Disclaimer: All characters belong to their respective owners.
And Then There Was Smash
Chapter 1: Handey
Tears! Do they not fall from the sky? Can it be said that the heavens weep upon human drama? Alas, the sobbing of the strata rarely comes upon a blissful moment. For upon such moments, the sun dost shine. When the rain cascades downward to the Earth's dry face, subtle shades of gray and black overwhelm all. The peoples' hearts are downed, and most depressing scenes ensue. So it was on such a day, when hearts were broken, and fantasies were fulfilled. Just as how when it rains it pours, a single thought of sadness begets a great depression.
"Link." said Zelda, in a dejected manner. Zelda held a frown upon her face, while her eyes were fixed on the grass below, and she completed her façade by playing with her hands.
Link looked upon Zelda's bright blue eyes, with a smile upon his face, and with a confident manner answered, "Yes my love?"
Zelda opened her mouth slightly, but closed it again, until her words could escape her mouth, "It's just."
"What?" sounded link, becoming more disheartened at every sound his beauty made. His smile was fading, and his confidence faltered.
"Your hands." Replied Zelda, quite startled at what she had said, even more bewildered that she had gathered up the initiative to say such painful words.
"My. Hands?" returned a confused and worried Link. He wasn't quite sure what was wrong with Zelda, nor what was wrong with his hands.
Zelda continued, the tears of the sky streaming down her face, "They're just. not big enough!" She sighed and began, "I'm leaving you Link, you're inferior!"
Link stared into Zelda's glowing eyes, mouth open, but without breath to speak. He trembled just like the coward Luigi, and laughed not for the sake of enjoyment, but for his lack of words. His eyes reddened and watered while his head fell and hung low. The fallen hero was down to his knees on the saturated earth with only the utterance of a few words. Yet the Princess Zelda remained standing, and her expressions as well.
Only to complement the situation's abnormality Princess Peach, the less than refined princess of the Mushroom Kingdom, and the usually armor-clad bounty hunter, Samus Aran seemed to have fallen out of the heavens, right beside Zelda. Link wasn't quite sure whether he was dreaming or if what he was experiencing was reality, but either way, he would be bewildered nonetheless.
Zelda yet again opened her mouth and calmly told Link, "Were going to have a foursome."
Link's spirit began to rise, as he too is human, or close to it, and carried the lust that all people have, no matter what their position or power.
"But." said the beautiful bounty hunter. "Not with you, your hands aren't big enough"
Link was quite sure this was a dream now, as he never knew any of these women to have tendencies such as these. Though Link never asked about such delicate subjects.
"They're having it with me!" Chortled the white glove known as Master Hand. He lowered slowly to the Earth, and landed cleanly on the dampened soil. After he finished his descent, the three women crowded around him. In a twist of fate befitting Link's despair and romanticism, Zelda whispered, "Sorry."
"HANDEY!" shouted Master Hand's mother, "STOP PLAYING WITH YOUR DOLLS!" Master Hand put down his figurines and began to turn a shade of red. "MOM! THEY'RE NOT DOLLS! THEY'RE NINTENDO FIGURINES!" replied the embarrassed hand.
"I DON'T CARE WHAT THEY ARE JUST PACK THEM UP!" Yelled the angry mother.
"WHY!" whined the childlike dreamer.
Master Hand's mother let out a deep sigh; her patience was growing thin. Her son had lingered at her house far too long, a good thirty years at the least. Like all parents must do, she had to get her son out into the world and out of her (now less than caring) arms. Not that she was an unloving mother, as she would certainly have to be to allow her son to live off of her and his fathers earnings for 30 years. Surely he could make a living, perhaps find a wife, and have children. Then again, the opposite of the aforementioned scenario was more likely. He would have to go nonetheless, if he failed, he would come right back, no doubt about that.
"YOU'RE MOVING OUT, SO PACK YOUR THINGS AND GET DOWN HERE!" Explained Handey's (Master Hand's name) less than ecstatic mother.
"Moving out!?" thought Handey. He had never been far away from his mother, let alone his room, and now she expected him to go out? Not just to the back yard, but out into the big world, where her motherly love could not reach him except through the phone or the letters only a caring person would care to send. "Wait, maybe I can find my heroes!" contemplated the giant hand. Though saddened by his separation from his mother, he could find those he fantasized about. Of course it would be of both our parties, of the author and the reader, to not go into those fantasies, as one was quite enough. Given new reason, the optimistic Handey packed up his things and hurried down the dark cherry stairs. He bid his mother a fond farewell, promised to call and write when advantageous to his time, and to take care. As Handey stepped through the doorway, luggage hanging from his fingers, the thirty-five year old took his first breath of independence. Handey was out in the world with his rather opaque goals, and the undefeatable spirit of child.
