Origins King K. Rool Kai
The Krem-Marine. A monolithic, self-sustaining submarine whose initial design was lifted off of the Kongs, who'd received it as a gift from some faraway place called Corneria, had been home ever since the Blast O-Matic plan went belly up. With Crocodile Isle serving as debris at the bottom of the Rare Archipelago and exiled from The Northern Kremisphere, their true home on Kong Island, it was all they had left. But while it was home to some, to King K. Rool, the chief of the Kremlings, it represented 17 years undersea. 17 years of embarrassment
No, he didn't count the Kellsworth's half-witted plans. The diplomatic albeit nerdy new commander of his Kopter brigade had talked him into a lot. Crown yourself King of the Jungle Jam to draw The Kongs out into a final battle he'd said. Crystal Bananas are the way to go! Go the Bowser way, play a sport, be his friend!
All that had ever earned him was mocking laughter at best, cold exile at worst.
King K. Rool remembered when all that tension came to a head. Kellsworth had the audacity to suggest another plan, something about a party, and King K. Rool had decked him in the stomach. The flop to the floor had lead to the retching of his entire core, organs at all.
When Kellsworth gasped his dying breath, to the horror of the 200 or so Kremlings onboard The Krem-Marine, King K. Rool felt confidence and most of all joy.
That was in the 7th year of the Kremling Empire's restructuring. In the years afterward, he began setting up a spy network, keeping him up to date on the political ska above.
Year 14…
King K. Rool licked the scales nearest his maw whenever he thought about it. The day that he got the news that The Smash Core was no longer in the possession of the Smashers, but somewhere waiting to be nabbed.
From then on, that was the Kremlings' mission. Acquire it, or ally with whoever had it. If that didn't crush the Kongs, nothing will!
The pilots of the Krem-Marine had become as familiar with the world's ocean floor as they were with their reflections in the mirror. The Great Sea, Gabun Ocean, Getaway Bay, all had been searched high and low.
It was only a month ago, that the king was informed he had been searching for something that was right under his impressive snout.
An old lead had resurfaced out of nowhere. Kalypso, the lone Kremling spy operating in the Red Squirrel Kingdom had resurfaced, having disappeared right around the time the Core went AWOL. When she unearthed the thesis of her report, that The Red Squirrel Kingdom had possession of the omnipotent ball, King K. Rool had misinterpreted it as a joke, laughing heartily When Kalypso, hadn't laughed back, it became worrying for a heartbeat. Then cool as a cucumber, Kalypso had flounced on, making note of the near silence on the political spectrum of the landlubbers, except for some alliance talks between the Red Squirrel Kingdom and the third-rate Snowmad tribe. The king had sighed, at least he wasn't alone in this mixture of non-belief, ignorance, and shock. If he weren't, Mario and Luigi would've been schmoozing at The Panther King's former castle faster than a Kremling could identify the 11th letter of the alphabet. Just as she had lured her king into security, Kalypso muttered something about developing plans to reawaken the Tiki Tak Tribe with an unwavering nonchalance.
That worried K. Rool. It wasn't the first time some dictator had messed with the many, many holy spirits that occupied their world. Bowser had done it a million times. That was Bowser, someone who had experience and resources to repair things should they go awry. If one brush with the Banana Bird had bankrupted The Kremlings' relationship with dry land, he shuddered to think what a relative nave like Conker would do with such power. In his new cold sweat addled stupor, King K. Rool had hastily demanded an explanation for her absence. Kalypso had spoken in a forboding, deathly tone before she cut off communication.
"You'll be hearing from the king,"
And then a week later, they got the summons. A slurred jovial invitation to "peep the real estate brah" No mention was made of Kalypso standing beside Conker, looking sheepish. She'd been found out or outright betrayed him, reasoned the Kremling Commander, how else would he have known to contact them, or how-to for that matter? The drunkard king didn't seem to care.
