The data flowed across the screen of the tablet computer at a near-breakneck pace. Most of it reported on the status conditions of various systems. Ambient temperatures, water pressure, electrical power readings, and many other reports were keeping the display active. Fortunately, these were largely static conditions that didn't require input, but they were important enough to require ready access to in case a disruption occurred somewhere.
If a light bulb so much as flickered in any of the arenas, Maxwell would know about it.
Every so often, queries requiring his input would pop up. Minute little adjustments kicked up the proverbial ladder until it landed in his lap. Fortunately, he was created with the capacity to handle the workload, which could admittedly be a lot worse; these were just last-minute clarifications. The bulk of the work had already been finished over the course of the last month, and Maxwell was fairly sure the workers were looking for something to occupy their minds.
Maxwell sighed and refrained from voicing that thought as he denied the latest query. There was no need to shift the posts of the rope barriers again.
"Something wrong, Maxwell?" Master Hand asked from the massive workstation to the Mii's left. The giant appendage didn't stop his rapid typing, but Maxwell still felt his gaze…somehow. The other Miis in the Main Control Room didn't look up from their tasks, for the large glove conversing with his personal assistant was as regular as the sun rising.
"I don't think the worker teams quite understand the concept of 'work complete', but I recall a similar sentiment during the last Opening Ceremonies, so…" Maxwell shrugged as he trailed off, his eyes absently scanning over the latest report; this one stating that the pest control system was in nominal condition. There shouldn't even be any pests, but the decisions on things like flora, fauna, and weather patterns were out of his jurisdiction. That was all Crazy Hand's territory, and he demanded such uncontrollable elements. The only concession he allowed was that the weather be clear during major events like this.
Speaking of Crazy Hand…
With a few presses on his tablet, Maxwell pulled up displays detailing the sound and lighting readouts. "How have the microphone, headset, and speaker tests performed?"
Master Hand typed for about a minute before he responded. "Yes, that's right; you were trying to resolve that situation where the Security Team found a guest snooping around the Residential District. The audio has been performing properly. Crazy's microphone had a little hiss, but our engineers were able to get that smoothed over. Speakers have been tested and checked in triplicate. Broadcast uplinks are also showing that they're ready to go." He paused for a moment, surprise written in his posture, before continuing with an amused tone. "This is a strange role-reversal…usually I'm the one pestering you for updates."
Maxwell chuckled, skimming through another report. This one was about provisions distributed to the concession stands. "Apologies for overstepping my bounds, sir; the more I know, the more chaff I can prevent from requiring your attention."
The giant hand hummed in thought for a moment. "You make a sound argument. This…should not be a surprise, considering your abilities." A laugh sounded from nowhere, and the hand started typing again. "Are the transports ready to bring our competitors to the Arena tonight?"
"Ah, yes sir," Maxwell stated, swiping over to the pertinent display on his tablet. "Shuttle buses in a variety of sizes are ready to bring the Smashers in through the north vehicle ramp. Per your orders, the windows of the transports' passenger areas have been tinted to one hundred percent opacity from the outside. The route from the Residential District has been planned to pass by the spectators still waiting in line outdoors." He tapped the display a couple more times. "Once they reach the drop-off point in the arena, Gerald will take the veterans to the Red Side accommodations and Pat will bring the newcomers and those returning from absences to the Blue Side."
"I see…" Master Hand punched a few keys, and the image of a schedule was projected into the air. "Please confirm this for me."
Maxwell pulled up his own schedule, and stood beside his creator's desk in order to see both spreadsheets simultaneously. "Let's see what we have here. At six o'clock in the evening, we start the broadcast; static image card to be replaced by a countdown timer at six-thirty. At seven sharp we have the video package, followed by in-house pyrotechnics. Cameras will pan around the crowd—as will our spotlights—and our crews will switch between several different cameras for dynamic cuts of the spectators. The static camera will not be in use during this time. After the spectacle ends, the broadcast announcer teams will start welcoming the viewers at home and hyping up the presentation for the night."
Master Hand bobbed his fist in a nod, and gestured for Maxwell to continue.
The Mii adjusted his gold glasses and scrolled through the schedule. "Crazy Hand will make his appearance and run down the new features of the tournament, hyping up the crowd as best as he can in between each breakdown. New match styles, new items, and most of the new simulacra to be featured in the Assist Trophies and Poké Balls. He will then talk about most of the new stages, with videos about them playing on the in-house monitors as well as the broadcast."
He took a deep breath he didn't need to take before continuing. "Following that, we have the veteran Smashers making their individual entrances. We start with Mario, and end with Bayonetta." He then held his tablet close to his face. "Am I reading this right? Epsilon Counterparts are coming out after, and not alongside, the veterans?"
"All but the two that already fought last season," Master Hand clarified. "I have been informed that since the rest of them are new arrivals, the introduction order should be changed accordingly." He drummed his fingertips on the desk for a brief moment. "It technically does not throw off the schedule, and it ensures their inclusion has an impact if they have a separate appearance."
"I see now," Maxwell hesitantly assented. "As far as I can tell, the rest of the written schedule appears to be in order, so I think all we can do from here is wait and see what happens."
Master Hand was silent for a few moments, lightly tapping his thumb to each fingertip in rapid succession. "It's a long time for the spectators to sit through, I admit, but I think there's enough variety in the information being presented that their attention will be held until we start parading the Smashers out for everyone to see. From there, we should have everyone's attention for the rest of the program."
Maxwell set the tablet down on his desk and smiled up at the glove. "I know you've been purposefully avoiding reviewing the footage of their entrance rehearsals, which surprises me. I think you're going to be in for a pleasant surprise with what everyone put together. There's a wonderful variety of presentations; ranging from short and simple to lengthy and elaborate, with everything in between. There's been a considerable amount of time allotted for all of this." Maxwell hesitated for a second. "Which I suppose doesn't matter, since we own the channel, the venue, and the equipment."
A low chuckle resonated from the disembodied hand, and he resumed typing on his keyboard. "Indeed, but we would like our attendees to not be sitting there for five hours straight." A large index finger was pointed at the last bit of the schedule, which was empty. "So let us review how we are going to close out tonight's broadcast…"
If Popo was sitting down, both of his legs would be doing that annoying bouncy thing. Instead, he was constantly shifting his weight from one foot to the other as they waited outside for their designated shuttle to swing by and pick them up. Nana attempted to ignore the shuffling as she went over the gear they were bringing to tonight's spectacle. Unfortunately for her, no matter which way she turned, at least one of her senses would be tuned into his movement. It was a crucial skill to have when climbing a mountain, but a touch annoying in this specific situation.
Not that she was in any position to blame him; she was just as nervous as he was.
"Have you seen it come by yet?" He inquired, constantly sweeping his gaze up and down their street. Nana was immediately reminded of their first climbing expedition together. He'd insisted on standing guard when they made camp, even though most animals weren't dumb enough to move around Icicle Mountain at night. His nervous posture as he constantly surveyed the approaches to their tent was the exact same display he was putting on now, height difference notwithstanding.
Shaking her head and smiling, she walked up and hugged him from behind. "If you didn't see it, then I sure as heck didn't! Just relax, Popo." As he turned to look at her, she pressed the side of her face to his, delighting in the feel of their cheeks squishing against one another. Already she could feel him slacken in her arms with a happy grumbling sound.
As she held Popo, Nana looked in the general direction of the District's entrance, which was off to their right. As her gaze moved along, she caught sight of their neighbors who were also waiting to be picked up. Bowser was the easiest to spot, muttering to himself as he struck up facsimiles of poses and then nodding. A little further down she saw Peach and Daisy conversing. While they chatted, Peach was looking straight at Nana with an expression she couldn't read from this distance, but if Nana was a betting girl, she figured it had to do with the computer message she'd received a couple days ago; there was going to be a 'girl's day out' planned, on a day still to be determined, but definitely sometime after tonight's Opening Ceremonies.
