A spotlight is turned on and slowly pivots to a blonde-haired boy. The small outlines of eyes line the walls. With a terrible commanding voice, they boomed "SPEAK."

The boy squeaks and mutters one octave too high, "T-t-the author is i-in no way affiliated with Nintendo or New L-L-Line Cinema. H-h-he does not own S-Super Smash Brothers or Final D-D-Destination." The boy starts breaking down into tears as the spotlight gradually fades away.

"Fox, wake up."


"Come on, it's past 8!"

"Dun wanna, 5 more minutes…"

"I said, wake up!"

"Ok, ok, I'm awak— wha?"

Fox looked around the room. No one was there besides him. The sultry rays of evening glided through the window.


"Oh crap! What time is it?!" Fox hastily reached for his clock and saw a big hand at the five and the little one at eight.

"8:25? I'm going to be late for the flight!" he panicked while looking for his clothes.

See, today's a month before the matches actually start, and there was a 2-week vacation for the brawlers to enjoy before the (non-violent) bloodbath began. Nobody wants to miss that, nobody, especially Fox, whose vacations always end up with someone having a nervous breakdown, broken limbs, you name it.

"Warp Star!" Fox shouted as he jumped on it. "C'mon, please let me get there on time, please!" he thought. He didn't want to be stuck here for that one whole month doing nothing but shopping, running from the occasional fangirl mob that was usually reserved for the swordsmen, and suing the media sneaking behind him recording his every move.

After an agonizing five minutes of nail-biting panic, Fox arrived at the airport. The enormous digital clock in front read E5:8. "Well, that can't be right," he pondered to himself before he realized he was looking in a mirror. Turning around, the clock read 8:32. Feeling somewhat embarrassed, he walked towards the building, as the clock above short-circuited for that one instant and displayed :23.

"Geez, where could everyone be?" he muttered to himself.

"Is that you, Fox? Over here! Over here!"

To his left was a boy, who wore a toga and had wings coming out of his shoulders.

"Pit! Finally, I've met someone! Which gate are we going to?"

"Gate?" Pit gave a curious look.

"You know, the area where we get on an airship?"

Pit just stared at Fox.

"There's a giant number over it?"

Pit just kept staring.

"…you've never rode on one before, have you?"

"NOPE!" Pit cried cheerfully. "But back on the giant number thing, I heard it was 23."

"Ah. Well, let's go!"

They made their way towards the gates, passing loud crowds of people, those annoying salesmen that sell ancient toasters that explode when you put bread in it, a kid that accidentally poked his kebab stick into someone's side, a brat flicking a lighter on and off before setting his mother's dress on fire, and a boy who fell into a fountain.

Everyone was waiting at the gate.

"There you are!"

"I thought we'd have to leave without you!"

"And we would've too!"



There, giving Pit and Fox exasperated looks of annoyance and relief were the rest of the fighters.

A blue-haired, elegant yet androgynous swordsman stepped towards them.

"From where I came from, it was considered common to show up two hours beforehand."

"Look here, pretty boy," drawled a dark-skinned man with obvious hints of evil around him. "This isn't Eyetear, or whatever kingdom you come from."

"It's Altea, Ganondorf, and my name is Marth!"

"..tha." finished a swordsman wearing a green tunic. Marth glared at him. Another swordsman with blue spiked hair snickered.

"Link, Ike…"

"Sorry, couldn't resist!" Link and Ike said defensively with their hands shielding them.

"So," Fox started hurriedly. "W-what type of airship are we going to be riding in?"

"The Halberd."


"You heard me, the Halberd." Everyone stared at the diminutive warrior wearing a cape and a mask.

"Meta Knight, are you serious? You came here to relax, not to drive a giant warship."

"It has other uses than just being a warship, and I've already assigned a crew of professionals to take care of everything. And Wario, if you eat anything, including pieces of metal, on my ship, I will personally stick my sword down your throat and skewer each piece out. With you fully conscious."

"Curses!" bellowed a man with a face that would make pedophiles cry.

"Same goes to you, Kirby."

