Come Together, Come Apart
Face (n): 5: outward appearance; 8: a front, principal, bounding or contacting surface
Value (n): 2: the monetary worth of a thing; also, relative worth, utility, or importance; 3: an assigned or computed numerical quantity
-from the Merriam-Webster Dictionary, 6th ed (2004)
Face value (n): the value printed or depicted on a coin, bank note, postage stamp, etc., especially when less the actual or intrinsic value; the superficial appearance or implication of something
-from Google Search
It was Master Hand's idea to give his Smasher a two-hour match break after putting up the tier list, but he doubted that two hours would be enough.
He saw it all, read it all, and knew it all. He was the creator of this tournament; therefore, he knew what the participants were thinking and feeling. Especially when it came to tiers.
Master Hand was well-versed in psychology and sociology. Even before Sakurai sent him that thing, he knew it would have many sociological and psychological effects on the fighters. Primarily, some would let it get to their heads and use it as some sort of class system. Higher tiers would look down on the lower tiers, and the lower tiers would feel weak, worthless and pitiful. Psychologically, the high tiers would feel and act like they were better than all of the rest, and the low tiers would feel like peasants. What he observed earlier enforced all of this.
Especially with Luigi.
He was there when the man in green fought his way to the front of the crowd, so much eagerness, excitement and hope shining on his face. He was there when, as soon as he saw his placement, the light went out of his eyes, and he visibly deflated. He was there as he fought back his tears and sought comfort from Mario, Yoshi and the C-tiers. Something had told him to pull him aside and talk to him, but he felt no need to after he noticed Luigi comforting Samus, DK, Ness and Link instead of vice versa.
As predicted, Captain Falcon and Fox were all over the place with their rankings, hamming it up, milking it dry and rubbing it in the faces of other Smashers (except Samus, in Falcon's case, when she calmly asked him to stop). The duo could now be seen strutting the halls of the Smash Mansion like a pair of peacocks, emphasizing how important they were. Master Hand reminded himself to lecture them before the matches started up again.
But Pikachu and Kirby were different. They—were the most gracious of top tiers. Master expected them to be the obnoxious ones, rather than the racer and vulpine. But obnoxious wasn't a word to describe either of those two. They kept their celebrations subtle, giving hugs to the lower tiers to show that they were still their friends. Not so much for Falcon and Fox! Smashers they'd been chummy with in the past (e.g. Luigi) were shamelessly shunned. The C-tiers were a little guarded in interacting with the higher tiers; in fact, Luigi was extremely protective of his fellow C-tiers. Invisible boundaries seemed to be drawn—the tiers now dictated where they Smashers sat, who they were close to and who they trusted. Except for Pikachu, Kirby and Yoshi, proud of their ranks but not letting them define their friendships.
When Master Hand reluctantly resumed matches, he was alarmed upon noticing the increased tension. Higher tiers, especially Fox and Falcon, enjoyed dumping on the lower tiers during a match, even fighting dirty at one point. Master had to penalize the vulpine once and the racer twice before they stopped with the dirty fighting, but they still let loose with sugar-coated barbs and trash-talking. In the interval between matches, the gym, lounge and Training Areas became populated with B and C tiers.
And the audience wasn't even better! As soon as word got out that Luigi was dead last, it was open season for him. He was mocked for being a clone, heckled, booed and hissed at, taunted because of his low ranking and even physically harassed by a few spectators! Master Hand warned them that they would be permanently barred from spectating if their behavior persisted, but it was as if he wasn't there. Luckily, the handful of fans eagerly awaiting Luigi's appearance were there to shower him with support, girding him for the battles ahead.
Then, there was Mario. When he wasn't proving an A tier or a S tier wrong in battle (mostly the A tiers), he was spectating all of Luigi's matches, just like he always had. First row, middle seat had become Mario's signature spot, and seeing him there automatically meant that Luigi was going to kick some butt. As the green-clad plumber gave his opponents a run for their money and tuned out the boos and jeers from the haters, Jumpman jumped up and down in his seat, sometimes leaping to his feet, cheering like he was cheering for the New York Giants, sometimes calling out to his baby bro in Italian. The more Mario cheered, the harder Luigi fought, and the look Master Hand often glimpsed in his eyes said more than this paragraph I'm typing right now. All of that early afternoon, match after match, the Eternal Understudy sweated, bled, gave as good as he got—and shouted. The finality and the heat of a given match got into Luigi's blood and he yelled almost as much as Mario. By the time Master called another respite, Luigi ached from giving and taking hits, and his throat was raw.