Even though Popo was supportive, Nana had reservations about going. She just wasn't sure how well she fit in with the other girl Smashers. After thinking about it some, she decided that no one was really alike and eventually sent a reply saying she'd be there. She didn't know what to expect, but whatever happened, it would be a far cry from the Women's Circle doldrums back home; generally a lot of banal gossip while they performed mindless domestic tasks, whenever Nana happened to have time to join in.
Further reflections were (thankfully) halted when a low rumbling sound cut through the proverbial fog. Looking for the source of the noise, Nana grinned when she spotted the first of numerous transports moving through the road that connected the ends of the District's different streets together. She knew Popo was also now aware of their arrival, when she felt him become a little less limp in her arms. Planting a quick kiss to his cheek, Nana released her hold on him and stepped back towards their gear bags.
"Keep an eye out for our ride; I'm gonna do a quick check to make sure you didn't forget a mitten or one of your crampons." She knelt down near their luggage and started rifling through the compartments. "Remember, they said the one coming for us is the S-7 shuttle."
"Right, S-7," Popo echoed with a nod, and he returned to his sentry role. "How're you feeling about our entrance? I suddenly feel like I've forgotten what to do tonight…"
"I feel you, but I know how diligent we've been," Nana said, quickly verifying the contents of their bags with her mental checklist. Fortunately, there was no need for almost any of their actual climbing equipment, so they had no need for their pitons, extra ropes, tent, bedrolls, canteens, or rations. Not that they brought any of that here except for their canteens. "We've probably done at least a hundred runs, and even squeezed in 'safety' sessions after we'd perfected it." She hesitated, taking the time to close up their bags. "Am I gonna have to hug you again just to keep your nerves down?"
"If I need an excuse now, then yes," He laughed nervously while he watched the end of their street. Once vehicles started to come their way, Popo's vigilance increased. Nana had to try really hard not to laugh at how his face lit up upon seeing one drive along their side of the street, only to deflate with dejection once it drove past. Less than a minute later though, their lift finally pulled up to the curb as Nana was tossing Popo's bag to him.
The vehicle was the same as the on-demand shuttles they'd used from time to time two months ago, but this one had a special paint job to match the exterior of the Primary Arena: white with black accents—even the windows were painted over. The bisected circle logo was painted in red over the rearmost windows on the sides and back of the vehicle. There were also some weird lights at the corners of the boxy passenger hold, spinning inside red transparent casings. The brown-haired Mii at the controls of the vehicle waved genially, a broad grin flickering into view as she pressed the button for the passenger hold to open.
"Hello, you two! Hop on in and we can get this show on the road!" She said in a cheery tone. "I'd suggest you take the left side for the best view as we loop around the Primary Arena."
Nana and Popo said their own hellos and took a seat in the back left of the passenger hold, with their bags resting in their laps. The moment they'd settled into their bench seat, the transport smoothly disembarked. Their pilot was skilled in threading the vehicle through the light traffic, and could be heard communicating with who Nana assumed were other drivers via a radio system.
Popo scratched under his nose with his thumb as he stared out the window. "Wonder why this one's not as large as the others... I understand some are needed for the bigger Smashers like Bowser or Donkey Kong, but," he pointed out the dimmed window to one of the vehicles they were maneuvering around. "That one's got a lot of people already in it, with room for a lot more. Doesn't make any sense…"
His question was partially answered when their small bus stopped in front of the habitat that housed Pichu. The door opened, allowing the creature to scamper aboard. It stood in the aisle and peered around curiously before Nana leaned out from behind the cover of the seats in front of them and waved to get its attention.
"Pi," it squeaked cheerfully, dashing the short distance and hopping into Nana's lap.
"Hey, little buddy!" Nana chirped, scratching behind Pichu's kite-shaped ears. "You ready for the big day?"
"Pichu!" it stated with an enthusiastic nod, small arcs of electricity sparking off the pink circles on its cheeks.
Popo's hand slowly moved into view, and he hesitantly scratched under the chin of the pokémon. As Pichu tilted its head up to allow this, the vehicle lurched with sudden acceleration as it departed towards the next stop. Spooked by the jarring motion, Pichu quickly pulled itself onto Popo's hand and ran up his arm to nervously cling to his shoulder. Popo remained as still as he could, clearly worried about accidental shock.
Eventually they both calmed down; Popo didn't get zapped, and Pichu got some pets and scratches. Nana frowned as she looked out the windows on the right, watching their vehicle settle in position in front of the lot that held (Young) Link's strange tree house.
Once again, the door opened and Link stepped aboard. Being significantly taller than Pichu, he had no trouble in spotting the climbers and slid into the seat in front of theirs. He took a moment to set his sword, shield, and a small bag of what Nana assumed was a change of clothes onto the seat beside him and before turning around to kneel on it and face them.
"You know," He began, resting his arms on the back-rest of his seat. "If I didn't know better, I'd say they were giving us our own private ride."
Nana nodded with a very small shrug. "I won't complain; I'm willing to take the special treatment at this point. If extra spending money and these little favors are their way of apologizing, then who am I to stop them?"
Link nodded, lazily reaching out to join in on Popo's doting on the Pichu. "Hey, if it means not having to ride with him, I'll take it."
It didn't take a genius to know who Link was talking about; the various hero incarnations suddenly finding themselves having to share a space with the one negative constant bridging their lives together must be troublesome. This was just one of the perks to having no real enemies of their own—it's not like the condor was living in their home or anything!
By now, the pilot had turned onto another street in the Housing District. They pulled to a stop before a lot with a cabin set towards the back, and a number of pine trees planted in front. It was similar in appearance to Nana and Popo's place, but the wood was darker. There was also a steel and concrete building attached to the west end of the cabin. Snake, who was patiently waiting under one of the trees, had just stubbed out his cigarette before he shouldered his duffel bag and strolled towards their vehicle. As he came aboard, a knowing smirk crossed his lips and he took a seat on the right side of the transport.
"Riding in style, separate from everyone else," Snake rumbled in that trademark gravelly voice of his. "You know if we do this every time we go the Arena, I could get used to it."
"If they stock this thing with snacks and drinks from now on, they've got a deal," Popo said with a smile. There were no other shuttles on this street yet, so theirs was free to drive along the sidewalk until it stopped two lots over in front of a modern-looking home. It looked a touch more advanced than Ness's abode, but not by much. Standing curbside were the two Pokémon trainers, Red and Leaf, who wasted no time in hopping aboard.
"Hey," Red simply said in a soft voice, and he took his seat next to the passenger area's door. Everyone knew engaging him in conversation was an exercise in futility, so Nana didn't seek out any further pleasantries. Not that they didn't get along, or anything; she and Popo knew what it was like to not be particularly engaging. Besides, his friend Leaf had taken it upon herself to be his mouthpiece, whether the champion trainer wanted it or not.
"Is that all you're gonna say, you jerk?" Leaf huffed as she twirled into the closest seat behind Red. "Hello everyone; don't mind him," she said in a much friendlier voice to everyone else. Red simply rolled his eyes and went through his backpack for a bit before locating a water bottle and taking a swig from it.
As the vehicle started to move again, Nana switched between idle conversation with Leaf and Link, and occasionally stopping to pet Pichu after it had leapt back into her lap. Within a few minutes, they picked up Wolf—who grunted a gruff greeting and promptly took a seat in the front left across from where Red sat—and their pilot happily announced that everyone was accounted for before turning their transport back towards the entrance to the district.
There was a bit of a kerfuffle as the pilots communicated in some sort of code-talk over their radios; Snake and Wolf seemed to perk up at the muffled chatter, but whatever they'd heard was either not important enough to relay, or indecipherable. After a few minutes of nothing happening, the vehicles started to drive out of the Housing District with theirs at the very end. The caravan of various-sized buses traveled along the winding road at a pace that could be best described as casual, and the curve of the road sometimes offered the passengers a lovely view of the Primary Arena off in the distance.
