Money Power Glory
Ego (n): 1: the self as distinguished from others
Egoism (n): 2: excessive concern for oneself with or without exaggerated feelings of self-importance
Egotism (n): the practice of talking about oneself too much; an exaggerated sense of self-importance
-from the Merriam-Webster Dictionary, 6th ed. (2004)
Luigi was a good clubber and an expert party guy. He was responsible, often a designated driver, or designated a driver when the lure of liquor was too strong for him. He watched his drinks to make sure he didn't become totally smashed, but if he did, he'd always make sure he wouldn't find himself passed out in an unknown, deserted alley. Even if his days were bad, he'd never rely primarily on alcohol to make them better. He'd have pasta, pizza or favorite activities to do that.
A Poppin' Purple Tanqueray sat in front of him in a funny-shaped glass. The first time he had a Poppin' Purple Tanqueray was in this very lounge, to ease the first-day jitters. One sip, and he fell in love. Equal parts sweet and tangy, lemony and melon-y, with the right amount of kick. The Polygon bartender had caught on quickly, so whenever Luigi walked into the lounge, it made sure a glass of Poppin' Purple Tanqueray was waiting for him. Luigi tipped that Polygon generously.
Luigi took another sip of Poppin' Purple Tanqueray and smiled. Differences seemed to have been abandoned as the Smashers sought some R&R together. All except (surprise!) Fox and Falcon, who were holed up in the latter's room, blasting rock and rap tunes at max volume and getting plugged to the gills. Luigi had happened upon their room, wishing to speak to them, but he was so disgusted with what he heard that he abandoned the venture. So, he took refuge in his favorite lounge, with his new favorite drink, savoring the friendly atmosphere.
Upper tiers and lower tiers mixed and mingled. Luigi saw Yoshi join Kirby and Pikachu for a few rounds of darts. Mario, DK and a gaggle of Polygons played charades. Ness was playing some card game with Samus. Jiggs swayed to the music while Link busted a move. The dance floor was already occupied with various Polygons.
One by one, each Smasher in the lounge abandoned their activities, the music calling to them like the Pied Piper luring all of the children away. One by one, they joined the Polygons on the dance floor. Luigi's eyes were glued to the dancing bodies, and he felt the music and the drink inside of him. He was wound so tight and needed release. And so he picked up his drink and made his way to the floor.
And then he was in the middle of the crowd, dancing. 80s electronic disco, 80s and 90s dance, hip-hop and pop. Techno, synth, party music. Luigi worked up a sweat to these sweet beats. Unfortunately, he wasn't as careful with his drink as he would've liked, and it sloshed over the glass and all over him, his tongue licking it off. The others began to take notice of his limber, shimmying body and sending their own energy to him. Luigi saw that he had their attention and really started busting loose, breaking down his body as the songs melted into each other. The Polygons tried to copy his steamy little shimmy and did sloppy jobs of doing so. Back in his home world, Luigi was a very good dancer, one thing he could best Mario at. The Toads would be screaming over him, just like the Smashers were screaming over him, and fawning and further stimulating him with their cries. Oh, how he danced! His body let out the inhibitions and frustrations he'd carried with him all day. Smash had become a competitive world, but here, things were more relaxed. He put his lips to his glass and sipped down some more of that precious nectar. And then he stopped thinking about everything and danced some more.
