"Wake up, dimwit," said Shadow the Hedgehog, in a manner that usually earns one a bar of soap in one's mouth.

Through his tightly shut eyes, Samurai Goroh could still see the lights being flicked on. He groaned and turned over in his bed. "Five more minutes," he murmured.

"Wake. Up."

There were footsteps, and then the horrid, sudden cold of his sheets being yanked up and away from him. He recoiled and snatched at the covers, flailing his limbs about. "Gwuh—gah! Give that back!"

"Get out of bed."

At last, Samurai Goroh surrendered. He sat up, fumbled around for his pince-nez glasses, and slapped them on his face. He glared at the hedgehog still holding his precious sheets. "What time is it?" asked Goroh.

"It's five in the morning," replied an unruffled Shadow. "If we're going to cook breakfast for roughly one hundred and eighty residents, we'd better start early."

Goroh's face fell. "H-how many?" he squeaked.

Shadow didn't answer. Instead, he tossed the man a small package. "What's this?" asked the racer.

"It's a hairnet. The health division requires all kitchen workers to wear one." Shadow turned to go, but stopped as he stood in the doorway. "Get dressed, and meet me in the kitchen in fifteen minutes. Don't be late." And with that, he shut the door with a heavy slam.

Samurai Goroh glanced out the window. The sun was only beginning to peek over the horizon, and some stars were still dotting the sky. "Seriously? At this hour?" He sullenly got out of bed and slipped on his vest and t-shirt combo. He stared at the hairnet Shadow had given him. "Pfft. I don't need this," he muttered, stashing it in his pocket.

After getting in a hot shower, brushing his teeth, and pouring a bowl of cereal marked with words he didn't recognize, he trudged out of his bedroom and into the hall.

It was very quiet in the halls of the Smash Mansion, an observation Samurai Goroh found to be more than a bit unsettling. Normally, the hallways would be alive with activity, with fighters chatting about their past matches, future hopes, or even swapping stories about their adventures in their home worlds. A common topic was which of the fighters was a fan favorite. Captain Falcon was often cited as a potential candidate for the single most popular fighter in the tournament. Many of the fighters and assistants alike admitted, begrudgingly or otherwise, that the F-Zero pilot's flashy and stylish maneuvers were a delight to witness. A true crowd pleaser, they called him.

Nothing infuriated Samurai Goroh more than seeing Captain Falcon in such an esteemed spotlight. His broad face contorted into a grimace as he stomped down the hall. That oughta be me up there, he thought to himself. Lousy, no-good, overblown, overrated, high-and-mighty, grandstanding braggart. First he steals my bounties, now he steals my glory! As if thrashing me on the racetrack wasn't enough for him…

For a fleeting moment, Samurai Goroh wondered how long it had been since he had last been on the racetrack.

Pushing those thoughts aside, he found himself standing at the entrance to the cafeteria. Off to the side, he noticed a small box labelled with the words "Suggestions Box—Feedback is much appreciated!" squiggled in marker next to a stack of white slips of paper. He pushed the kitchen doors open and walked inside.

"Thankfully, Chef Kawasaki left us with a menu and a cookbook," he heard Guile say. "…What's a Chansey omelette?"

"I suppose it's like an omelette, but involving the egg of a Chansey," came Lyn's voice. "You remember the pink creature on Saffron City?"

"Oh, that's Chansey?" said Guile. "I never even made the connection until—"

His words were cut off by Samurai Goroh's entrance. Both Guile and Lyn were wearing aprons and hairnets (Guile's flattop seemed like it was ready to break through at any moment), but only Guile saw fit to wear a cook's jacket underneath. Lyn simply chose to wear her regular blue tunic with her apron, and her sword remained at her hip. The moment Goroh stepped foot in the kitchen, Lyn's face hardened and her hand drifted towards her sword. Guile, who had been leaning against the wall, immediately stood up straight.

"You're here," said Lyn. Her voice was still and reticent.

Samurai Goroh swallowed. The man had a reputation for being somewhat thickheaded among his fellow assistants, but even he could pick up on the change in atmosphere."Yyyyyep," he mumbled, trying to sound as benign as possible.

Lyn still kept her eyes trained on the burly man. Guile nonchalantly stepped between them in an attempt to preempt any confrontation. "Okay, that should be all four of us," he said out loud, as if calling to someone out of sight.

On cue, Shadow stepped out from behind a rack of pans. He, too, was dressed in an apron, and his quills were neatly tied under his hairnet. It would've been an almost comical sight had he not looked so serious. He gave Samurai Goroh a quick once-over. "Where is your hairnet?" he asked.

Samurai Goroh sighed. "Look, I have a helmet, it's sorta like a hairnet. I don't need—"

"Put on the hairnet," said Shadow.