((AN: Due to my reasoning that you, the reader, and I, the author, will probably be annoyed with sounds that are in no way a language that either of us can comprehend and will compel us to gouge our eyes out and douse alcohol on them, I will have every character speak in a language I'm (mostly) sure we can all understand: English. If you can't, then I have no clue why you were reading this fic in the first place.))

"But I—" started a pink marshmallow (?) with a face that would make children hungry bastards. "Never mind."

"I've been looking forward to this vacation," a blonde with her hair tied into a ponytail sighed. "I'll be finally able to get away from—"

"Hey there, Samus! How would you like to see some of my moves?" shouted a racer.

"How would you like to be annihilated with a plasma cannon in your face, Falcon? And I'll be tying you to your bed, Snake, if you come any closer." Samus directed her threat towards Captain Falcon and the box that was inching towards her cheeks.

The war-hardened mercenary threw the box off of him and whispered in a voice that could attract fangirls from every direction. "I'll let you tie me if you're going to be on it as well."

"Yeah, when you get a razor in your neck."

"Playing hard to get, huh? I like that in a woman."

"Would you like a missile in your mouth?"

"Mario, I'm-a scared…" squeaked an (clearly) Italian wearing a green hat.

"Luigi, if you're-a scared, I don't-a know what Lucas is," his shorter, red-capped counterpart pointed out. A blonde-haired, big-head boy was being poked with a bat by Ness, his baseball-loving friend, and surrounding Lucas was a variety of strange creatures.

The other human, taller than the two brats (erm, kids) named Red turned to a bipedal turtle. "Squirtle, use Water Gun on him, will you?"

"You got that, squirt!"

"What did you call me?!"

"Nothing, squirt!"

Water came out of Squirtle's mouth like a baby after eating his first meal and straight onto Lucas' face, causing him to scream and jump ten feet in the air before a jackal-like being spiked him back down.

"What was that for, Lucario?!"

"Now, now, let's sing a song to soothe our troubles—"

"Do that, Jigglypuff, and I will rip out your vocal cords and feed them to Ivysaur!" roared a giant red dragon from overhead.

"Pikachu! They're being cruel to me!"

"No. Stay away from me, you crazy woman."

"Get back here, you egg-laying freak!" roared a turtle with a spiked shell.


"Leave the poor—useless-- thing alone, Bowser!" called out a elegant girl (woman?) dressed in magnificent garb.

"What are you going to do? Turn into a man again?"

WHACK! Bowser went sailing through the air right into Olimar, crushing his beloved Pikmin.

"No! Harold, Maya, Snookums!"

"You know, even if we make it to that—tropical resort, was it—we're going to need another vacation after this vacation," sneered a blue humanoid bird keeping a cartoonish version of Link at bay.

"Falco!" cried the angel boy. "You haven't addressed your best friend yet!"

"…shut up. I know he's here, you know."

"And we're glad he's here." A blonde-haired girl in a vivid pink dress clutching onto a pink parasol, giving Fox a smile that could make a cold-blooded child murderer cry. He blushed before his secret crush, stuttering, "Oh, it's n-nothing…"

"Well, almost all of us are glad he's here." Fox frowned. Standing right in front of him was his arch-nemesis that saved his butt a lot of times and ridiculed him for the heck of it.

"Wolf, you didn't have to say such things!"

"Peach, you should feel sorry for this mongrel with one eye. He can't get a date to save his life." Fox remarked.

"Ah, but you need someone whose guts you'd spit on to save yours," chuckled Wolf.

"Shut up, Wolf." Falco sternly expressed.

"Can it, tomorrow's lunch."

"Why, you—"

"Attention, will all passengers at Gate 23 please board your airship immediately. It will be taking off in fifteen minutes," echoed a voice over the PA speakers. The roar of engines could be heard through the thick glass windows as the Halberd came onto view.

"Let's just go on; I'm sick of being close to this mutt," whined Falco.

Well, that's the end of the first chapter to commemorate the beginning of a new month!

Fox: More like soften the blow before school starts.