This chapter is a little short, so I'll tell you all a tale about a weird dream I had. I was riding in this large contraption that was like a cross between a raft and an inner tube. It's something out of an amusment park. I know I saw it before,but I can't remember. It was going through a tunnel of water. It was dark, but that was okay since there was a lamp in the middle. I was sitting in one of the seats, strapped in,and across me, in there repective seats, were some of the cast of "Just Shoot Me" and detective Horatio from "CSI: Miami." Oh, and there was this one guy that was floating upside down above us. I didn't know who that was. Anyway, 'Nina' starts yelling at me about how she finally got here life together after her drug and alcohol binge.

Thats when the dream ended. Weird, ain't it?

I don't own smash brothers.


Mewtwo carefully wielded the last ROM chip onto the circuit board. He closed the outer casing and hooked up a diagnostic jack from one of the super computers in the lab. He ran a few simulations to test the devices boundaries.

He read the data readout from the screen and concluded that it would have to do. If he modified the behavioral programming to beset withsterner parameters, it could possibly kill Falcon. To quote Tiyamato, "it would be bad for business."

The deal would have fallen through, and Mewtwo hated to think what Tiyamato would do if he found his source of spare change with his brain liquefied on the floor.

He hefted the device once more, and headed towards the recreation area.

The area was the brainchild of Falcon, who demanded to have access to his wrestling shows.

"How have you not come to your senses regarding this show," he recalled asking the racer.

To that the racer replied, "What do you mean?"

He remembered mimicking him in mockery than responded, "The matches are all staged. The winners are pre-determined by the writers."

At that point, Falcon plugged his fingers into his ears and started singing. "Meow, meow, meow, meow, meow, meow, meow, meow, meow, meow, meow, meow,"

Mewtwo quickly banished that memory. That asinine chanting was a travestyto the art of music.

He floated to Falcon and dropped the device inhis bowl of popcorn.

Falcon picked it up between his thumb and forefinger.

Its appearance was unremarkable. It was circlet, about two centimeters thick. It was gray in colour. Dull, dull, and dull.

"What's this piece of crap do?" he asked.

"This piece of 'crap,'" said Mewtwo, doing the quotation signs with his paws, "as you so succinctly described, will be your savior."

Falcon starred at the device that at Mewtwo. He pointed a finger at it.

"Jesus is in there?" he said, awe in his voice.

Mewtwo slapped the back of Falcon's head.

"No, you moronic fool. You place this circlet upon your head. The device will make you civil, suppress your chronic need to fulfill your alcohol needs, and enhance your intelligence."

Mewtwo took moment to consider what he said. "I suppose it is the antithesis of the television. Here, place it on your head."

Falcon removed his helmet and slipped on the circlet. Mewtwo starred in astonishment.

"This is beyond words! You look exactly like-"

"I would appreciate it as a sign of generosity if you made no further comments about my appearance," said an even-tempered Falcon.

Mewtwo smile stretched from cheek to cheek.

"Excellent."


"Yes it's true," said Falcon before a press conference. "I have finished my rehabilitation a day ago. I'm eager to become a productive member of society once more."

While Falcon was answering the crowds of reporters, Mewtwo was behind the curtains, conversing with Mr. Tiyamato.

"Well," said a grinning Mewtwo, "I held up my end of the bargain. May I please have those DVDs now?"

Mr. Tiyamato was not sharing his feelings of merriment. He was frowning, deep in thought.

Mewtwo wiped the grin from his face. "Is there a flaw in my plan?"

Mr. Tiyamato nodded slightly. "I think there is, but I cannot determine what it is. Nevertheless, my instincts tell me that we're in for some trouble."

He signaled to his attack ninja to accompany himas he left the news conference.

Mewtwo brooded upon Tiyamato's words. What problem could there be?


Two fraternity brothers were lounging around in a bar. They slowly nursed their drinks. One drank a Jack Daniels; the other had scotch, neat.

"So," said the taller of the two, "do you think they notice the frat house brunt down?"

The second one shrugged.

"I hope not," he answered, "because they'll be looking for us next."

The tall one took out a kit-kat bar.

"I think it's time for a break."

The shorter one nodded. "I can't argue with that logic."

Before they could enjoy a well-deserved break, the doors of the bar busted open. He was clothed in tattered rags and his helmet had breaches in several areas, allowing bits of greasy hair to poke through.

He dashed up to the counter of the bar, startling the tender. He slammed both fists upon the oak and howled.

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOZZZZZZZZZZZEEEEEEEEE!"