The sun may not be setting for a couple hours yet, but the Arena's exterior was still lit up like the borealis back home. Each side of the octagonal, colossal structure had white lights trained on it that turned it into quite the beacon even at this distance. On top of those highlighting beams, there were smaller spotlights waving to the skies in every color of the spectrum, repeating several times that she could see. Those lights moved in a series of different patterns, ranging from waving side to side to crisscrossing with opposing colors from fixtures on the opposite side of the structure. A mesmerizing sight from here, and Nana felt no shame in pressing her face against the glass next to Popo's to stare upon it. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Link doing the same.
Another turn took the building out of sight, but it would show up bigger and brighter a few more times until they were ground level with the massive structure. Their train of vehicles slowed and started towards a line of barricades. More importantly, it started towards the massive throng of people behind those barricades. The shouts and cheers were near-deafening as they were slowly driven alongside the barriers, and Nana found herself seeing spots due to the flashes from cameras going off in such close quarters; her vision spared only by the tinted, one-way window.
After a few minutes of riding alongside the masses, the line of vehicles disengaged by turning away to the right. They did a slow, lazy loop around to the north side of the building, and descended towards their destination via an access ramp. Upon disembarking, the gathered Smashers had time to mingle for a bit before the next part of tonight's itinerary came up. Nana, along with Popo, took up idle conversation with their usual group, and she sometimes caught snippets of similar chitchat from others near them. A triumphant shout from Dedede had drawn her attention, and she turned in time to see an annoyed Daisy counting out a stack of golden coins before depositing them into the smirking penguin's outstretched palm. With a shrug, she'd turned back and carried on her conversation before the amplified voice of a Mii cut through the din and gained everyone's attention.
"Alright everyone," Gerald shouted from his perch on top of a couple of stacked crates. "Showtime starts in a little less than an hour, and we don't have much time here; so Pat and I are going to escort you to your designated staging areas. Everybody that fought in the last tournament will come with me, and the rest of you go with Pat. Thank you!"
There was a low rumble of assent from the gathering, and the groups went their separate ways. Nana spotted the other group leaving into a red hallway while their route had a blue theme.
"Don't worry about memorizing the way around, folks," Pat was saying as he floated ahead of the group. "We only use the red and blue sides for the Opening Ceremonies, and you'll be back to the regular locker rooms next week. Of course, you won't be using the main entrance to get there now, but we'll go over the new route..."
By that point, Nana tuned him out and took stock of the people she was walking with. She knew about most of their ragtag group; she'd seen just about every one of these folks at rehearsal practice, meandering around the Housing District, at the pool, or Mallet Club meetings in Isabelle's case. However, that left two of them unaccounted for: Dark Samus and Ridley. The former was a complete enigma, silently staring straight ahead as she—they?—floated off to one side of the group.
And the latter…
Nana tried her best not to gawk at the hunched-over…winged…creature stalking along on the other side of the group; she really tried, but ultimately could not stop her eyes from shifting to Ridley. He did not speak, but she could see him bobbing his head from time to time as Pat continued talking. His head and eyes were constantly darting about, and she definitely made eye-contact on several occasions. Others had likely also locked eyes with the beast, if they were giving him that wide a berth. The only exception to this rule was the wild-eyed reptile, King K. Rool, who apparently had no issues walking within arm's reach of whatever species Ridley was. Walking directly ahead of her, she could see Popo performing the same routine of constantly glancing over and then quickly averting his gaze.
Unfortunately, she didn't have the opportunity to talk with her partner about her thoughts, as she suddenly found a paper of tonight's introduction schedule pushed into her hand. Before she could even glance over it, Pat was utilizing a small squadron of worker Miis to herd everyone into their designated locker rooms to change.
She'll just have to talk to Popo about this another time.
The noise of the fireworks faded, the house lights were killed, and an eerie silence accompanied a black screen. A murmur spread throughout those attending before a single spotlight pierced the veil to capture a giant, left-handed white glove.
Crazy Hand waved, showing off the black cuff around his wrist, which was adorned with golden company logo cufflinks. He then snapped his fingers, and a silver, cylindrical microphone was lowered from the ceiling. With a flourish, he grabbed the hanging mic by its stem.
"Welcome, one and all, to our latest season of… SUPER! SMAAAAAAAASH! BROTHERRRRRRRRS!"
The sound of the crowd was probably loud over the monitor Popo was watching, but it was drowned out by the deafening roar of the live capacity crowd that couldn't be more than ten or twenty feet from the comfortable room they were all in. He took a series of deep breaths in an attempt to calm his nerves, which yielded at least partially successful results. For the nerves he couldn't soothe on his own, Nana was there to cover the rest; the palm she'd rested over his chest helped to slow his hammering heart, for one. He took a swig from her offered bottle of water and swished it around in his mouth before swallowing to ease his suddenly dry throat.
"Thanks, Nana," he said while watching Crazy Hand talk about the features to expect from their tournament. Some interesting new match types; one involving a team of three or five battling it out one at a time, and an oddly…traditional(?) style where combatants fight until one cannot get up. The second one intrigued Popo the most, and he wondered just how something like that would play out, or even be received.
He'd turned away from the videos showing the Original Twelve demonstrating the new items to take a look around their room. The two proverbial polar bears in the room—Ridley and Dark Samus—were lurking in the back of the room, with the former casting a withering glare at those who approached, and the latter just silently staring at whoever drew near. The Inklings were watching another monitor with rapt attention, quietly chattering among themselves in their garbled language.
He'd seen the Inklings sauntering around from time to time. They seemed friendly enough, but he always felt…judged in their presence. They were unabashed in how they always gave him and Nana once-overs, but Popo never knew—or dared to ask—why. It was the same situation with Ness, Lucas, and the Links whenever they talked to the squid-kids.
He swept his gaze over the rest of the room's occupants, and saw everyone was just sort of doing their own thing. Snake, Chrom, and the Belmonts were chatting amicably; the last two were constantly looking at Wolf, Isabelle, and the Inklings. Young Link and Pichu were hanging out with Red and Leaf, who had their Squirtle and Ivysaur out respectively (the Charizard was off with the veterans). Eventually Wolf joined up with Snake and the others, and the Belmonts quite obviously settled their hands on their weapons; Wolf had responded in kind, though neither party made any move to escalate the situation any further.
Ken kept to himself mostly, shadowboxing while watching a monitor with keen interest. When someone approached him though, he seemed rather friendly and casual. Popo had a suspicion that he and Captain Falcon would get along.
Incineroar was an…interesting pokémon, to say the absolute least. Intense attitude towards the adults, but its personality would absolutely flip when it was around younger people. Popo smiled at the memory of when he and the gang first approached the big pokémon; a photograph of him and Nana being held up on Incineroar's shoulders would be a fond treasure, and a reminder of future fights with the fiery show boater.
K. Rool kept to himself, his posture and expression seemingly caught somewhere between saying 'go away' and 'I dare you to come near me'. Popo immediately did not like the guy.
Isabelle and Daisy had grabbed some refreshments and joined Popo and Nana on the couch they had commandeered to watch the event. Isabelle looked nervous, but somehow confident at the same time. Daisy just looked plain confident; Popo thought that nothing could shake the woman's resolve.
"So how do you kids feel?" Daisy inquired as she flopped down beside Nana. "Ready to get out there and bask in the glow of your adoring fans?"
Nana sighed, hugging Popo with exaggerated tightness. "I'm ready, but I don't think he is. Don't think I've ever seen him this nervous since he first conf—"
Further words were cut off by Popo's hand firmly covering her mouth, but he smiled in spite of the gesture. "I thought we were saving that story for Peach's interrogation. Can you imagine the hell she'll put us through if she's not the very first to hear it?"
Daisy cackled, one fist pounding on the couch's armrest. Before she could say anything, a suddenly loud shout from the crowd drew everyone's attention towards the monitors, as Crazy Hand once again appeared on the screen.
"I think they're going to introduce the veterans now," Isabelle hedged, leaning forward and rubbing her paws together.