King K. Rool had to admit, he accepted the summons out of sheer curiosity. When The Panther King was dethroned, all intelligence said the leader of the coup, Conker's only future legacy would be drowning himself in drugs and drink, and quickly. That's why he'd sent Kalypso, his most conventionally attractive Kremling, to butter up the new king, playing the part of a refugee of the dead Kremling Tribe. It wasn't long before Kalypso became one of Conker's preferred concubines. Her experience had lined up with the intelligence they had. Conker wouldn't speak of it, but "something had happened" in the coup, and as a result, the women and drink came to be a centerpiece of the Red Squirrel's court. Then, The Smash Core entered the field, and Kalypso had dropped until now.
All these pieces together were an emergency, one that dictated an in-person meeting to get to the bottom of.
Thus began three weeks of conversation with Krunch, King K. Rool's most experienced spy. Or, rather, much to the King's belabored admittance, having practically the same conversation every day for a week. Despite having in-person intel on Conker due to their shared involvement in the Tiger Island scandal that involved the battle with Wizpig, it had been relatively early in Conker's career as an adventurer, long before even The Panther King was on anyone's radars. Though his information was irrelevant, the king had demanded his spy review the intel with him over and over again, in the hopes that there was something, anything they could use. But it was moot, and before long, they stood on the dock of the Red Squirrel Kingdom with six of the roughest men in the tribe, as informationally naked as the day they were born. They'd been prepped for an eclectic mix of beings, demographical information borrowed from all the libraries in every kingdom at least had that to offer, but he hadn't expected a bug-eyed turtle to be the one to meet their entourage.
"Tip Tup? You're the new ambassador?"
The turtle eagerly nodded, "Yeah! We got us a home here right before your Blast-o-Matic shenanigans, which was good, considering the crazy stuff that happened to the Isle o' Hags. . Me, my wife an' kids, the choir, heck everybody from the Tiger Island days is here Krunch. You should join us," Tiptup chirped happily, the last part sounding so threatening it made King K. Rool's scales crawl.
"Perhaps, but… I and my associates are here to meet with King Conker." Krunch slowly reminded the starry-eyed ambassador.
This seemed to resonate with the buffoon, as his eyes grew wide, "Oh, of course! Right, this way!"
And through an overgrown brush, they walked through the door of Conker's castle. The foyer, designed much like the central hub of Peach's Castile, was adorned with pictures of the Panther King, his face either 'x'ed out or drawn on with a squiggly mustached, depending on what juvenile vandalizations on which portrait caught your eye first.
"These paintings…" Krunch barked just loud enough to block out King K. Rool's annoyed huff.
"Are great conversation pieces!" finished Tiptup.
Skipping merrily to the middle door on the upper floor, the reluctant reptilians followed behind. This part of the castle was dimly lit with torchlight, contrasting the open concept of the foyer, no doubt a holdover from the Panther King's interior decorator. The illumination was strategically placed to beholden suggestive pictures of a buxom female white squirrel, some of the poses she was in not unlike the ones seen on the magazines the Kremling assigned to Metro City had returned with.
"How recent are these pictures?" asked an inquisitive Krunch.
Tiptup froze up in an exaggerated way, everything snapping to as rigid as it could possibly be. "Erm…recent!" squeaked their guide, not even turning to look at them.
Krunch shuffled backward to walk alongside King. K. Rool. The leather vested spy began to whisper intel to His Majesty, the first of which that the woman in the paintings, Berri, had died two during the coup of The Panther King.
Kalypso's vague descriptor of "something happened," danced through King K. Rool's mind.
King K. Rool was hit with two emotions, first, annoyance that Kalypso hadn't bothered to deduce that, and creeping dread. Now that the dark and dim castle was framed by the promiscuity of a dead woman, it basked the castle in an even more sinister light than before. Krunch's stream of information faded out and the scene played out around him crystal clear. Sentient brooms, paint cans, and bees hurried around the castle, and not a single one looked like they'd slept in days, flakes of rust, broom straw, and rusted metal spiraling into the wind as their frail bodies hustled about.
There's a difference between beings of superior stock being pushed, and people not equipped for it. This is the latter, which is embarrassing and disturbing considering the power he wields, King K. Rool noted.
