Steve the Evil Tomato: (hops onto a stage) Ahem! DarkWarLordofDoomness, being a coward, has left me with the task of giving you all of her pathetic excuses/announcements. First, the excuses. (is holding list, despite lack of appendages with which to do so) Computer virus, file deletion after near-completion of chapter, crushed self-esteem, addiction to ice cream, stress, inspirational constipation, and...communism. Wow. And as for announcements...due to the anticipated release of a new Super Smash Brothers game when the new Nintendo system comes out, DWLoD will attempt to finish this story before the Revolution comes out. And then she wrote...ok, I can't read this. It's too illegible. I can make out "possibility of free online play" right there, and "w00t", but nothing else. So you can add "temporary fangirl insanity" to the list of excuses. Only scratch out the "temporary".
Disclaimer: Do you honestly still believe that DarkWarLordofDoomness has anything worth suing for? Because if you do, I pity you.
Chapter 11:Of A Journey's End and Pastagamy.
Samus had her cannon charged, and was ready to kick some serious rabid-fangirl butt in an all-out melee.
Marth was certain that he was going to die a horrible, rabid-fangirl-induced death. "Samus, if we get out of this alive," which he doubted,"Would you...would you..."
He took a deep steadying breath. "Would you go out with me?"
But Samus didn't hear Marth pour his soul into those words. For Fox and Crazy Hand had finally found their way back from the bathroom, and had unwittingly walked right into a large group of particularily rabid rabid fangirls. "NO!" she shouted at them, trying to warn them. Marth thought it was aimed at him.
Marth was heartbroken. REJECTION stamped itself into his soul in big, ugly, red letters. The same sort of letters that usually spell 'F' out on some paper you poured your heart and soul into, but that stupid teacher of yours doesn't recognize the genius of your story and tells you it "needs more work". Pure jealousy, I tell you! Oh, right, Marth. You want to know about his heartbreak, not mine. You couldn't care less about my suffering, nooooo...Okay, fine. Marth. Pain. Angst. Trauma. Pathetic sobbing. Happy now?
Anyways, so Samus, deaf to all but the little voice in her head screaming, "KILL THE FANGIRLS!", dramatically blasted the glass of the telephone booth, causing it to fly everywhere, and made a huge mess. I mean, think about it? Glass everywhere. Even though I dislike rabid fangirls, having found them to be very bad at making intelligent conversation, and even though this is all coming from my head, even I must feel sorry for those unfortunate fools who were wearing sandals. And the poor janitor. He has to clean up all the blood. Really, he's been getting the short shrift these past two chapters. I'll tell Steve to get him a donut.
Alas, I ramble. Back to Samus.
She jumped out of the phone booth, and proceeded to frantically kick the butt of the rabid fangirls around her. Roy joined in, but was sadly unable to continue fighting because he and a fangirl were engaged in a battle of tug-of-war over his sword.
And Marth...poor Marth. Poor, poor, poor Marth. But, after a bit, he was able to get over some of his suffering and actually be useful. As for Crazy Hand and Fox...they were ignored by the rabid fangirls. Well, they were until they joined in on the fight.
'Twas a fierce battle indeed. On one side, there were the various strengths of the Smashers. On the other, the rabitity of the paranephilia obsessed fangirls. It raged on for what seemed like eternity...
But was actually around five minutes long.
For five minutes later, the poor, overworked janitor came in. He was carrying a mop and an empty bucket. Out of pure spite, the fangirls decided to make his job more difficult and attacked him. Startled, he had no choice but to drop his bucket and begin a kung-fu style fight, using his mop as a weapon. In slow motion, he leaped into the air...and slapped the rabid fangirl in the face with the mop. Startled, insulted, and slightly nauseated after being slapped in the face with the wet end of a moldy, foul-smelling mop, she stumbled backwards. While she attempted to regain her balance, she accidentally kicked the bucket and sent it sailing through the air. It landed on the head of the long-suffering Marth.
Marth stumbled around, trying to remove the bucket. But, somehow, it was stuck. This made him get rather panicky, I mean, who knows what has been in that bucket? And here it was, touching his hair. It's enough to make anyone go squick inside. In a last-ditch effort to calm himself, he began to take deep breaths. With the bucket over his head, it created a rather interesting effect. He sounded a bit like he was on a respirator. "Roy? A little help here?"
Roy, having finally reclaimed his sword, attempted to pull the bucket off. Now, Roy is no pansy, but that bucket was STUCK. If it was capable of sentience and speech, it would be calling Roy mean things and the saying, "Nyah nyah! Loser!"
