CHAPTER 2
Drinks, Dances, and Discussions

The sumptuous lobby of the XYLO Exclusive Night Club boasted a masterfully crafted gilt crystal interior design that featured an abstract of sharp geometric shapes, and at least Zelda was relieved to be in someplace that she was more used to rather than the expected musty old dive bar. Adding to the fanciful design were indoor fountains, Royalin leather seats, a ridiculously immense dance floor, a service area for the staff, and a bar filled with international booze as diverse as the Miss Universe. Standing on one of the small cocktail tables at the corner far from the dance floor, Peach was having one of the classic fits she was renowned in the Smash Mansion for.

"What the actual fuck. Now this is why we needed those V.I.P. seats," Peach sighed in frustration. "We totally needed those fucking seats!"

"Come on now, Peach. Don't be such a sour puss," Zelda said, intending to get those V.I.P. seats thing off her friend's head. "Look on the bright side—at least Samus found us a cocktail table!"

"Yeah, but then they'll charge us like $200 for this table," Samus dryly remarked. "Anyways, the early bird shit V.I.P seat thing is only for the first two groups. Our chance of getting into those is a million to one."

Just then, a blast of catchy music blared through the speakers.

"Oh my gosh, I love this song!" Peach cheered as she sang along. "Give it to me, I'm worth it—Oh, come on girls, let's dance to this!" she chanted as she grabbed her friends by the arms and led them to the dance floor. Samus forgot how strong the dainty princess was ever since she became a brawler. Though the two were hesitant, they agreed to give it a shot joining in the feverish rhythm of the pounding electropop music.

Zelda, having no idea how to properly dance in a night club, simply swayed to the beat, observing in the 'tempestuous allure' her friends were displaying. Peach's hands were on the air and her body writhed wildly to the beat. Samus swayed with her hands on the air as well, just not as exaggerated as former.

Not far from where the ladies were pulling of their wicked and awkward (wickedly awkward) dance moves, a group of some recognizable Brawlers entered the sprawling V.I.P. mezzanine where velvet marsala couches and a crystal table that seemed to glow with a bluish, silver light was prepared for them. Link crossed the majestic abstract-patterned carpet and hurled himself towards the biggest couch. "Watch it, you prick! You'll spill our drinks," Marth said, holding the heavy tray that carried five whiskey glasses and two battles of Black JD.

"Oh, sorry Marth. Guess I'm excited we finally got this room to ourselves," Link grinned.

"Obviously we only got in because of those custom-made Armani suits which I had us made. This exclusive club wouldn't allow you lot inside looking like a bunch of unrefined savages from the sew—"

"We get in, Marth! You're oh, so fucking great, your majesty," Ike interjected. The man hasn't stopped talking about how great they all looked for tonight. Admittedly though, it was true the five Brawlers did clean up nicely in the designer apparel which was a marked contrast from their usual uniforms that had survived way too many mutilations, incinerations, and restitching. "Anyways, I heard you just got back from your journey to World 7, Mario. How was it?" he turned to the plumber, attempting for a change in subject.

"Hm. Well, it was pretty long and hard," Mario said, recalling the events while pouring the batch a drink.

"Heh. That's what she said," Link muttered under his breath. Snake sniggered at his little joke, lowkey giving the Hylian a bro-fist.

Even Mario couldn't stifle himself and let out a contagious laugh. "Oh boy! You and your dirty mind, Link." He downed his drink and shook his head violently from the sting. "AH—strong stuff!"

"I don't have a dirty mind," Link argued slyly, slumping back to his seat. "Just a sexy imagination."

"Oh yeah? Well put that sexy imagination of yours to good use then," Ike challenged, no attempt to conceal his devious smirk. "If you know what I mean." He tuts from his stance at the pristine glass walls, pointing with his lips towards the dancefloor and enticing the lot to get a nice long look.

There, they saw them. Three beautiful female Brawlers jiving their bodies to the pounding music and having fun on the dancefloor.

"What the fu—!? How and why did they get Zelda to come here?" Link fumed. Despite the mere fact that his princess was a grown woman and was wiser beyond her years, she was still his best friend—he couldn't help himself from getting overprotective.

"Dear heavens, calm down boy," Marth sipping his drink instead of gulping it down. "She's just here to have a good time. Keeping her away from places such as this could ruin her youth."

