Before Matthew knew what was happening, he was whisked away by Ms. Jolene to the registration desk. He soon had a packet as thick as a copy of Pride and Prejudice and twice as confusing to read, made all the more intimidating by Ms. Jolene brusquely telling him to "sign here" and "initial there." He did manage to catch a glimpse of some of the fine print saying "...not be held responsible for accidental dismemberment or death..." "...sole property of the corporation..." and "...in effect for the length of three years from the date of signature..." which worried him considerably, but any attempt to bring it up earned him a dirty look from the assistant manager.

I don't think she likes me very much, he thought, which he had to admit was only natural. He did beat her security team after all. Not to mention he had been pestering her about looking at the Championship Belt, which to a busy person must have seemed like a childish joke designed to waste her time. It took a solid minute to work through the entire packet even at the brisk pace Ms. Jolene set - a solid minute of wrapping legal chains more and more securely around him - but at last the last print and signature of his name at the bottom was made and after asking the desk clerk to "kindly file this somewhere safe," she told him to follow her where she would show him the locker room.

It was a surprisingly long trip. Goombella's assertion that the Glitz Pit was originally a temple came to Matthew's mind as he looked down the long hallway lined with columns carved with patterns and images of various creatures locked in battle with each other. The hall had traffic at first, but as they got farther down there were fewer and fewer people crossing until finally they reached a shabby door covered in graffiti. Ms. Jolene opened the door and waved him impatiently inside.

"This is the Minor League Locker Room," she announced after shutting the door behind her. Matthew was surprised at how spacious it was - not huge, mind you, but it was large enough to accommodate two rows of lockers on either side of the room, several cots, and a wrestling ring in the back.

"This is where you'll be staying for the next few weeks," she told him. She spoke briskly as though reciting a to-do list. "We will call on you when we've matched you up with a competitor. In the meantime, you can use this room to rest or train before your next bout. We have a coach here who can help you with that." Without another word, she turned and marched toward the back of the room where a group of fighters were practicing in the ring. After a moment of staring, he realized what he was doing, shook his head, and hurried to catch up to austere Toad.

As though she hadn't noticed his lapse in attention, she turned to him and pointed her pencil to a golden-shelled Koopa next to her, "This is King K, your coach. He'll be the one to give you advice when fighting in the Glitz Pit."

The Koopa turned to her. "Hey, yo, Ms. Jolene. Maybe a word of warning before you go sneaking up behind me? The King's a bit paranoid, y'know?" He chuckled softly.

As though she hadn't heard, she turned to him and said, "King K., this is Matthew. He's been signed on as a fighter here, so he'll be your ward."

"This one?" said King K incredulously. He looked Matthew up and down and then rubbed the back of his head uncertainly. "I dunno. This little guy don't look much like fighter material. This place ain't exactly a playground."

"Mr. Grubba's orders," Ms. Jolene replied, turning back to her notepad. "And he seems to have... an aptitude for this."

Matthew grimaced as he suspected the dour manager wasn't using that word as a compliment.

"Any further questions can be directed to King K," she said with a scowl at Matthew as though he had done nothing but pester her with questions. "Good day and good luck." With that, she spun on her heels and marched briskly out of the locker room.

"Yikes," Matthew muttered. "I don't think she likes me very much."

King K. chuckled. "Nah, she don't mean nothing by that attitude. She's just uh..."

"Got a Fuzzy in her cap?" offered a green Bandit with a smirk as he sidled up to the Koopa.

King K. rubbed the back of his head uncomfortably. "Yo, man, no need to say it like that. She's just a little intense, is all." He shook his head and then grinned, "Well, hey now, you're a fighter, huh? Pleased to meetcha." He offered his hand to Matthew, who took it and instantly regretted it. "Name's King K. I made a name for myself here a few years back. Never made it to the Championship, but I did pretty well. Nowadays, I offer tips and advice to other aspiring champions. Why don't I introduce you to my bros here?" He waved his hand to the other fighters, who gathered in front of him for introductions. First up was a Bald Cleft named Cleftor whose assessment of Matthew was "puny boy no belong here." Next was a Bob-omb named Master Crash. His voice was surprisingly mellow for someone from an explosive family. "Don't get too worked up about getting to the top," was his advice to Matthew. "Take your time, develop your skills, and you'll get there eventually." Then came Bandy Andy, the green Bandit from earlier. "Nothing special about me," he said. "I'm just your standard run-of-the-mill troublemaker." He winked.