"Now, I know what everyone's really here to see," the glove boomed, without its usual behind-the-scenes warbled inflection. "This is, of course, merely a formality—I've been informed that everyone is here. But without further ado, would you like to see this season's Smashers!?" The crowd roared again, and the camera switched to shots of various spectators in various states of rabid excitement. "Well then… HERE…WE…GOOOOO!"
Crazy hand let go of the mic and spun around to point at the red ramp and entrance.
The crowd went silent as the music began. It started with a drum heralding a heavy brass ensemble, building to a crescendo. When a woman's voice started singing, Mario, clad in a fancy white suit and tall hat, made his appearance with a small hop and a big wave to the cheering crowd. He strolled down the ramp at a casual pace, turning every so often to wave at the raving attendees. About halfway to his destination, he broke out into a sprint. When he'd reached a point about eight feet from the ring, he jumped to the air and landed in the middle of the ring with a spinning display of acrobatics. Immediately upon landing, he tore away the suit to reveal a lab coat and stethoscope over a shirt and tie. Tossing away the tall hat revealed the doctor's mirror. With a rapid spin, he'd discarded that outfit as well, finally revealing the trademark blue overalls, red shirt, and signature red cap to an appropriately grand ovation.
As the final pose was struck, Crazy Hand had grabbed the mic again and made an announcement in his sonorous voice.
"Introducing first…from Brooklyn, New York, weighing in at 98 units… He is the Number One Superstar of the Mushroom Kingdom…the Renaissance Man who just can't get a break: MARIO!"
The crowd continued to voice their adoration, while Mario leapt out of the ring and took a seat in a special area just behind the ringside barrier.
The music changed and Popo turned towards Isabelle. "You ready for your big debut tonight? I remember watching the other Villagers last season…" He trailed off, noting her nervous posture.
"Hm? Oh, as ready as I'll ever be, I guess! I'm afraid I have a lot to live up to though; they did really well when they hit their stride, but I've never fought before." She laughed meekly, seeming to shrink a bit.
"I think you'll do just fine," Nana piped up, leaning forward to turn a smile towards Isabelle. "Remember, you're here for a reason. And that reason is that Master Hand saw something special in you. If someone questions you, you need to assert yourself!"
That seemed to assuage the dog woman's nerves, and Popo turned his full attention back to the monitor. By now, Kirby was stepping into view, accompanied by a swell of triumphant music. He'd only taken a couple of steps towards the ramp before he produced his Warp Star and started to fly around the arena. He went high too; making sure even those up in the furthest seats got an up-close view of the puffball. Once he'd hit an open area at the upper portion of the arena, Kirby began to perform a series of aerial stunts which included everything from loops to skimming just barely over the heads of the crowd. All of these maneuvers built up to a corkscrew dive back towards the ring below. After coming to a smooth landing on the canvas, he dismounted the Warp Star and waved his stubby little paws to the chanting fans.
"From idyllic Popstar, weighing in at 79 units… He is the Heroic Pink Demon of Dreamland: KIRBY!"
Another eruption of cheers emanated from the crowd as Fox came out. Popo threw his head back at this, closing his eyes and feigning an obnoxious snore. Isabelle shushed him, which he took as a sign of her confidence returning. He still couldn't bring himself to really care for Fox, though. Pikachu's entrance was dynamic and energetic at least, and Luigi's paranormal-themed introduction was engaging.
Next up was Ness, and Nana and Popo both leaned forward to observe. The psychic's music hit, and he stepped onto the stage with his head held high and arms raised to the sky. He summoned up four PK Thunder bolts, one at a time, to spell out N-E-S-S before twisting the last one around to propel him forward. As he landed, he started running faster and faster towards the ring until he'd disappeared in a flash of light, only to suddenly appear in the middle of the ring with a similar flash. Still sprinting, he quickly pivoted so that his back bounced off the ring ropes, and he used the momentum to send him running in the direction he previously came from. He forced himself to a dead stop in the center of the ring, and dramatically pointed his bat towards the crowd. He repeated this pose three more times in the other cardinal directions, allowing spectators to take photos from every angle.
"From Onett, weighing in at 94 units… He is our resident PSI Powerhouse who loves to sling fire around: NESS!"
Popo and Nana both cheered at this, not caring if anyone was looking over (they weren't). They'd tried for a while to get Ness to talk about his entrance routine, but the boy had been really tight-lipped about it. Maybe he thought they would copy it, but Ness probably just wanted to keep his display a surprise. Regardless of Ness's reason, Popo was left feeling impressed.
The next several entrances were rather neat affairs, Daisy got a real kick out of the boos that Bowser's grandstanding garnered, and Popo would look over his shoulder to see Link scowling at Ganondorf's relatively simple entrance. Mewtwo's entrance was rather impressive, with how he'd teleported to stand on each ring-post in turn, allowing for snapshots from everyone in the arena. How strange that Mewtwo, of all beings, would have a sense of showmanship.
A couple Smashers later and a rhythmic song consisting of harsh beeps began to play. The moment Mr. Game & Watch slid into view ringing his bell in the air, Popo suspected that those noises were from the Smasher himself singing along to the admittedly engaging rhythm. Every few steps he took down that ramp, Game & Watch would rotate his body so that a different camera had a chance to capture his image. Upon reaching the ringside, he launched himself high into the air and began lobbing bombs in every direction he could, timing his landing so the ensuing explosions surrounded him while held up a flag with a number 1 on it.
"From Superflat World, weighing in at 74 units… He is the vintage, gavel-wielding Master of Two Dimensions. Be prepared to be judged by MISTER…GAAAAAAAAME AND WAAAAAAAAATCH!
"How do you even see him, anyway?" Daisy leaned forward and scrunched her face up in concentration. "He's so flat; I don't think you can see him coming…"
Popo leaned back into the comfortable couch, crossing his arms and legs as he thought about the best way to put it to words. Fortunately, Nana was able to cover for him.
"They highlight him when he's in matches, but I remember constantly leaning to the side to get a better way to gauge his attacks." Her lips twisted a bit. "He's really hard to read even when you can see him though."
"It's just something you get used to," Popo added with a firm nod. "Working on a team with him is a lot harder, because you can almost never tell if he's setting something up for you to follow through on, or sometimes he accidentally gets in the way."
It was a bit before anyone else he and Nana were invested in was slated to come out, so they'd settled into idle conversation. Pit and…Dark Pit came out side by side, the latter looking incredibly annoyed to simply be there. A few entrances later saw Diddy Kong concluding his comedic, yet high-flying introduction. According to the schedule, this meant another one of their friends should be coming out.
Music set to a quick, catchy cadence heralded the arrival of Lucas. He took slow, careful steps as he moved onto the stage with a shy wave to the roaring crowd. A bright, genuine smile crossed his features before he summoned up…a table? As he knelt upon the table, the piece of furniture immediately took off at a gallop down the ramp. Three-quarters of the way to the ring, Lucas sent a PK Thunder arcing out behind him to propel him high into the air, towards the lighting system scaffolding. The cameras all panned upwards to catch Lucas's flight and descent, and cleverly kept the table—which had leapt into the ring—out of the frame until Lucas landed in a standing position upon it. Folding his arms, he remained perfectly upright as the table ran around the inside of the ring for a few laps, before he smoothly dismounted to the outside to a thunderous roar of approval from the crowd.
"Hailing from Tazmily Village, weighing in at 94 units… The Tazmilian Devil who came completely out of Nowhere: LUCAS!"
Popo grinned at the display of balance, while Nana let out a series of sharp whistles.
"I have no words for this," was all Popo could manage to say after a bit.
"I do; that was so cool!" Nana exclaimed, pumping her fist out and nearly slugging Daisy with the motion.
The brief exchange was enough for them to miss out on Sonic's entrance, which didn't necessarily bother Popo all too much; it meant another Mallet Club member was next in the queue.
