The last metroid is in captivity. The galaxy is at peace.

That's what Samus kept telling herself, but somehow she didn't feel relieved. Maybe it was because, what with all this running around space stations sorting out all those metroids, she hadn't had any time for herself. After all, she wasn't just a Varian-suited fighting machine - she was a fiercely independent young woman, with thoughts and feelings and a smoking hot bod. Well, starting tomorrow she was going to embark on a pampering regime and look after number one.

The phone rang. "Yes?"

"Samus," crackled the voice on the other end. "Sorry to bother you, but it looks like there's a bunch more metroids we didn't spot before. We'll need you to set off right way."

Samus groaned in annoyance. "Awww, man!"