"And keeping her in one rids her of her innocence!" argued Link.

"Or her virginity," Snake pointed out nonchalantly. The men let out whoas before collected hollers and laughter. Link grimaced at the super-soldier just as he was downed his fourth glass. "Well, do whatever you fuckers want. As soon as Samus is done with her dancing, I'm gonna go get some with her tonight."

The Altean prince almost spat out his drink. "Not if I get down there first!" he bellowed, abruptly standing from his seat. "Snake—you dick, you know I have a huge crush on her! I am not letting you get to her. You hear?"

"Hm. Sure then, princess. Let's make this a fair one," Snake's confident rebut was enough to worry him. Marth knew that Snake and Samus had history, albeit it was all rumors from a bunch of gossiping assess namely King Dedede, Fox, and Falco.

Mario just let out a "tsk" as he poured the last few drops of the amber liquid into his glass. "Well if you two plan to head down there and hit on a chick who apparently would just beat the crap out of you, be gentlemen and order some more drinks."

Ike stood up. "Nah, I'll just get the drinks. You guys got anything particular in mind?"

Marth sent him a glower and Ike let out a low chuckle. "Look man, I didn't come along to find love in this club or whatever shit it is you're thinking—not especially with that bounty hunter in blue." He gestured towards the exit. "I'm going down so you losers don't have to."

Link, still too lazy to leave the comforts of the opulent room, made the first request. "I'll have a Long Island."

"Just give me a Kamikaze," Snake said.

"Rail Tequila on the rocks, please!" requested Marth.

"Maybe another bottle of Jack," Mario said, peering at the group. "We'll all need it."

Ike narrowed his eyes and panned across the odd batch of gentlemen for any additional orders. "Nothing else? Okay, I'm out of here." As soon as the man left the room, a brief silence peered through the corners of the room.

"Rail on the rocks, eh?" Link taunted, eyeing Marth. "You wanna blackout then wake up to an aching, much larger butthole?"

"What is with you?" Marth argued, his voice raising an octave higher. "Long Island? You're the one who wants to get ass-fucked."

Snake, slightly buzzed from practically finishing one of the two bottles by himself, moved over to Link and placed a sturdy elbow on the swordsman's shoulder. "Link, let the lady drink what she wishes."

Marth crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes. "You are not amusing right now, Snake."

"Come on Marth, don't be so pissed," Mario assuaged. "I'll be honest with you—though my money's on Snake, I'll give you this; look at the bastard. Snake's sure to get annihilated by just a few more Kamikazes." In a whisper, he continued, "If he does, then Samus is all yours."

Marth glanced at the plumber unfazed with his brutal honesty, he was seemingly impressed with the arrangement. "Hmm, I like the way you think, Mr. Face-of-Nintendo."

Just then, Ike arrived with the drinks. "A classic long island, eh Link?" Ike smirked handing over the drinks. "You either wanna blackout A.S.A.P. or get laid by a stranger."

"Told you so!"

"Either way's good," Link said wryly.

"Well, it is best that you don't blackout. You still have to buy the lovely lady down there a drink," Mario smiled, nudging him by the shoulder.

Link felt a light blush warm his cheeks, muttering to himself, "Yeah… I guess so." He took a sip of his cold-served liquid courage.

Mario opened the fresh bottle of Jack Daniels' Gentlemans Jack and poured some for Ike. "How 'bout you, Ike? Any other plans this evening?"

Ike shifted his attention from the glass. "Hmm? Oh, thanks—not so much, please. I just wanted to hang out. Plus, I'm the designated driver, remember?"

Mario shrugged but respected the mercenary for his discipline. He raised his glass for a toast. "Here's to whatever the hell happens tonight!" he exulted.

"CHEERS!"

"That was totally suh-weet!" Peach hollered gaily as they approached their table. Her adrenaline was off the charts infected by the feverish energy that could be felt from every inch of the club. "I cannot wait for the next dance! I'll just go get us some drinks—so what y'all want?"

Samus winked at the brunette. "I'll order for you first since I have an inkling that Peach might give you poison. You know her."

"How dare you, Aran! I am a positively brilliant friend," Peach playfully slapped her with the back of her hand. "So, what'll it be? I hope no one's planning on getting beer though. Ugh, think of the calories!"

"I'll have an AMF, on the rocks. Zelda could have a Mulberry Daiquiri," Samus requested.

