Day 2

Dreamland

Kirby was hungry. He wanted ice cream.

He thought about bananas, and cake, and pie, but ice cream seemed best.

He would stroll along down the street and see if Ribbon had some. If not, then it was the market for him. Kirby trotted to the door and pulled it open, marching out in a healthy stride.

And bumped face first into something.

Kirby stumbled back, shook himself, and took a look at the obstacle. It was a dinosaur, red skinned with big rounded eyes and a massive snout. He could see a saddle on its back, or maybe that was a shell. It wore brown shoes.

Its paw was outstretched. The dinosaur held a cookie.

"Hungry?" the dinosaur asked in a raspy voice.

Kirby stared at the cookie, then at his belly, then at the cookie again. His nose said chocolate chip. Yummy.

"Hyuh!" Kirby said, nodding.

The dinosaur's snout curved – it smiled. "Please, take it."

Kirby stared at the dino for a moment, then hastily grabbed the cookie. It hit his tongue and disappeared in seconds.

"Well, my friend," the dinosaur continued, "I have a proposition for you."

Eagleland

Ness sat on a park swing, his baseball bat dangling in hand. No one had wanted to play ball with him today.

He just rocked back and forth, staring off into the sun. What had mom always said? Oh yeah – don't stare into the sun, it's bad for your eyes.

"Silly mom," he muttered, "I'll just close them before they hurt too much."

Ness bobbed the bat up and down. It was a nice day out, perfect for playing a quick game. But everyone was off doing their own thing, so he came to the park alone – it wasn't bad, just thinking. It just got lonely sometimes.

"I wonder," Ness asked to no one, "if things would be better without adventures? Maybe it'll be nice to relax."

Maybe, but is that what you want?

Ness jumped up. Someone had spoken – but without speaking. "Who said that?"

Don't be alarmed, my young friend.

There was a voice, but he didn't hear it with his ears – it was in his head. A psychic, maybe?

You're wondering if I'm a PSI user, right? Ness thought he heard a chuckle. Not quite, but very close.

"Who are you? What do you want?" Ness said, anxiously.

Sorry, sorry, I forget sometimes I'm not always dealing with adults. Let me show myself.

The air shimmered just in front of Ness, and a figure appeared. He looked like a wooden doll, with stiff joints and intricate carvings in his limbs. He wore a yellow-collared blue robe, and a blue cap sat on his head. Yet there was something else... a little twinkle in his eyes.

"You're... made of wood?" Ness asked, not sure what to make of this.

The doll chuckled. "It's just the form I prefer to take. People recognize it, recognition here means comfort, so... it's easier for everyone if I just look like this."

"I'm sorry, what was your name?"

"Geno. Nice to meet you. Ness, is it?" the doll questioned.

Ness nodded, though part of him felt uncomfortable about doing it.

"Good, then I'm in the right place. So then, Ness, I ask again – is relaxation really something you want? Or do you want to hear my offer?"

Port Town

Captain Falcon lifted a panel along the side of his racing machine, the Blue Falcon. It had performed well in the X Cup, but something had felt off about the thrust. Maybe one of the engines was starting to die, he thought.

His hand reached inside the panel, grasping around at the wiring. If it was what he thought it was...

Yep – his hand touched something frayed. Falcon glanced inside, bringing up a flashlight and shining it into the dark innards of his machine. His vision glanced over some blinking lights, a handful of wires he'd replace in the future, and finally came to rest on the central attraction: a wire with its protective coating completely fried, leaving fibres sticking out.

Falcon frowned. If it had just been an exhaust issue, that'd be a small sum. But this was a very precise issue – it required deft hands, a keen eye, and more money than he'd prefer to spend.

"Damn," he muttered, closing up the panel. It would have to wait for another day.

Wiping off his hands with a work cloth, Falcon headed up the stairs from his garage. He made a prompt beeline for the living room, just to kick up his feet and rest for a while.

Unfortunately, his couch was occupied. By a five-foot ninja in blue-and-white garb, no less.

Falcon moved quickly and quietly, attempting to keep the intruder in his line of sight while he eased towards the doorway vase containing his backup pistol. He noticed the ninja's garment had a large red eye on its front, and it unsettled him for some reason.

Just as he reached the vase, a quiet voice spoke. "Don't bother."

Falcon stopped. "Why?"

"Because I took the liberty of unloading your gun," the ninja spoke, not even looking at Falcon but instead at the ceiling.

Falcon moved towards the couch, hands ever so slightly raised. "Okay, you've got me. Why are you in my house?"

The ninja chuckled, turning to look him in the eyes. They were so intense, the ninja's crimson red eyes. "I'm simply a messenger, here to pass along an invitation."

Then Falcon felt a letter pressed into his hands, and in a blink of an eye he was alone.

He stared down at the letter. Standard white envelope, but the red wax seal was unique. It almost looked like an open hand.