Then, he ground Chad's face against a wall before sending him to the floor in front of the two Steves. They kicked and stomped him as he tried to inch himself away, eventually giving up and just laying there.
The beating continued for what felt like hours, and by the time the two Steves stopped to catch their breath, Chad was covered in bruises and bleeding heavily. CH waved the two away and then floated over to where Chad lay.
"Last chance, Chad," he said sweetly. "You're going to go to the party with me, yes?"
Chad groaned. "Go to Hell."
CH flexed his fingers, causing an unseen force to assail Chad's nerves. He writhed in agony and drooled on the carpet, yet the only sound the Hand of Destruction managed to get from him was a mere grunt.
It was fifteen more minutes of this Hell before Chad finally gave up.
"You win," he said.
"I'm sorry, what was that?" asked CH, floating next to Chad's ear.
"You win, d—mit! I'll go!" spat Chad. "I'll go to the f—in' party!"
CH grinned brightly. "Now that's more like it," he said, releasing Chad from his magical bonds and casting his healing power on him.
Once he was healed, Chad sat up and got to his feet. "You're a f—ing psychopath, you know that?!" he growled.
"Well, duh. I'm the Hand of Destruction," giggled CH. "You will meet me at the Main Entrance at a quarter to seven sharp, where my limo will drive us to Shane's house. And I want you to know that you will be under very close observation during the party. If you so much as look at anyone in a manner that upsets them or arouses suspicion, then I'm picking up the phone and I'm dialing you-know-who."
"You don't have to remind me," said Chad.
"Good. I'm glad we understand each other," said CH. "See you tonight."
The two Steves waved mockingly at Chad as they followed CH out.
Once the door slammed after them, Chad collapsed onto his bed. "Oh, God," he gasped. "Oh, God. Please, help me. Help me."
1.1.1
Shane opened his doors to his party guests at around 6:30 that evening. He didn't enforce a dress code, but everyone who showed up cleaned up nicely. Vanessa, for example, was clad in a sparkling green chiffon dress with no back and a slit up her thigh. Anna was dressed a little more conservatively in a purple, short-sleeved dress with poufy shoulders. Theo and Ethan wore matching, three-piece suits with combed-back hair. Falco arrived in a simple yet elegant tuxedo and bow tie, a cocktail dress-clad Kat on his arm. Koopa wore a bombastic tuxedo with an equally bombastic top hat. Marth and Roy were dressed up as if for royal court, their respective divine swords on their hips. Dark Pit wore a pimped out tunic and cape. Kyle wore a business suit and tie. Mewtwo showed up in a frilly dress shirt, slacks and a blazer. Chase wore a white shirt, a silver vest and a red tie. Steve and Stevie wore matching suits. And Rolf was clad in a black and silver ensemble.
Shane, along with his co-hosts, Manny and Vince, had their hair elegantly slicked back and were dressed in similar three-piece suits. Vince's tie was navy blue with white stars on it, Manny's tie was turquoise with pink stripes and Shane's tie was purple with light blue polka dots. They welcomed their guests at the door and hooked them up with name tags and special badges so that they could go in and out of the house as they pleased. They all sat in the living room, sipping on sweet wine and playing Smash on Shane's Wii-U console as they waited for everyone else to arrive.
Most of them simply picked a CPU Luigi as their opponent and set the difficulty to the lowest level so they could whale on him without consequence. Those who weren't playing crowded around, cheering, laughing and shouting instructions and encouragement. Falco, Marth, Roy, Rolf and Dark Pit managed to snag two turns in a row at this. The two Steves set up a two-on-one Team Battle against the CPU Luigi and spent countless minutes punching him into oblivion. Even Koopa got in several turns, slamming the CPU of one of his sworn enemies around and pounding him with his crushing attacks. Vanessa and her family were the only ones who didn't do this, and they actually looked slightly sickened as they watched.
"All right, turn that off," said Shane. "Time to save some of that energy."