King Dedede's theme hit, and the penguin never looked more regal as he made his way to the ring. Lounging on a palanquin supported by four Waddle Dees, he rode in style. In his right hand, he held his massive hammer in a vertical position. In his left hand were a few golden coins he regarded with a smug expression. When the camera zoomed in on his face, he looked straight at it with a toothy smirk, flashing the coins before deftly pocketing them and waving to the crowd with the now freed appendage. Once the palanquin was brought abreast of the ring's apron, he stood up and used the top rope to vault into the ring. He ran back and forth a few times, smoothly pivoting with each turnaround by slamming his hammer into the ground. Coming to a stop in the middle of the ring, he held his hammer high to whoops and cheers before exiting towards the side-seating.
"Fighting for Popstar, topping the scales at 127 units… he is the Self-Proclaimed King of Clobbering: KING DEDEDEEEEEE!"
Daisy scoffed, flicking both hands in a shooing gesture towards the monitor. "The nerve of that guy, rubbing that bet in my face..."
"It looked like you gave him a lot of money; what was all that about anyway?" Nana asked.
"A stupid argument that got out of hand," Daisy grumbled in reply. "He was bragging about his Waddle Dees, I was doing the same for Toads… We'd turned it into a bet to see which would win in a fight. Long story short, the Waddle Dee won, and I later learned he did the same thing to Peach last season."
Popo laughed as he nodded. "I didn't think much of those little guys either until Nana and I kept getting them literally thrown in our faces."
"I don't think he's gonna live that down," Nana joined in his laughter as she spoke. "Hey, quiet a sec; that was R.O.B. just now, and I think the paper said Link was coming out after."
The rapid strumming of a stringed instrument, accompanied by quickly clacking castanets, kicked off the introduction of (Toon) Link, who leapt into view as a pan flute started playing. Taking a deep breath, he remained on the stage just outside of the entryway and pulled out his conductor's baton, the Wind Waker. A rhythmic series of swishes was performed and a gust of wind started up from behind him. He then ran forward, rolled on the ground, and took a tall leap into the air. At the apex of the jump, he brought out a large leaf, and glided towards the ring. Upon touchdown, he rolled forward again, positioning himself at center-stage to quickly spin with his sword out before striking a heroic pose facing into the wind. As he exited the ring to take his seat, many in the crowd stood up to shout "'HOOOOOOOOY!"
"Sailing in from Outset Island, with a cargo load of 91 units… he's the Hero of the Winds: TOOOOOON LIIIIINK!"
"It took him forever to get that approach right," Isabelle mumbled, hugging herself with a small shiver.
"Yeah, I heard he only left like, three-quarters of his rehearsals under his own power," Nana replied with a sympathetic grimace. "He probably shouldn't have tried to work through that one concussion…"
With a glare, Isabelle snapped her gaze from the monitor, which showed the Villagers circling over the ring on their strange rocket devices. "He was concussed!? He should know better than that. Of all the…"
Popo largely tuned out the woman's ranting, relying on Nana as a cue to nod along as he watched some of the other competitors come out. It's not that he didn't agree with Isabelle, but Link was incredibly stubborn about doing things his way.
A smile came over his lips as he watched Little Mac, clad in a hooded satin robe, make his way to the ring. The boxer was accompanied by Doc Louis and they were surrounded by a ring of unarmed security Miis. When Popo briefly met him, Mac turned out to be a really nice guy, and was surprisingly humble when he talked about his previous accolades. The Smash Bros. tournaments, Popo mused, probably humbled a lot of folks…
Popo hadn't realized he was zoning out until he felt Nana's elbow repeatedly digging into his side.
"Wake up Popo, another Club member's coming out!" Nana exclaimed, pointing to the monitor. A brief shake of the head and he brought his full focus to watch the action.
A slow, ominous beat was played on what sounded like large war drums before horns started to join in. As faster drumming replaced the previous rhythm, Bowser Jr. floated out in his clown car vehicle. He grinned at the camera, quirking a bushy orange eyebrow before he took his hammer in hand and pointed it dramatically towards the ring. While the crowd cheered at this gesture, the other Koopalings drove out and around him in similar cars with wheels attached. Larry, Morton, Wendy, Iggy, Roy, Lemmy, and finally Ludwig had zipped by an unmoving Bowser Jr. before he'd converted his own vehicle into a wheeled mode and took off after them. Before long, they were circling the arena, incessantly revving their little engines in time with one another. In the same order that they'd driven out, the Koopalings began to eject from their vehicles at specific intervals. Larry, Wendy, Iggy, and Lemmy all landed on separate posts at the corners of the ring, while Morton, Roy, and Ludwig landed in the center. Bowser Jr. ejected last, landing in the waiting hands of the three stocky boys in the center. The final touch was the perfectly-timed brandishing of their hammers (and scepter) to a raucous ovation.
"Representing the Koopa Kingdom, at a combined weight of 864 units… they're the Commanders of the Koopa Troop, those Machiavellian Machinators of Mayhem: BOWSER JUNIOR AND THE KOOPALIIIIINGS!"
"Holy crap," Popo said after a long pause and a series of stunned blinks.
Nana slumped in her seat, letting out a breath she'd been holding without realizing. Unfortunately, she didn't have time to offer her thoughts on the presentation, for Pat had suddenly opened the door and poked his head into the room.
"Alright people," He began with a smile blipping onto his face. "It's time to get you all into position for your debuts!"
Ness was quite amused as Bayonetta wrapped up her routine, using her long legs to easily step over the top rope before making her way down to the last available seat for the veterans. Apparently the crowd didn't forget her string of victories in last season's final tournament; nearly two-thirds of this assembly seemed hell-bent on booing the Umbra Witch out of the building. At least she took it well, stopping every so often to make gestures that seemed to say 'yes, more of that please'.
"Not even Ganondorf got a reaction like that, and he's actually a bad guy!" Ness said, raising his voice to be heard over the crowd.
Lucas looked up from the paper schedule in his hands, grinning broadly. "They're just saying what most of us here are thinking! She practically walked through that event, at least up until that last fight with Samus…though that one was still a fast match."
"I wonder who's going to be coming in later on," Toon Link interjected from where he sat behind Ness and Lucas. "Some of the newcomers we have now already sound scary enough!"
Ness nodded, before looking up to where Crazy Hand was floating and gesturing. When it was time for a presentation, that glove sure knew how to put on a show. He had just wrapped up his speech, galvanizing the crowd with a palpable anticipation as he pointed to the blue ramp and stage, which lit up in response.
"Bring on the newcomers!" Crazy Hand boomed into his mic. "Let's show the masses that, yes indeed, EVERYONE IS HERE!"
A hush fell over the crowd before tense riffs started belting out over the sound system. Dark Samus made her(?) appearance, and what best could be described as 'confused applause' spread throughout the arena while she floated down towards the ring. Languidly, she looked over the packed crowd, and wherever her gaze landed seemed to temporarily silence the clapping. She gracefully leapt into the ring and passively…floated there and looked around. After a long, painfully awkward minute, the Phazon-infused anomaly tilted her head and leapt back out of the ring to take her seat on the opposite side of the veteran's seats.
"Floating out from the Phazon Mines of Tallon IV, at 108 units… A living embodiment of the Phazon substance who, quite frankly, freaks even me out: DARK SAMUUUUUS!"
Ness didn't realize he was leaning forward until Crazy Hand concluded his announcement. He remembered seeing this one before… However, there was a significant difference between the simulations of an Assist Trophy versus…this. A glance to Samus herself told very little. The helmet of her power suit was the only thing in motion as she tracked the movement of her doppelganger.
"Well, that's gonna give me nightmares," Lucas deadpanned. "She's so creepy."
Ness began to inquire further, but Lucas cut him off with a wave and pointed towards the newcomer entrance again.