The sound of large doors squeaking open brought everyone to attention. Tiptup had opened the doors to the throne room. The Kremling King couldn't believe what stood before him. Conker sat in a throne much too large for him, wearing a dirty powder blue jacket, its silver zipper down the middle frayed to oblivion a once golden crown in similar distress. Splayed across his lap was the aforementioned Berri. Kneeling before the King and Queen were Kallisto, and standing at the side of the throne were Wizpig, and most concerningly, Gruntilda, in her old, snot green-skinned body.
"What is this?" balked King K. Rool, a cold chill suddenly radiating up his spine.
Not even looking up from the creepy, leering eye contact he had on Berri as he fondled her, Conker mused, "If you had…four years 'o free time, with unlimited power, what would you do?"
King K. Rool opened his mouth to answer, but Conker's steely gaze snapped to him, "Wanna know what I did?" hissed Conker.
Conker slowly raised a hand, and before his Kremling guests could even blink, a black-skinned alien with a capsule-shaped had gnarly teeth, and a razor-sharp tail appeared. Four of his entourage either served up their heads for the monster's snack or were impaled in a nanosecond. A fifth managed to fire his weapon, a musket, but the ball of gunpowder and steel bounced harmlessly off the creature, meeting a gruesome death by impaling as well. Krunch leaped forward, spreading out the arms of the humanoid, leaving its chest exposed.
"K. Riptid, now!" ordered Krunch.
The soul Kremling bodyguard dropped his musket, balling his hands together, and thrusting outward a ball of fire. Krunch leaped away from the creature just as the flame engulfed it. Conker stood, mouth agape. He was so distracted by his plan, quite literally, going up in flames, that he didn't notice Kalisto had stood up, claws extended, ready to slash at Conker's neck. A scream from Berri caused Conker to reflexively raise his hand again. The scene rewound right before King K. Rool's eyes, resetting to before the alien appeared.
"Did I ever tell ya about the programmer?" Conker mused.
"No," growled King K. Rool.
"It was.. holy Jiggywiggy about 20 years ago now. I was faced down with a monsta like the one you saw before ya. Then everything froze up, and some power beyond the stars literally gave me a weapons cache to deal with it. Why did God reach out to me in that moment, I'll never know, but I let him walk away from me 'fore I let him revive my woman. 15 years I lived with that guilt. Then, this, just popped into existence ovah night."
Conker snapped his clawed fingers, and from a side entrance, a badger wearing airplane goggles appeared carrying a ball on a silver platter that seemed to be glowing every color of the rainbow at once.
"The Smash Core," breathed King K. Rool.
Conker hiccuped in agreement, "Yessiree! Hey, wasn't The Kremlins the dominant species in that Rare place before Cranky Kong made his deal with the Banana whatever?"
Resisting the nuclear urge to nurse the headache that the squirrel's symphony of slurs had brought on, King K. Rool growled, "Yes,"
"That's great man, cuz we can reset time to just before then, and drown that baboon in the ocean! We can reset to a reality where The Smithys, beat the mustache idiot and his friends! We can…"
"I'm not interested, and I intend to report this information to the Super Smash Brothers."
Krunch snapped his gaze back to his king, mouth agape.
Conker laughed, "Good. Do it. I want a war. I could just delete you from existence, but I want to stand overall you do gooders' broken spirits before I do. Bein' a hero got me, what, a bunch of mediocre action? Speakin' o' which homeboy, take yer woman with you."
Conker snapped a clawed finger and Kalypso was among the entourage. King K. Rool looked at his crew, the toughest men in his army and the loveliest of his women. His bodyguard's clothes were soaked in sweat, eyes transfixed on something a thousand yards away. Kalypso didn't look much better, shaking like a leaf.
"Do not dance this dance, you must join us to stand a chance!" cackled Gruntilda, much to the amusement of Wizpig.
King K. Rool waved a hand dismissively, "Sure, whatever. I look forward to skinning as fashionable drapery for my castle Red Squirrel," he hissed.
"Sure ole pal! Any time!" hiccupped the squirrel.
The Kremling contingent turned to leave. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the goggles wearing mole kneel down to whisper something to Conker, his fur soaked with sweat.
"I'm surprised the Spirit Project is goin' as well as it is! Tell ole Mister Wesker he can have the night off if he even takes 'em!"
