Ike: I am doing the disclaimer this time round because the author is currently buried under a pile of books and paper.
Link: Hurry up! Get on with the story!
Ike: I'm working on it, don't get your hat in a knot. Anyway, the author does not own me, or any of the other characters in Super Smash Brothers Brawl. She just likes to write about them.
The Smash Mansion was incredibly quiet at midnight. All of the lights were off and it was pitch black, except for the occasional flashlight beam from the directors patrolling the halls. Most directors weren't paying much attention anymore by that point; it was just too quiet. All the doors were shut, every light was off, and every smasher was in his or her room. Or, so they thought.
Link made a mental note to himself that trashcans are the number one worst place to hide while one is planning how to screw the curfew. Suddenly, his phone buzzed in his hand. He flipped it open and it revealed a text from Marth, who was behind a door a few feet away from him. Director just rounded corner. Coast is clear. P.S- Watch out for banana peel right beside your can. -ML
Unfortunately for Link, he did not read the last part of that message. Even more unfortunately, he stepped on the banana peel. Screaming soundlessly, he managed not to land overly loudly. When he looked up, he could just barely make out Marth's form in the darkness shaking with hysterics. Link decided he would have to brutally murder the prince later.
Once Marth was back under control, the pair slipped farther down the hall, in the direction of the trashcan in which Pit had concealed himself. When they got close to it, they ducked down beside it and Link sent the angel a text. A minute later, the lid of the trashcan rose hesitantly and out popped Pit. The Altean, the angel, and the Hylian went a few feet farther and Marth almost walked straight into Ike, who had sensed their presence and was coming to meet them. Marth made a high-pitched squeak and instantly clapped his hand over his mouth. Everyone else had to fight to keep the snickering under control. When Link started gesturing for them to keep moving, they all complied.
They crept slowly along the walls as they neared their final destination. Suddenly, as Ike peered around a corner, he ducked back and dove sharply into the nearest hiding place: the janitor's closet. The door to the closet was never locked; it seemed the janitors were lazier than everyone thought. The others followed the warrior into the closet.
From between the tendrils of a mop head, Link saw through a crack in the door the beam of one of the directors' flashlights. It seemed to him that the beam lingered a fraction of a second too long on the closet door. Once the light had disappeared, the group waited in absolute silence for another minute to be certain that there was little chance of getting caught. Then, one by one, they slipped out and back down the hall.
Within a minute, they were standing in front of the prize: the cafeteria. Ike, Marth, and Link smiled triumphantly while Pit fist-pumped the air and hopped giddily back and forth. From his pajama pocket, Link produced a master key (Ike made a mental note to ask him about that later) and opened the door.
The cafeteria was pitch black. Marth pulled out a small flashlight and, once the door was shut, turned it on. Following the pale beam, the four fugitives crept across the room to the kitchen door. Link once again used the master key, and in they went.
Once inside, Link decided it was time to explain his plan.
"Okay," he began, hopping up onto the edge of the counter, "here's what we're going to do." He reached behind his head, opened the cupboard, and pulled out one of the old-fashioned ketchup bottles from the fifties. "We're going to take these suckers, and the mustard ones too, and use them to decorate the wall!" For emphasis, he took aim and squirted a big red splotch on the door. Then, he reached back into the cupboard and tossed several bottles of assorted condiments to the other boys. When they were all armed, Link slid off the counter and led the way out the door.
As one can imagine, the directors were thoroughly shocked and horrified by the state the cafeteria was in when they entered the next morning. Strange designs in red ketchup, yellow mustard, green relish, and pale mayonnaise covered every visible surface, including the ceiling. Mr. Cameron walked up to a mustard flower and ran his finger through one of the petals. It came away clean; the condiment had dried.
"At least it'll be easier to clean since it's dry," one of the younger directors stated.
"It doesn't really matter, Evan," Mr. Cameron said to the director, "since we won't be the ones cleaning it. The perpetrators will."
Evan was a bit confused by this. "But we don't even know who the perpetrators are!"
"No," Mr. Cameron admitted, "but that's why all of the residents will have to clean it. It's too big a room for two or three people to clean by themselves, anyway."
"Point taken."
Mr. Cameron nodded. "Then I guess it's time to notify the residents." He pointed to another director. "James, go ring the bell and get everyone in here."
James nodded quickly and ran off. A few minutes later, the bell began to ring. Several minutes after that, sleep-deprived smashers trickled into the room in twos and threes, and noticed the colourful display on the walls. Some were impressed; most were disappointed in the behaviour of their comrades. When they were all there, Mr. Cameron passed around towels and buckets of hot, soapy water.
"Every one of you is to clean off these walls before you are allowed to leave this room again."
Normally, this would have caused quite the uproar, but the brawlers were too tired. They did complain vehemently under their breath, however, while scrubbing ketchup faces and mayo stars off the walls and ceiling.
Link, Ike, Marth, and Pit gathered in one of the corners. While scrubbing off the relish butterflies that had been splattered there, they devised phase two of their plan.
"Now that we've demonstrated how the curfew is futile," Ike started, "we need to present the evidence to the president."
Link pointed at Marth with his soapy cloth, and the Altean had to recoil quickly to avoid getting suds in his face. "He's a prince," Link said. "He's used to political stuff."
Marth raised an eyebrow. "Yeah? What's your point?"
"My point is you should be the one to 'present the evidence' or whatever."
Marth straightened up and took on a very regal look. "I am honoured by your request, noble elf."
Link's blue eyes narrowed sharply. "Not an elf."
Marth laughed. "Sure you're not." He was then slapped in the face by a soapy cloth.
Ike decided to bring the conversation back to topic. "Anyway," he said while Marth wiped soap off his face, "I think Marth doing the talking is a great idea. We just need to figure out what exactly he's going to say."
Link smiled. "I know just the person to help us with that."
And again with the cliffhanger! Next chapter will hopefully end this off and then I can do some other requests and stuff. Don't forget to review please!