Groans sounded, and shoulders sagged, but the guests obediently powered off the console. It was Shane's property, after all. In truth, he was getting a little tired of watching his friends beat up a CPU version of the man in green, as were his brothers. It was something they used to enjoy, but not anymore. Maybe because of what they saw that afternoon. Who knew? Luigi was growing on the trio, and there was no denying it.
Finally, Crazy Hand floated in to a standing ovation. Behind him trailed Chad, his injuries perfectly healed, his hair freshly washed and styled in curls which bounced against the nape of his neck. He wore a purple dress shirt, a dark purple tie, black slacks, black socks, black shoes and a black blazer. A 14K gold watch sparkled on his non-dominant wrist, and the aroma of expensive cologne radiated from him.
The room fell silent as everyone drank Chad in. Hazel eyes evenly met the gazes of the party guests, as if to say, "Hey, I'm here—deal with it."
"Hello," said CH. "I hope you don't mind, but Chad was more than happy to accompany me to this get-together. Weren't you, Chad?"
"Oh, yes," replied Chad.
"Welcome back, Chad," said Shane. "Long time, no see. What do you think of my new digs?"
"Pretty awesome," replied Chad.
"Glad you could make it, Chad," said Falco.
"Yeah," said Theo. "We really missed you."
"I missed you guys, too," replied Chad.
A latecomer bearing a resemblance to the three brothers waltzed into the room, bringing along a gorgeous woman in a sky blue party dress. "Hey, Shane!" he called. "I caught the red-eye as soon as I got the news. Congrats, man!"
"Thanks!" replied Shane. To his guests, he said, "You guys remember Stuart, right? Our brother—he used to be a Smasher."
"Sure, we remember him!" laughed Falco. "Nice to see you, buddy! Sorry you got the heave-ho!"
"Pah, we needn't talk about that," said Stuart. "It's water under the bridge, and I bear MH no ill will. I've spent my time traveling and thinking about what I've done, and if MH will have me, I'd like a second chance. But really, Luigi's down throw was nerfed?"
"It was," Vince said proudly.
"Gee, that's a relief. Those combos were driving me crazy!" huffed Stuart. "But guys, now that I've had time to think—was antagonizing Luigi really the best idea? I mean, no matter what I threw at him, he just kept getting back up."
His brothers were speechless. He made a very good point.
"That's—what I've wanted to talk to you all about," said Vince. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but—my bros and I have observed Luigi in the days following the nerf and—I have no words to describe how breathtaking he is on the battlefield."
Murmurs.
"At first, he stumbled. He kept getting beat, and I enjoyed it. But by and by, I stopped enjoying it. I started getting the feeling that most were taking it a bit too far." He threw a meaningful look at a few Smashers. "Then, he started giving his down throw a break and utilizing his other attacks, and that's when I started to realize that I hadn't really watched Luigi fight until now."
More murmurs.
"And this afternoon, I know what I saw. I certainly know that you saw it, too. He took two hits, his up tilt and his up smash, and turned them into a combo setup. I'd like to take this time to open up the floor for discussion on this turn of events."
"Honestly, I think it's further proof that nerfing him was for the best," said Vanessa. "It forced him to rely on his other attacks, and once he stopped relying on his down throw, he really began to shine."
"I thought I wanted to see him fail again and again, but when he pulled that up tilt to up smash out of his pocket, I couldn't stop rooting for him," opined Ethan. "I could see the look on his face, and I knew something clicked. He kept using that to make more combos, and I could feel his confidence swelling. He's not where he used to be, but he's climbing. Luigi's got a foothold, and he's climbing on up."
"I regret what I said to him that day, because I now see that he wasn't just using his combos to win," said Falco. "He was using his wits. I thought I'd be happy seeing him nerfed. Now, I don't know what to feel. I don't even know if we accomplished anything—except improve his fighting style."
"I'd, uh, I think I'd like to fight him sometime," opined Marth. "I really like this new Luigi. Watching him this afternoon reminded me why I befriended him back in Melee. He's the most brilliant Smasher I've ever known, and maybe I'd like to reach out to him and talk things out."
"I'd like that, too," said Kyle. "And I wish I can unsay those mean things about him."
