Disclaimer: I don't own Nintendo, but I wish I did. I also wish I owned the entire continent of North America, but that's life.
Chapter 1: Invitations
It was a day like any other day, and a cliché like any other cliché. It was a bright, bright, bright, bright sunshiny day in the peaceful and beautiful Mushroom Kingdom, and all the citizens could see clearly now that the rain was gone. The morning dew sparkled on all the plants of the Kingdom's largest city, Toad Town. It was a perfectly normal big city, smaller than somewhere like Los Angeles, but bigger than somewhere like Burlington.
Above all the city's commotion, on a hilltop that could still be seen easily from Toad Town's lowest point, stood a magnificent and picturesque castle. It was quite a scene to behold, medieval architecture and modern skyscrapers, all in the same breathtaking vista. It was in this relic of a bygone era that the Mushroom Kingdom's monarch, Princess Peach Toadstool lived and ruled. She was a good ruler in some of the population's eyes, and a great ruler in the rest. She was even voted People magazine's "Most Benevolent Monarch". The princess was even kind to her servants, except for when she was in a bad mood, then they hid in the places most far away from "Satan and Medusa's love child".
She was also considered beautiful to the typical male resident of the Kingdom. She had bright blue eyes, long blond hair that most people considered had substantial amounts of hair gel; it rarely blew in the wind and stuck out in places, and a body that Playboy and Sports Illustrated had tried for years to get on their centerfolds and swimsuit issues. Her usual garb was not tight leather, a case that Spike TV often made, but an elegant pink dress with a deep blue brooch pinned on it that her mother had given her on her deathbed.
This particular morning, Peach was in a good mood, despite having stubbed her toe earlier, and letting out several words that would have made a sailor turn white. She went out the castle's grand front doors, to the royal yard where she then opened the mailbox to collect the day's post. "Hmm...let's see..." she said, absently sorting through the mass of letters. "Bill, bill, bill, a letter from Bill, a letter for my servant Bill, a letter for Bill from another guy named Bill...oh!" She stopped as she saw a letter with no manifestation whatsoever of the word "bill", but a letter addressed to her with no return address, and a stamp with what appeared to be a white glove on it. "Odd. I wonder what this is," she mused to no one in particular. Her curiosity getting the better of her, she opened the envelope and unfolded the document inside.
Dear Princess Toadstool,
You have been cordially invited to attend the 2nd not-really-annual-but-it-sounds-better Super Smash Brothers tournament to compete for the title of "Greatest Warrior in the Galaxy". On September 1st, a means of transportation to this event shall appear at exactly 10:00 AM sharp (ooh, a redundancy!). However, it will disappear at 10:01 AM, so make sure you're packed ahead of time. This event will last for a year, so pack plenty of clothes and video games. Food, etc. will be provided for free. Only respond to this letter if you cannot come; you can call me at 1-800-THE-HAND if that is the case.
Yours "handily",
The scrawl at the bottom was illegible to the untrained eye, but years of reading and deciphering ancient scripts and writings had given her just enough training to make out the initials: M.H.
There was also a P.S. that said:
You'd better be able to come or I shall put a plague on both your houses: your castle and your summer home! Hahaha!
Peach's first impulse upon reading the letter was to immediately throw it away and dismiss it as "spam", especially with all the "hand" references and the misinterpretation of the line from Shakespeare. However, something in her subconscious told her that this was not some sick joke, and that it was legitimate and to not throw the letter away. And to never invite Mario to another fund-raiser with free pasta again. Speaking of Mario, she dimly remembered him telling her about some kind of Super Smash thing. Well, she thought, I guess I'll go, if only to get away from my annoying servants.
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Roy of Pharae sat watching TV in his 70's fashioned room in a 1300's fashioned castle overlooking a big 2000's fashioned city (sound familiar?). Roy was the lord of Pharae's son, and he was often fairly bored, as there was never anything good on TV. Or was there?
"Woo hoo! Yeah! Take it off!"
Umm...OK, I don't think I want to know... anyway, Roy was definitely entertained, but someone opening the door interrupted his...activities.
"Aaa! Oh, it's just you," he said relieved, as the person who had entered was the butler, Jim-Bob. "Didn't I tell you that when the door is closed, it means 'do not disturb'?" the red-headed royalty said indignantly. "I thought our relationship didn't need explicit, written instructions!"