In those quiet moments, it all came crashing back down. Coming here with a possibility ahead of him to have that possibility brutally snatched away. Trying to escape coming in second, but having it cling fast to him. And now, Sakurai's little "[bleep] you" to the man in green was the final factor in a macabre equation. And what a macabre equation it was.
The fists which pounded opponents now pounded walls and doors, pounded them hard enough to leave dents. Through it all, Luigi cried softly, his solitude allowing him to finally let go those feelings. He'd give everything to make the booing stop, to make the mocking and the hating stop, to make that stupid list go away. Falcon—a fellow secret fighter—was now turning his nose up at him. And now, Fox had time for the A and the S tiers, but no time for the B and C tiers—especially the worst fighter on the roster! Pikachu, Kirby, Yoshi, Jiggs and Mario were nicer to him. It was just that Luigi had his guard up around them, unsure of whether it was an act for some of them. He felt a greater affinity toward DK, Link and Samus, and they arranged themselves into a tiny "clique", similar to Fox and Falcon's relationship, except that it welcomed everyone and not a select few.
Finally, Luigi calmed down and used the phone in his room to summon his fellow C-tiers.
"What is it, L?" asked Ness.
Luigi beamed. "Anyone up for a game of Twister?"
The scooper dipped into the tub of ice cream and then emerged, filled with the cool guilty pleasure. Then, the scoop was released into the bowl with a soft plop. Scoop, release, plop, repeat.
Twelve generous-size bowls of ice cream laid neatly on a tray. A pair of pink appendages grabbed the bottle of fudge topping and gave it a squeeze. The yummy, gooey goodness piled onto the ice cream in squiggles. Once the ice-creams were doused in topping, on came a dollop or two of Cool Whip, and at last, a cherry.
Kirby's mouth watered as he studied his hand-crafted sundaes, but he knew only one of them was his. However delicious this looked, he had to see this mission through to the end.
Picking up the tray, Kirby puffed out of the kitchen and into the lounge, where the Smashers sat. A light frown graced his round face at the sight greeting him. His friends had all segregated themselves into different tables after looking at a piece of paper. Kirby felt heartbroken by this. He was proud to be top tier, but he didn't want all of his new pals sitting away from each other! Surely, the tier list wasn't supposed to be used as some caste system. It was merely a guide for more competitive players, and nothing else.
Pikachu looked up when Kirby placed the tray onto "their" table. "Pika?" he wondered.
"Poyo," Kirby said with a wink. Delicately, he lifted a sundae from the tray and floated over to where the C tiers sat. Tiring of contorting their bodies on a mat, they were now engaged in a board game, Sorry. Even the ironically titled game seemed to be dissing Luigi, as he was at a grave disadvantage. He didn't seem to mind, smiling, laughing and talking with the other four low tiers.
Kirby got their attention with a soft "Poyo".
Five heads whipped around, Luigi immediately assuming a protective stance, distrustfully eyeing the sundae Kirby proffered.
"Poyo, poyo," said Kirby, undeterred.
Gradually, Luigi's posture relaxed, and he reached out to take the delicious dessert.
Then, Kirby gestured to the table he occupied with Kirby. "Poyo?"
"Sure. Of course I'll sit with you," said Luigi, the last of his suspicions fading away. Why he suspected the Hero of Dreamland in the first place was beyond him. He excused himself and walked with Kirby to the new table, holding his sundae carefully.
Jiggs and Mario looked up from their game of War to see Luigi striding over to Kirby and Pikachu's table. They then put down their cards and watched as Kirby picked up his tray and puffed back over to the C tiers.
"Poyo, poyo, poyo!" he called out to them.
Samus, DK, Ness and Link looked at Kirby, then at the sundaes, then at one another and then back at Kirby. Wariness flickered over their faces before Ness stood up and went to join Luigi.
"Okay!" he chirped as he took a sundae.
Link's face oozed gratitude as Kirby handed him a sundae. He situated himself to Luigi's left.
A lazy grin broke out of Samus's face, and with a roll of her eyes, she rose to her feet, crossed the room to Kirby's table, and sat beside Ness.
DK accepted his treat with contented, hungry ape noises.
The joy and friendship Kirby exuded was contagious. For the first time in hours, animated converse sprung up among the fighters. Mario and Jiggs grinned ear-to-ear as they watched the Star Warrior reunify his new friends.
"Jiggly!" said Jiggs.
"That was an extremely considerate thing to do, Kirby," Mario added softly.
