At an undisclosed, hidden location outside of Smash Bros. Stadium Ganondorf was brooding.
Just last week he'd put up an online ad at , in search of assistants for his latest devious plot. Unfortunately he'd only gotten one reply.
Of course Ganondorf always appreciated the help he received, but he'd really been hoping for more. Or, at least, a platoon of goblins willing to help. Even one, tiny assassin who road a dragon would have been nice.
But Ganondorf couldn't think of what he didn't have right now. He had to look at his assets and approach the plot at a new angle.
He had, originally, planned it with the help of a certain fellow villain in mind. But that too had fallen apart.
Ganondorf had recently befriended Bowser, who he'd met on darklordsharmony. The two were thrilled to discover their secret lairs were actually set up right around the corner from each other.
They'd spent a lot of bonding time together after that, and Ganondorf had begun to think he'd finally found his very own bffl. But then, three days ago, they'd had their first argument. Ever.
"Hey Ganon?" Bowser had asked curiously the other day, staring at Ganondorf's scalp intently, "What's your real hair colour?"
Ganondorf had scowled in reply, raising a thick eyebrow, "What do you mean? This is my real hair colour."
Bowser regarded him skeptically a moment then gave Ganondorf a sly, secretive grin, "Come on Ganny, you can tell me. We're friends after all."
Ganondorf's frown deepened, "If we're friends, then why don't you believe me?"
Bowser's smile dropped, "Your skins too dark for your hair to be naturally red, so it has to be dyed. Unless," Bowser mused, "That's not your real skin colour..."
Ganondorf exploded (he hadn't intended to show Bowser this side of him so soon in the relationship, but he just couldn't let such implied accusations stand) "OF COURSE THIS IS MY REAL HAIR AND SKIN COLOUR!" Ganondorf yelled, then in a slightly calmer voice, "This is what people from my homeland look like!"
Bowser was momentarily taken aback, but soon growling himself, "You can't expect me to believe that! It's just not genetically possible!"
"What do you care about 'genetically possible'?" Ganondorf shouted, "You're a spiky turtle with hair- red hair!"
The Koopa King turned the colour of his 'hair' in choler, "I WAS MADE THIS WAY! I'M A WORK OF ART!"
"A GENETICALLY IMBALANCED WORK OF ART!" Ganondorf countered back.
"THAT'S A LOT COMING FROM A-"
And so that's how the argument proceeded, resulting in neither Bowser nor Ganondorf wishing to see nor speak to the other.
So now Ganondorf was stuck with the only minion who replied to his ad. Admittedly, he could have done worse. His future employee listed under skills that it could change it's appearance to that of another person or object.
Shape-shifters were always useful, and by the sounds of it, this one was a pro.
Putting down the resume and removing his spectacles, Ganondorf regarded the minion for hire, "The job is yours if you want it, though I must warn you it will be one of the most difficult assignments you've ever received. It will require you to be at the top of your game twenty four seven. What do you say?"
The minion stared at him for a moment, then replied with what appeared to be a smile, "buyoo!"
(Identation Identation Identation Identation)
The first stop Zelda and Marth made when they returned to the Temple District was the kitchen.
Seeing as Zelda had paid Marth's bail, he didn't really have any choice but to let her enter his territory. Just this once though. And no way was she allowed within a five metre radius of his coffee cabinet.
But upon entering the kitchen, Marth realized Zelda wouldn't need to go close to the cabinet to get any coffee.
Scattered all over the kitchen floor were Marth's coffee tins and boxes. Half were open, their contents littering the floor, the other half were on their way to being opened.
Marth was dumbfounded.
In the middle of the dark brown sand-like mess sat Roy, Link, Young Link and Pichu. Roy and Link were in the middle of tearing the covers off new tins. Pichu was starting up three coffee machines (Marth had more than three, but these were his best) which she had yanked off the counter and placed in a row on the floor, and Young Link was busy managing an armful of new mugs.
Zelda, observing the spectacle as well, discretely placed a hand over her mouth to keep Marth from noticing her snicker.
The knight continued to gawk at the four for a long, silent moment. Then Roy noticed him and, mid dumping one of Marth's special blends onto the floor, smiled and waved to him.
"Hey bro. What took you so long? We thought they might be keeping you there overnight."
"Hoped." Link corrected, sticked his finger in the coffee mix and then into his mouth. His next action was to gag and vigorously wipe his tongue with his sleeve.
Zelda had to completely cover her mouth now to stop the giggling.
Marth, however, was in no way amused. His gaze burned down on his unsuspecting brother, "What. Are. You. Doing."
Roy glanced up again, lifting an eyebrow, "There wasn't much to do, so we decided to do a survey on what type of coffee is the best, and since we all know you have the most different kinds of coffee..." Roy left the sentence unfinished, shrugged as he reached for a new tin.
Marth whacked it out of his brother's hands with his newly unsheathed sword. Roy gave him a questioning look.
"And what," Marth hissed, in a dangerously low voice, "Made you think this was a good idea?"
"Marth!" Young Link suddenly exclaimed, spotting his idol, and promptly dropping the armload of mugs, which landed with a crash on the floor, "You're back!"
All Marth had to do was send Young Link one, venomous look and the boy squeaked into silence.
"Roy." Marth said, pointing the tip of his sword at the red-haired knight, his voice extremely cold, "Get out. Now."
"But we haven't finished this batch..." Roy began, but was abruptly cut off by Marth's sword, which pressed against his throat.
"I said now."
In seconds, the kitchen was clear. Pichu was the last to leave, but when she got to the door, Marth's sword came out and tugged off her green backpack. Opening it, Marth extracted an imported, unopened tin of coffee and dropped the bag in front of the pokemon.
Whistling innocently, Pichu picked up her belonging and quickly left.
Zelda had covered her mouth with both hands by now, laughter shaking her body.
Marth gave her a withering look, "What?"
"N-nothing." Zelda replied, stuttering not out of fear but out of the effort to stop herself from laughing. Marth just rolled his eyes and turned to the mess that was his kitchen.
One of the coffee machines gave a slight bing, alerting those around that the coffee was done. Picking up the mug, Marth took a mindless sip while glancing around the room, trying to fathom how he'd ever get it cleaned, and why he'd ever had a brother.
A moment later he was bending over the sink, moist coffee mix trickling down his chin in his effort to spit out the contexts of his mouth.
"W-what's wrong?" Zelda asked, still battling desperately with herself.
"They didn't put any water in." Marth replied gruffly, still bending over the sink.
Finally, Zelda gave up and collapsed on the floor in an uproarious fit of laughter.
Marth did his best to ignore the obnoxious sounds Zelda was making. Instead, he glared ahead at nothing in particular, his mind elsewhere.
If Roy thought he would get away with this, he had another thing coming. Marth was determined now. One way or another, he would get his revenge.