Ah, humor; where would I be without you. Probably buried somewhere in Death Valley.
I do not own super smash brothers.
Captain Falcon was busy perusing the store inventory. He was assigned to pick up groceries, office supplies and some anime.
Instead, he decided to pick up a couple cases of Jack Daniels. Pffft. Typical Falcon.
He goes to the cashier and takes out his card. The cashier reads the card and his eyebrows lift.
"Escorts-R-Us?"
Falcon swiped it back. "It belongs to my friend," he said quickly. He withdraws a credit card.
The cashier swipes it and then looks at Falcon.
"Your card has been declined."
"What!" exclaimed Falcon. "That's impossible!"
The racer jumps upon the conveyor belt of checkout and strikes a dramatic pose.
"I'm the rich and great Captain Falcon!"
The cashier snickered. "You would be if it weren't for the hookers," he said under his breath.
"What was that?"
"I said you would still be rich if it weren't for the rice cookers."
"Of course!" shouted Falcon. "Marth and Roy must've used my credit card to charge for rice cookers!"
"Uhh…you shouldn't judge by stereotypes."
Falcon flat out ignored the cashier and did another round of dramatic posing and pointing. "To the Blue Falcon!" He proclaimed.
He raced out of the store and leapt into the Blue Falcon. Or he would have if the cockpit had opened.
THUD
Falcon crawled back onto his feet and asked for a status report from the Blue Falcon's computer.
"All systems are optimal," the computer said in a pleasing tone. "Fuel cells reserves are standing at .1."
"AH, crap. How did I ever forget to refuel you?"
(At the Duff brewery)
A tourist guide was showing the vats of crystal cool duff beer when one of the consumers fell into a vat.
"I'll save him!" said Falcon.
He dove in and started to drink the booze. The plan was to drink it all before the man drowned. He knew it was going to be tough, but heroes never took the easy way out.
In the midst of Falcon's heroics, the fallen tourist climbed out by way of a ladder. Meanwhile, the guide punched a button on an intercom.
"Sir, someone is swimming in one of the vats!"
The guide heard a sigh on the other end. "Again? Just fish them out and sell the contaminated beer as Duff Special or something like that."
Falcon gripped his head and wonder why he couldn't remember. In trying to reorganizing the jumbled mess that is his brain, one fact prevailed over all. And it pushed aside every voluntary thought including breathing.
When riding the ambulance, he became occupied with the sobering fact that he was broke. He was banned from racing for a year, and all temp agencies banned him for life. He had no outstanding or practical skills that could be applicable in every day life.
But he had strength and a shiny helmet. In this world, there were jobs that no one wanted. Someone would surely pay for the work, in the monetary sense, of course.
The power of his epiphany had him sitting upright. "That's it!" he said, "my path to wealth!"
The paramedics, noting Falcon was healthy and well, signaled the driver to turn off the sirens. They opened the back and shoved Falcon, bed cart and all onto the free way they were on.
…and so begins the tales of a lunatic and those unfortunate to be around him.