"My hair is clean!" protested Goroh. "It's not gonna—"

"Put on the hairnet," said Shadow.

"It's the same amount of protection—"

"Put it on."

"But—"

"Put. It. On." Shadow snapped his head up to glare at him.

Samurai Goroh paused. The hedgehog's crimson eyes were locked directly onto him now, daring him: put on the hairnet, or else.

Goroh hesitated, again. He really didn't want to get pulverized by Shadow; at least, not at this hour. At the very least, he didn't want to hear Shadow curse at him again—not for his sensibilities, no, but because it just felt weird hearing such language come from a three-foot-tall animal. At last, he took his helmet off, fished the hairnet out of his pocket, and stretched it over his hair. "Happy now?" he asked.

Shadow did not answer. He addressed the group standing in front of him. "I assume you've all read the menus Kawasaki left for us."

Lyn and Guile both nodded, while Samurai Goroh just looked confused. "M-menus? What menus?" he asked.

Goroh could almost feel the scowls directed his way from Lyn and Shadow. A pamphlet was thrown at his face from Lyn's direction. He peeled it off and began to read it.

Breakfast

Chansey Omelette

Bagel with Cream Cheese

French Toast

Pancakes (Buttermilk or Buckwheat)

Simple Breakfast Muffin

Eggs Benedict

English Muffin

Galarian Muffin

Breakfast Sausage

There was also a small selection of coffee and other such beverages.

"Guile, you're in charge of anything related to eggs. Start with the omelettes," began Shadow. "Lyn, you'll be on pancake duty. Start with the buckwheat. It's healthier." He glanced pointedly at Samurai Goroh before continuing. "I'll handle the breakfast sausages."

"And what does that leave me with?" asked Goroh irritably.

His response came in the form of packets of round flat breads tossed into his arms. "Go outside and put these on the shelves," responded Shadow. He turned on his heel and left for the meat freezer.

Samurai Goroh pouted as he marched out of the kitchen and into the cafeteria. Who did he think he was, sticking him with the trivial stuff? If anything, it should be him cracking eggs while Guile should be out here stacking English muffins! And what were "Galarian muffins", anyways?! They looked the exact same as English muffins! Was it because he thought he was a bad chef? Well, he couldn't be more wrong! He was great at cooking! He could make vegetable fried rice, chicken soup, and bacon that one time. And if he could cook those three, then making breakfast ought to be a cinch!

Goroh stomped back into the kitchen, slamming the door open. The noise caused Guile to look up from his pan. Lyn and Shadow shot him a dirty look.

"Alright, I put the muffins on the shelves," grouched Goroh. "What else do you need?"

Shadow glanced around the kitchen. "Go help Guile with the eggs." He turned rather brusquely back to his cutting board, chopping sausages.

Samurai Goroh sidled up to the blond man, who eyed him suspiciously, but otherwise made no comment. "So…" began Goroh. "Need any help? Anything?"

Guile made a gruff sound of acknowledgement. "Pass me those eggs," he grunted.

Goroh reached for a carton of eggs and handed a handful of them to Guile, who silently took them. He cracked them over a bowl and began to stir as Goroh watched. Once the whites were gone, Guile poured them into a pan coated with oil. The eggs sizzled as they spread over the pan.

"You gonna put any cheese on there?" asked Goroh.

Guile shook his head. "Don't need any," he said.

"What about garlic? People love it where I'm from."

Again, Guile shook his head. "Don't need that, either."

"What, you're just gonna make it plain?"

"Yup."

Goroh balked. "P-plain?! What, are you nuts?" He reached for a sprig of parsley. "Not even a little garnish?"

"It's breakfast, Goroh, not a fancy five-star dinner," retorted Guile. He flipped over the omelette. "If you want to help, go check on Lyn."

At mention of her name, Lyn glanced up from her pan of pancake batter and scowled at the portly man. Samurai Goroh hesitated. "Uhhh… you sure about that? Doesn't really look like she needs my help."

"Oh, don't worry, don't worry," said an only-slightly-attentive Guile. "You'll be fine. Work with her." Guile turned back to his omelette.

"Um…" Samurai Goroh padded over to Lyn's workstation. She paid him no regards, keeping her eyes laser-focused on the pancake.

Goroh simply stayed silent, letting his eyes wander around the kitchen. Guile had placed another omelette onto a plate, while Shadow was sprinkling black pepper onto a row of sausages. Looking outside the kitchen window, he could see a boy that looked to be about sixteen, with a purple and brown leather tunic and a sword sheathed on his back. The boy took a handful of Galarian muffins and placed them in the toaster.

Goroh turned back to Lyn. "So, Lyn, do you need any help, or…?"