"And that's the gang," King K. concluded. "You might even say we're family. We have each other's backs, give moral support, all that jazz."

"Cleftor no need family," the Bald Cleft interjected. "Cleftor going all way up to top! Leave puny weakling family to cry in shame."

"Yeah, you keep saying that," Bandy Andy responded, "but you've been stuck in the twelfth division for a solid month now."

"What little bandit say?!" Cleftor snarled. "Me teach lesson with hyper charge attack move!"

King K. stepped between them. "Hey, hey, cool it, guys! Leave the fighting in the ring, eh? Come on, let's be cool."

Cleftor growled threateningly, making it seem he might attack anyway, but after a few seconds, he gave a huff and stomped toward the cots, muttering about "puny, little, wimpy babies." Bandy Andy shook his cowled head. "Sheesh! I wasn't trying to rile him up. That guy's got a hair-trigger temper."

"Yo, Bandy, you know Cleftor's sensitive about that," King K. reprimanded him.

"Right. Well, let me know when he makes it past those Mind Bogglers. Poor guy's really got his work cut out for him." He smirked and then turned and hurried toward the door.

"Yo, Bandy, where you going?" King K. called to him.

"That's for me to know and you to find out," Bandy called back and was out the door before any of them knew it had opened.

King K. rubbed the back of his head with a sigh. "Dude's got a few screws loose for sure. Said he came here to fight, but half the time he's gone to who-knows-where then shows up, causes some trouble and then disappears again. He keeps this up and he's gonna wind up in a real mess same as the others..."

"The others?" said Matthew curiously.

King K.'s expression became alarmed and he quickly shook his head. "Uh, never mind. Forget what I said. Point is if you need anything - tips, advice or even a shoulder to lean on - I've got your back and everyone else, too... most of us, at least."

"Uh sure," said Matthew a little awkwardly. "Thanks."

King K. beamed and clapped him on the back. "Right on! Now how about a bout? Y'know, so I can get a feel for your skills?"

And so Matthew began his training to compete in the Glitz Pit Fighting Championship. Despite what King K. had said about them being a family and having each other's backs, he was brutal in his training. He had Matthew spar with Master Crash first, who seemed fairly predictable in his attacks at first, scurrying forward and then leaping at him, which Matthew would sidestep and swing his hammer to send him bouncing back, but then the Bob-omb surprised him when he made to charge him again but then leaped to his right, opposite where he was holding his hammer, and then exploding, sending him flying onto the mat with a crash.

"Hey that's..." Matthew coughed. "That's cheating!"

"Nah, man, nothing in the rulebook against that," King K. informed him, sounding as though he was enjoying himself. "Come on, little buddy! You can take 'im!"

Matthew got to his feet and readied his hammer, eyeing Master Crash, who watched him innocently. Then he scurried toward Matthew again. Matthew shifted his stance uncertainly, wondering if he should try to brace himself against the blast that was surely coming. A second later, he was sliding on his back, adding a skid burn to his already cooked body.

King K. clapped and shouted encouragingly, "Good try! Good try! A low stance should help you stand against most fighters that try to take you down. Too bad that blast is just too powerful, eh? What else ya got?"

I think I need to attack first before he does, Matthew thought as he staggered to his feet again, hissing at the pain in his back. Surprise him. So when the Bob-omb charged at him again, he charged back, raising his hammer high and yelling a war cry. Then he was arcing through the air where he landed painfully on the floor just out of the bounds of the mat.

King K. groaned sympathetically. "You almost had 'im that time. But I do gotta respect your can-do, man. Real hardcore is what you are."

Hardcore, right. More like a hard head. How am I supposed to beat him? thought Matthew furiously in frustration as he wobbled to his feet. I can't even get within a foot of him! Then a thought occurred to him and a smile flickered briefly on his face before he hurriedly wiped it off. No guarantee it will work, he cautioned himself.