"So do I," said Rolf.
"I'm starting to think that he didn't need a nerf, after all," said Chase.
"Whoa, whoa!" CH broke in. "Time out!"
Everyone turned and looked at him.
"You shouldn't forget why we created Project Nerf," said CH. "You guys hated losing to him! I hated losing to him! We spent all of September airing our grievances at my brother, and he didn't listen. So, we took matters into our own hands. We got rid of those combos, so it can be easier for us to beat him!"
"CH is right, you guys," said Stevie. "We all wanted this. We should be celebrating!"
"Did we?" asked Falco.
"We used to think we did, but now, we're not so sure," said Theo.
"Don't forget the amount of money I spent financing this," said CH.
"What does that have to do with anything?" Rolf wanted to know. "You helped us keep Project Nerf secret, and we thank you for that. But things change, you know? You think you want something, and when you finally get it, you start to realize that you didn't really want it—or need it—at all."
Whispers.
"Well," Chad piped up. "It's probably not the time for 'I told you so', but…"
CH gave him a look.
"Like I said," shrugged Chad. "It's not the time."
The conspirators of Project Nerf stood there, chastened.
Then, Shane broke the silence. "Who wants to party?" he asked.
Gratefully, everyone cheered their assent.
Shane and his brothers kept the wine and other spirits flowing as everyone guzzled on sandwiches, cocktail wieners, pizza and artisan cheeses and crackers. Several partygoers also brought their own food, like spanakopitas (feta and spinach-filled pastries), samosas, chow mein, fried rice, wantons, nachos, quesadillas and burritos. In no time at all, music also began to play. The host encouraged everyone to look around his new house and make themselves comfortable, but discouraged them from perturbing anything without his permission. After eating their fill, men and women found a spacious spot and began dancing and jamming to the music from Shane's phone.
As for Chad, CH made it a point to keep him within eyeshot and earshot, bringing him along to socialize with others like he was his date. But there was something the Hand of Destruction didn't know. Chad once aspired to be an inventor and spent his free time tinkering with things. After the "chat" that afternoon, the New England native had put together a device which looked like a pen but was actually an audio recorder. Presently, he was recording everything CH was saying to other party guests, including gloating sessions over Project Nerf and passive-aggressively securing the guests' promises not to blab about the venture.
When CH's favorite song came on, he swanned over to Chad. "Care to dance?" he asked, sweeping the young man onto the dance floor without awaiting a reply.
The two cut a striking figure on the dance floor. Activity briefly halted so that the party guests could watch the duo. Chad's steps perfectly matched his dance partner, while CH gracefully twirled and dipped Chad like a pro. It was actually kinda nice dancing with CH. His large palm was the perfect hiding place, allowing him to glance over the guests he recognized and talk to them with his eyes, picking up the signals, the guilt, the regret, the burgeoning respect for a certain man in green. He was taking CH's attempt to control him and using it to his advantage.
Chad smirked as he twirled the Hand of Destruction—no easy feat—and picked out Falco from the crowd, both saying the things that needed to be said with a simple glance. He'd chat with the avian later. Right now though, he had a giant glove to dance with. He snaked one arm around Crazy Hand and then pulled him close so that one finger touched Chad's nose. Someone hooted as the dance became a fiery tango. Crazy Hand blushed like someone's prom date, but happily followed along. Other couples began to join them on the floor, starting with Marth and Roy and ending with Theo and Vanessa. The temperature went up ten or so degrees as these couples danced sensuously.
"Thanks, man," said CH as he dipped Chad low. "I needed that."
Chad smiled. "Don't mention it," he replied, slipping a rose between CH's middle and ring fingers and sauntering away.
"Hey," said Falco, catching Chad by the arm.
"Hey."
"You were right about everything. About us being rats jumping from a sinking ship. And by the time I realized it, it was too late. I'm sorry, Chad."
"I'm sorry, too."
"Were you listening to our—talk—this morning?"
"I was. Falco, I know you're having second thoughts about this venture. Don't be afraid of them."
