"Of course I'm screwing you over. I screw everyone over." Kirby said as he crammed another donut inside his face.
"But I'm your friend."
"So?"
"So you shouldn't lace your friend's donuts with laxative."
"But then I wouldn't sell any Pepto-Bismol."
"Let me get this straight." Fox said, putting his mug of coffee down.
"You lace the donuts with laxative. You sell the donuts a fifty bucks per donut to anyone desperate enough to buy them at such a price. You then sell Pepto-Bismol to people who get gastro-intestinal distress from your donuts."
"You forgot about the coffee."
Fox stared at Kirby, then at his coffee, then back at Kirby. "What about the coffee."
"You didn't know about the coffee?"
"No. Tell me about the coffee."
"I sell people coffee for 12 bucks per cup. I then remind them that donuts go well in coffee and tell them that I have the best deals on donuts in the building."
"You have the only deals on donuts in the building."
"That means they're the best deals by default, doesn't it?"
"Yes, I guess." Fox said quietly, trying to figure out exactly what else he wanted know from this little cream puff who knew everything.
"Where'd you get the laxatives?"
"The ones I put in my donuts? Dr. Mario gave them to me. He has an addiction problem."
"He's addicted to donuts." Fox stated matter-of-factly.
"He's addicted to laxatives. That's why I took them in the first place. I sell them to him at unnaturally high prices and tell them that they're bargain basement low compared to other people who peddle laxatives."
"No one else peddles laxatives in this building."
"That makes them low by default, doesn't it?"
Fox staggered. "I need a drink."
"I'll sell one to you for forty dollars."
"Since when do you have alcohol?"
"Since Dr. Mario gave it to me. He has an addiction problem, you know."
"He's addicted to alcohol?"
"He's addicted to crack-cocaine."
"Ah. That doesn't surprise me at all." Fox lied and left the office.
Fox wandered the halls with nothing to do except go into Pichu's office. The little rodent was dead in here, killed by forces that no one understood except Pichu, who was dead and therefore not likely to explain it. Fox looked at the office it was like all the others: A swivel chair on a brown artificial dest. The same computer that the rest of the group had, the same unopenable window, the same potted fern in the corner of the room. The only thing different was a gas pipe that ran along the office wall. Fox only noticed it because it was leaking. He could hear the hollow hiss of its quarry being dumped out into the air, but he could not smell it. Fox held his mouth close to it, but it had no taste, either.
"Carbon Monoxide. It has no taste or smell." Fox told Mario. "We'll all be dead in a little while. We'll die like Pichu, writhing on the floor like a headless snake."
"That was very graphic. You should be a songwriter."
"Thank you."
"And we won't all die. Someone could patch the hole."
"Not me."
"Not me."
"Fine, I'll do it." said Fox, then went out, bought a donut and promised to give it to Falco if he patched the hole. Falco agreed and did so with only minor brain damage.
"How minor?" he asked Dr. Mario.
"You won't remember things like baseball statistics."
"I'll have Ness fill me in."
Falco went around to the office and couldn't find Ness. Ness had apparently left the building since he was standing outside.
"Hey!" Yelled Falco. "How did you get out?"
"I left a clue on my desk!" shouted Ness.
Falco ran to the desk and found a piece of paper. On it was scrawled the word 'Air'.
