Installing the Pecking Order

Social stratification (n): a system by which a society of people are ranked in a hierarchal arrangement. "In the United States, it is perfectly clear that some groups have greater status, power, and wealth than other groups."

-Kimberly Moffitt, "Social Stratification: Definition, Theories and Examples" n.d.; retrieved from

So this was the tier list. Printed on ordinary, eight-by-eleven inch white paper from ordinary printing ink made from a combination of cyan, yellow and pink colors. Listed from top to bottom were the twelve fighters, each denoted by a cartoonish, 2-D portrait. Beside each portrait was a number between 1 and 12.

A finger, gloved in the color of the paper, slowly trailed down the tier list. Mario's gloved finger, searching for his own picture, skimming past the dark numbers on the crisp sheet of paper. And as the numbers counted upward with the precision of a machine, Mario's brow began to furrow, deepening as the numbers grew.

1…

2…

3…

4…

5…

6…

There!

In the number 7 spot, just below the middle, there he was. Mario tapped his picture contemplatively, his lips pursing slightly as he thought about being ranked one slot below a certain pink Balloon Pokémon, two slots below Yoshi and glaringly outranked by a vulpine, a racecar driver, a fluffy pink marshmallow and a yellow mouse who shot electricity. After bestowing defeat after defeat upon a princess-stealing turtle, Mario was stunned to be ranked so low. His status as an all-around had earned him not only a Thumbs-Up from Master Hand but also unofficial second-in-command duties and the privilege of being a spokesperson for the Smashers. He half-expected to be among the top three or four, at the very least. So far, he'd performed amazingly and showed his opponents as well as the audience why he made the Toads of his new home feel safe at night. What was he doing in the middle tier?

Disheartened, Mario leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. After all he'd done to keep his Princess and her subjects safe, all Master Hand had to offer him was the number seven slot? Who did he think he was? What made an electric mouse and a puffball better than him? Yes, he lost some matches as well as won some, but of all the tier positions, he just had to be stuck in the middle? He had a good mind to march right up to that disembodied glove and…

He immediately shoved those angry, self-pitying thoughts from his mind. It wasn't Master Hand who composed this tier list, anyway. All heroes had weaknesses as well as strengths, and just because he wasn't as ranked as high as he hoped didn't mean that he was no longer capable of protecting the Mushroom Kingdom. Besides, being in the middle was not that bad. And he couldn't count out the fact that seven was a lucky number. While he questioned his placement on the tier list, he felt that he could make do with it.

Having accepted his lower-than-desired ranking, Mario smiled. "Okeydokey," he said to himself. Maybe he'd order a plate of spaghetti and meatballs at the cafeteria. He'd feel substantially better after that.

This state of nirvana was short-lived due to thoughts of another fighter he held near and dear to his heart. He allowed his finger to resume its skimming journey, and as the numbers continued to increase and he passed the likes of Samus and DK, the red-capped hero who smashed bricks and blocks with his fist grew acutely sick to his stomach.

8.

9.

10.

11.

Oh, Dio, no.

His finger was now at the last slot on the tier list, twelfth place. And there, without any speck of doubt, was the portrait of the most valuable, reliable and loving sidekick a hero could ever have—his little brother.

This had to be some sort of mistake. Luigi couldn't be that awful—he just couldn't! He was taller than Mario and also jumped higher. Mario had attended every last one of his matches as a spectator. Every. Last. One. And in all of them, he had been left breathless by Luigi's speed, power, versatility and innovation. In his moveset had come an assortment of combo tools, and his favorite combo finisher was a handy, quaint little move known as the Super Jump Punch. Mario had this move, as well, but Luigi's variation came equipped with this secret spot he had to work to get his foes into. If he was successful, then—PIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNGGGGGGGGG! One fiery wowza of an uppercut, coming up!

But like Mario, Luigi had flaws. One of them being his notoriously poor traction, which could both hurt and help him. The prime flaw was that in Smash, Luigi was considered Mario's inferior clone. Heck, that was all he'd been considered these days. He shared Mario's attacks, or most of them, but their damage outputs were noticeably lower. His dash attack, while unique, was weaker, being a wild flurry of punches. Luigi was a floaty fighter with overall poor mobility and approach issues, and his matchups were considered among the worst in the tournament thus far. Insult to injury? Luigi had happily filled out the application to enter the tournament, hoping to escape the looming shadow of his elder brother. Once he had come out of hiding, so to speak, he was going to set this tournament ablaze (figuratively speaking, of course) with what he could do! And how did these suits treat him? They decided that he was nothing, stuck him dead last and cast him back into obscurity. Life could be cruel sometimes.