This is the rhythm of the night
The night, oh yeah
The rhythm of the night
This is the rhythm of my life
My life, oh yeah
The rhythm of my life
You could put some joy upon my face
Oh, sunshine in an empty place
Take me to turn to, and babe I'll make you stay
Oh, I can ease you of your pain
Feel you give me love again
Round and round we go, each time I hear you say
This is the rhythm of the night
The night, oh yeah
The rhythm of the night
This is the rhythm of my life
My life, oh yeah
The rhythm of my life
Won't you teach me how to love and learn
There'll be nothing left for me to yearn
Think of me and burn, and let me hold your hand
I don't wanna face the world in tears
Please think again, I'm on my knees
Sing that song to me, no reason to repent
I know you wanna say it
When he could no longer ignore his parched throat, he danced his way back to his seat, where the bartender saw him, all sweaty and winded, and immediately mixed a refill of his drink. Luigi thanked him and settled down to catch his breath, beginning to suck down his beverage. The beginnings of tipsiness were there, the tingle, the peculiar wildness, and Luigi welcomed it. Back he skipped to the dance floor, resuming his shimmying dance and then beginning to undulate and wind his hips. Everyone screamed in admiration. He snaked his free hand through his hair and down himself, allowing himself more freedom than he would back home. The slow, suggestive grind. Rocking, bumping and swaying through a riff. He put his hands on the waist of the Polygon dancing against him and sliding them up its body. Another Polygon came up from behind and sandwiched him between the two, three bodies in motion. Gently, Luigi would tip some of his beverage into the mouths of his dance partners, and they'd offer him sips of their margaritas. Luigi was really loosening up now, and he was having a lot of fun.
Then, there was a No Doubt song with a beat which Luigi claimed as his, so the other dancers stepped back and let him have the floor. Luigi really loved No Doubt and their music:
Hey baby, hey baby, hey
Girls say, boys say
Hey baby, hey baby, hey
Hey baby, baby
I'm the kinda girl that hangs with the guys
Like a fly on the wall with my secret eyes
Takin' it in, try to be feminine
With my makeup bag watchin' all the sin
Misfit, I sit
Lit up, wicked
Everybody else surrounded by the girls
With the tank tops and the flirty ways
I'm just sippin' on chamomile
Watching boys and girls and their sex appeal
With a stranger in my face who says he knows my mom
And went to my high school
All the boys say
Hey baby, hey baby, hey
Girls say, girls say
Hey baby, hey baby, hey
Hey baby, baby
Hey baby, hey baby, hey
Boys say, boys say
Hey baby, hey baby, hey
All the boys get the girls in the back
I'm the one they feed upon
Give a bit, a star is born
And if you're hot enough, you'll get the pass
So you can tell your friends how you made it back
No matter what they say I'm still the same
Somehow everybody knows my name
And all the girls wanna get with the boys
And the boys really like it
All the boys say
Hey baby, hey baby, hey
Girls say, girls say
Hey baby, hey baby, hey
Hey baby, baby
Hey baby, hey baby, hey
Boys say, boys say
Hey baby, hey baby, hey
All the boys get the girls in the back
Check it out, it's Bounty Killer and No Doubt
Jump on the stage makes me goin' crazy
Afterwards myself and one of them, gorgeous ladies
There is no need to be actin' shady
C'mon baby, hey, hey baby
Jump on the stage makes me goin' crazy
Afterwards myself and one of them, gorgeous ladies
There is no need to be actin' shady
C'mon baby, hey, hey baby
Way you rock your hips you know that it amaze me
Got me off the hook and nothing else don't phase me
Can you be my one and only sunshine, lady
If no, no maybe, hey baby
I'm just sippin' on chamomile
Watching boys and girls and their sex appeal
With a stranger in my face who says he knows my mom
And went to my high school
(That's right)
All the boys say
Hey baby, hey baby, hey
Girls say, girls say
Hey baby, hey baby, hey
Hey, baby, baby
Hey baby, hey baby, hey
Boys say, boys say
Hey baby, hey baby, hey
(Can you be my one and only sunshine, lady)
Hey baby, hey baby, hey
Girls say, girls say
Hey baby, hey baby, hey
(Way you rock your hips you know that it amaze me)
Hey baby, hey baby, hey
Boys say, boys say
Hey baby, hey baby, hey
All the boys get the girls in the back
After that came a few more songs Luigi didn't quite catch the names to except for the one about pumping up the jam. And he just let everything that happened today just trickle out and away, because through dance, he could really express himself. He lit up that floor until his glass was empty, and he didn't even notice that until the songs slowed down a bit. By then, Luigi was in need of recharging.
"You feeling alright, man?" asked the Polygon, armed with another refill.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks," smiled Luigi, flipping the bartender some G. He settled back and let his pulse return to normal as he nursed his drink.