Kirby held the tray out to the B tiers with a cheerful "Poyo, poyo, poy!"
Exchanging proud looks, Jiggs and Mario put their cards away and ventured over to the seats Kirby saved for them. Mario sat beside his brother, and Jiggs sat beside Pikachu.
With an enthusiastic, "Yoshi!", the green dino claimed the last sundae.
And so, there they were, the Super Smash Brothers, joking, laughing and commiserating over ice cream. Kirby was old enough to know how sweet treats could bring a room back together.
Most of it, at least. Two of the Smashers were absent from this get-together. And those two Smashers were…
"YES!"
"Oh, yeah! Woo! Make way, people!"
Hand in hand, Fox and Falcon made their grand entrance. The table occupants fired them annoyed looks, but remained silent.
"Hey, Kirby, my man!" greeted Falcon. "You're not really going to throw a party without us, are you? C'mon, save some ice cream for the winners!"
"That's right! It's time to celebrate!"
Kirby glared at them. "Poyo, poyo!"
"Kirby's right—we're all winners here!" said Link.
"And we're celebrating already," Mario led the charge. "We're celebrating being together!"
"I'm sure Kirby will hook you up if you ask nicely," said Ness.
"Pfft, if you want those sundaes, then you can have them!" eyerolled Falcon. "I see some bad apples in this bunch, and I don't want to hang around with them. How about you, Foxy?"
"Nope, and don't call me Foxy."
"Wanna get some nachos?"
"Sure."
After placing their order at the counter, Falcon swiveled around to face Yoshi. "Yoshi, what are you doing over there?" he asked. "Come hang with us and have some nachos!"
Yoshi shook his head. "Yoshi!"
"Oh, whatever!" huffed Falcon, taking a tortilla chip from his order and popping it into his mouth.
The two A tiers found a table of their own and began loudly crunching on their food. They should've been mindful of Luigi's incredulous eyes on them. Who were they to act like they owned the place? Oh, Luigi had his eye on them since that fateful list came up. Bossing the Polygons around like their own personal assistants, preening for the audience during matches, and now this. The same F-Zero racer and bounty hunter who resembled a cinnamon twist on the Twister mat beside him that morning was now too stuck up to even be at the same table as him. The same anthropomorphic fox holding the game spinner was now looking at him down the length of his nose whenever they passed each other by. Dio, it made Luigi want to puke.
Everyone else ignored the duo, thinking—hoping—that the hype would die away and that everything would be back to normal tomorrow.
Oh, how very wrong they were…
It still hadn't burned off after a few more matches were fought, and the C tiers were sick of it. Sick of it! Samus had ditched her Varia Suit for a pair of workout capris and a sports bra and was now hogging the gym, DK was downing banana-based sweets, Ness was playing baseball with some Polygons, and Luigi was in his room, sitting at his computer.
On the Smash blog, the tier list was a hot topic. Of course, there were a lot of potshots taken at the low tiers and a few cracks about how useless Luigi was. The plumber blasted air between closed lips a few times, positioned his fingers over the keyboard and began to type.
What has happened to the Formidable Four? What has happened to the Smash Family? Twelve fighters, once warm and loving and eager to share with one another, now shattered into fragments like glass. This tier list has divided us; it is slowly turning us into three hostile camps. Two of us are now acting like they own the place—can't you believe it? Well, as you all know by now, I'm the ugly duckling, the runt of the litter, the weakling, so chances are, you're not going to pay attention to what I say, but I'm going to say it anyway. I. Hate. This. Tier. List. That's right, I curse with every breath in my body the nutjob who thought of putting these things into existence, I rue the day they decided that such a thing was necessary for what was supposed to be a friendly get-together. Look at what they've done! Friendships lie in tatters, betrayed without a single tear or hint of regret. The Smash mansion seems smaller now, thanks to overinflated egos and God complexes. Now that everyone thinks I'm nothing, I've lost a critical amount of respect. But they'll see. They'll all see.
I apologize for wasting your time and valuable blog space.
Luigi clicked "Send" and immediately felt a heavy weight lift from his heart. It felt so incredibly good and daring to have his fingers fly across his keyboard, translating all of his thoughts into a blog post, pulling no punches and speaking his mind. They thought this list dictated the kind of fighter he was, but he'd show them. Samus would show them. DK, Ness and Link would show them. He wasn't about to let himself and his fellow C tiers fall victims to stigmatism, despair and self-loathing. Under his watch, the Fierce Five was going to show Nintendo what C tiers could do!
This was turning into a freaking good day.