"Mamma-mia," sighed Mario, hand over his forehead, as he turned away from the list. There were no options. He had to tell him, had to cushion the blow somehow. He had to help him process this setback. But he didn't want to be the one blasting Luigi's aspirations to bits. Luigi had his moments of uncertainty while filling out the application and while getting situated that first day. This piece of news would be detrimental to his self-esteem.

In the back of his mind, Mario knew that Luigi would sense that he was hiding something. All siblings would. And when he saw that list and figured out that his big bro knew beforehand, there would be trouble. Luigi would probably not speak to him for a long time, perhaps never again. It was akin to choosing between risking his life trekking through eight worlds and leaving the Princess in her enemy's greedy claws. Both sounded awful, yet one was better than the other.

Perhaps there was a way to work around this…


With leaden footsteps, Mario headed over to Luigi's room, located next to his, to break the morale-diminishing news.

Now, these two rooms were connected by a side door located inside each room, allowing one brother to visit the other at leisure. Other rooms had this accommodation, but these two utilized it more than the rest of the roster combined. So much, in fact, that they left their side door partially open most of the time.

Mario took a deep breath and knocked on Luigi's door. "Luigi!" he called.

"Come in," replied the voice of his baby bro.

Mario entered the room and quickly found his sibling, rocking out to some grunge tunes on his stereo.

As far as job choices, Luigi loved rolling up his sleeves and doing hands-on work. While Mario labored on construction sites, Luigi worked as a small-time mechanic. In 1983, once the tension with DK deflated, Luigi suggested that they enter the plumbing business together. For two years they worked in the sewage pipes, one of which led them to that mushroomy fantasy world. In 1986, they set up a business of their own, Mario Bros. Plumbing, graduating to less stinky jobs such as toilets and sinks. This business flourished while they commuted regularly between the Mushroom Kingdom and Brooklyn via Warp Pipes. Both bros were equally credited when it came to plumbing jobs, and their salaries were nearly the same. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case when it came to their more heroic pursuits.

Although he was concealed in Mario's shadow most of the time, Luigi had a small degree of popularity among the Toads and New Yorkers back home. As previously stated, Luigi was taller than Mario and a higher jumper. His hair was also styled similarly, wavy, with a few short bangs at the back, but its brown color was a shade darker than Mario's. Bold blue eyes enhanced any emotion playing across his face. Three years earlier, he was mysteriously excluded from an adventure involving going through portraits in the Princess's castle and collecting various Stars. However, he actively participated in a kart racing tournament shortly thereafter, where he performed to the best of his ability, taking the shebang by storm. Though he didn't really know it yet, Luigi had many loyal and adoring fans eagerly awaiting his appearance.

Presently, Luigi turned down his music and smiled at his big bro. "Hey, Mario!"

The two plumbers shared a loving embrace.

"Isn't this place amazing?" gushed Luigi. "There are multiple lounges, an ice cream parlor, spacious Training Areas—even an arcade and a movie theater! Master Hand's spoiling us like kids!"

"Tell me about it," smiled Mario. "How's your day been?"

"Aside from a few bruises, I can't complain," winked Luigi. "Oh, and thanks for sitting up in the front row where I can see you. How's your day in Smash going so far?"

"Smashing," shrugged Mario. "Say, you want to go to the cafeteria and get some spaghetti? It's on me."

Luigi scrutinized Mario. "You're hiding something."

Mario sighed deeply; he knew his brother would see through him. "Yep."

"What's going on, Bro? I mean, what's really going on?"

Mario prayed to his Star Sprites for strength as he steered Luigi toward the bed. "You might want to sit down for this," he warned, "and you're going to need a stiff drink, too."

"Just tell me."

"L, Master Hand put the tier list up a few minutes ago," Mario began.

"Yeah, he did say something about a tier list," mused Luigi. "You saw it?"

"Yes. I was curious as to where I was, and I wanted to sneak a peek before word got out, so after MH left, I went over there and looked."

"And?"

"I was in the B-tier, seventh place."

Luigi shrugged. "That's not too bad. I'm proud of you. Who was first?"

"Pikachu," responded Mario, "and Kirby came in second."

There was a beat between them.

"What else are you not telling me?" asked Luigi.

