Smash Skits

Note: I do not own the Smash Brothers series or any characters from it. However, I do own this fic, and FINALLY my own copy of the game! Of that, I am happy at last!

I was inspired by this happening when I went on a vacation to New Jersey! Enjoy!


(Chapter 21: Handicap 9, CPU 9)


On a trek of self-discovery, one can take the time to re-affirm what drives someone to do what they do. If someone feels drained from doing what they enjoy doing, losing the passion of it all, said individual could take this time to think. And once said thinking comes about, said individual can either re-acquaint themselves with their burnt out passion, or pursue something new entirely, rekindling a new kind of drive.

Enjoy that slice of advice, and gather around, as I regale this tale of delight, anger, fury, and laugh-out-loud Melee goodness... based on a true story.


"Okay, Final Destination will be our next battleground!" Captain Falcon cheered vigorously, cocking his fist up to the ceiling in the Melee Stage Selector room. "Show me your moves!"

"Heh, I'll show you some moves..." Came the cocky confidence of Roy, looking out the window. His eyes then turned to the bounty hunter's, burning with a lacklustre passion. "It'd give us something to do around here."

"Yeah, no kidding..." Falcon nodded in agreement, taking a seat beside the young general. "No one's been in a fighting mood for a while now, especially with news about a new "brawl" or something coming out soon... and fighting simulated Smashers and the Wireframes gets boring too!!"

"Yeah..." The red-head leaned back into his seat. "...If only there was some way to spice up these computer matches!" The man beside him nodded. All of a sudden, Roy saw Captain Falcon stand up and walk over to the CPU console unit. He saw Falcon fiddling around with some of the match settings as well as CPU difficulties. He started tapping a few buttons, and Roy just perked an eyebrow up at him. "Um... Falcon, what are you doing?"

"Ya know, Roy boy, I've been doing some thinking about this... perhaps we've neglected this one option while doing the CPU matches... I mean, at first, I didn't know what purpose the Handicap option served..."

"What?" The young man looked at the bounty hunter. "Are you kidding?? The Handicap function sets a balance level for the inexperienced. A lower handicap means you'll be so weak that you'll be sent right off the stage at the minor percentages."

"Yeah, yeah, and high handicaps means that you'd have to take practically almost three hundred percent worth of damage before you can be sent flying..." Falcon looked at the console again, and suddenly an idea-lightbulb spawned above his head. He promptly grabbed said lightbulb and tossed it out the window, nailing Falco in the back of the head. "Roy! I got an idea! Go get Marth or Ganondorf or someone! I might just be onto something!!"

"Uh... okay?" And Roy got up and left the room, leaving Falcon to his own devices...


"One more adjustment... and... YES!" With the coining of his one of many soon-to-be-famous catchphrases, Falcon cheered again, looking at the door, seeing Roy coming back in. "Glad to see ya again, Roy ol' buddy! So did you get a third for us?"

"Yeah... the only guy who seemed the least bit interested in this idea of yours was Ganon."

The King of Evil walked in and just stood there. "Yes... so, amuse me with this idea, Falcon, or else I'll soak your cereal in kerosene like I do with Link's all the time."

"Hey, man, no need for the combustion threats, Ganny!" Falcon slapped the big guy's back playfully. He headed straight over to the console. "Anywho, here's my idea: the three of us team up against a single random level 9 CPU Smasher, like a Thursday usual. Then, using Handicaps, we'll set ours to 1, and the CPU's handicap to 9. If the theory plays out properly, we'll get a nice challenge, AND a sweet new time killer. What do you say?" Both the general and the King of Evil looked at him oddly. Rather, it was Roy looking at him oddly, and Ganondorf looking like he'll beat up a squirrel, then throw the remains on the good carpet. "...C'mon, it'll be fun!"


"This better be worth my time, moron."

And so, Captain Falcon, Roy, and Ganondorf stepped into Final Destination after setting their handicaps and arguing for five minutes on what team color works best... Blue was the deciding victor. Almost immediately upon stepping inside the stage, they felt some kind of immediate weakness set upon the three of them. An uncomfortable feeling, like getting heart-freeze after drinking a slushie too fast, but the thought was pushed aside, especially since they saw the opponent CPU they would be owning.


A single, cute, oblivious little Pichu.

"MWAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!" Ganondorf roared triumphantly. "You're right, mortals! This WILL prove to be a smart investment of my time indeed!" The burly Gerudo started charing forward towards the little mouse, seeing it loose a 'CHUUU' cry. "Heh! Summoning your Thunder won't save you from my--"

The multi-hitting shock that boomed onto the little Pokemon also zapped the King of Evil repeatedly, and as if the sudden damage wasn't bad enough, as if he was bugged data, he was sent flying into the distance at a mere nine percent damage; he couldn't even usher a simple scream of defeat.

Captain Falcon and Roy could only see the look of satisfaction, and now destruction, within the CPU's eyes. And as Ganondorf came back onto the stage, for the Pichu, it only saw FEAR in the eyes of its prey.

"...And I set it to four stocks too..." Falcon whimpered in defeat as the Pichu charged forward...


Glad I managed to get at least a minor chuckle from you all! Don't forget, your ideas can be brought to life too if you review and pitch them!

Tune in next time!