8-2: Mute City

Douglas Jay Falcon, F-Zero champion and bounty hunter, stood at the Mute City racetrack, preening. He wore his usual blue-and-gold racer outfit which showed off his awesome abdominals. A gold scarf was tied around his neck, and a helmet and mask concealed his hair and eyes. His face was handsome and chiseled, a hit with the ladies, and his charm had won him the affections of a certain Intergalactic Bounty Hunter when the Original Twelve first met up. Captain Falcon had become a meme-tastic Smasher, courtesy of his conveniently falcon-shaped "FALCOOOOOOOOOOON PAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWNCH!"

"YES!" interjected Captain Falcon as he anticipated the adventurer coming his way. A very interesting fighter, this one, who never failed to surprise anybody—or prove them wrong. Luigi was a pivotal part of the good Captain's life in Smash from the get-go, the heart and the spine of the Formidable Four. How else could they survive the tiny cracks such as: "You're a secret character; we haven't unlocked you yet"? How else could they stand out from the other eight? You made a statement, and Luigi had grown increasingly proficient at that.

Then, Douglas bit his lip, remembering the flip side of the coin that was his friendship with the man in green. It was the racer who'd bestowed the name of "the last-place loser" upon Luigi one unforgettable, regrettable and drunken night—the night the tier list was first released, no less. Initially ranked 3rd on the A tier, he'd joined Fox McCloud in belittling, harassing and pranking the bottom-tier plumber. Falcon could expertly recall the various bathroom pranks which made up their repertoire, the gloating sessions they had on their blogs and how they'd rubbed their high rankings in during their matches. It got so bad that Luigi flipped out on him during a match at Hyrule Castle, and he was nearly disqualified from a free-for-all against the racer and Fox shortly thereafter. Falcon finally saw the light after his recklessness caused Luigi to win over him by doing absolutely nothing, the man in green visibly agitated and railing at him in the aftermath. It took a while, but he eventually won Luigi back over, along with the rest of the Formidable Four. Both he and Fox had apologized to the Smashers and vowed never to let their high rankings get to them like that again.

That had been two years ago. In Melee, Douglas had been slightly nerfed, now occupying the B tier, and saw it as karma brought on by his display in '99. But his pal, Fox, had been buffed all the way to the top! Apparently, the promise he'd made was left in the dust as the vulpine quickly adopted a fabulous-me, too-cool-for-everyone-else attitude, talking about how he was a "Melee God" and rambling about 20XX. Falcon was known to the serious tournament players as 20GX, and though he was nerfed, he was considered along the "Melee Elite". Still, he couldn't help but worry over Fox's acting like a celebrity, fretting that he'd push the entire roster away like both of them almost did in '99.

Especially with Luigi, who'd developed an instinctive mistrust toward the higher-tier fighters in between tournaments. He was pulled out of the rut of being bottom-tier, and he certainly wasn't acting like Mr. Moneybags! When was Fox going to learn to stop thumbing his nose at people just because of some list?

"Captain Falcon."

Douglas looked up at the sound of his name. The man he'd waited for stood across from him on the platform, his face expressionless, eager and somber all at once. Falcon had never seen him wear a sports watch before, and it looked good on him. By the pace of Luigi's breaths and the slight band of perspiration, the good Captain could tell that he'd run a marathon to get here. Which was true—he had to traverse an entire racetrack to progress here!

"Luigi," Falcon replied, standing erect and striding confidently toward him.

Mixed emotions danced on Luigi's face as he drank in his friend. He'd never forget the night when Douglas stumbled in, dead drunk, yelling about what a loser he was and calling him a name. Luigi himself had been imbibing, but not as much as the interloper, and he'd been dancing it off, as well. But after putting up with stuff like this all day, Luigi had reached his limit. He'd rolled up his sleeves and let all of his aggression float to the surface. And the song playing as the duo slugged it out—"The Rocky Road to Dublin". Quite fitting.

However, that was two years ago, and Luigi was willing to forgive and forget—at least, in Falcon's case. He had more unapologetic tormentors to deal with—most notably a reptilian monarch who got a kick out of snatching peachy princesses and a certain Gerudo who'd stop at nothing to use the Triforce to take over Hyrule!

"You look ready to try and beat the snot out of me," stated Luigi in a soft, level voice, the waves of adrenaline in his chest and ribcage good to feel. "Shall we begin?"

"Sure, let's get to it!" Falcon happily replied, positioning a fighting stance.

"That's it? No flippant or rude comments?"

Falcon smiled. "I learned the first time, L."

READY—GO!

"Show me ya moves!" challenged Douglas, snapping off a crisp salute.

