"Ummm………hi…

Okay, enough boring crap. I'm Foxpilot. You may also call me F-p or Eric. My "authorized" description is on my profile. And I'm starting my second story here. And to kick it off, I got one of the main characters to read the disclaimer! Take it away!"

Marth walks out onto the stage…platform…wherever they are. He begins speaking in Japanese, confusing the audience.

F-p walks up and waves a form in Marth's face. "The contract says English! I know you can; you learned for Shadow Dragon DS!"

"Okay, fine," Marth replies. He then clears his throat and begins to read. "'Foxpilot does not own the Smash Brothers Series nor is this story licensed. If he did own the series, The Subspace Emissary would be longer and have voice acting.' There, how's that?"

"Excellent, you may go now." Before Marth can protest, he is dropped into a random pit, which spits out red smoke. "Hmmm…that's supposed to be green. Looks like I gotta get a contractor on that." F-p then looks out into the crowd. "I've also gotta make these intros shorter. So…Let it…Begin!"

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It was a beautiful night at the Smash Mansion. The moon had just risen and the night was warm. The younger Smashers were chasing fireflies around the yard, occasionally catching one and proudly displaying it to their friends. On the extensive porch, several adult Smashers were talking about the mysterious festivities Master Hand had mentioned.

"I dunno what this thing's for, but I'm always game for a party," said one feathered smasher. Falco Lombardi, ace of the Star Fox team and proud of it, swept a blue-feathered hand back over his glossy blue-feathered head. His silver pilot jacket slightly reflected the porch light, making him seem to glow in a representation of his endless confidence.

The figure next to him smiled, rank breath leaking out into the noses of his fellows. Thankfully, they had gotten used to the stench after several years with the guy. Wario was a distasteful snob who lived for money and lived off of a strict garlic diet. He began scratching at the seat of his pants as he said, "I agree. We-a don't often have-a parties. I-a hope there are gifts!" Wario then threw his head back and gave his odd laugh.

"Don't count on it," the person across the table said. This being was odd in that he was small, blue, and round. He wore a mask and openly carried a sword with four prongs sticking off of it. This was Meta Knight. While cold at times, the mysterious warrior nonetheless was not object to social events. "The only times we get presents during a party is on a birthday or Christmas. Even then, you don't give anything. I'm not getting you a present from now on."

As Wario's jaw went slack with incomprehension, the fourth figure at the table began to laugh in a raspy voice before taking a puff of a cigarette. Solid Snake, or Snake as everyone called him, was a heavily private person who could make himself known or unknown as he pleased. "MK's gotcha there, fatso. Maybe if you actually gave a damn about others, you'd get more of your precious loot." Snake laughed again.

These four Smashers were not particularly friends, but they did draw a sort of solace in knowing that each was a worthy rival. The fact that they were talking together showed that they had a relative comfort around each other. Except maybe Wario. Nobody really liked him, but they put up with him to keep Master Hand happy.

Their little chat also showed that they were done. Master Hand had everyone working for this special event he had planned, except for the kids. The four in question had managed to finish their tasks early thanks to their own special talents.

"So," Falco began. He liked being a leader and it showed in small groups like this. "What do you all think the Hand man has up his sleeve for us?"

"I bet it's-a garlic party!"

"Wario, life does not revolve around you. Besides, it is obviously a party dedicated to my great popularity and skill as a Smasher."

"Get real, Meta! You aren't the best here! I beat you just last night and it wasn't even close." Falco's arrogant comeback stung the shorter warrior, but he couldn't deny the facts. It had been a fair fight, after all.

"Hmm…so, it's not any Earth holiday I know," Snake mused, both trying to ease tension and get the conversation back in line. He had recently lost a Brawl against Ike, the strong, blue-haired mercenary from Crimea, and was trying to forget about fighting for a while.

"I don't-a know."

"PopStar has no federal occasions on this day."

"Lylat certainly doesn't have anything. Hey, speakin' of Lylat, look who just showed up!"

Indeed a new member of the Smashers had appeared. A moderately tall, upright fox wearing garb similar to Falco's had stepped out onto the porch, wiping his brow with the back of his hand-like paw. He looked up and grinned at his old friend and greeted the group. "Hey Falco, Meta Knight, Snake, Wario. Just so you know, Master Hand's going to announce the reason for all of this work soon."