They faced off once more. Matthew dropped into a hunker, holding the hammer low on his right side. Master Crash watched him, betraying no thoughts behind that innocent expression of his. Then he scurried forward. Matthew immediately brought up his hammer, swung himself in a circle to build up momentum and then let the hammer fly. Confused by this tactic, Master Crash skidded to a halt.

Matthew missed. His hammer had flown too far to the right, missing the Bob-omb by inches. King K. burst into laughter that had him doubled over. Master Crash recovered from his surprise and charged after Matthew again. Realizing what was about to happen. Matthew dived to the side as the Bob-omb leaped at him and then exploded. The force rolled the boy onto his back. He immediately sat up and looked to Master Crash, who was just getting to his feet. Feeling reckless, Matthew lunged at him and grabbed him by his fuse.

"Hey!" Master Crash protested, showing some real emotion for the first time. Before he could explode, Matthew whirled him above his head and then flung him at the wall. The little Bob-omb crashed face first and then dropped to the floor where he spun lazily like a top, moaning pitifully.

King K. immediately stopped laughing and cried instead, "Whoa-ho-ho! Now that, you mad dog you, was some quick thinking. I don't think I've ever seen a fighter figure out that little ball of blastin's moves so quickly before. Color me impressed, man."

Matthew couldn't help but grin in response.

"Now why don't I pit you against Cleftor?" And before Matthew could protest, King K. whistled and called him over. Celftor was over there in a flash and he didn't stop. Matthew barely had time to dodge out of the way before the rock-solid rock cleft whooshed past him like an angry moon.

"Little boy fight like coward!" he growled as he spun on his heels.

"You fight like a dump truck!" Matthew retorted.

The insult surprised Cleftor at first. Then he roared and charged at Matthew. Matthew dived to the side toward the hammer he had dropped. He scrambled to his feet, hearing Cleftor's pattering feet coming for him again. He didn't have time to really wind up his hammer, so his swing was at half-strength. The result was so pathetic he wasn't sure if it would have been effective at full strength: Cleftor bulled through his swing with such force that the hammer was knocked out of his hand, and it stung. He hissed in pain, tucking his palm under his arm.

"Watch yourself!" King K. called out. "He's coming back!"

Still with his hand under his arm, Matthew spun around to face the incoming missile. Just before impact, he leaped into the air and spread his legs, allowing the rock cleft to pass right under him. Then he spun and jammed his foot between the little feet of the angry rock. The angry rock stumbled then fell on his face.

"AARG-mmph!" mumbled Cleftor. With his mouth full of mat, he couldn't express himself very eloquently though the furious kicking of his little feet spoke volumes of his frustration. Feeling pity for Cleftor, Matthew walked over and, with his foot, gave him a shove to roll him back onto his feet. He shoved a little too hard though and the rock ended up rolling off the mat.

King K.'s hands were loud as he clapped for Matthew. "Whoo! Righteous, man!" He strode over to Matthew and then clapped his back, which hurt quite a bit. "I can say without exaggeration that you've got the greatest potential I've ever had the privilege to witness! Those were some smooth moves, man! Smooth moves." He shook Matthew's shoulder genially.

"You mean you think I have a chance against Rawk Hawk?"

"Whoa, dude!" King K. took a step back and held his hands up in a cautionary gesture, "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. That dude's not someone you wanna mess with. He's racked up more KOs than a hospital with a breakout of laughing gas, some of whom have been messed up so badly they need canes with their wheelchairs."

"Oh," said Matthew soberly.

King K.'s hand moved back onto the young man's shoulder. "I'm just saying that with your talent, you might could make a name for yourself here... if you're careful. It's a pretty cutthroat business in the Glitz Pit and you wouldn't want to rise too quickly. Some bad stuff happens to good people here when they get too good too fast."

Matthew's throat tightened. "What sort of bad stuff?"

"Phew! Don't get me started! I had some good bros just up and disappear on me. Filipe the Flying Fuzzy, Fwoosher the Great Gust, Stanley the Nice Guy..."

"Prince Mush?" Master Crash offered, shuffling up to them silently.

