It had been over a year. Well over a year. The time was over. It was all over.

Link knew the end was near and yet he tried to keep his cool. He would talk to Ike casually, asking for sandwiches and whatnot. But it was time to stop messing around. He finally confronted Ike and demanded the truth.

"What are you after, Ike?"

Ike was puzzled. "The hell is this about?"

"Why are you here, Ike? Why am I here?"

"Because this is Smash Bros, right? That's why there's the mansion and shi-"

"IKE WHY IS THE FRESH PRINCE THEME THERE?"

Ike knew Link knew the answer to that question. The jig was up. Link had to know the full truth.

"Link, lemme tell you a little story.

Long ago I was a small man, right? A kid, to be exact. And I liked things and did stuff. But when you do things you also want knowledge right? So the internet comes along. With the internet knowledge is everywhere. So is not knowledge. So is fanfiction.

Now when fanfics come along it sort of makes sense. I mean, apparently people wrote their own Sherlock Holmes stories in the fucking 70's or whatever. This is different.

Link, do you know how many people write garbage? Every goddamn day? I can understand a hobby. I can understand the human imagination and how it relates to videogame writing. But when I see like 1000 fucking stories about Marth sticking his dick into Pit I really wonder, man. Like, what are they after? What do they hope to prove? Are they providing a service to themselves or others? Boredom? No, this reaches deeper."

Link was well aware of what Ike was saying. He knew people were writing things. I mean imagine finding some story about you fucking Bowser in the ass. That would be kinda awkward for most people. Others would enjoy it but they also want to fuck Bowser in the ass so I dunno about them. Ike then continued.

"You see, Link, I'm not real. None of us are. We are words. I mean we were never real but we're like, less real now, you know? There's just nothing. A grand illusion masked in literature about a fighting/party game."

Link knew. He understood. He was ready for what lied next. However, he had one, final question.

"But Ike, aren't some of those banks?"