"Hey, Fox, you alright? The Hand man didn't work you too hard did he," Falco jested, knowing that his friend had been working to fix the boilers in the basement. A thick coat like Fox's would soon overwhelm anyone not used to it.

"Ha, funny, Falco. But seriously, help me get the kids together so we can get started."

After the young fighters had been corralled into the den, Master Hand addressed his audience. "My Smashers, I have gathered you here—Crazy! Don't touch that! Anyway, tomorrow begins the Week of the Blue Sun, a proud day in the history of the Smashing World celebrated once every 250 years. Thanks to your hard work, we are ready to begin the celebrations!" This statement was met by loud cheers by all except ROB, who merely clapped its metallic arms together, pretending to comprehend the point of celebration in general.

Once the noise had subsided, Master Hand continued. "As soon as the clock strikes midnight, I will drop the Ball of Blue Sun and the party shall begin. We will continue until just before sunrise." This announcement was followed by yet more cheers.

"Now, a little history to pass the time." The younger Smashers and some of the more impatient members grumbled and moaned, but Master Hand ignored them. "Now, ten million years ago, this planet was just a barren wasteland of scorched rocks and dried oceans. That was before I came." Master Hand chuckled at the memory, while many Smashers sweatdropped at the haughtiness the hand-lord had displayed. Even ROB.

"I was a young hand of 21,206 at the time, and full of my power. I had been studying this planet to see if I could make it my own, as many Hand-lords once did long ago. During my studies, I noticed that once every 250 revolutions of this planet, the sun would turn blue almost randomly. This happened to coincide with a rush of power that I felt every so often. So I decided that this planet was perfect for me. When the time came, almost ten million years ago, I used this influx of power to make this world beautiful.

"I moved it away from the sun, filled the seas with water, and built a society. However, these people did not have true life. I have tried four times to make living species on this planet. The first ones were utter failures, which were soon destroyed by the fledgling planet's climate, thrown into turmoil by the changes in geo-stellar orbit. The other three you've seen around the house as my benevolent servants: the Polygons, the Wireframes, and the Alloys."

As Master Hand paused, Samus spoke up. "So you tried to create life twice recently, then?" Her eyes flashed, not dangerously as one angered, but curiously as one confused. I thought we were supposed to be the inhabitants of the planet."

Master Hand paused for a moment before responding. "That is true, all of it. When I found that I couldn't make life myself, I chose people from many different worlds not claimed by other Hand-lords to populate my world. I would like to think that I chose well, for you all feel like my children." Awkward silence ensued as the Smashers exchanged glances of unease. "Well, you do to me, and that's what matters," exclaimed the giant glove.

"Now, I got off track so let me summarize for those of you who didn't pay attention. I made this planet ten million years ago using an odd solar event to fuel my power. This is the 40,000th celebration of the Week of Blue Sun, and I am glad to share it all with you. Happy WoBS!" and with that, the clock struck twelve. Master Hand smashed a ball hanging from the ceiling onto the ground.

A blue glow like sunlight enveloped the mansion. From nowhere party favors and refreshments appeared. Olimar turned on the music and the party began.

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"I had no idea that Master Hand was so old," Wolf remarked to nobody in particular. He was sitting at the small bar along with Falco, Snake, and King Dedede. They were being served by an original Polygon, and were each in their own state of inebriation. Snake had fallen asleep, Falco was spinning on the bar stool, making starfighter noises, and Dedede was paying some attention to Wolf. The clawed Smasher continued.

"I'd 'a thought he was only as old as my grandpup. But he's as old as the Cornerian civilization!" The Polygon placed a sparkling and fizzing drink at Wolf's paw. The lupine pilot downed it before continuing. "Why, I bet he's old by Hand standards. We could take him out and make this planet a hideout!"

"Mm-hm…" Dedede's drinks had begun to get to the fat penguin's head. "I think that the old Hand guy looks pretty hot. Bet he's pretty good at…hahahaha!" At this point, the mallet-wielding bird keeled over laughing his guts out. Wolf grimaced, hoping that he would keep some semblance of sanity tonight.