King K. Rool growled just as the party marched out of earshot. They were meant to hear that. Idiot/
Aboard the Krem-Marine
As soon as the door closed, King K. Rool whipped around, grabbing Kalypso by the throat, pinning her against the wall, "You have one chance to redeem yourself,"
"I…I was his main squeeze before he brought Berri Back three years ago like I said," she wheezed, " Then he…got the Core…and brought her back. Then he started getting all clairvoyant, talkin about the universe and shit. Figured droppin' out and playing dumb would be…"
In that instant, K. Rool understood. Let the despot drive himself into a paranoid mania, rather than confirm his suspicion. In the instant let go, it was like a long, hard, glance into a mirror.
"Uh..you alright boss?" asked Krunch as the Kremling bodyguards tended to a Kalypso.
"Paranoia," King K. Rool snarled, rubbing his maw in thought, "That's what got us here, my paranoia. I will not subject my subjects to that ever again. Send word doing to Kapellmeister to chart a course for Kong Island."
"You were serious about that? I could've sworn you were bluffing!" Krunch shouted.
King K. Rool shrugged, "I had already made my decision when Conker simulated killing my men. The only one worthy to decide if a Kremling lives or dies is me. If he would've actually used The Smash Core to kill us, so be it, better to die than to live with his insolence."
Krunch gave a suave, understanding nod, marching off to deliver the king's order.
Donkey Kong's treehouse, Kong Island
"Bye-bye, King Bowser!"
"Can't let you do that Star Fox!"
"I will rule Hyrule!"
"Come forth and fight me with honor Kirby!"
"All of these fights, and more on the next Super Smash Brothers tournament!"
Click
Giving a giant yawn, Donkey Kong turned off the TV. The Smash tournament commercial had been running constantly, and despite his personal connection to it, it was getting as annoying as any other ad. The big ape stretched out, scratching his behind in boredom. In another corner of the room, his nephew, Diddy Kong, was splayed across a tire swing.
"Any word on that by the way?" asked the chimpanzee, annoyed.
"Other than Mario sayin' all the stuff still worked a few weeks back, no."
"I mean, he must've started recruitment on some level, if Wolf was in the commercial."
"All you have to do to get that scumlord on your team is say he has the chance to beat up Fox, it isn't hard. Beyond that, I can't even imagine how hard that stuff must…"
Something shook the entire island with such force that both Kongs were sent into the air.
"Crap crap crap!" squealed Diddy, scrambling off the tire swing, "Of all days for Cranky to send Sqawks and the others on a scouting mission to the Northern Kremisphere!"
DK held a finger to his lips, bounding towards the treehouse window, Diddy following his lead. Both peering outside, what they saw horrified them. Marching off through the coast off of a giant submarine appeared to be the entire Kremling Krew!"
"Kongs!" a familiar voice roared, "Take control of the limited ability you have to comprehend what I am about to say! I wish for amnesty, for I know the location of the Smash Core!"
Donkey and Diddy descended out of the treehouse, bounding towards the Kremling Hoard. As soon as the duo had bounded through the trees into the clearing, making eye contact with their reptilian enemy, the two struck defensive stances on instinct but lowered them.
"Who has it?" snarled Donkey Kong.
"Conker the Squirrel," King K. Rool responded.
Donkey Kong raised an eyebrow. Usually what came out of the king's mouth was either silver-tongued half-truths or insane blathering, nothing in between. The leader of the Kongs heard resignation, maybe fear? Either way, he decided, King K. Rool was telling the truth.
"And you're requesting amnesty?"
"Because I was summoned, informed of Conker's plan to start an army, and turned a position in it down."
"If he's planning to start an army, why not cripple The Smash Brothers outright and destroy the Smash Core?" Diddy asked, taking off his hat briefly to scratch his head.
"Because he wants a fight. That kind of arrogance will only lead to doom. I have a second chance to save my people, I will not squander it."
Donkey Kong growled, before speaking, "Fine. I'll make the call. Master Hand wanted to have you on the roster for a long time, and we can definitely get the Kremlings in one of the Smash City buildings right away."