"I'm not afraid of them. It's just that when we were in that elevator, Luigi didn't shut me down. He listened. And he didn't know that he'd be nerfed the next day."
"I can see it in you. I see it in all of you. You feel guilty after what you saw this afternoon, and you want to confess. What's holding you back?"
"What's holding you back?" Falco wanted to know.
"CH is using my involvement as leverage to get me to do what he wants," said Chad, "but I'm fighting back."
"The best way to fight back," said Falco, "is to confess yourself. That way, CH will lose his power over you."
"I'm just waiting for the right time," said Chad.
"There's no time like the present time," Falco said wisely.
"Tell you what," said Chad. "We'll confess together. I confess, you confess. Deal?"
"Deal."
The two shook on it, and then Chad moved fluidly through the throng of guests, snapping pictures along the way, seeking to put as much distance between himself and CH as he could.
"If only you knew, Chad," Falco said quietly. "If only you knew."
Stuart and his date were laughing with a few other guests when Chad approached them.
"Oh, hey!" greeted Stuart, offering his hand. "You must be Chad!"
Chad shook the proffered hand. "Indeed, I am."
"My bros told me you left for greener pastures," said Stuart.
"That's right. And I'm not sorry."
"Hey," Stuart said quietly. "It's nothing to be sorry for, anyway. Looking back on it, I'm happy you left."
"I hurt Luigi, and I want to make it up to him," said Chad.
"Me, too. The original plan was to try and get Luigi in trouble, but it backfired, and I got the boot instead. I was angry, yes, but I had time to reflect. And maybe I should powwow with my brothers and tell them that our little vendetta against Luigi is pointless. I even forgot why we hate him so much!"
"By all means, talk to them," exhorted Chad, "because all you're doing is hurting yourselves. Project Nerf succeeded, but at what cost? The Smashers involved gave up their integrity, and Master Hand warned them that's it's better if they came forward than being found out. The truth will set them free. And hey, if they work hard enough, then they'll earn Luigi's forgiveness."
"Practice what you preach, man," said Stuart.
"I…" said Chad.
"You're trying to get us to cop to what we did, and I admire that. But you used to be involved in Project Nerf, nonetheless."
"Crazy Hand is very dangerous," said Chad. "He called me the day the patch went live. Told me your brothers are planning something else, and that if I don't help them—I'll be at Mario's mercy. He kept evidence of my involvement. All it'll take is a phone call for Mario to find out everything."
"Then," said Stuart, "you have to tell Mario and Luigi before CH does. I'll talk to my brothers about the other project they have in the works."
He patted Chad on the shoulder and left with his date.
Mario wants the names of those who complained about Luigi, thought Chad. He'd listened in on the conversation between MH and the man in red earlier that day. Master Hand couldn't say anything—but Chad could. The question was—how could he tell Mario without anyone else figuring out he was the one who squawked?
Continuing to take pictures and neck with party guests, Chad made his way to a guy named Jeff, who was both a limo driver and a security guard. Jeff was also a member of Mr. Sakurai's personnel, but had become a good friend of the conspirators.
"Hey," said Chad.
"Hey," said Jeff.
"I could use your help," Chad propositioned with a big smile.
1.1.1
CH's smirk faded when he couldn't find his "date" anywhere. The drink slipped from his fingers and crashed to the floor, startling everyone.
"Are you all right, CH?" asked Shane.
"Has anyone seen Chad?" asked the Hand of Destruction.
"I think he just left," Chase piped up.
"God—mit!" snapped CH, bolting toward the exit.
"Hey, man, if you're that obsessed with him, why don't you just marry him?" Vince snarked.
"Not funny, Vince!" barked CH as he dashed out in search of Chad.
Outside Shane's castle, CH scoured the grounds with no success. Then, he heard the whirr of a Segway and whipped around in time to see Chad and Jeff flying down the road.
"Hey!" screamed CH, giving chase.
Calmly, Chad pulled out a Blue Shell and flung it at his pursuer. It hit CH square on the center of his palm, knocking him onto his back. His fingers wriggled wildly, giving him the appearance of a turtle on its back.