An upbeat, sporty, and somehow regal theme filled the arena. As this happened, a retinue of Toads with blue spots on their white caps marched down the sides of the ramp. There were ten pairs in all, and they pivoted to face one another in unison. These fungi folk (fun guys?) brandished scimitars—unlike the spears held by Peach's Toads earlier—which they crossed over the path. One by one, each pair raised their swords to point to the ceiling as Daisy drew near. Also unlike Peach's more modest way of entering the ring via the stairs, Daisy leapt up, grabbed the top rope, and flipped into the ring before striking up a peace sign to cheers and the occasional wolf-whistle. Upon hearing the latter, she placed her hands on hips and shimmied with a wink.
"Competing for Sarasaland, measuring out at 89 units… She's the sporty, chipper, royal pain-bringer: PRRRRRRINCESS DAISY!"
Alright, this got the crowd back on track. Ness let out a (non-wolf) whistle while Lucas was applauding.
Link nodded along to the music, one finger waving with the rhythm as he spoke up. "I heard a lot of people were demanding for her to be brought in."
"Yeah, that's what I heard too," Ness said, before turning to Lucas with a grin. "I also heard she can bail you out if Peach ever corners you. We don't want a repeat of last season, right?"
"…Shut up, Ness," Lucas grumbled, folding his arms over his chest. "Peach wasn't even the worst part of all that and you know it."
Still grinning, he shrugged and turned his attention back to the entrance and settled in to watch.
Soft, yet uplifting tones began to flow through the air, and a murmur of confusion began to spread throughout the crowd; this was quite a departure from the previous themes. A male chorus started to sing along with the instruments, and that was where Chrom timed his appearance. Setting off down the ramp at a leisurely pace, he addressed the spectators as if he were marching in a parade; all smiles, waves, and really high stepping. After a while, he came to a dead stop in front of the ring and folded his arms, sweeping his gaze towards the ceiling. In a sudden motion, he unsheathed his blade and took to the air. He performed two quick flips and came down fast, fluidly rolling forward before standing up with a confident pose before the cameras.
"From hard-to-pronounce Ylisse (Did I say that right?), weighing in at 98 units… He's a Prince, that descendant of the Hero King: CHROM!"
"BOOOO!" Dedede jeered from somewhere beside them, which prompted a laughing fit from all three boys.
Lucas was the first to recover, shaking his head slowly. "Yet another person for Dedede's group to look out for…"
"That's why I won't ever get involved with them," Link muttered.
"Hey, that's probably for the best, especially now that Nana and Popo are back," Ness stated with a nod. "I'm surprised they never asked you about it, now that I think about it…"
Link was spared from having to respond, as the next Smasher in the queue was coming out.
Now this music was much more fitting. Ken immediately ran out, pausing on the stage to do a quick display of punches and kicks, followed by a really cheesy grin and thumbs up. Taking in a deep breath, Ken booked it down the ramp and leapt onto the ring's apron. From there, he jumped onto the top rope and performed a leaping uppercut—wreathed in flames, no less—towards the scaffolding of lights overhead. At the apex of this maneuver, he simply grabbed hold of said scaffolding. As a camera zoomed in on his face, he flashed another cheesy grin and thumbs up combination, and yelled "I DID IT!"
"From…it just says 'United States', folks… with a weight of 103 units behind each of those strikes… The Crimson King of Martial Arts with the hands of fire: KEN MASTERRRRRRS!"
A wave of laughter spread throughout the arena, supplemented by applause. Lucas was holding a hand to his forehead, shaking with poorly-suppressed laughter.
Crazy Hand floated around the mic for a bit, waiting for the crowd to die down. "Give it up for our Epsilon Fighters, ladies and gentlemen! More information can be found for them on the terminals at your lodgings and other information kiosks throughout the resort! Now let's give a warm welcome to the next wave of newcomers!"
A heavy silence descended over the arena. If it wasn't for the fact that Crazy Hand just said that there were more newcomers coming out, people would be heading for the exits. Eventually, the orange-haired Inkling girl casually strolled out onto the ramp-stage. She had a big smile on her face as she waved to the crowd and produced what looked like a large paint-roller. She slammed it on the ground with a wet smack and started running forward, leaving behind a wide swath of paint in a hypnotically swirling combination of different colors. About three-quarters of the way down, she paused with a concerned look on her face. However, her smile quickly returned as she looked to the ceiling and snapped her fingers. Drums and guitar riffs began to play, and the Inkling went back to saturating the ramp and the entire ringside flooring. Upon completing a circuit around the ring, a commotion was heard at the top of the ramp as seven more Inklings—boys and girls alike—ran out and submerged themselves in the paint and swam forward in the form of large squids. They swam around the ring for a while as the first girl hopped into the ring and patiently stood slightly off-center. One by one, the other Inklings propelled themselves out of the muck and into the ring until they formed a line and waved to the cameras.
"Riding a party bus in from Inkopolis, at a combined weight of 752 units… A veritable rogue's gallery of graffiti guerillas: THE INKLINGS!"
"I had enough trouble trying to think of an entrance for just me, and somehow these people figured out how to wrangle eight freaking people into cooperating!?" Link exclaimed while he applauded.
"I'm not too surprised," Lucas said after he sat back down from his own burst of applause. "They're always listening to their music everywhere they go."
"Good point," Link nodded, folding his arms. "That computer thingie put out several quiet hours messages over the last month. I guess they've been blasting their music and keeping their neighbors up."
"Wonder if they've had to personally deal with their neighbors a lot; especially if you live next to…well, that." Ness pointed up to the stage, indicating the next Smasher coming out.
Two clawed hands reached out and grasped the scaffolding surrounding the entrance. With a mighty heave, the dragon-like creature known as Ridley pulled his hideous form out onto the stage to a sting of climactic notes. The song transitioned into a series of repetitive measures, and he took flight with a screeching roar. Once in the air, the beast proceeded to swoop as close to the screaming spectators as he could manage without actually touching them. After almost a minute of this aerial display, he folded his wings close and dove back towards the ring. Moments before impact, Ridley contorted his body so that he landed feet first, and he used the ropes to stop his forward momentum as he skidded to a halt. Throwing his arms back, the creature let out another screech and spat out several orange fireballs into the air, which dissipated after some distance.
"Exploding out of Zebes, and allowing us to weigh him in at 107 units… He calls himself a Cunning God of Death, but we'll see how that turns out: RIDLEYYYYYYY!"
Ness only paid some attention to this; most of his focus was on Samus again. Similar to Dark Samus's entrance, her helmet was tracking the movement of the emaciated-looking dragon, but now there was the added motion of her non-cannon hand slowly opening and closing.
A quick glance to his companions revealed a contrast in expressions; Lucas was watching the display with open awe and a hint of worry, but Link had a determined glare across his normally guileless face.
He didn't have time to question the seafarer about it, because suddenly…
The lights went out completely, leaving only the blue light of the newcomer's ramp and stage. After a few seconds, that went out too. For ten long seconds, the arena was in perfect pitch darkness until orange and blue flames erupted from the stage as drums and blood-pumping riffs filled the arena. The flames extinguished themselves in time to the music, revealing Simon and Richter. The crowd's applause was deafening as these two men strutted to the arena, effortlessly cracking their whips over the heads of the nearest audience members. Without missing a beat, they leapt into the air and wrapped their whips around a couple of lights and swung towards the ring. As they landed, they each struck a pose—Richter crouching low and Simon standing tall—to the delight of the fans.
"From…two points of history in Transylvania, at a combined weight of 214 units… The holy warriors that'll whip anyone with fangs into shape: RICHTER AND SIMON BELMONT!
"I'm looking forward to fighting those guys!" Link exclaimed, pointing repeatedly at the two men that were now heading for their seats.
"Yeah, you might have to get in line behind her." Lucas stated. Ness and Link followed his pointing finger to see it leveled at Bayonetta. The Umbra Witch had a smirk on her lips, an appraising look in her eyes, and a finger lightly tapping her chin. Ness shuddered at the implications, but said nothing as he braced himself for the next Smasher's entrance.