And Then There Was Smash
Chapter 1: Handey
Tears! Do they not fall from the sky? Can it be said that the heavens weep upon human drama? Alas, the sobbing of the strata rarely comes upon a blissful moment. For upon such moments, the sun dost shine. When the rain cascades downward to the Earth's dry face, subtle shades of gray and black overwhelm all. The peoples' hearts are downed, and most depressing scenes ensue. So it was on such a day, when hearts were broken, and fantasies were fulfilled. Just as how when it rains it pours, a single thought of sadness begets a great depression.
"Link." said Zelda, in a dejected manner. Zelda held a frown upon her face, while her eyes were fixed on the grass below, and she completed her façade by playing with her hands.
Link looked upon Zelda's bright blue eyes, with a smile upon his face, and with a confident manner answered, "Yes my love?"
Zelda opened her mouth slightly, but closed it again, until her words could escape her mouth, "It's just."
"What?" sounded link, becoming more disheartened at every sound his beauty made. His smile was fading, and his confidence faltered.
"Your hands." Replied Zelda, quite startled at what she had said, even more bewildered that she had gathered up the initiative to say such painful words.
"My. Hands?" returned a confused and worried Link. He wasn't quite sure what was wrong with Zelda, nor what was wrong with his hands.
Zelda continued, the tears of the sky streaming down her face, "They're just. not big enough!" She sighed and began, "I'm leaving you Link, you're inferior!"
Link stared into Zelda's glowing eyes, mouth open, but without breath to speak. He trembled just like the coward Luigi, and laughed not for the sake of enjoyment, but for his lack of words. His eyes reddened and watered while his head fell and hung low. The fallen hero was down to his knees on the saturated earth with only the utterance of a few words. Yet the Princess Zelda remained standing, and her expressions as well.
Only to complement the situation's abnormality Princess Peach, the less than refined princess of the Mushroom Kingdom, and the usually armor-clad bounty hunter, Samus Aran seemed to have fallen out of the heavens, right beside Zelda. Link wasn't quite sure whether he was dreaming or if what he was experiencing was reality, but either way, he would be bewildered nonetheless.
Zelda yet again opened her mouth and calmly told Link, "Were going to have a foursome."
Link's spirit began to rise, as he too is human, or close to it, and carried the lust that all people have, no matter what their position or power.
"But." said the beautiful bounty hunter. "Not with you, your hands aren't big enough"
Link was quite sure this was a dream now, as he never knew any of these women to have tendencies such as these. Though Link never asked about such delicate subjects.
"They're having it with me!" Chortled the white glove known as Master Hand. He lowered slowly to the Earth, and landed cleanly on the dampened soil. After he finished his descent, the three women crowded around him. In a twist of fate befitting Link's despair and romanticism, Zelda whispered, "Sorry."
"HANDEY!" shouted Master Hand's mother, "STOP PLAYING WITH YOUR DOLLS!" Master Hand put down his figurines and began to turn a shade of red. "MOM! THEY'RE NOT DOLLS! THEY'RE NINTENDO FIGURINES!" replied the embarrassed hand.
"I DON'T CARE WHAT THEY ARE JUST PACK THEM UP!" Yelled the angry mother.
"WHY!" whined the childlike dreamer.
Master Hand's mother let out a deep sigh; her patience was growing thin. Her son had lingered at her house far too long, a good thirty years at the least. Like all parents must do, she had to get her son out into the world and out of her (now less than caring) arms. Not that she was an unloving mother, as she would certainly have to be to allow her son to live off of her and his fathers earnings for 30 years. Surely he could make a living, perhaps find a wife, and have children. Then again, the opposite of the aforementioned scenario was more likely. He would have to go nonetheless, if he failed, he would come right back, no doubt about that.
"YOU'RE MOVING OUT, SO PACK YOUR THINGS AND GET DOWN HERE!" Explained Handey's (Master Hand's name) less than ecstatic mother.
"Moving out!?" thought Handey. He had never been far away from his mother, let alone his room, and now she expected him to go out? Not just to the back yard, but out into the big world, where her motherly love could not reach him except through the phone or the letters only a caring person would care to send. "Wait, maybe I can find my heroes!" contemplated the giant hand. Though saddened by his separation from his mother, he could find those he fantasized about. Of course it would be of both our parties, of the author and the reader, to not go into those fantasies, as one was quite enough. Given new reason, the optimistic Handey packed up his things and hurried down the dark cherry stairs. He bid his mother a fond farewell, promised to call and write when advantageous to his time, and to take care. As Handey stepped through the doorway, luggage hanging from his fingers, the thirty-five year old took his first breath of independence. Handey was out in the world with his rather opaque goals, and the undefeatable spirit of child.