"You can always count on me, okay?" said the Polygon.
"Okay."
"Woo! That green moustache was burning the floor!" another Polygon cried.
"He has a name, you know," Mario told him, rolling his eyes.
The Polygon just ignored him, gushing about Luigi's fancy footwork.
Things are looking up right now, Luigi thought to himself. We'll fight our last matches, eat dinner and go to bed. Tomorrow, we'll go back to our normal routine.
The man in green took another swallow. He'd end this day in peace.
But just as he made that resolution, the peace was shattered.
"Hey! Hey, hey!" boomed a familiar voice.
So drunk that they had to support each other, Falcon and Fox had crashed the party. The dancing stopped. The music stopped. Everything stopped.
"Oh, my God. I don't believe it," murmured a Polygon.
"Can I help you guys?" asked Mario, taking charge of the situation.
"Where is he?" slurred Douglas. "The last-place loser? You're the bottom of the food chain, buddy!"
Luigi sat rigidly, barely breathing.
"Somebody here had better explain the pecking order to him, because it's not fun-and-games anymore!" hiccupped Fox.
Yeah, thanks to you, thought Luigi.
"Are you guys drunk?" asked Mario.
"What? We're not allowed to indulge in guilty pleasures?" huffed Fox.
"I never said that!" Mario retorted.
"Guys! The matches aren't over yet!" Jiggs admonished. "You can't fight like this! Puff!"
"Shall I get the bouncers?" asked the bartender.
"No, no," said Mario. "Everything's under control."
"The two of you had better have a good explanation to Master Hand for this," said Samus. "Douglas, before you even start, drinking and flirting do not mix."
Luigi stared hard at the reflections of Fox and Falcon in his glass as a finger leisurely circled the rim.
"C'mon, you n—b! You can't hide from us!" challenged Falcon. "Let's go! Let's see how low you are!"
In a smoothly executed motion, Luigi drained the last of his glass. Setting it down, he turned to face to two interlopers. They saw that his eyes were still clear, and he wasn't swaying or wavering, either. But the way he was looking at them, though—it was a look which would send even the almighty Koopa running for the hills.
Luigi slid off his chair and onto his feet to soft applause from the Polygons, Samus, Link, DK and Ness. Pikachu and Kirby watched with greedy eyes. Jiggs's and Yoshi's eyes darted from the good Captain to the plumber. And Mario warily gazed upon the tense scene.
"Luigi…" he breathed.
Those bright eyes flicked to him, practically begging Mario to try and stop him. Steadily, he moved toward the drunk A tiers, casually rolling up one sleeve and then the other. People tended to call him a string bean, but his limbs had some meat to them; all they had to do was look closely enough, and they'd see. Muscles, tendons and nerves flexed, contracted and stretched as Luigi made tight and hard fists and raised them up to his face, his singular, acidic stare boring into Falcon and Fox.
As the sounds of an Irish folk song began to fill the air, Falcon yelled out, "Yes! Time to settle this like men—if you're even capable of doing that!"
Fox talked smack, but he apparently was in no mood for a fight. He left that task to Captain Falcon.
Straight at Luigi the muscular racer lunged, and was met halfway with well calculated and coordinated attacks. The man in green darted right in and lit into the good Captain's ripped upper body. Falcon had charged in blindly and was now paying for it, the alcohol making his movements sluggish and clumsy. Luigi, on the other hand, was still lightning on his feet and had his opponent figured out like a Rubik's Cube. He could easily dodge and parry wild, badly aimed blows. Who could've known that he'd consumed almost as much spirits as Douglas? It was hard to tell as Luigi cleverly threw Falcon off-balance and then used him as a punching bag, bludgeoning away at the face once he was certain the racer would be bent double for a while. His body pivoted and sent hooks smashing into Falcon's ears, disorienting him further. Then, he'd pelt that handsome, chiseled face with his fireballs and blast away some more at the abdominal region—perhaps a bit lower—when he noticed Douglas trying to straighten back up.
