Here's the end of my little arc! There's no cliffhanger this time, I promise :)
Disclaimer: I own nothing (sadly).
P.S- OMG THIS CHAPTER'S OVER 2000 WORDS! NEW RECORD! :D
"Will this do?"
"It's perfect. Thanks!"
"So, what do you think Marth?"
"This…is brilliant. Who knew she could write this well?"
"Not me, that's for sure," Link said while laughing. "Zelda really has a gift. No wonder she's the princess of Hyrule!"
Marth folded the speech in half twice, and then tucked it into his coat pocket. "I suppose I should be off, then," he shrugged. "There's no reason to drag this out anymore now that I know what to say."
Link walked with his friend to the front doors. Outside, it was cool, but the sun was shining away vigilantly. The portal near the door glowed when they neared it. Marth suddenly became very nervous.
"You'll nail it," Link reassured him while giving him a push toward the portal. He ended up catching Marth off-balance, so the prince practically fell face-first into it. He was transported instantly to the office building where the president was, and he landed none too gracefully in the middle of the floor. Dusting himself off, Marth headed over to the elevator.
The entrance room where he had appeared was posh. The floor was solid black granite, and a blue velvet carpet ran from the front doors to the main desk. A bored-looking secretary sat in a chair behind it, and she barely batted an eyelash as Marth walked passed her.
When he reached the elevator and stepped inside, he was thrown back in shock. It was made entirely of glass. Standing as lightly as possible in the corner, with the railing along the side in a death grip, he pressed the button for the top floor.
The ascension was quick. The elevator dinged quietly and the doors slid open. Marth stepped into the hallway and had no trouble deciding which door to go through: there was only one, down at the end of the hall. He approached it, but didn't open it right away. Can I just open this? he thought. What if the president is in there, having a meeting? I'd feel like such an idiot…oh well. I don't really have a choice, except to pray that I don't screw everything up…
His prayer was answered. When he opened the door, he wasn't in the president's room, but in the antechamber where a mousey-looking secretary was sitting at a computer. Breathing a sigh of relief, Marth stepped up to her.
"Um…excuse me."
"Yes?" she said, turning around and looking at Marth as if to say Oh great, another lousy teenager come to complain about how Brawl isn't violent enough…gimme a break!
"May I speak with the president?" he asked as politely as possible. When she didn't respond immediately, he added, "It's important."
The secretary sighed exasperatedly. "I'll see what I can do." She stood up and went over to another door, across from the one Marth entered through. She opened it and stepped inside, leaving the Altean to feel very, very awkward. After what seemed like an hour, she came back out, sat down heavily in her chair, and said, "The president has agreed to see you."
Marth smiled with relief at her. "Thank you very much." When she nodded in response, he turned and went through the door into the president's office.
The president's office was surprisingly plain. The slate grey carpet was soft under Marth's shoes, and the desk was a simple oak one. One wall was completely taken up by a massive window, but it was covered by grey curtains. The president sat in a chair behind the desk, and on the desk sat a nameplate: Mr. L. LePhant.
When Marth looked up at Mr. L. LePhant, he did a double take. He was a very large man. His suit and tie looked rather uncomfortable; his lank brown hair was thick with product in an attempt to keep it in place, and his glasses kept sliding down his squashed nose. His cheeks were also a cherry red colour. He looked up at Marth with watery blue eyes and said, "Yes? What is it?"
The way he looked at Marth almost made the prince freeze up in fear, but then something inside him seemed to take over. He felt an overwhelming sense of power and confidence from within, and then he knew that he could do it. He took out the folded paper from inside his coat pocket, unfolded it, and began to read:
"My name is Marth Lowell, and I am here on behalf of all the residents of the Smash Mansion. Today, I would like to bring to your attention the long-term benefits of the third procedure initiated on Monday of this week: the curfew. While the curfew does maintain a firmer hold on the comings and goings of the residents, it does not, in fact, do this long term." Marth paused for effect, and thought to himself, Wow. Zelda really knew what she was doing. I'll have to thank her later. "For example, allow me to retell the events of Monday night. As you may have heard, the residents awoke the next morning to a colourful display of condiments on the cafeteria walls. While the exact perpetrators are not known," by you, Marth thought, "it is clear that it was done by a resident. However, I would like to point out that these perpetrators had been provoked. You may not be aware of this, but in our homelands, most of us do not have curfews. Therefore, when this new thing was introduced, it was only natural that some had decided to revolt. It could not have been avoided.
"Furthermore, the curfew will not become more effective with time. As days go on, more and more residents will refuse to comply with the procedure. Of course, not every time will damage be inflicted on the property, but nevertheless, the curfew will be disobeyed. As for the punishments, I believe that we are already punished on our own." When the president looked confused, Marth put down the paper and said, "Let me explain. When one stays up late and gets up early, one experiences a host of unpleasant things: headache, sore eyes, exhaustion, short tempter, et cetera." Then he smiled. "You must have experienced these yourself at some point, sir."
The president chuckled. "Indeed I have, Mr. Lowell."