Roy was unable to remove the bucket, but he is a smart cookie and had other ideas.
"Marth, do not move."
"Why not?"
Roy poked two holes into the bucket with his sword so that Marth could see. Marth freaked out for quite a bit afterwards, calling Roy insane and the like.
Remember kids: Sharp, pointy objects are fun, I mean, dangerous. You could poke out someone's eye. Which makes them extremely cool, I mean, bad. Very bad.
After a while, Marth felt better since he knew his eyes were still intact. Unfortunately, there were still problems.
1) He had a bucket on his head.
2) He suddenly didn't have his sword anymore.
3) The bucket on his head made him sound like he was on a respirator.
4) The two holes he was looking through really didn't offer much in the way of peripheral vision.
5) A rabid fangirl had his sword.
'Wait..my sword! No!' Marth focused his mind, trying to call the sword to him. It shook in the fangirl's grip. He tried harder. A drop of sweat trickled down from his forehead.
The sword was yanked from the fangirl's grip and flew through the air towards Marth. He caught it, and reveled in his triumph. He had mastered the Force! From now on, he was no longer Marth...he was Marth Vader!
"Ohmigawd," said one rabid fangirl. "Who is that?" She did not recognize Marth, since he had a bucket on his head.
"Like, GASP! I think that is a Star Wars fan!"
"Ohmigawd, a cosplaying Star Wars fan!"
"Like, run away! Like, before someone dressed up as JarJarBinx shows up!"
The rabid fangirls fled in a massive stampede of pink and girlyness.
"That was easy." remarked Samus.
They boarded the Subway car, and sat down.
Several minutes passed.
"When will we get there?"
Samus looked at Fox. She then looked at Marth, who still had the bucket on his head. Her gaze turned to Roy, who was trying to persuade Crazy Hand to poke the foul-smelling bum a few seats down. "Not for a really, really, really long time, Fox. CRAZY! DIDN'T I TELL YOU TO LEAVE THE BUMS ALONE!"
Back at the mansion...
"I love her kindness, her intelligence, her...vivaciousness!" Ganondorf gushed about Mary-Sue.
"Vivaciousness?" Mewtwo said, clearly unimpressed by Ganondorf's vocabulary. "Die. Die and come back as a more sentient being."
"You dare insult me?" Ganondorf roared. "I challenge you to a Pokemon battle!"
"Accepted." Mewtwo looked across the room, where Pikachu, Pichu, and Jigglypuff were. Pichu was playing a game on her GameBoySP. Pikachu was absorbed in making precise blueprints, and Jigglypuff was napping in an overstuff chair. "I choose you, Pikachu."
Pikachu glanced up, and then ignored him. Pichu looked up and saw that a battle was about to start. She dropped her GameBoySP and started jumping up and down, squealiing "Pichu!" and waving her little paws in a desparate attempt to get attention. Unfortunately, she was jumping up and down on the SP.
Mewtwo levitated Jigglypuff and sent her flying into the conveniently located battle area in the room.
"I've chosen my Pokemon."
Pichu sat down, her ears drooping dejectedly.
Jigglypuff, her nap interrupted, began to curse so explicitly that Pikachu actually stopped drawing his blueprints to cover Pichu's ears.
Ganondorf laughed. "My rattata will defeat Jigglypuff easily! I've had him for years!" He threatrically opened his Pokeball.
An assortment of bones fell out of it, and dissolved into dust as soon as they touched the floor.
"Oh...th-that's right, I forgot...Pokemon like food, don't they?"
Pichu, still unhappy over not being picked, recieved another unhappy shock. She had broken her SP. He wonderful SP was now in tons of pieces on the floor. She sunk into a deep depression for five minutes. Desolate, she wandered up to her room. What would she do now..? But then hope flooded through her when she saw a game catalogue on the floor. A Nintendo DS! She clipped out the add and brought it downstairs, and searched the house until she found Mary-Sue.
Smiling her very best, cutest little Pichu smile, Pichu held up the clipping.
"Oh, you want this?" Mary Sue leaned over and smiled at Pichu, looking like a benevolent angel.
Pichu nodded, ears flapping.
Mary Sue straightened, and the air around her seemed to be tinged red. "TOO BAD, you can't have it! SO SUFFER!" She began to laugh like a maniac.
Decidedly freaked out, Pichu ran. Once back in her room and safely away from the crazy lady, she examined the clipping. FIne then. If Mary Sue wouldn't let her buy it, she would buy it herself. She looked at the price.
$149.99
Pichu's mind raced. 150 dollars? Where would she get that amount?
In the kitchen (which was still in the process of being remodeled after the ant escapade), Peach was confronting Mario about Mary Sue.