"Mulberry Daiquiri?! That drink wouldn't get you anywhere! Shit tastes like some expired prune juice Bowser serves me when I'm kidnapped—prisoner food," Peach pontificated. "Why not a strawberry instead? And what's an AMF?"

Samus attempted to relax her throbbing temple with a finger. "One, we are not getting Zelda drunk on her first drink; two, mulberry tastes hella better; and three, AMF stands for Adios Mother Fucker, basically my kind of murderer. End of discussion."

"Hm. Okay," Peach muttered, a bit sulkily. "But just so y'know, I'm still looking forward to seeing her lose herself."

Just after the blonde left, Zelda furrowed her brows and turned to face Samus with a serious frown. "I'll have you ladies know that it'll take more than just a couple of cheap shots to obliterate me."

"Everyone says that, Zel," Samus said. "But don't worry, I'll make sure to take a video from every angle once you reach the wastelands."

"I don't think so. I'd bet you and Peach that I can land ten shots without throwing up or passing out!"

Samus smirked. As much as she felt some concern, the tempting image of Princess Zelda, the wise ruler of Hyrule, run towards the bathroom, pleading for someone to hold her straight up was too rare of a chance to let up. "Well okay then milady," she said crossing her arms with an amused grin. "This should be very interesting."

Peach arrived with their drinks, slamming the tray on the table and fortunately spilling only a few drops. "Gosh! The bartender is so damn cute but so fucking dull. Like, I bet he wouldn't even get excited when you play your tits in front of him."

"You whore," Samus uttered, carefully taking her drink off the tray.

Zelda thanked Peach as she took hers. "This looks good! But as they say, not everything that glitters is gold."

Peach rolled her eyes. "It's not poison, Zellie. I wouldn't want to go to prison for murder by poison case. Eloquently put, I prefer 'death by frying pan'."

"It's perfectly safe, Zelda," Samus chimed in. "And I swear to you it's not that strong."

Zelda immediately slipped into wisdom mode, carefully twirling the liquid in its container and giving the drink a sniff. "Either the alcohol isn't too strong or it has been perfectly diluted with the solution," she noted. Exhaling softly, she bought the rim to her lips and took a modest sip. Her eyes drew wide open, confounded in the delectable subtle sweet taste of the berries. "Hm! It is good! And the alcohol, you couldn't even taste it at all!" She excitedly took more, longer sips.

For her friends, Zelda's reaction was bliss to behold. "It's tasty, right? But slow down or you'll be regretting it afterwards," Samus warned.

She shifted her attention to the other woman, segueing the subject. "Oh yeah. Hey Peach, Zelda here wanted to make a bet with us."

Peach looked up after sipping her Cosmopolitan, "Really? What kind of bet?"

"She said she could wing ten shots without either passing out or throwing up."

Peach glanced at the other princess whose lips were still locked on the straw of the Daiquiri. With a sly grin, she took out her purse and smacked it down on the table's center. "You're gonna feel sorry for your wallet after this—if this is serious, I'd bet a hundred flat."

Samus smirked. "Zel, you know you could place off the bets before I money down. For the record, I'm betting a hundred and fifty. This'll hurt you more than it'll hurt us."

Zelda gave this some thought. It was terribly unwise to take on ten shots simultaneously and still remain as level-headed as a sober being would. Hell, the alcohol in this dimension could be more or less virulent compared to the fine-aged wines of Hyrule. She carefully considered the arrangement—calculating her body mass index, weighing the pros-and-cons, and mapping out the conditions all in her head.

Zelda gave her friends a scowl. She folded her arms confidently and smirked, "I am no fool to my limits."

Samus nodded her and Peach was a bit disappointed.

"That's right, Zel," Samus said. "I knew you were smarter than this."

Zelda took the last sip of the low-cal cocktail and eloquently set it aside, sneering at the two with fire scintillating in her indigo eyes. "I will gladly take your money by tomorrow morning. Only cheques, please."

...

And this is it for this chapter! There'll be more drinks and partying for the next one, since well, Happy Hour! Anyways, albeit it's fun to drink with family and friends, always know your limits. Hangovers are severe punishments for the poor human soul. If you have any suggestions (perhaps drink suggestions), comments, reviews, feel free to write those down!

P.S. The song mentioned was "Worth It (ft. Kid Ink)" by Fifth Harmony