And Luigi did just that, once he got the mighty Falcon to approach him. But could the racer handle his moves? They were radically different from 1999, though still similar to Mario's. Luigi had crafted his own identity as a Smasher when he returned for Melee, practicing his new moves privately before a mirror and then dazzling everyone with them during the exhibition matches. He was more than willing to show them off to Mr. Show Me Ya Moves. Especially after the way he acted last time. He wasn't last place anymore, and he sure wasn't a loser! Try as he might, Luigi couldn't stop the memories of that fateful day, not his match against Koopa but the day the first tier list was posted on the bulletin board, from invading him. Mario had known about it, yet instead of coming out and saying it, he told a lie by omission. Rather than letting it poison him, he stood firm against it, comforting the others who were low-ranked and taking a guarded stance around the higher tiers. He wrote eloquently about it on the Smash blog, defied his foes to laugh at him during battles, sparred with dummies, Polygons and friends or simply danced it off to 90s pop. And on that day, as he sought to recover from stolen hopes, Captain Falcon showed up and threw gas onto his blazing fire. His mini-tirade rang in his ears along with that song as he threw punches and fireballs, Douglas punching back but unable to stand a chance against him. As the fight reached its climax, something popped loose inside of Luigi, making him shout louder than he'd ever shouted in his life. And the exact same thing was happening now, powerful, wordless interjections vomiting from his lungs as he launched into a no-holds-barred display of his moves. Cyclones, misfired Missiles, Super Jump Punches and all of his Smashes. Up or down throws into aerial chops and kicks. Back throws for spacing. Fireballs for retreating. Dodging and feinting. Concentrating. Releasing. The Big Blue theme had been replaced by the Mute City theme as the plumber took on the racer, trying to spike him with his d-air or his shy dirt kick of a taunt, slamming his knifehand thrusts into Falcon's waist and abdomen, chain-throwing, pummeling and kicking. The platform they were fighting on moved through the racetrack, depositing them in certain areas for short periods of time, the warnings letting them know when it was about to take off again. There were also those racers to deal with, and they try to send the opponent into their wake for a whopping 10% damage per hit. This part of the stage was interesting, but at least it beat out racing for one's life from those speed demons!

"FALCOOOOOOOON—PAAAAAAWWWWWNNNNCH!"

The infamous, fiery punch cannoned into Luigi's midsection, and he felt himself leave the ground, pain exploding all over him. Then, the stage rushed up to give him a big, sloppy kiss as Douglas rushed over to follow up with his down smash, a Raptor Boost, and jumping to finish with a Falcon Dive.

"YESSSSSS!"

Slightly dazed, Luigi rolled back to a standing position, his eyes focusing back on his opponent. Every fiber of his body prepared to dodge the next rush, but Falcon just stood there, chest puffed out, smiling.

"Show me ya moves!" he said again.

Agitated, Luigi blasted air between his lips and held his ground, refusing to rush headlong into the Captain's trap. He couldn't afford to make mistakes like that. Instead, he danced about, shooting fireballs with a snap of his fingers, penetrating deep with his eyes, begging Falcon to keep up his taunting. Falcon attempted a Falcon Kick, but Luigi smoothly slid out of the way and spun into him with two Cyclones, then grabbed him and chucked him upwards for another combo. Falcon DI'd away and got even with another Falcon Punch, plus three Falcon Kicks and a Falcon Dive, and then a knee smash. The knee made contact with Luigi's jaw, blood fountaining up on impact. Falcon began a combo of his own, with more aerial knees, shoulder charges, elbow strikes, kick attacks and rapid jabs followed by an uppercut. Then, he stomped downward, smashing Luigi back to the floor.

Douglas Jay Falcon was really going to see moves now.

Luigi swept his legs around and got up, immediately launching into jabs and kicks and then taking a chance with his up smash and an aerial Cyclone. He continued with his Screwdriver Kick, scores of forward smashes, kicks and chops, low heel kicks to trip him and finally overhand swipes to juggle him. He managed to get some powerful ones under the chin, to the jaw, on the collarbone and finally on the torso region. His yells increased as he unleashed his inner beast on the racer before him, the racer in question escaping every so often to pull off those flawless yet painful Falcon Punches. But he could throw a hundred punches—heck, he could punch till his knuckles cracked—it would never be enough to fell Luigi!

"Come on, Luigi! Let's see more of those moves!" exhorted Douglas as he dashed forward with a Raptor Boost and missed.

"Fine—you asked for it," panted Luigi, slamming serious punches into sides, belly and face and then switching to forward and down smashes, n-airs, f-airs and b-airs. He grabbed the racer by his scarf and slammed him onto the stage over and over again, setting up combos and then returning to chain-throws, using the occasional racecars as springboards. Grab and slam. Grab and slam. Combo. Space. Cyclone. Grab and slam. Repeat. All over the stage. The floor hummed slightly with the racer's body hitting it constantly, but Luigi was on a roll, slipping in old, well-practiced combos and new ones he made up on a whim. Blood and sweat trailed down his face and body. He was in pain from those Falcon Punches, Falcon Kicks, knee smashes and everything else his opponent unloaded on him. But he wasn't going to land another blow on him—not on this match! Just let him talk about Luigi being the bottom of the food chain after today!