"It's either me or her!"
Mary Sue chose this moment to walk in. She smiled sweetly. "What's going on?"
Peach whirled around and glared at her. "What going on? You're leaving, that's what! And if, for some reason," Peach glared at Mario,"Mario chooses you over me, then I'm leaving!" she spat.
Mary Sue's expression changed to one of woe. "It's such a shameyou're going toleave."
"Just what does that mean?"
By now, every Smasher, excluding Pichu, was in the kitchen watching this unfold. The guys in particular were watching with a certain air of despair. Mario, would of course, choose Mary Sue. They doubted that he would let them flirt with her then.
Peach and Mary Sue stood in front of the kitchen table, waiting for Mario to make his decision.
Mario looked at them both, and, as everyone watched with baited breath, walked forward.
Several stories up, Pichu held up a hammer. In front of her was her piggy bank, so beautiful, delicate, and shiny. Pichu prepared to strike.
"I-a choose..."
Pichu slammed down the hammer.
"Pasta!" He walked over to where a bowl of pasta sat on the table.
"WHAT?" Mary Sue and Peach shrieked in unision.
"I-a have-a always-a loved pasta a above all-a else, and now-" He knelt before the Italian cuisine and held out a diamond ring,"Pasta, will you a-marry me?"
A noodle fell out of the bowl and flopped onto the ring. Crying with happiness, Mario carried the pasta out to one of the cars, and they left for a wedding in Las Vegas.
Leaving everyone else dumb with shock.
Peach snapped out of the stupor first, and ran sobbing out of the kitchen. Mary Sue flipped her hair.
'So one thing didn't go quite according to plan. No matter. I will have control of the Smashers either way.'
Pink pieces of piggish porcelain flew everywhere. Pichu clawed through the remains of her piggy bank, seeking precious change. She counted her money, and her face fell and her ears drooped.
Less than 15 dollars.
Pichu rarely handled money, so this was a lot...But compared to a hundred and fifty, it was nothing.
Peach remained in her room, sobbing her eyes out. Various people had tried to comfort her, with various degrees of success.
Link, Zelda, Luigi, and Yoshi stood outside Peach's door.
"C'mon Peach, it's not that bad..."
"Yeah, I mean, sure, he chose a bowl of pasta over you," The wailing from behind Peach's door grew louder,"but it's not like he's actually going to marry it."
"Link..."
"What?"
"He IS going to marry a bowl of pasta." said Luigi.
"Holy crap."
"Yeah."
"Peach, everything's going to be fine!" Zelda said as soothingly as she could while yelling over the noise of Peach's wailing.
"Actually, Peach, you should be glad he left and all. I mean, seriously, that guy must be bonkers or something." Peach's crying died down a bit at this, and Link, emboldened, continued. "I mean, he loved pasta more than you..." Peach started to sob louder than ever at this. "Aw crap."
"Smooth."
Hours after they had all given up and gone to bed, Peach remained awake. The tears finally stopped, but her heart remained torn. Hiccoughing, she tried to figure out how exactly to express how she felt. She didn't know how she would, she just knew that she needed to. She dried her face, and a lonely thought occurred to her.
'Poetry.'
Peach took out a piece of paper, found a pen, and began to express her torment.
"My soul is now dead.
I don't like wheat bread.
I knew a guy named Ed.
I have hair on my head.
I feel bad today.
Today is a weekday.
I have something to say.
I don't eat hay."
She paused and took at look at what she had written. Feeling proud of herself, she continued to write more.
"I don't like to think.
My favorite color is pink.
Mario's socks stink."
Peach stopped. What else rhymed with "think"?
'This poetry stuff is harder than I thought it was.' She chewed on a nail, then wrote the final line of her poem.
"My pen has ink."
It was done. Peach had poured her soul into the piece of paper, and she felt so much better now that she thought that she should do this more often. With that, she went to sleep.
Six hours later...
A very tired Samus walked up the walkway to the front door. In the course of several days, she had traveled on foot over a very large distance, climbed up a mountain, had to deal with an emaciated midget that tried to kill her, wait in an endless line for allergy medicine, fight endless hordes of fangirls, and spent about a dozen hours riding the subway while trying to keep Crazy Hand from poking one of those sleeping bums that tend to populate subways, while answering/ignoring endless questions from Roy and Fox, and then she had to get that bucket off of Marth's head, and slap some sense into him because he kept going on about the Dark Side and how he was no longer Marth but Marth Vader. It had been a really, really long week.
Samus fought to keep her eyes open, and simply lifting her hand up to the door handle required a huge amount of will power. It was now that a thought occurred to her.
