The NES Series:

Popeye

"Hold down the line, men!" the foreman shouted.

All across the deck of the ship, sailors of all shapes and sizes rushed about their duties through wind and rain and the constant rocking of the ocean waves. Among them, a very haggard-looking Villager and Olimar ran to secure a loose line of rigging.

"How did we get here again?" Olimar shouted over the roar of the ocean.

"You blew all of our money on that mahjong game," Villager shouted back, "so I had to get us jobs on this boat."

Olimar squinted at Villager as the two grabbed hold of the line and started to pull it down. "What, you couldn't find any more, I don't know, stable jobs?"

"Not really," Villager replied. "Plus, taking this job would help us gather data for the next game on our list."

"Oh, yeah? What game is that?"

"Popeye."

"Popeye!" Olimar dropped the rope, leaving Villager to be dragged forward several feet by the powerful line.

"Olimar," he said, straining to keep his balance. "A little help."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, hang on a minute. You said Popeye? Oh, geez. Look, kid, I understand that the Wii Fit Trainer is a very attractive young woman, but you've got to be paying enough attention to realize that Mario said Nintendo games. Not non-Nintendo cartoons from the sixties."

"No. I'm talking about the game. The one Nintendo released as an arcade game in nineteen eighty-two and later ported to the NES."

Olimar raised an eyebrow. "Are you saying there's actually a Nintendo Popeye game?"

"Yes," Villager said, desperately clinging to the rope. "Now can you give me a hand here?"

"Oh, right." Olimar wrapped his hands around the rope and resumed pulling once again. "So, if Nintendo made a Popeye game, does that mean Popeye is an option for Smash Five? Because I'm not gonna lie, that would be seriously cool."

"Not exactly," Villager replied. "Nintendo doesn't have the rights to him. They were only able to use his name and characters for a few games."

"Aw, bummer. Oh, well, I'm putting him down on the list anyway. We made Sonic happen. We can make Popeye happen too."

Working together, Villager and Olimar managed to tie down and secure the rope. While they were doing so, the clouds overhead parted and the rain started to died down.

"Okay," Olimar said, stretching his shoulders, "So, where is the big guy anyway?"

"Popeye?" Villager asked. "He's over at the helm." He pointed to the quarterdeck where a shorter man with large forearms, a strong chin, and a pipe was arguing with a massive, muscular man with a beard.

"Well, what do you know," Olimar said. "The other guy's Bluto, right?"

Villager nodded. "Or Brutus. The names are pretty interchangeable."

"I wonder if I could get their—"

Olimar stopped as his eyes wandered to a lone white can rolling across the deck nearby. He stooped and picked it up. "Is this . . . spinach?"

"Yeah, I think so," Villager said.

Olimar looked at the can, then up to Popeye and Bluto. Then back at the can. Then back to Popeye and Bluto. A mischievous grin spread across his face.

"Olimar," Villager said warily, "what are you thinking?"

Olimar looked up at Villager. "You take over here," he said. "There's something I've always wanted to try."

"I really don't think you should—," Villager tried as Olimar walked away, popping the lid off the can as he went. Villager gave up the attempt and hung his head. "We are so fired."