Shrill trumpets pierced the veil as King K. Rool stormed out of the entranceway and onto the stage, powerful arms folded across his golden chest/belly plate. With a flourishing sweep of his cape, he began to stomp in time to the music straight down the ramp. He then stalked around the ring, wild eyes darting about. When the song hit a relative lull, the enormous crocodile jumped upwards and landed on one of the corner posts in an impressive display of balance. Immediately, he pointed to Donkey Kong with a toothy grin, before dragging his thumb across his throat and pointing at the ground. Donkey Kong, in turn, stood up and roared defiantly. As several veteran Smashers worked on restraining the gorilla, K. Rool jumped into the ring and struck a series of mighty poses as if he were making up for a relatively simple entrance.
"From Crocodile Isle, at a hefty 133 units… The Kremling Commander with a Killer Instinct: KING…KAAAAAAAY ROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL"
"Security's gonna have a field day with those two," Ness grumbled. At least watching the other Smashers struggling to hold back the ape, while Diddy Kong attempted to calm him down, was entertainment enough.
"I saw him arguing with Pat once, demanding that he has an escort when going to rehearsals," Lucas recalled with a frown.
Cheery music began to blare out over the speakers, and Isabelle shyly poked her head out from the curtains covering the entrance. The few spectators that saw her immediately started shouting and whistling, which made her duck back out of sight with a blush. When K.K. Slider started to sing along to the music, she hopped out onto the stage to a surge of encouraging cheers. After a moment of soaking in the attention, the dog woman raised her little arms and started clapping in an easy rhythm that the crowd joined in on. The clapping appeared to summon several giant inflatable Gyroid Lloids—three on each side of the stage—which wiggled and waved in place in a strange dance. Isabelle took to the air then, riding what looked like a swing supported by balloons towards the ring. Upon landing, she twirled about on the canvas while waving a pair of pom-poms. The crowd, further incited by her movement, added rhythmic swaying to their claps and shouts.
"From the town of Animal Crossing, at a weight of 88 units… The Polite Punisher who won't hesitate to wash your mouth with soap: ISABELLE!"
"Welcome to the Super Smash Bros. car dealership…" Ness quipped, turning to his companions with a smirk. At their blank looks, he let out a dramatic sigh and threw his hands up. "Man, I keep forgetting my audience. Lucas, you're on joke duty from now on."
Lucas folded his arms across his chest and stuck out his tongue. "That'll get old way too fast; you're my only source of material!"
Ness sucked in a hissing breath through pursed lips. "Ooh, going straight for the throat. Alright, change of plans; Link's the funny one from here on out."
Link hummed in thought for a moment. "So this seagull walks into a general store, and asks the shopkeeper if they have any grapes—"
Ness couldn't hold back his groan, his hand cutting through the air in a clear signal to get Link to shut up. "Hey, is that the next Smasher? I think it is!"
Incineroar was in their element as they came out to some upbeat tunes, a championship belt slung over one shoulder. They remained just outside the entryway for a full thirty seconds, stopping to pose for photos at both ends of the perpendicular stage, before sauntering down the ramp itself. Every so often it would stop and ruffle a kid's hair, slap hands with people reaching over the security barriers, or outright halt its routine to pose for even more photos. Incineroar seemed to know a lot of different poses, too, for the pokémon took about three minutes to actually reach the bottom of the ramp due to stopping so often. Stomping up the ringside steps, the muscular pokémon scaled the turnbuckles to pose at each corner of the ring, holding up its belt in both hands. The crowd ate this up, chanting as flashbulbs created a strobe effect over each corner Incineroar posed at.
"And finally, from the Alola Region, weighing in at 116 units… The ring's raging flame, that's fueled by the passions of the people… Give it up for…INCINEROOOOAAAAR!"
The crowd stood up and applauded as Incineroar leapt into the air and dove out of the ring. As it moved to stand with the rest of the newcomers, Ness and the other Smashers stood up from where they sat. A lone Mii, operating a TV camera, stood in the ring and slowly panned over the competitors. A swell of music began to fill the arena, and the house lights slowly dimmed to signal an end to the broadcast.
However, the lights didn't stop dimming, and the arena rapidly fell under darkness again. People who had gotten up found themselves unable to leave, and scattered murmurs were heard from all around. Before too long, thankfully, a spotlight once again shone upon Crazy Hand. Ness couldn't help a smile as he'd all but felt the wave of confusion that spread out over the gathered masses.
"Hey! Don't you people remember what I said before!? I said that 'everyone is here', which means I'm not quite done, yet!" He paused to let this sink in, and scattered applause was heard. "Are you fine folks ready to see some more fighters!?"
A loud cheer broke out at this.
"Louder! I think some of them fell asleep waiting to come out after all this time!"
A powerful roar from the crowd was apparently the answer Crazy Hand was looking for.
"Excellent!" he boomed. "I think they're ready to face your adoring adulations after hearing that! So without further ado, let's get the last leg of this night underway!"
Rapid-fire piano notes just started to reach the ears of the spectators, and a decent sized section of the crowd was already going crazy. As horns joined in at the thirteen-second mark, the Ice Climbers leapt out in their signature blue and pink outfits to a wild cacophony of shouts and chants. They each stood at one end of the stage, waving their hands and channeling their Blizzard spells in perfect synchronization. They then quickly switched positions on-stage, moving backwards with a…familiar dance involving arm-swings and rhythmic kicking, and repeated the waving and channeling portion. They performed the odd dance move again, and met at the top of the ramp. At the twenty-six second mark, electric guitars took over the song and they took off at a dead sprint down the ramp, crossing over each other's paths in a double-helix pattern. Just as they were about to hit the ring, Popo dove under the bottom rope and slid in as Nana gracefully cleared the top rope with a strong leap. Popo wasted no time in jumping up to meet Nana in the air, and together they became a whirling dervish of hammers. Still spinning, they landed and began to wildly move around the ring by bouncing off of each set of ropes several times. They maintained their rotation and switched to casting their blizzard spell, turning them into a snowy vortex of freezing winds. Forty-seven seconds into the song, and the notes took on a calming tone as the Climbers ceased spinning to point their hammers out towards the raving throng of spectators.
"From Icicle Mountain's Murasat Village, at a combined weight of 184 units… They're the beau and belle of bludgeoning, forming a bone-chilling duo… Popo and Nana: the ICE CLIMBERRRRRS!"
"HELL YEAH," Ness roared and pumped his fists into the air, and all three boys made their way to the front of the veterans' area to greet the Ice Climbers as they jumped out of the ring. The duo only had enough time to exchange some quick high-tens with the trio before they left to sit in the newcomers' section, but there would be plenty of time to socialize after all this was over with.
There was something annoyingly familiar about that little dance Popo and Nana were doing throughout their routine, but he would have to ask them about it later on.
The speakers started blasting out some type of battle theme as a scaled-up Poké Ball bounced out onto the stage. It came to a halt just before the ramp began to slope down, and wiggled in an oddly…aggressive manner. After a few moments, those seated closest to the stage shouted in alarm when the ball was suddenly struck by a bolt of lightning. Afterwards, it began to roll down the ramp towards the ring and it was struck two more times on the way down. That third hit apparently did the trick; the Poké Ball disintegrated into a thick, heavy cloud of smoke. From under the cover of that smoke, Pichu rocketed towards the ring with his signature Skull Bash, and performed a series of Agility maneuvers to travel from ring post to ring post, waving its stubby little arms at the crowd from each corner it perched upon.
"Striking from the skies of Johto, weighing at a whopping 62 units… The amped-up, shockingly adorable: PICHUUUUU!"
"I never thought I'd see that little guy again!" Ness shouted, clapping the loudest out of the other two boys.
"I remember hearing a rumor once, that was saying Pikachu in the third tournament was evolved from the Pichu you knew," Lucas mused, turning his head to the side in order to look between the two electric rodents.
Ness waved off the notion. "We're pretty sure it's been the same one this whole time. Pichu's no slouch, but that Pikachu is supposed to be a special one."