Lyn eyed him with an unreadable expression for a moment, then turned back to the pancake. "I do not," she said curtly.

"…Okay." Goroh paused for a moment. "…You sure? 'Cause, uh, not to brag or anything, but in my line of work, I'm known for being quite handy around the kitchen."

Slowly, Lyn tilted the pan so as to let the pancake slide onto a plate. She stared at Goroh with a gaze hard enough to nearly make him wither. "Your line of work," she echoed, her words coming out laced with thinly-veiled venom. "Tell me, what exactly is it that you do to make a living?"

Goroh hesitated. Somehow, he had a feeling that he was making a big mistake. And yet, like several decisions he had made over the course of his life, he threw caution to the wind and continued down that merry path. "Well," he started, "I'm the chief of a group of intergalactic…" He paused again, seeing Lyn's increasingly scornful face. "…merchants, you see, and we travel from planet to planet looking for—"

"He's a bandit captain," interrupted Guile, not looking up from his own pan.

Lyn's hand—the one that was closest to her blade—twitched.

"Thanks, Guile," grumbled Goroh. "Okay, listen, I'm technically—"

Quick as a flash, Lyn's hand flew to her sword, which she unsheathed and pointed at Goroh. He yelped and leapt backwards, nearly falling on his rear.

Guile put down his pan and stepped between them. "No," came Shadow's voice. "Not now, Lyn."

"It's quite alright," replied Lyn in a frigid tone. Her eyes were trained on the cowering Goroh's. "A bandit, is it?"

"Not necessarily!" explained Goroh, attempting to inch away from Lyn's blade. "I mean, bandit is such an ugly word, we prefer the term 'thief', y'know, it provides a certain roguish charm…" He swallowed hard. "And, y'know, technically, it's only a side gig! Did I mention I'm a racer by trade?" He was beginning to regret not bringing along his own katana.

"I thought you were a bounty hunter," put in Guile.

"Yeah, yeah, that's it! A bounty hunter!" nodded Goroh. "I hunt down other thieves that are worse than me! The guys I boss around, we have a strict policy, 'steal but never kill', and we—"

He was cut off by Lyn's sword drawing ever closer. "I have heard quite enough," she said in a low voice. "I know better than to trust the supposed goodwill of bandits."

Goroh slowly got up, keeping a close eye on Lyn's sword. "Y'know, I'm starting to get the feeling that you guys don't like me."

"We don't," said Shadow, pouring sausages onto a plate and refusing to spare him a glance.

Goroh scowled. "Well, what's with her?" he asked, gesturing at Lyn. "What's she got against band—thieves?"

"That's really none of your business," said Lyn. She glanced over at Shadow. "Pardon me. I have work to do." And with those words, she abruptly turned back to her pan.

Sensing that the confrontation was over, Goroh turned crankily back to his station. "Sheesh! No one gets on Wario's back this much…"

"Now that's an unpleasant thought," joked Guile. He paused, checking to see if Lyn was watching them, and lowered his voice. "Bandits attacked her home. Slaughtered basically everyone she knew and loved. That's why she's so suspicious of bandits."

Goroh started. He opened his mouth, and promptly shut it again. "Yeah, but my gang is different! We at least have a sense of honor!" He chanced a glance at Lyn, who stood stony-faced over her pancakes. He quickly turned back around before she could glare up at him. "Fine. Whatever," he mumbled.

The rest of breakfast preparations mercifully passed without incident. It was just in time that they finished the last breakfast sausage, for most of the Smashers had begun filing in for the most important meal of the day.

"Man, I've got a busy day ahead of me," yawned Falco as he stretched and rubbed the back of his head. He peered down his beak at the plates laid out in neat rows. "Let's see what Kawasaki cooked up for us…"

"Fancy a buckwheat pancake?" asked Lyn, offering a plate.

Falco blinked a few times in response as he jerked his head up, clearly not expecting to hear Lyn's voice. "Whuh? Who're—" The avian paused as his eyes widened in recollection. "Oh, yeah, he's healing up for a while. Yeah, I'll have a pancake or two. Let's hope this is as good as what Kawasaki makes…"

And so, the four assistants served each and every Smasher as they filed into the cafeteria, supplying pancakes, omelettes, breakfast sausages, and other such foodstuffs to, as the Wii Fit Trainer would put it, start off their day right. Even the sudden arrival of King Dedede demanding sevenths was only a minor bump in the road, for Guile had prepared extra omelettes for just such an occasion.

Once the last of the fighters had left the cafeteria, Guile picked up the remaining food and began to load it onto tall wire tray trucks. "How much do we have left?" he asked.

Shadow examined the trays for a moment. "We have enough," he nodded. "Goroh. Bring this up to the other assistants. We're just about done here."

