I do not own Smash Brothers. BEEPBEEPBEEP Wha…I had the weirdest dream. I dreamt I wrote a fanfic. You were there, you were there, and you were there-

Falcon's Tale of Woe

Mewtwo pointed a free finger at Falcon. "You seem to be the most pathetic of this group. Did you attend an idiot convention?"

"How did you know where I went?" uttered a puzzled Falcon.

He notices the stares in his direction.

"I knew it,"exclaimed Fox, "there's no way that a person can get that dumb by themself!"

"Did you manage to get through the front door," inquired Mewtwo.

"N-yes, of course. Who wouldn't be able operate a standard oak door with brass knob. Why, it's as easy as breathing."

Again, they starred quizzically at him.

Again, the eyes, those searing EYES that dissected his mind to lay bare the hideous truth he strove to keep hidden. He tried, he really did, but these masters of interrogation were just too much. He could feel them discerning his answer, already sifting through the lies to uncover his secret.

Falcon fell sobbing to the ground. "No! No, I couldn't open the door! I went through an open window! Are you all happy! A mere door defeated the great Captain Falcon!"

They waited patiently for him to pull himself together.

"Did you try pulling the door open," asked Mewtwo.

Falcon wipes the rest of his tears. "I never thought of that."

"So," asked Fox, "what was it called? 'Idiots Anonymous?'"

"No," replied Falcon, "but you're close."

"Falcon," the AA councillor said, "you have to turn the knob near a full rotation, and then pull the door towards you."

Falcon mechanically nodded his head, trying to get through another meeting without falling asleep.

"Barney," asked the councillor, "tells us how you've been doing."

Barney stood up, belched and passed out.

"Very good, Barney!" complemented the councillor. "Usually you pass out at the beginning of our sessions."

This went on for about two hours with the councillor's mood ranging from pleased to disbelief.

"Homer, get out!" demanded the councillor.

"Humph! I know when I, and my whisky, am not appreciated." Homer stuck up his nose at him. "Good night, sir."

With head held high, he unwittingly stumbled out the open window.

"Okay," said the councillor, over the screams of pain, "I think we should stop here."

As the members of the meeting called in their rides, Falcon stepped discretely outside. Once he determines that annoying councillor was nowhere in sight, he unscrewed the lid of his bottle of Jack Daniels.

"Baby," he spoke seductively to the bottle, "where would I be without you?"

Barney, catching a whiff of the potent alcohol, immediately awoke and somersaulted through the open window with the proficiency of an Olympic gymnast.

"Care to spare a few sips," he asked Falcon.

Falcon cradled the bottle. "No!" he bluntly replied.

"Give me the bottle!" shouted Barney.

"Never!" shouted Falcon defiantly.

They each grabbed the neck of the bottle and pulled. The jostling split large portions of the liquor on both of them, drenching both in a foul smell.

When the last drop evacuated the glass bottle, they froze.

Barney eyes immediately became teary. "Because we couldn't share," he croaked in a hoarse voice, "we got none."

Falcon arched his eyebrows. "It was mine to begin with, you fat piece of crap!"

Barney removed a filthy handkerchief from his hip pocket, blew his nose, and wiped his face.

"So who won?" he asked.

"Good question," replied Falcon, "none of us had a drop of alcohol."

"I got the most on my shirt," declared Barney.

"No," countered Falcon, "I do."

"Wait why argue like sissies," questioned Barney. "Let's settle it the man's way."

Falcon nodded. "Agreed," he said.

Barney takes out a Zippo lighter from his back pocket.

"We'll light each other on fire," explained Barney, "whoever remains lit obviously has the most alcohol on their clothing."

Falcon nodded, conceding to Barney's logic. "I can see nothing wrong with that."

"You got your own lighter?" asked Barney.

Falcon takes it out his lighter from the crotch area of his pants. He notices the weird face Barney was making.

Falcon points a finger at his nether region. "I don't stuff my crotch!"

Barney shrugged. "Whatever. Okay, on three."

"And so," said Falcon, reaching the dramatic conclusion to his tale, "we lit ourselves on fire. I would've beaten Barney if someone hadn't phoned the fire department."

The Smashers didn't hear his final words. They were rolling around in uncontrollable mirth, bellowing laughs that shook the windows. Mewtwo just glared at Falcon before reading a section from his morning paper.