"Terribly sorry, sir," the butler said in his crisp, English accent. "But I found this letter addressed to you in the mail and I thought you might want it."
"No, throw it out. Or better, give it to me and let me burn it."
"But sir, it's not from a crazed fangirl." Roy was extremely puzzled at this revelation. He hardly ever got letters that weren't from deranged women wanting his autograph, date, hand in marriage, or worse.
"OK, let me see it," said Roy. He took the letter from Jim-Bob, shredded the envelope, and carefully read the letter, ready to burn the letter to a golden black at the slightest pick-up line (which usually sucked), innuendo, or any instance of the word "boudoir". He still didn't know what that meant, but he had had a rather nasty experience with someone who wrote him a letter with that word in it. "Hmm...it says I'm invited to something called the Super Smash Bros. Tournament to fight against other people. Well, I've always liked fighting stuff, so I guess I'll go."
"Jolly good, sir. Shall I tell your father?"
"Yes, but make sure it's made clear that I am going and he won't stop me." Roy's father, Eliwood, was rather overprotective.
"Yes, sir." And with that, Jim-Bob left, and Roy resumed his "viewing".
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Banjo the bear snored in the light of the early dawn, happily dreaming of honey, and fried chicken, and grits, and chicken-fried steak, and other down-home southern cooking. He was about to take a big helping of garlic mashed potatoes, when he was suddenly interrupted by incessant squawking noises. "Banjo, wake up, you lazy bum! It's ten-o'clock! Did you hear me? Wake up! ¡Despiértate! " Banjo yawned sleepily and slowly sat up in his bed. The incessant squawking noises he had heard in his dream were made by his friend, Kazooie.
Kazooie was a red bird. But she wasn't just any red bird. She was a Red-Crested Breegull, who, unfortunately for everyone else, could talk. That wouldn't be so bad in itself, but Breegulls were notorious for their awful tempers and scathing comments. However, Banjo was one of the only people if not the only person who had the patience (and self-control) to look past Kazooie's trying, foul-tempered outside, to her equally trying, foul-tempered inside. But despite any arguments they might have, Banjo and Kazooie were best of friends, if total opposites.
"Good morning Banjo! I brought in the mail and fixed breakfast!" No, that wasn't Kazooie, but Banjo's adorable little sister, Tooty. While Banjo and Kazooie were opposites, Tooty and Kazooie were even more opposites. Tooty rarely got irritated at anything ever, and she was always in a good mood and willing to do anything to help out.
"Oh, thanks, Tooty," Banjo said in his southern drawl. One wouldn't think so, but sometimes his accent got him into trouble by getting him mistaken for George W. Bush. It all depended on their political views, but his accent got him chased after (for many different purposes), criticized and praised, and somebody jumped him in the street once. One skeptic kept thinking that Banjo was really Bush in a bear suit, and ripped his fur off. Needless to say, that person got more than his fur ripped off (get your mind out of the gutter).
Banjo looked through the mail, most of it being magazines about honey, hate letters from Gruntilda, his arch-nemesis, or bills. One, however, stood out from the rest. It was addressed to Banjo and Kazooie, but it seemed...odd. Banjo opened the letter, Kazooie reading over his shoulder, and read it aloud. It was the exact same letter that Peach and Roy had received previously, only it looked as though the writer did it in a big hurry, and with the messiest writing possible. "Well, I can barely make it out, but I think it says something about fighting in a tournament. What do you think, Kazooie?"
"I think we should go! I've been bored lately, I think it would be fun to kick someone's ass!"
"Kazooie!" Banjo didn't object to Kazooie's foul mouth, which was usually way fouler than this, but since Tooty was around, Banjo tried not to expose his impressionable little sister to any more swear words than she needed to hear.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Sheesh, I'd go just to get away from that stupid Tooty..." she said quietly to herself.
"What was that, Kazooie?" questioned Banjo.
"Uh, nothing." Banjo knew that it probably was something, but he had learned not to inquire too deeply into Kazooie's business.
"Okay." Banjo then went off to eat his pancakes, slathering them with a substantial amount of honey.
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Yes, there are going to be some other characters in this story besides the SSBM ones. Also, it's not like Peach, Roy, and Banjo are going to be the main characters, they're just the ones I picked to be in this chapter. Anyway, in the next chapter, you get to see all (or most) of the Smashers. Until then, remember the three R's: Read, review, and...ramble on like I'm doing here. The next chapter should be up in a few days.