Laughing, Chad flipped CH the bird as Jeff rode him to freedom. "Sucker!" he whooped triumphantly before disappearing from view.
The two men arrived at the Smash Mansion forty-five minutes later. Chad hopped off the Segway and beamed at Jeff. "Thanks, man," he said. "I owe you one."
"It's my pleasure," said Jeff.
"Are you aware that your boss helped a bunch of entitled brats subvert this tournament?" asked Chad.
Jeff lowered his gaze. "No one else will pay me as well as him."
"I bet Master Hand will," said Chad. "I hear he's hiring people to help around the Smash Mansion."
"I've always wanted to interact with the Smashers," offered Jeff.
"See? There ya go," winked Chad. "Think about it."
Jeff smiled, hopped back onto his Segway and headed for the open road.
Sighing in relief, Chad walked inside the Smash Mansion, took of his blazer, undid his tie and unbuttoned a few buttons on his dress shirt. He wanted to take a shower, put on his pjs and get some sleep for another long day. Yes, that sounded just about right.
As he walked silently down the corridor toward his room, Chad felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned.
"Luigi?" whispered Chad. "How come you're still awake?"
"I wanted to talk to you," Luigi replied. "Come on."
Luigi led Chad to his room, steered him to sit on his bed, and closed the door behind him.
"Look, about yesterday…" Chad began.
Luigi silenced him with a finger to his lips and pulled out his laptop. "I found something very interesting," he said. "Wanna know what it is?"
"What did you find?" asked Chad.
Luigi gave the laptop to Chad. The man in green had pulled up a webpage boasting about Koopa's various ventures. One of them was real estate.
"Why does Koopa have a website, knowing that you or Mario could…?"
Luigi shrugged. "Beats me. But take a look at this one…"
Chad followed Luigi's finger and bit his lip. "Hm. Okay—so, Koopa was able to sell three pieces of land yesterday."
"Look at the names, Chad!" Luigi was getting excited. "Look at the names!"
Chad obliged. "Vincent Bennigan, Manny Bennigan, Shane Bennigan. Wait a minute. I heard there was a Stuart Bennigan in Smash, a real troublemaker. Are they…?"
"I don't know their relation to him yet, but the fact that Koopa was among those railing about my down throw and doing business with these three—they were involved in something, and I'm gonna find out what."
"What if I told you they were?" asked Chad.
Luigi raised an eyebrow.
"This goes back to what I wanted to tell you yesterday. I was frustrated over those combos of yours, and my frustration led me down a dark path. Thank God, I was able to pull myself out of it, but…"
"Why do I feel that I don't like what I'm about to hear?" asked Luigi.
"I'm so sorry, Luigi. But Koopa and a few other Smashers had a shady business deal with those three, and I know this because—I was involved in it, too." Chad then steeled himself for the coming storm.
The storm never broke. Instead, Luigi laid a hand on Chad's shoulder. "You have to tell Master Hand," he said softly. "Otherwise, he'll find out on his own, and you'll be in a lot of trouble. He could kick you out, or worse."
"Someone else was operating from the shadows," said Chad. "Someone powerful, and he's holding my involvement over my head. Your brother's on the warpath, I can feel it, and this—person—threatened to sic him on me if I don't give him what he wants.
"Those three…" Chad tapped the laptop screen, "are planning something else. Something involving the Smash Ballot. Operation Ballot Box, or something."
A look of horror crossed Luigi's face. "Then you must tell MH now," he pleaded.
"I can't. I'm sorry," Chad said painfully. "I can't bring your self-esteem back down, I just can't."
"You're not doing anything to my self-esteem," said Luigi. "I'm starting to recover from the nerf. The only person who's self-esteem you're hurting is you. Now, this—Operation Ballot Box…"
"From what this person told me, Daisy's the target," confirmed Chad.
"And this business deal—the one you were briefly involved in…"
Chad flinched away from Luigi. "Oh, God…"
"It's okay. I won't bite—that hard," Luigi assured him. "Just tell me the truth. Please."