Mario's heart thudded in his chest. "Well—I saw your ranking, too," he confessed. "It didn't look good."

"So, you're saying—what are you saying?" demanded Luigi. "Where did they place me on the list?"

"Lu—I'm sorry to say that you're ranked pretty low," sighed Mario. "Truly, I regret having to tell you this. I know that you hoped to break out on your own in this tournament. But don't get discouraged. So far, you've shown us all some impressive stuff."

"Who was I to expect more?" Luigi asked after a tense silence. "Nobody knows me, and if they do, they know me as 'the Green Mario'. Of course, those guys in the suits don't think I'll last a year in this place."

"I'm so sorry, Lil' Bro," Mario reiterated. "I just thought you should know before it hits you in the face."

There was barely any motion in Luigi's eyes now. He was probably trying to process what Mario had told him. "I could use that stiff drink right now," he said finally. "Would you care to join me?"


The existence of the tier list wasn't made public until shortly after noon. It was enough time for Luigi to steel himself for the reality of his placement—or so he thought.

"Left hand—green!"

In the meantime, Luigi was willing to cast those thoughts away in favor of a nice game of Twister with the other members of the Formidable Four. There they were, tangled up on the white mat with the red, blue, yellow and green dots on it, giggling and shrieking and struggling to maintain equilibrium as Fox called out direction determined by spinning a wheel.

We've already met Luigi, the tour-de-force of a younger brother and a pretty darn good kart racer, to say the least. He favored green as his color, the color of the hat bouncing around on his head as he twisted himself up with three other bodies. This hat had the letter "L" stamped right in the center, and let me tell you, this "L" didn't stand for "loser". He always looked forward to a sporting event or a kart race back home, for prior to this year, they were the primary outlets for his stress and aggression over Mario getting all of the accolades for the adventures they took on together, leaving him with hardly anything. Yet in spite of the fame inequality between them and the dynamics it fostered, Luigi loved his brother truly, madly and deeply, and he'd do anything to defend him.

The pink, Fairy-type Balloon Pokémon occupying the middle spot of the tier list was Jigglypuff. This little cutie had the ability to put her foes to sleep using her gentle, irresistible melodies. Whilst in this slumber, said foes could be smashed out of the arena or drawn on using a black, felt-tipped marker. When the latter happened, hilarity erupted. Besides singing, taking a nap was another secret weapon for Jiggs. If she fell asleep right next to an opponent, she'd launch them sky high. Jiggs would be highly recommended for people who were stressed out or had sleeping problems.

The masked, helmeted man with the amazing abs was Douglas Jay Falcon. All that was known about him was that he raced for the F-Zero Grand Prix and was also a bounty hunter. In Smash, Captain Falcon constantly exhorted the other fighters to "Show me ya moves!" He couldn't take his eyes off of Samus and spent most of his time flirting with her. Publicly, she denied a crush on him, but secretly, she flirted right back. Without question, Falcon's ticket to victory was his…"FALCOOOOOOOOOOON PAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWNCH!" Wow—it looked like a falcon, too!

The thirteen-year-old with the striped shirt and baseball cap was Ness, the boy from Onett. Ness was a whiz at doing yo-yo tricks and was quite eager to show them off to his opponents, with very painful results. Also, Ness was armed and ready with his baseball bat, either to hit a home run in a leisurely baseball game or to batter up on the battlefield. When a meteor crashed into his backyard, Ness was catapulted into an adventure alongside his friends, Paula, Jeff and Poo, to stop the evil Gigyas from taking over the world. Along the way, they learned a powerful technique known as PSI. This PSI fueled Ness's attacks in Smash, and three key moves made it in as his specials: PK Fire, PK Thunder (taught to him by Paula) and PSI Magnet.

These four secret fighters wasted no time establishing common ground and forming a mini-"fraternity", so to speak. They spent most of their time together, eating together, lounging together and even hosting sleepovers together. Sure, they hung around with the Great Eight, too, but their logic was that all hidden characters should stick together.

In a few short hours, though, all of that would change.

Fox continued to spin the wheel and call out commands to put this hand or foot on that color. These directives were growing increasingly impossible as the limbs of one became entwined with the limbs of another, hence the name of the game. The Formidable Four squealed with delight as they tried to remember which limb was where and move it as instructed, feeling the limbs below them shifting and threatening to knock them off balance. They laughed, not giving a care for the moment, as someone's rump got in someone else's face and hands or stubs grabbed an ankle, as they looked out from between their legs and saw their new friends upside down. The ensnaring game eventually devolved into a twisted mess on the mat, squirming and roughhousing and shrieking insanely.