They circled one another, and Luigi waited for Falcon to rush again, which he did. And again, Luigi caught him, got right in his face and unleashed a controlled firestorm on that masculine frame, in every sense of the word. Punching, kicking and even throwing. Luigi heard shouts, starting with the C tier group and spreading like a pandemic. It was a virus inside him, a virus which quickly took hold, and he absorbed the shouts and listened to the music and his breathing as he sidestepped haphazard swings and counterattacked quickly, and then threw some long-range attacks before causing Falcon to reel once more.
The persistent tempo of the music. The shouts taking on cadence. Falcon's words stuck in his head. Fox's voice, mocking him despite the fact that Mario had ambushed him and now gripped his waist in a bear hug. The slur in Falcon's voice as he continued to rile him up. The tier list, still hanging nonchalantly on that bulletin board. And the spectators, gamers, tier list makers and suits, making a decision about him before he could have a real chance to show them what he could do.
Suddenly, Falcon rebounded with unrelenting, glancing blows to Luigi's face. He dealt some devastating knee strikes and plenty of good ones under the chin. Maybe the alcohol was starting to wear off, or the good Captain was starting to realize who he was dealing with. But Luigi had put his mind to something, and he was going to get it done. He streamed out a slow breath and kept up his attacks, staying on the offensive, staying focused, his fantasies becoming reality as he continued to hammer away at abs, sides, torso, shoulders and face. The pupils of his eyes dilated as the cheers and hollers increased in intensity and that song went on and on. His heartbeats sounded like tam-tams in his chest and his emotions were all over the place. His eyes shot pain more accurately than his fists, but Falcon was still in his own little world and wanted to show this C tier who was boss.
Luigi wouldn't give him the satisfaction of throwing caution to the wind in exchange for brute force. Nor would he allow him to see that his provocations were actually working. When word of this got out, Luigi was going to be the victim and Falcon the instigator. It would be determined that Luigi acted in self-defense. So, he hung back when he wanted to charge and saved his angry assault for when the racer was barreling at him. Falcon wasn't going to twist this incident around. And the witnesses would all agree—the good Captain started this.
Luigi was really getting into it when Douglas decided to play dirty. Snatching up a tumbler, he let the liquid fly straight into his opponent's face. The plumber reeled backwards with a startled shout. The racer pounced on him then, opening his offensive with two face blows, several knees and a barrage of punches everywhere, ending with a crushing uppercut which crashed Luigi to the floor.
Now he'd done it. Now he'd done it. Now Luigi was really mad.
As he got back up, he heard Falcon continuing to spew his drunken garbage and turned to see him, arms spread wide, yelling at him to show him his moves, as if he didn't already.
Oh—kay. That's torn it. Falcon wanted moves, and he'd get moves. A hangover the next morning would be the least of his problems. He was going to remember this day—and remember the man in green.
While in the merry month of May, from me home I started
Left the girls of Tuam so sad and broken hearted
Saluted father dear, kissed me darling mother
Drank a pint of beer, me grief and tears to smother
Then off to reap the corn, leave where I was born
Cut a stout black thorn to banish ghosts and goblins
Bought a pair of brogues rattling o'er the bogs
And fright'ning all the dogs on the rocky road to Dublin
One, two, three, four, five,
Hunt the Hare and turn her down the rocky road
All the way to Dublin, whack follol de rah!
Douglas seemed to enjoy pushing Luigi's buttons and continued to do so, the slurred shouting making the plumber's nostrils flare dangerously. He held it all in to the point he couldn't take anymore—he just couldn't take anymore and he was going to give in to this rage and fall into Douglas's trap—until Douglas lost patience and barreled at him, Luigi's cue to release the proverbial restraints and make this guy eat his words. All bets were off now. He was forcing Falcon backwards now—pushing him back with punches the way he did with that Polygon. None of those fancy moves could save him from Luigi's concerted assault. Falcon could lash back, but Luigi recovered quickly. He wasn't going to be the loser the racer insisted he was.