King K. Rool put up a finger, "At all times, I shall be accompanied by two bodyguards. Furthermore, my spy Kalypso will be staying behind to offer her intelligence before my people depart for their lodgings."
"Sure, whatever," Donkey Kong huffed.
Silently, DK beckoned Diddy back to the treehouse. As their walk back through the brush began, Donkey got a good look at Diddy's face for the first time since the encounter. The little guy's eyes were wide in abject horror, his fur matted with sweat.
"You can't be…" Diddy whispered, his throat hoarse.
"Mario'd kill me if I gave up a Smash Core lead like this, even if it does come from him."
Diddy nodded, although he didn't look assuaged. Donkey Kong nodded back as they headed further through the jungle to the treehouse.
Back at the Treehouse
Dialing the emergency number on the Smash wrist communicator, a hologram of Mario immediately appeared.
"Hello Donkey Kong," Mario greeted exasperatedly.
"What's the matter, buddy? Tournament woes?"
"Yeah. Some of the Smashers are starting to straggle in, and haven't begun to…"
"Well, it's about to get a whole lot worse…" Donkey Kong began.
Coastal clearing, Kong Island
King K. Rool tapped his foot impatiently, battling his impulses to just invade this hostile territory outright, having to occasionally besiege the yammering of an impatient Kremling Crew when Diddy came bounding through the trees, a device not of this world strapped to his wrist. Diddy punched some buttons, and a portal opened up to the serene-looking courtyard of a mansion.
"Through here," Diddy snapped, "Somebody on the other side will make arrangements from there. We'll be in in a few days."
King K. Rool huffed, beckoning his legion through the portal. Immediately, the air changed as the portal closed behind them. Not the compressed air of the Krem-Marine, not even the sea salt smell that blanketed the Rare Archipelago, just air. A robot rolled up to the entourage of hundreds, a dog with a duck on its back nipping behind.
"Greetings, I am…' The robot began, but K. Rool interrupted.
"ROB the Robot," King K. Rool explained, as the rest of the Kremlings began to mutter excitedly amongst themselves, "Your story as the last of your kind has…resonated with my people. Dare I say that you were the most popular Smasher on the Krem-Marine."
"I appreciate that very much," said ROB, "Kremling bodyguards and Kalypso, step forward,"
They did. As they did, a portal opened up to the side of where they stood.
"The rest of you, please step through this portal. This is our only open hotel, as Smash City will not open for quite some time. You are free to whatever rooms you choose."
A mix of emotion erupted from the Kremling crowd as they shuffled through the portal. Some shouted elation at being off the submarine for a while, some expressed annoyance at having to go through yet another portal, and confusion came from the children who had known nothing different. The latter caused a pang of regret to thump at the king's chest as the last of subjects stepped through the portal, which quickly closed.
"Kalypso, come with me," ROB commanded, "We must put what you know into a database. Otis, Mikey, you will show King K. Rool and his bodyguards to their living quarters."
Kalypso looked to K. Rool for assurance. The commander nodded, and without a word, Kalypso followed the robot. Suddenly, K. Rool's good eye widened. Surely, though the tyrant, by Otis and Mikey they didn't mean..."
"This way please," beckoned the dog.
"Preposterous," spat the king. You are a dog. How are you speaking my tongue?"
"Translator," the brown hunting dog announced, jerking his head towards the black watch strapped across his ankle. You'll get one too, Mikey'll bring it by."
Nodding wearily, the king and his bodyguards followed the dog and duck up the stairs and through the doorway at the top, which lead to a hallway with many doors on each side.
"Pray tell," asked King K. Rool, "Who will we be sharing space with?"
"The Kongs," quacked Mikey.
"What? Why?" spat King K. Rool.
"They wanted to keep an eye on you. Accordin' to boss man Mario, Donkey Kong said that if something happened, he wanted to be the one to wring your neck personally."
The silent bodyguards tensed King K. Rool nodded mid growl, "I understand."
Both bodyguards shot K Rool a bewildered look.
"We have to play nice Klump, Krusha. I suggest you'll follow these rules.
They nodded, heading to their room. King K. Rool sighed. Every neuron in his body boiled, fighting against this. How long will the good times last?