"Hey, you guys?"

They looked up to see Samus standing in the doorway.

"Hiya, Sam," greeted Douglas. "What brings you here?"

"If you're finished playing around on the floor, Master Hand put the tier list up," announced Samus.

"Oh, boy!" cried Fox, dropping the spinner and bounding out of the room.

One by one, the Formidable Four picked themselves up, pulled their shoes back on (for those who had any) and filed out after the space commander.

Remembering Mario's words, Luigi tried not to elevate his expectations too much. He tried to imagine how low he'd be ranked. He tried to be ready.

They spilled into the crowd of the other eight Smashers, fighting their way to the front for a better look at the piece of paper tacked onto the bulletin board beside the day's matches. Already, there were whoops of joy, utterances of dismay, shouts of anger, cries of triumph and even some oaths as the fighters glimpsed their positions. Luigi ignored them as he finally reached the tier list. And as soon as he found his picture, he wished he hadn't.

Mario wasn't joking. Luigi, in fact, was ranked low on the tier list. Pretty low. Extremely low. Pitifully low.

The lowest of the low.

He closed his eyes, and then opened them again. Nothing had changed. His position on that tier list hadn't changed an inch. He was still standing there, staring at where they'd put him. Yells of disbelief, celebration, fulmination and condemnation swirled surreally around him. His face had gone as white as a Boo. For about two seconds, his heart stopped beating. This wasn't a sick joke. This wasn't a nightmare. This was real. This was how he was going to be viewed for the rest of the tournament.

His power of speech returned, and with it, his own disbelieved cry:

"Are you freaking kidding me?! Last place?!"

Mario bolted forward at the sound of his brother's exclamation. Everything else was gone from his mind except for the fact that his younger sibling needed him right now.

"Excuse me! Sorry! Coming through!"

Meanwhile, Luigi's mind was going everywhere. He thought he was doing well, well enough to be placed higher than last! Were they doing this on purpose? Was it their way of keeping him down, where they wanted him to be? Every time he struggled up, someone was waiting to push him back down! It wasn't fair! None of it was!

The crushing discovery had caused him to go limp. He had no energy to move; he was on the verge of crumpling to the ground. His mouth opened and closed rapidly like a fish swimming in the sea. It was as if he was trying to say something, anything—anything to make this go away and just be some delusional fantasy. And then a sound came out from between his lips—a broken, keening sound, like a child trying to comprehend why the other kids were laughing at him just because he was different.

"Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Mio Dio—this isn't happening. No way is this happening," he murmured over and over.

Mario reached the front in time to see Luigi, broken and numb, mumbling listless words, his expression aghast as he stared at the list, no longer seeing it except the fact that they put him last. As far as the red-capped hero was concerned, his efforts to ease the devastation had failed. He felt guilty for not telling him directly, but at least he'd been honest, right? It wasn't like he told a bald-faced lie.

Silently, Mario took his place by Luigi's side. A weight hung; he couldn't make eye contact. But he felt Luigi's eyes boring into him, asking the unspoken questions, demanding an explanation. It didn't take long for the intensity to get to Mario, making him turn and meet his younger bro's gaze.

"I—I wanted to tell you," Mario stated remorsefully. As if that would make it any better. What kind of excuse was that? He kept that important fact from him!

"I know," replied Luigi, his eyes never wavering. He had to give Mario credit for trying to lessen the impact. Unfortunately, the blow was still mighty. He anticipated being low after the talk with Mario, but not dead last. Something told him that Mario had hidden a vital piece from him after the revelation, but for both of their sakes, he hadn't pressed the matter. He should've, though. Now, Luigi would always remember that Mario knew, all this time. While he was in his room jamming to Foo Fighters, Matchbox 20, No Doubt and other bands having their heyday in the 90s; while he was playing Twister with Ness, Falcon and Jiggs, Mario knew. He knew that he was now considered the worst fighter on the roster, and instead of coming right out and saying it, he lied by omission.

Mario bowed his head. He knew Luigi had put two-and-two together. Soothing the pain the only way he could, he raised his head, opened his arms and encircled them round the green-clad hero, drawing him against his body and transferring his warmth and comfort to him.