He was flattered and touched to see Falcon sitting near the front that day, that cocky smile on his face which was infuriating one minute and encouraging the next. Of course, Samus was next to him, in her green tank top and green scarf. But having the F-Zero racer behind him, cheering for him and shouting for him to hang in there was a refreshing change of pace from the arrogant man he dealt with two years ago. He did as the Captain commanded and showed his moves to the big, bad turtle who somehow snatched the advantage from him and showed his moves. He remembered the ripping pain and seeing his own blood on the Battlefield stage; he remembered falling through space on that last stock loss. But most of all, he remembered the awards ceremony and the words and Ganondorf eavesdropping, eventually joining in…

What those two had to say was worse than Falcon's words to him that night. The racer deserved his forgiveness; yet Koopa and Ganon did not. But engaged in a heated match with Falcon, he saw the opportunity to assuage his soul of that two-year-old itch. Time healed some wounds, but not all of them.

As Falcon found himself the victim of combo after combo and chain-throw after chain-throw, he knew Luigi was still thinking about that night and about the aftermath of his loss to Koopa. He was never a sore loser, but let's just say Koopa was a sore winner

"Doug, my man!" chortled Koopa as he strolled into the lounge one night and clapped Falcon on the shoulder.

Falcon stonily shoved the hammy arm aside. "I don't have anything to say to you," he said as calmly as he could.

Koopa had the gall to look offended. "Is this a way to treat a friend or a fellow Smasher?" he asked.

"You may be a fellow Smasher, but you're no friend of mine," stated Falcon.

"Wow, what crawled up your muscled butt?" sniggered Koopa.

"Nothing," shrugged Falcon. "I just don't like you right now."

"C'mon—I'm not that bad of a supervillain," Koopa persisted.

"Lusting after princesses? Badgering plumbers?"

"They let me participate in sports and kart races. Doug—we were friends once, remember?"

"Yeah? Well, that changed after I overheard you rip Luigi a new one."

"Well, it's true, isn't it? I seem to recall you said it yourself—that he's the bottom of the food chain, a n—b. So, you catch what I'm talking about."

"I was blind, proud and stupid back then," said Douglas, "but what you said to Luigi was mean. And unforgivable. And in front of the replay monitors, too!"

Koopa ordered a double Scotch on the rocks. "Tell me one time when you've seen that Green Bean do anything notable in Melee," he said.

"How about beating the Prince of Altea at Yoshi's Island?" challenged Falcon as the aforementioned bluenette nodded in agreement. "How about trouncing Fox without items on Final Destination—five times so far? How about the Team Stamina Battle where he rushed to Mario's defense? I'm telling you, it even had Pichu going crazy!"

"Yeah, he beat them, all right," sniffed Koopa. "Too bad he didn't beat me."

"Now that's just low," muttered the racer as he ordered a club soda, knowing that he'd require something stronger to cope with Koopa's smarminess. "Listen, I have to attend to my own business now. Good talk."

He knew from his college writing courses about Kairos, the right or opportune moment, which tended to work with matters of persuasion but could also be applied to a situation such as this one. That being said, Douglas made absolutely certain that Luigi was in the mood to hear about his exchange with Koopa that night. Luigi appeared to take it well, a little too well, and invited him to a rather aggressive spar before the day's matches commenced.

"Let me know when you're about to have a rematch with him," said Captain Falcon as they parted ways, "because I want to be there when you teach him a lesson."

Even as Luigi was owning him, Captain Falcon was gleefully awaiting the day when Koopa reaped what he'd sown that day. He was still fantasizing about it when the plumber hollered one last time and laid his finishing strike—an upwards angled Trowel Stab. Like the bird attributed to his surname, Douglas soared off the racetrack and into the blast line.

GAME!

"How's that for moves?!" screamed Luigi, his body shaking like a car with its gears stripped. He dropped to his knees, feeling the raw emotions and the activity get to him. He struggled to pull himself from the brink of hyperactivity. It was the last thing he wanted, especially if he was past the halfway point of this adventure.

"Falcon giving you problems again?" asked Master Hand.

"Not really," said Luigi. "It's been two years, but I hear his words. It's like Koopa said them."

"There you go again with Koopa," sighed Master Hand. "If he did something to you, Mario or Peach or said something, then why don't you tell me?"

"I doubt you'll be able to do anything about it," Luigi said softly. "He persists in snatching the Princess—how likely is it that he'll listen to you? MH—I'm a grown man. I can handle this. Trust me. I can."

But Master Hand was still uncertain. With three stages remaining in Adventure Mode, would Luigi be able to hold it together?

YES!