"Fweeeeeeeeewww…peewpeewpeew! I gotcha, Wolfy. Nobody beats Falco the great. Hahaha *hic* hahaha!" Wolf punched the offending blue avian in the face, causing Falco to join the so-called "king" on the floor. "Fox, get this guy off me!" The pilot imitated a certain squeaky toad before laughing again. Wolf growled and grabbed his head. Tonight was certainly not the best he'd had.

Meanwhile, across the room, in a circle of Smashers, Lucario was having a break-dancing contest with Pikachu. "Do you wish to surrender, mouse, or do you want to be schooled some more," asked Lucario. He thought the contest was his, hands (or paws) down.

"Pika! Pika pikachu pika pika!" The electric rodent was infuriated, insisting that it was winning the contest. The Smashers around were split pretty evenly, some arguing in Pikachu's defense and others joining Lucario's side.

A little ways off, the swordsmen were discussing the code of conduct a sword-wielder should follow.

"I'm telling you, a woman on the right is not a woman at all," argued Marth. This was met with grumbles of opposition. "What, you don't believe me? Ike, come stand at my right." The non-Fire Emblem swordsmen laughed, much to Marth and Ike's fury.

"WE'RE NOT TOGETHER! I've got a lady back home," the infuriated pair shouted.

"Hahaha! It sounds like you're together. That was perfect!" Link's jest was soon forgotten as Marth stood next to him and drew his sword, landing the blade right at Link's midriff. The blade hit lightly and on the flat part, but it was enough to stop Link and everyone else from laughing.

"That is why a woman on the right is not a woman at all." Marth walked off to get something to eat while the other swordsmen, minus Link, began to laugh again.

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The morning sunlight had an odd hue. It burned the bird's eyes as he awoke. "Aw, man, what happened last night. I haven't had a headache so bad since…since that night with Katt. Ouch." Falco's griping landed on deaf ears; Falco was the only one awake in the room. King Dedede lay nearby in a major stupor, and Lucario was passed out on the couch. Falco vaguely remembered the Aura user bashing his head when he tried an insane dancing stunt. "Heh, serves him right, amateur."

Falco dragged himself to the kitchen, wondering where everyone was. The clock read 12:37…or was that 2:37? Falco's headache kept him from seeing clearly. The avian pilot poured himself a bowl of cereal without milk so that he could try and clear his head. The crunching only made the pain worse. As Falco sat there holding his head, he heard a voice yell "hello?"

"Ugh, could you pipe down? I got a major headache here! Ouch, that hurt, too." Falco sat for a moment in self pity before noticing a blue hedgehog standing in the doorway. 'Oh, great, now I'm delusional,' Falco thought. Slowly it dawned on the avian that he wasn't hallucinating, but that he was looking at Sonic. The speed-demon had a bemused look on his face.

"What's wrong with you, Falco, too much to drink, too little sleep," the annoying taunt was met with a half-eaten bowl of dry cereal to the face. "Well, sorrrrry! I thought you might know where everyone went! Only Marth, Ike, Meta, you and me are left!"

"Naw, you annoying twit. The dog and the penguin are out cold in the den. Now shut up. We're giving me a headache. Besided, they probably all went out to have fun on the town during the whole 'Blue Sun' thing."

"Sucks to be you!" Sonic walked to the living room before calling, "oh, Ike mentioned that, too. All of the vehicles are here, and the doors to the room were open. Meta doesn't think anyone actually got out of bed." The hedgehog went to annoy someone else.

Slowly, Falco realized what Sonic had said. If the Smashers were out, they would have taken a large vehicle or a small group of them. And Meta Knight had an eye for these kinds of things. Falco's smarting mind managed to recognize something was wrong before Marth rushed into the room waving a large paper. He looked like he had found a ghost.

Either the mansion was haunted, or the paper was more than just ordinary stationary.

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Okay, that's chap #1. I think the end could be better, but my account just got unlocked a little while ago and I want to get this out.

Two things. First, the "woman on the right" thing was something from a Renaissance Fair skit I once saw. If you get the joke, you can lol about it with the rest of us. Second, I learned that Microsoft Word recognizes "Pikachu" as a word without me putting it in. It even autocorrects for it! That shows so many things, you know…?

One last thing. Can you guess what these remaining Smashers have in common? Try, I dare you!

If you didn't like it, tell me. If you are reasonable, I'll take your ideas into account for upcoming chapters.

Ciao chow!