"And Prince Mush!" King K. exclaimed. Then he fell silent for a moment before continuing in a softer voice, "Yeah, he was one of the great talents. Was really going places. He was just this little dude," he placed his hand somewhere below Matthew's waist, "a Toad from a little hick town with the craziest big dreams you'd ever heard of..." Despite the caustic remark, there was a twinkle in the coach's eyes.

"Everyone laughed at him, you know. Didn't think he would amount to much. 'You're just a little fungus,' they told him. 'Why don't you just crawl back to the countryside and do some photosynthesis like a good plant.'"

"And he would reply that he was technically a detritivore, not a plant," Master Crash chimed in.

King K. slapped his knee. "That one got me every time! Hoo!" He chuckled heartily. Once he calmed down, he continued, "He had spunk, for sure. Honestly, I didn't think he'd go far. But, hoo! That little scrapper was something else! He sure proved us wrong! Went rocketing up the leagues faster than an Amayzee Dayzee with low HP. Ten ranks in ten weeks! Was all set to challenge Rawk Hawk..."

The room fell into a somber silence. King K., Master Crash, and even Cleftor looked unnaturally grim. Matthew felt his heart skip a beat.

"What happened?"

The Bob-omb and rock cleft glanced at King K. and then gave each other uneasy looks. At last, Master Crash replied, "We don't talk about it."

"Why not? You're not actually saying..."

King K. cut in, "Yo, Matthew, no offense, but there are some things you don't share with a dude you just met. Let me just say if you don't want to end up like him, just be happy to be a low-ranking fighter. You can still get good money and a good following if that's your jam."

"But..."

King K. said loudly, "Well, guys, that's it for today! We've all given it our all today and now we should catch some Z's. Tomorrow's gonna be a good one for all of us, I can feel it! Cleftor, you're making good progress with the feints. Just keep at them and soon you'll be taking 'em all down. Master Crash, a little more aggression on your part. Don't hold back even if it's a Microgoomba..."

The three of them headed toward the lockers. Matthew watched them go, feeling somewhat bemused. So King K. didn't want him trying for the championship? Was he just worried about Matthew getting walloped by the higher ranking fighters?

Prince Mush was really going places, King K. had said. He was all set to challenge Rawk Hawk. Matthew wondered if Prince Mush had actually made it to Rawk Hawk. Maybe it was his imagination, but they made it sound like something worse than losing a match had happened to him. Something ominous...

Could there be a conspiracy to keep people from winning that belt? he wondered. From getting that Crystal Star? It occurred to him that Rawk Hawk would know about the power of the Crystal Star and would do anything to keep it for himself. So it wouldn't be a simple matter of working his way up the ranks to fight for the belt. He'd actually have to deal with someone who would do anything to keep it... even making people disappear...

"I'd better have a discussion with the gang," he said to himself. "This may be our toughest battle yet."

...

As it happened, he didn't get the chance to talk to his friends that night. He was suddenly hit with exhaustion like it was a ton of bricks and it was all he could do just to stagger onto a cot next to Cleftor, who threatened to body slam him if he snored. He was just about to drift off, pending a possible pummeling as he had no idea if he snored or not, when he felt a vibration in his pocket and a melodious tune. Princess Peach had just messaged him.

Guess it's about that time, he thought as he pulled himself back to consciousness and read the message:

Dear Matthew,

I do hope you're all right. You've dealt a crippling blow to the X-naut forces, so it seems you'll be getting a reprieve for now. Even so, I would advise you to remain cautious. I have heard a rumor that Sir Grodus has employed a special task force to stop you. I know I have said this before, but if you decide to abandon your efforts to rescue me, I will not think any less of you. You have shown true courage for coming this far, and I am grateful and humbled to have known you. I would also thank you for your messages, for they have given me comfort and courage in these trying time. You are very special to me, so once again, please, please, be careful.

Your friend, Princess Peach

Despite his exhaustion, Matthew smiled and began to type back, telling her where he was now and what he would have to do to get the next Crystal Star. When he finished, he turned his Mailbox SP off and rolled over in bed. Cleftor had already fallen asleep and he was, funnily enough, snoring.

I sure do hope he doesn't blame me if he wakes himself up, Matthew thought before he slipped into unconsciousness.