I do not own Super Smash Brothers. Gotta deal with it somehow...
Roy
"Now Mr. Roy," said a middle-aged nurse, "these men are veterans from WWII. Their war experiences are still traumatizing to most of them. I expect you to use your 'indoor' voice."
Roy nodded, and set about to do his volunteer work.
Sheesh, yelling war cries on top of the tallest structures you can find was not only illegal; it was deemed as psychotic behavior. He gave the judge a piece of his mind, as well as unintentionally giving him temporary deafness.
They just could not understand him. No one could.
As he wheeled the medicine cart, he called the names that were on the labels. To everyone else, it came out as a savage war cry.
"What, what was that!" said one elderly man, as whipped his head back and forth to find the yeller.
"Uh-oh," said Jasper, jadedly, "it sounds like America's enemies are at it again."
"For God's sake, Jasper!"shouted his checkers opponent, angrily, "You can't keep pulling that crap every time you're losing!"
Abe Simpson stood up from his chair and waved his cane.
"Greatest generation to the rescue!" he proclaimed, with great sprit.
The elderly clambered into their automotive wheel chairs and went after Roy, with steel canes waving.
Roy took one look and fled the scene.
He made it outside and thought he was in the clear. After all, how fast can old people run?
He looked back, his eyes bugging out from what he saw. WWII vintage tanks were chasing him.
"Sir," said the now former tank pilot, "I really need this tank back before the parade starts."
"Yeah, yeah," replied Abe, absently, "you'll get it back when we flatten this punk!"
The tank pilot shrugged and sat down in the gunner's seat. He watched as the old man begins laughing manically and pushes the tank's throttle to full.
Marth
Two young women were walking through a hiking path when they came across something peculiar.
Off the trail, in the trees, was a blue hair man, clad in armor and leather. The Tiara was weirdest thing about him.
"Minna Mitette Kure!" shouted Marth to the women, while waving his arms.
"What's he saying?" asked one of the women.
"I don't know," replied the other. "I think he is saying, 'Hey guys, check this out!'"
Marth repeated the call, only he pointed downwards.
"Is he pointing at his crotch!" said one, horrified.
"He's nothing but a pervert!" shrieked the other. "C'mon, we shouldn't encourage him. Let's get out of here!"
Marth watched in dismay as the women yelled obscenities at him and walked away in a huff. He bowed his shoulders in lament, which caused him to sink a few more inches into the quicksand. Already, he was in waist deep.
American women, he just could not understand them.