Grumbling, Samurai Goroh wheeled the trucks out of the kitchen and up towards the assistant lounge. As he walked, he spied Captain Falcon posing and "showing his moves", as he was wont to do, in front of a group of enthralled Miis, one of which was wearing a helmet identical to the racer's.

Goroh scowled as he watched the man show off. Blowhard, he thought to himself as he boarded the elevator.

By the time he reached the lounge, some of the other assistants were already awake and active. Dr. Wright, as always, was sitting at the table, studying important-looking documents. Baito was sipping from a mug of coffee labelled "No. 1. Coworker", both Callie and Marie seemed enthralled with their phones, and Dr. Wily was scribbling something down on a notepad, taking furtive glances every so often.

"Breakfast is served," said Samurai Goroh flatly as he pushed the door open. "Hope you like omelettes."

Both Squid Sisters glanced up from their phones, while Dr. Wily hurriedly put his notepad away. "Ah, yes, very good, Goroh," said Dr. Wright as he stood up. "I assume the others are tidying up in the kitchen?"

"Yeah, they are," replied Goroh as he flopped into a chair and took an omelette for himself. "But y'know, they're probably having a miserable time of it, too, since I'm not there to help!"

"Man, that was a great job down there! I can't believe we got done so quickly!"

Guile, Lyn, and Shadow walked into the lounge in high spirits, the former talking animatedly. "Shadow, I had my doubts at first, but you're a pretty good leader. The Air Force could use someone like you."

Shadow merely ran a hand through his quills. "Hmph… I'm not the Ultimate Life Form for nothing."

Lyn walked up to the table, pointedly gripping her sword as she passed Goroh. In her hands, she held the suggestion box from the cafeteria. "And we've received plenty of feedback from the fighters!" She opened the box, letting the slips of paper pour out. Dr. Wright picked one up and began to read it.

Those eggs Benedict were divine!

I dunno what they put on those breakfast sausages, but it was number one!

Buckwheat pancakes tasted almost as good as they looked

No complaints here. Pretty solid meal, all things considered.

Not bad, considering this is their first time filling in for Kawasaki.

My omelette didn't really have much flavor to it; could've used some garnish

"Told you," muttered Samurai Goroh.

Was Samurai Goroh in the kitchen? I didn't think he knew how to cook

"Wh—d'ohhh!" Goroh grouchily snatched the paper out of Dr. Wright's hand and crumpled it up.

"Well, at any rate," said Dr. Wright, "you four did a fine job. Well done."

"Yeah, you see that?" grinned Guile. "We make a pretty good team, am I right, Shadow?"

Shadow said nothing, for he had already left.

"Always a loner, that guy…" Guile shook his head. "Well, we make a pretty good team, am I right, Lyn?"

Lyn nodded. "Indeed. With Shadow's leadership and your talent in the kitchen, it was quite an easy task."

"Maybe," interrupted Goroh, "but if it weren't for my help, you wouldn't have finished nearly as quick!"

The room was silent. Lyn and Guile just gave him unimpressed stares. "At any rate," said Lyn, "I should probably be on my way. I've made plans with Phosphora and Midna. I suppose I'll see you around." She briskly got up and left the lounge, giving Goroh a pointed scowl as she did so.

Guile also got up, stretching his back. "Yeah, I should probably get going, too. Got plenty of training to catch up on. I'll be seeing you." He left, not even giving Goroh a passing glance as he passed through the doorway.

Samurai Goroh huffed. "Jeez! Like I'm no better than Waluigi! Am I really that unpopular around here?"

"Pretty much, yeah," said Marie, not taking her eyes off her phone.

"I like him!" chirped Baito.

"Oh, really?" asked Marie, turning to the rabbit. "Name one thing you like about him."

"Aw, that's an easy one! He… uh…" Baito paused, struggling to think of any positive qualities the man might have. "He… er… he's good with a katana! Yeah, the way he runs around and indiscriminately slashes everything in his path, it's… it's really neat!"

"Ha! See?" snapped Goroh. "I got one guy in my corner! Now I'm on par with Wally!"

Dr. Wright sighed as he tuned out Goroh's boasting. A quick check of his watch told him that it was now ten-thirty in the morning. He supposed that it wouldn't hurt to send out a reminder. Or perhaps was it too early to…? No, better to be two hours early than to be two minutes late. He took out his phone and began to tap out a message.

I think now would be a good time to start planning for lunch…

Author's Notes: The most important meal of the day, serving it up, Shadow's way! (pop!)

So far, so good. I wonder how lunch will fare?

This is mostly a set-up chapter, meant to lay down the groundwork for how future chapters in this arc will go down.