Link nearly had to shout to be heard over the crowd. "If we can have three different Big Links, why would a different Pikachu be so odd?"
Ness was trying to come up with a rebuttal; his mouth opened and closed several times before he gave up with a shrug. Link had a solid argument, and it was worth looking into when things got slow.
Speaking of Link…
A flute of sorts kicked off the next song, before other instruments joined in for a slow buildup. Somewhere during the percussive bridge leading into the main part of the theme, (Young) Link had stepped out to face the rejoicing mass of attendees. Suddenly, he did an about-face to turn his back towards the ring, pulled out a bomb, and started walking backwards. He then dropped the incendiary, rolled forward, and raised his shield just in time to absorb most of the detonation. The effect of the bomb propelled him down the rest of the ramp in the form of a really strange backwards slide. Just before he slammed into the ring, he performed a smooth back-flip and used a spinning slash to gain enough clearance to go over the ropes. The momentum generated from the sliding was more than enough to carry him to the middle of ring where he casually waved in response to a strong ovation.
"Emerging from Kokiri Forest, weighed down by an inventory of 88 units… The Temporal Terminator for the people of Termina, and The Hero of Time: YOUNG LIIIIIIINK!"
Link stood up on his chair to applaud, stopping every so often to stick his fingers into his mouth and let out a piercing whistle. In a repeat of their moment with the Ice Climbers, the three boys made their way to the barricade to once again slap hands with the young Hero of Time.
As they took their seats again, Ness turned to the cat-eyed sailor. "What had you so excited back there?"
Link was practically bouncing in his seat. "Kindred spirit; he's also got a way to move backwards really fast!"
Ness stared for a few seconds, before the thought finally occurred. "Oh, right…that swimming trick you bring out from time to time, right?"
Link simply nodded, calming down as the lights dimmed.
Slow, but tense music flowed from the sound system in the form of low notes and an almost calm, synthesized rhythm as spotlights slowly panned throughout the seated spectators. Some of the lights were traversing in lazy horizontal patterns, and others were shifting about in vertical movements. A minute or so later, two of the lights briefly intersected over the alcove of an emergency exit on one of the upper levels of the arena. The lights moved on for all of a second before they snapped back over to the alcove, highlighting a cloaked figure raising a lighter to the cigarette protruding from their hood. A shrill sting of jammed together notes interrupted the previous song as cameras zoomed in on the man, and the music immediately changed to a fast, escalated song as the he took off running. Security Miis, also lit up by spotlights, suddenly appeared in hot pursuit. The mysterious man found the path ahead cut off by more security, forcing him to sprint down a nearby aisle of stairs leading down towards the safety rail. He leapt the rail without any hesitation and produced a familiar-looking device that lifted him into the air with a whirring buzz. Once he was over the ring, he let go of the machine and descended towards the canvas, landing hard in a three-point stance. Accompanying the impact was a surge of electricity, which burned away the cloak and revealed Solid Snake to a thunderous roar from the crowd.
"From a highly-classified location—it really says 'redacted', folks—weighing in at 106 units… The Legendary Soldier…a menacing, merciless mercenary: SOLID SNAAAAAAKE!"
"I only saw him practicing the second half…that's so cool," Ness said mostly to himself, though he could see Lucas nodding in agreement.
A steady string of familiar electric guitar notes had the crowd already cheering, and once the song transitioned into a strings and horn combination, they were chanting 'TRAINER, TRAINER, TRAINER' as Red walked down the ramp with a determined gait and his Squirtle leading the way. He made it about a quarter of the way when another wave of cheers (and no small amount of whistles) emanated from the crowd. Leaf was soon standing beside him, her Ivysaur out in front, and together they walked down to the ring. Instead of climbing into the ring—a wise move, given Leaf's attire (Not that Ness would be looking)—they instructed their pokémon to leap into the ring, as they were the true competitors here. Charizard, who had previously come out solo, immediately stood up from where it was sitting and flew into the ring to reunite (on-camera) with its old companions.
"Representing Kanto, at a combined weight of 287 units… Red and Leaf came here to be the very best, and they'll do it by commanding Squirtle, Ivysaur, and Charizard: THE POKEMON TRAINERS!
Lucas had the loudest reaction out of the three; Ness smiled as the blond ceased his cheering and ran up to the barricade to converse with Red. It was a short exchange—merely a nod and maybe a couple of words—before Lucas came jogging back to his chair with a big grin.
Any attempt at conversation between the three boys was pointless by now. Their words were drowned out by the roar of the crowd, who was chanting Wolf's name before his music had a chance to start. A good sign, though, as it showed the people were rallying behind these surprise reveals as well as showing an appreciation for those who were showing up again.
Brassy notes opened up with a quick crescendo, and the man himself came swaggering out. He started to walk down the ramp, but diverted from his routine to look over the crowd with a faint smile on his face. He took this in for about ten seconds before he chuckled and shook his head, schooling his features back into his usual hardened expression and continuing his path to the ring. There weren't many frills to his entrance; it was a simple matter of rolling into the ring, standing in the middle, and letting out a long howl that many in the crowd echoed back.
"And last, but definitely not least… cruising in from the Lylat System, weighing in at 92 units… The ferocious, furred fighter pilot from the stars: WOLF!"
Wolf took his seat to a standing ovation and a few more scattered howls from random spectators. Ness and the other veterans took to applauding out of respect for the new Smashers, and eventually the house lights dimmed.
Once again, Crazy Hand and his old-timey microphone were lit up by a spotlight.
"Let's hear another round of applause for this season's Smashers, everyone!"
Another roar of approval from the crowd was heard, as the large monitors and jumbo-tron suddenly activated to show an outside view of the Primary Arena. The camera—likely mounted to a vehicle—zoomed in on the blank banners hanging on the sides of the building before it started moving. One by one, the banners changed, each one revealing the portrait of an individual competitor. From Mario to Incineroar, the banners were filled in. A few of them consisted of groups of two or more Smashers, but the rest were solo pictures. The camera eventually stopped circling the building, and zoomed out to show a row of banners that remained blank.
Crazy Hand spoke up, once all of the blank banners were on the screen. "Those extra banners are exactly what you think they're for, ladies and gentlemen; we are continuing the tradition from last season!" He paused for another swell of applause. "That's right; we will have more Smashers in our roster, once our Department for Locating Competitors can figure out who is worthy!"
He chopped his hand horizontally, a gesture meant to cut off the next round of applause.
"Enough about all that, though," the glove said, in an almost terse tone. "Enough with the technical details—enough about the hype of things yet to come! You fine people didn't pay good money to attend Opening Ceremonies just to listen to words, did you?"
The crowd responded with a resounding 'NO', drawing out a low chuckle from the glove.
"I didn't think so!" Crazy Hand loudly snapped his fingers, and a couple of spotlights shone down on the Newcomers' section. "You would much rather see some action tonight, right?"
Ness was impressed; the teeming mass of people in attendance had to have been here for hours by now. They had slogged through an undoubtedly long wait in line, and sat through a lengthy presentation and parade. By all accounts, they should be tired and grouchy. Somehow, they still managed to rally the energy needed to jump up and scream their approval as Crazy Hand once again took hold of his microphone.
"ALRIGHT THEN," he shouted with a manic cackle. "LET'S HAVE SOME MATCHES!"
Author's Notes: (02/02/2020) Congratulations, you made it through! Don't forget to collect your complimentary Smash Resort Fun Bucks* as a reward for enduring this (relative) beast of a chapter! I hope future chapters don't run this long or worse, but knowing my track record of an ever-increasing word-count, I can't make any promises. At least I was talked down from my original plan to put both this and the next chapter (whenever I start it) into one single update.
As ever, thanks are in order for the views and reviews you lovely people have been throwing my way. If you feel the need to reach me in a more live setting, you can yell at me in the Super Smash Prose server on Discord (gDK48ua)!
*Smash Resort Fun Bucks are not accepted anywhere.