Marth grinned inwardly at being addressed as Mr. Lowell. "Well, now that I have told you the disadvantages to the curfew," he spoke while picking up the paper, "I would like to offer you a solution. It is just a simple readjustment: get rid of the curfew, and take the punishment of being sent home and apply it to a different rule: if any damage is inflicted on the property, that resident will be sent home for an indefinite amount of time." Marth watched the president's face carefully for any change of expression. He could have sworn he saw his head tilt slightly to the side, as if listening more closely. "I and my fellow residents believe that if the curfew procedure would change to my suggested one, it would go over in a much better fashion and residents would be less likely to disobey it." Marth shuffled his papers, folded them back up, and placed them in his coat pocket. "With that, I thank you for taking the time to listen to me, and I sincerely hope you will consider my suggestion," he finished.
He waited an incredibly long time while Mr. LePhant sat in silence, finger tapping his chin. Then, "I give you permission to leave now, Mr. Lowell." Marth nodded toward him, and sighed silently in relief as he walked out the door into the antechamber. The last thing he heard as he stepped out into the hall was, "Secretary, I need you to type something up for me..."
When Marth arrived back at the Smash Mansion, he found Link, Ike, and Zelda waiting anxiously to see how it had gone. He had barely stepped out of the portal when Link assaulted him with questions.
"How'd it go? Did he like it? Was he scary? Is he going to get rid of the curfew now? Well?" The excited elfish Hylian fired out.
Ike smacked the blond boy across the head. "Calm down already, he just got back." Link shot the warrior a dirty look, but remained quiet.
Marth looked at all of them and said, "It went well. Zelda, you are an amazing writer." The princess blushed at his praise. Link shot the azure-haired Altean his second dirty look of the day. Marth ignored it. "Anyway, I think the president...er, Mr. LePhant, is really going to consider our appeal!" His little audience cheered at this. "We won't know the outcome for awhile, though," he said, a little sadly, "tomorrow at the earliest."
Everyone sighed, but there was nothing they could do. The foursome went back inside the Mansion.
The next day, Ike was awoken in not the most pleasing way. There was an extremely annoying knocking sound at his door, which was getting louder and more annoying by the second. Groaning, he swung out of bed and staggered over to the door, rubbing his sleep-deprived eyes.
"Ike! Ike! Ike! It worked! It worked! Come see the bulletin board!" Marth and Link cried in unison the second Ike opened the door. "Now!" When Ike didn't react instantly, they each grabbed one of his hands and dragged him out the door.
The bulletin board was surrounded by a little crowd, all eagerly clawing at the people in front so those that were behind could get a good look. Lucky for Ike, he could just loom over everyone's head. He read the bright yellow notice tacked up over the white one from earlier that week.
Residents of the Smash Mansion
After careful reconsideration of the procedures put in place on Monday of this last week, it has been decided that all three are now void. The curfew will no longer be enforced, and new janitors have been hired that will repair the wall of the recreation room.
Regards,
The President
When he finished reading, Ike was grinning like a madman. He turned around and went to high-five Marth. Unfortunately, the prince wasn't ready and got smacked in the face, causing Link to erupt into hysterics.
"Hahaha!" he laughed, "he just high-fived your face!" He then fell over and rolled around on the floor, unable to breathe.
Meanwhile, aside from being high-fived in the face, Marth was very pleased with himself. He was thrilled that his appeal had gone over so well. Overall, he was satisfied.
"Hey everybody, listen up!" Pit cried from the cafeteria doorway, "The chefs are making pancakes in honour of our victory!"
"Yes!" Ike said gleefully. "Put some aside for me, will you?"
Pit gave him a thumbs up. "Sure!" He hopped back into the kitchen to give the chefs the request, and the others all filed in to the cafeteria and sat down.
The room smelled heavenly. When all the pancakes were brought out, nearly everyone in the room was drooling. Kirby's eyes were huge and his massive mouth was open, eagerly awaiting the moment when it would be allowed to inhale every pancake in existence. Ike's expression was frighteningly similar.
"Okay," said the head chef as the last plate of pancakes was set down, "everybody eat!"
It was chaos. The fight to get a plate of pancakes was hard enough; the Battle for the Syrup ended with many sticky people, a sticky table, and a large sticky patch on the floor. Kirby, having already consumed his own serving, including the plate, was now helping himself to everyone's leftovers. Ike was also enjoying himself, his pancake slices dripping with sweet syrup.
Half an hour later, every smasher was full to the brim of fluffy pancakes and sugary syrup. One by one, they dragged themselves out and to their rooms, where they flopped down in contentment. Celebratory pancakes always tasted the best, especially if one was to ask Ike. All in all, it had been an eventful week, and all would agree that there was no better way to end it off than how they did.
I feel an urge to go eat pancakes now... O.O
Well, it's all over now, and I'm glad. Now I can do some more requests! Next chapter will be...I'm not sure. What you can count on is more smasher hilarity, and Link might end up in a bad situation. Why? Because I like to torture him, that's why. I'm very partial to Link, though...meh, he's too fun to torture XD
Don't forget to review please! Your comments are always appreciated!