In Mullingar that night I rested limbs so weary
Started by daylight next morning blithe and early
Took a drop of pure to keep me heart from sinking
That's a Paddy's cure whenever he's on drinking
See the lassies smile, laughing all the while
At me curious style, 'twould set your heart a bubblin'
Asked me was I hired, wages I required
I was almost tired of the rocky road to Dublin
One, two, three, four, five
Hunt the Hare and turn her down the rocky road
All the way to Dublin, whack follol de rah!
Nobody in that lounge knew, but there was another spectator watching this fistfight. And he was watching it from outside the door, positioned so that he could see them, but they couldn't see him. It was Master Hand, awakened from his nap by the commotion, and from the moment he walked in on this fight, his sights on Luigi never strayed for a moment. He saw the tempestuous fury coloring his face. He saw two tiny images of Falcon reflected in those animated, dilated pupils. He felt the explosive emotions dancing inside the plumber's soul. He felt the sparkles of determination and his shamelessness over doing something he knew was wrong. He saw the Smashers and Polygons circling the two, most if not all of them cheering for Luigi. He heard the shouts blending together and the music playing. He saw Luigi take blows as if they were nothing; he saw the blood pouring all over his battered face. He saw Falcon's obviously drunken state. And he saw the looks Luigi continued to give the racer, that he was fed up, wired, cross and not going to take feces from people like him anymore. Nobody called him a n—b and got away with it!
In Dublin next arrived, I thought it such a pity
To be soon deprived a view of that fine city
So then I took a stroll, all among the quality
Me bundle it was stole, all in a neat locality
Something crossed me mind, when I looked behind
No bundle could I find upon me stick a wobblin'
Inquiring for the rogue, they said me Connaught brogue
Wasn't much in vogue on the rocky road to Dublin
One, two, three, four, five
Hunt the Hare and turn her down the rocky road
All the way to Dublin, whack follol de rah!
Master Hand withdrew in time to hear the first peals of exhilarated hollering coming from Luigi. The raucous noises from the others and the traditional tune got to him. His voice rose and rose, nearly muffling the sounds of the blows both sides traded. He still didn't know whether to punish them for breaking the rules or just letting them fight their own battle out. Luigi took the brunt of a ton of mess today, and he saw how inspired Samus, DK, Ness and Link were to see the worst fighter on the roster making a stand. Luigi began yelling more explosively. Master's mind was made up. The man in green would not be punished.
He let Mr. Sakurai know via e-mail how wonderful and helpful the tier list was and then continued to visually spectate the fight, musing over the peculiar yet fitting choice of music.
From there I got away, me spirits never falling
Landed on the quay, just as the ship was sailing
The Captain at me roared, said that no room had he
When I jumped aboard, a cabin found for Paddy
Down among the pigs, played some hearty rigs
Danced some hearty jigs, the water round me bubbling
When off Holyhead, I wished meself was dead
Or better for instead on the rocky road to Dublin
One, two, three, four, five
Hunt the Hare and turn her down the rocky road
All the way to Dublin, whack follol de rah!
Slowly but surely, tempers boiled themselves down, shouts decreased and energy expended itself. The fisticuffs were winding down now. The combatants were pulling themselves together and realizing the trouble they were probably in, hoping that Master didn't notice their scrap. Or Luigi was standing over a crumpled and beaten Falcon, trying and failing to make him take back his words. Who knew what could be going on in there now?
Master decided that the time to intervene was now. He leaned into the microphone and spoke.
"Attention all Smashers, please get ready for your final matches."
Well, the boys of Liverpool, when we safely landed
Called meself a fool, I could no longer stand it
Blood began to boil, temper I was losing
Poor old Erin's Isle they began abusing
"Hurrah me soul" says I, me Shillelagh I let fly
Some Galway boys were nigh and saw I was a hobble in
With a load "Hurray" joined in the affray
We quietly cleared the way for the rocky road to Dublin
One, two, three, four, five
Hunt the Hare and turn her down the rocky road
And all the way to Dublin, whack follol de rah!
Story is mine; lyrics are not. Reviews are appreciated.