To his relief, Luigi accepted the embrace, relaxing as his arms moved, in turn, to round his brother's frame. He interlaced his fingers behind Mario's back to keep the hold, his chin resting atop the crown of the elder brother's head. One hand began to thread through Mario's locks, the hug deepening. The reality wasn't so painful anymore. Luigi understood that Mario would be there to help him through this. He didn't think any less of him because of that list.

Still, he technically lied to him, so the next time they were matched together, it wasn't going to be pretty.

"Yoshi?"

The plumbers shifted in their brotherly embrace to see their green dino pet with a concerned look on his face.

"Hi, Yoshi," they said as one.

Yoshi padded over to his "mama", eyes still filled with worry. He'd been placed in the A tier along with Douglas and Fox, with a rank of 5th. Fox was 4th, and Douglas was 3rd. At first, Yoshi was jubilant, as he had every right to be. He, Fox and Falcon high-fived each other and wound up in a hugfest with S tier fighters, Pikachu (1st) and Kirby (2nd). The euphoria dissipated enough for Yoshi to glance again at the tier list, curious as to the positions of his two friends. Luigi's last-place rank immediately jumped at him, and suddenly, the fact that the green dino was ranked fairly high no longer mattered. He just hated the heartbroken look on his "mama's" face. All he wanted was for him to smile and laugh again, as he'd done since the tournament started.

Luigi turned to face Yoshi when the dino nuzzled his shoulder lovingly.

"Yoshi?" the dino asked tentatively.

Ending his hug with Mario, Luigi petted Yoshi reassuringly. "It's okay," he said. "I'm not mad at you."

He glanced at Mario. "Or at you," he went on. Mario wasn't so sure.

"Truth is, I don't know who I'm mad at," summed up Luigi. "Master Hand, Sakurai, the gamers who assembled this, or God—I just don't know."

"Yoshi?"

Luigi smiled sadly at Yoshi. "Hey, when life deals me tomatoes, I make spaghetti sauce. Speaking of which…" He cast a pointed glance toward Mario. "…I'll take a rain check on that spaghetti."

Mario stroked his brother's cheeks, and then rubbed his shoulders. "Listen to me," he said. "I don't care what that paper says, okay? It can say whatever it wants, but in my eyes, you'll always be a strong fighter. Just think about your help in rescuing the Princess, yes?"

"I barely get any acknowledgement, but you're right," said Luigi.

"You're amazing, Luigi," said Mario. "You're smart. You're dependable. You're handsome. You're strong. You're more powerful and courageous than you realize. I pray that one day, you'll discover that hidden spirit."

Luigi blushed. "Thanks, Bro."

They shared one final hug. Then, Luigi kissed Mario's cheek and threaded his way through the crowd to locate the other "C" tiers.

Samus glowered at Douglas as he held her hands in his.

"I mean, we can still be together, right?" he asked.

"Only if you agree not to rub it in," she admonished.

DK stomped away from the tier list, pouting over being ranked 9th and looking for bananas to drown his sorrows.

Ness received an encouraging pep talk from a few Mr. Saturns.

Link angrily slashed at the air with the Master Sword, yelling about how he was ranked eleventh in spite of the numerous times he'd defeated a certain dark king and restored peace to Hyrule.

"Eleventh!" he screamed like a maniac. "Eleventh!"

A Polygon handed him a glass on Lon-Lon Milk, which he drained in a few gulps.

"Thanks," he said. "I needed that."

As Fox and Falcon did a victory dance, hooting and laughing boisterously, Pikachu and Kirby simply congratulated each other on their high rankings and offered free hugs to everyone else.

Samus, DK, Ness and Link found themselves drawn to Luigi as he approached them. They saw tears threatening to spill, yet he steadfastly kept them in. He couldn't afford to break down in front of them. They needed a source of guidance and hope. They needed superglue to hold them together. Though he was just dubbed the absolute worst, he was going to fulfill that role. Mario was right—there was hidden strength in Luigi, and it was starting to come out.

"Hey," Luigi said to them, and they looked into his eyes and saw it, the quiet fortitude keeping him from sinking into the depths of self-pity. "It'll be all right."

The color had returned to his face, a healthy tan accelerated by constant exposure to sunlight. His tears had spilled over, but as they sparkled on his cheeks, his lips remained firm and his jaw squared. His cry was over before it even began. He slipped one hand into Link's and the other into Ness's, prompting the other two to join them in a circle, holding hands.

"We're going to be okay," Luigi assured them, knowing that they wanted to believe it with every ounce of their being. "I promise."

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