'Why the hell didn't we take a car?' Since she lacked the ability to turn back time, she ignored the thought, and tried to open the door.
It was locked.
"...You have got to be kidding me."
The door was not kidding her. It was locked. Samus turned back to look at the others standing behind her. Crazy Hand floated low to the ground, and barely had enough energy to twitch more than once every two minutes. Marth was kissing the ground, grateful to finally get back so that he could finally have a shower. Roy was telling Fox that he'd be happy if he never even so much as saw another secret evil lair. Fox was pretending to listen while he was on the verge of falling asleep while standing.
"It's locked." stated Samus dully.
The others mumbled various noises of surprise, and waited.
"What?" she growled.
"Well, aren't you going to do something?"
"I have done enough in the past week to more than last me for a month. You do something for once."
Roy walked over to the door, and began to charge his sword.
Everyone in the mansion was jerked awake as a loud explosion sounded, and they all crowded downstairs to see what the heck that was. They were amazed to see Samus, Crazy Hand, Fox, Marth and Roy.
"We're back." announced Samus with all the enthusiasm of someone who has gotten very little sleep in the past few days.
"Wow!"
"You look like a wreck!"
"What happened?"
"Tell us everything!"
Samus fired a missile into the ceiling.
The Smashers fell silent.
"I am tired. I've spent the past few days constantly fighting rabid fangirls to keep them from killing Marth and Roy, standing in pharmacy lines, climbing mountains, and riding the subway while Crazy Hand harassed the local bums. I will tell you about what happened, but only after I get some sleep."
"Did you really-"
"The first person to interrupt my sleep, dies. Got that?"
"What about the second per-"
"He, or she, will also die. Good night." Samus trudged up the stairs.
Everyone else looked at eachother, and also went back to bed. Well, except Marth. He took a shower. Then he went to sleep. And Mary Sue. She stood in the darkness for a long time, trying to figure out how to best go about her evil, maniacal, horrible plan.
In Las Vegas...
"WOOO! In your face, slot machine!" Master Hand crowed as he gathered the tokens. He had won 200 of the shiny little things. So what if he had to spend about 400 before he won?
"Master-a Hand-a? A-what are you-a doing-a here?"
Master Hand froze. He definately knew that accent.
"Mario?"
"It's a-me!"
"What are you doing here?"
"I'm a married-a man-a now!"
"So, in the few days that I was gone, you and Peach finally got married."
"Um, a-no. I-a married-a Pasta!" Mario showed him the bowl of pasta. One of the noodles had a diamond ring on it.
"Isn't she-a beautiful-a!"
"I think it's time we left Las Vegas."
"What-a? Why?"
'Because you seem to have gone insane, and chances are that if I don't return, the mansion will get blown up-if it hasn't already.' he thought, but didn't stay. Instead, he said, "Because I've been gone too long."
"But Pasta and-a I-a haven't begun our-a honeymoon-a yet."
"You can go on one later."
"Okay-a, but I-a will leave only-a after we-a eat-a at this-a restaurant-a. It's-a five-a star."
So Mario, Pasta, and Master Hand ate at the five-star restaurant.
"Mario, how are you going to pay for this?"
"Oh, that'sa right, I didn't a-think about that-a."
'Oh crap.' Master Hand floated out of his seat. "I think it's time we left."
"Sure-a. Are you-a ready, Pasta?...Pasta?" Mario saw the bowl Pasta had been in. It was empty. "NOO!"
Master Hand vaguely recalled eating pasta when Mario had gone to the bathroom. 'Whoops.'
"You must have eaten it, um, her and didn't notice." A waiter came up and gave them the check. "I think it's time we left."
"Pasta..."
Some time later and a good distance away from the restaurant, Mario held a small funeral for Pasta. As the casket containing her bowl was buried, Mario broke down and began to sob. The priest read the eulogy.
"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, and...you already know the rest. My time's up." The priest took off his robes. Underneath was an Elvis costume. He brushed his hair into a style that looked vaguely like that of Elvis'. "I'm supposed to make an appearance at someone's wedding."
Master Hand waited for a few minutes as Mario cried for his lost love, and then cleared his throat. "I feel your pain, Mario." Mario nodded, tears still streaming down his face. "Now can we get going?"
It's the end of the chapter now, if you didn't alreay know that.
DarkWarLordofDoomness: Now that was an eventful chapter.
Audience: (sees DarkWarLordofDoomness)
Audience Member: You will pay for your lousy updating record!
DarkWarLordofDoomness: EEP! Angry mob. Bad. Very bad. Um, bye! (runs)