"All I can tell you right now is that it had something to do with your nerf. Some Smashers were salty over your combos and railed about it to MH, to each other and online. The Bennigan Brothers only supplied the fuel to the fire. In the near future, I'd like to arrange a meeting with you and Mario in a secure location so I can tell you what you deserve to know."
Luigi listened intently.
"I know that Mario wants to protect you, which is why he's pressuring MH to name names. And the shadowy contributor to this mess knows this, too. So, in order to free myself from him, I'm gonna confess first and take whatever beatdown Mario sees fit to dish out."
"If you confess, then I'm positive that you won't get a beatdown. Not a severe one, at least," said Luigi.
"Okay, great. That makes me feel better," sighed Chad.
"Chad, I'm trying to help you. I'm trying to take the high road and give you a chance instead of just—freaking out. Confess to Mario, and he'll be a little upset, sure. But if you keep this from him, and he finds out on his own…" Luigi didn't finish the sentence, nor did he need to. "My bro has questions. You have answers. It really is as simple as that. And since Koopa is involved, I know that the two of us will find a way to make him talk. Chances are, he'll give you up to save himself. The lesser of two evils is very obvious here."
"Please, don't hate me," entreated Chad.
"I don't hate you," said Luigi. "When I read the patch notes, I had a feeling about you, about Koopa, about Falco and about the others throwing hissy fits. But I wonder—who's this 'shady contributor'? Is he also a Smasher? Does he work for Nintendo? A powerful person who hates my guts—I think I know who you're talking about…"
Chad made a face. "Not him, silly! Besides, he knows nothing about these tournaments. But it would've been interesting, huh?"
"Yeah, right," said Luigi, and the two shared a chuckle.
Glancing about the room to make sure nobody was watching, Chad leaned into Luigi's ear and whispered something. The green plumber sat there, still and silent.
When Chad was finished, he straightened and studied Luigi. "Well, say something," he said.
"I—had no idea," he said.
"Me, neither. But now that you know, you can't clue him in to the fact that I told you."
"It won't matter if you talk to Mario," said Luigi.
Chad scribbled something onto a piece of paper. "Have him meet me at this location in eighteen days' time," he said. "On second thought, I want both of you to meet me there. I promise, I'll tell you everything."
Luigi drew a long breath. "You were trained in different fighting styles," he said. "There was no need for you to stoop that low."
"I'm sorry. I don't know what else to say," said Chad. "I acted like an entitled, whiney, immature jerk, and I hope you and Mario can forgive me."
"The good thing is that you realized it and bailed before it took you under," said Luigi, "but why didn't you say anything then? We could've stopped it."
"No one would've believed me," Chad said forlornly.
"Well, I do."
Chad smiled wanly. "You're taking this pretty well."
"I'm trying to keep an open mind. I just hope Mario does the same. Are you sure you can't tell us now?"
"Positive. Trust me, it'll be worth the wait."
"I'm gonna hold you to that," said Luigi.
He leaned over and hugged Chad, who returned the embrace.
"Oh, Luigi…" breathed Chad.
Seconds later, Luigi dealt out a hard punch to the solar plexus.
"Oof!" grunted Chad.
"That's for keeping this from me," Luigi said evenly.
"I admit, I deserve that," Chad said painfully.
Luigi slammed another fist into Chad's gut. "That's for getting involved in this in the first place."
Chad wheezed.
One final, fierce body shot. "And that's for sitting around and letting it happen."
"I'll make it up to you," coughed Chad. "I promise."
Luigi gently kissed the New Englander on the cheek.
"Oh, my," said Chad.
"That was for being honest with me. A lot of people don't do that."
"I'm not 'a lot of people'," said Chad. "Good night, L."
"Good night, Chad." Luigi helped Chad to the door.
"I'll probably [bleep] blood tomorrow," said Chad. Looking deep into Luigi's eyes, he vowed, "Eighteen days. I'll sing like Katy Perry. Eighteen days. I swear to you."
With that note, Chad limped the rest of the way to his room, satisfied that he at least set some of this into motion.
Please RR.